“oh mister, please finger-fuck me. Make your dirty little slut feel good. Please mister, please!”Suddenly, she screamed and I felt a huge rush o... wetness against my hand. My god, this young girl squirts? What did I do to deserve this? Overcome by lust, I reached up and unsnapped her shorts and slid them off. I leaned back and feasted my eyes on the sight of this hot little nymph sitting there with her pink little tits with nipples that were sticking straight up and her legs spread showing. She will not be allowed to drink alchohol, If I find some cocaine worth buying I will let her have some of that, but only in moderation. These same rules apply to you as well, some nice drugs to relax you but nothing dangerous. And I don't know how many times I have to tell you Brenda, you have no say in the matter, what I do and don't do with your daughter is out of your control, so please, just shut the fuck up and get that luscious ass of yours down here so you can have some pot too, and. ........I was sitting alone at the back of the top deck on a bus one day, making my way home from school. I was 16 at the time, and could not wait to get in after a tough day. As usual, the bus was pretty empty as I lived the furthest away from school and after a few stops all the other k**s had gotten off at their stops already. The bus pulled up at a stop and I heard loud girlish talking and laughing. A group of girls heavily trodded up the stairs onto the empty top deck. I reconised them as. What was an unfulfilled woman to do? Claire smiled, eyes still closed in that unknown place, and remembered how she had walked so slyly through the door. How she had stood in that empty room before the huge mirror. It had covered the entire wall. On the floor a message had been painted. What do you want? Claire had looked at herself. Tousled red hair pinned into a severe bun, pale skin made paler through worry, a soft, curvaceous body hidden under sensible layers. She had moved her hands to.