Communication is the key. Don’t be afraid to say what you like and don’t like. Do you have any questions?” Mark asked as he now slipped a second...finger into my vagina.While Mark had been speaking to me I simply lay on the bed and stared at his hard cock. My lips were still dry but my vagina seeping moisture. “No, I agree to all you have said. This seems like a dream and my vagina is in need of some serious attention.” I answered between gasping breaths.“Joy you may want to stop using the term. Primed. But if you come that quickly the next time, chances are you’ll be coming alone and leaving the Old Girl hanging.”“I think I can do better,” I told her. “Everything was under control until you started to come, and then you squeezed me so hard there was no place to go except to the finish line!”“So if I don’t get there, it’s all my fault, huh? Boy, you men sure do learn young how to pass the blame.” She was joking, I knew, but there was a large grain of truth in the statement.“Can’t call. "Yes hun," she said with a sigh, sipping her morning tea. "He died a longtime ago, when your mom was just a little baby."Now I was old enough to read other peoples' emotions better. I could seesadness in her eyes, and something else in my mom's. I asked what Ithought was a natural question to my mom. "Do you miss him?" Honey, I never knew him," she said frankly, "I did miss having him. WhenI was around your age I couldn't ignore that I didn't have what other kidshave. But I had something very. Only the uneaten scraps would be left to her. "It's the King. His Royal Majesty. He is hunting through the whole of his kingdom for a girl, a single girl, with whom he has fallen in love and whom he wishes to take as his concubine." So?" sniffed Ursula, who was tall and thin, with a nose long and aquiline, and a permanent sneer on her thin upper lip."Why should we care about the King?" echoed Ermintrude, an altogether plumper girl than her sister, resembling much more her mother."My daughters!.