He rubbed the exterior of the rubbery muscle, but never attempted to enter past the flexible gate. In, pause, out, my breathing smoothed out again. Hi... hand went lower, rubbing the perineum and the outer edges of the sheath, even pushing underneath the mons and trailing lightly up.It felt sensual, more than sexual. I was aware it was a male hand stroking my intimate parts, but it didn’t seem as if he was seeking to arouse me, only to relax me. My body became limper and limper. He leaned over me. She felt her pantiesconstricting her knees. There was something so wrongabout what he was doing, so bad that it made her feelsexy and slutty. She liked feeling like a bad girl. Mrs. Smith had stopped talking, folded up her lawn chairand was heading back inside. Once the landlady was gone,she no longer had to fake a conversation. She stared upat the clouds as they drifted along. People were walkingand cars driving by, so she still acted like nothing washappening, like he wasn’t sliding his. More

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