Then return to her bedroom. She would brush her long blond hair, sitting in front of her mirror naked as the day she was born. She ran her hands over ...er tits, paying particular attention to her nipples. Pushing her tits together. Her little moans of pure pleasure would get you so hard. She would lean back on her makeup chair, running her fingers into her pussy, slapping, tickling nibbling at herself. Her fingers would move in a blur as she fingered herself. Moving onto the bed, she would. She started to laugh. At first it was a giggle (“giggle? Where did that come from? I never giggle”), but it quickly flooded over into frantic, hysterical laughter. Her hand was still in her panties, her breasts were still bare and now bobbing with her laughter, but it didn't seem to matter. After a moment,, when he apparently realized she was not laughing at his penis, he began to laugh too. Their laughter echoed through the cinderblock hallway as they looked at one another's faces. Each time. More

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