He continued to talk while he wanked himself off, my limp member still poking out of crumpled trousers and at one point, as he tried to cum, I remembe..., predictably, that I was warned to to tell anyone of our fun. I was in no mood to talk about it anyway, there were no threats from him, just a stressed few words to explain that our secret play, would be our secret. I was sitting there, feeling a little awkward but still without alarm, when he started to moan from the pit of his stomach and his. "Why do people call it that anyway?" complained Carly. "My mother isn't a tramp. She's never been a tramp. It's inconceivable to even try to imagine her as a tramp!" Are we tramps?" asked Sherry."Of course not!" barked Carly. "Why would you even ask that?" Gee, I don't know. Maybe because we're lying here naked with a guy? A guy you've fucked?" Damn, Cher!" groaned Carly, covering her eyes with one forearm."Well, it's true. We could get tattoos like that and when people thought we were wild. More

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