"If you have that, then how..." I trailed off."Oh, it locks in the back. Wouldn't want the strings to show through yourcostume." And when you say 'loc...s'?" Don't worry, buddy, I've got the key." Mike held up a small metal objectand put it in his pants pocket."And if the oaf loses it, I've got a backup," Greta told me.Well, that seemed all right, then."Now, little miss, I think it's about time to give you a name, don'tyou?" Greta peered at me. Down at me, she was a couple inches taller onheels. You push rhythmically in and out and in and out. Your juices are still flowing and your hands are glistening from the sweet juice. I long to taste it. But I don’t want to stop. I want to see you bring yourself crashing up onto the rocks. I want to see you moan while drowning in your own pleasure. I had spent many early mornings before rubbing my tool with hand lotion and imagining you with your hands in your most intimate hole.Now it was happening right before my eyes. You were moaning. More

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