I inadvertently moved a little hood of flesh up and found a hard little bud under it that was extremely sensitive when I rubbed it. I quickly realized...that bud was what I had been rubbing through the hood of flesh. I remembered the stories and I had found my clit. As I continued to rub my clit, I couldn't believe what I was feeling. I had started breathing hard, and I was softly moaning as my pussy got very wet, and was burning with pleasure.Soon my head was spinning with incredible desires as. .the Miranda Collington...my dream girl through so many of my teenage stroke fantasies and half the reason for my obsessive stocking fetish (my hot mother being the other half), "N-n-no is not in my vocabulary." That's because you are a male-slut," she accused playfully as she squeezed my cock through my jeans. I tried a witty comeback when my mouth was shut by Miranda's luscious lips. Miranda was an enigma. She was beautiful, powerful and confident, yet not a stuck-up bitch like all the high. More

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