That left just the three of us remaining in the land of the living so we sat around talking about school and town gossip as we watched some silly real...ty show on TV. Brenda and I were sitting close together on the couch. She sat up while I lay on my side with my head in her lap and my legs curled under me. Brenda played with my hair – something that makes me feel so relaxed and if done right, incredibly horny. The only thing I was wearing was a tight t-shirt that barely covered my ass. I had. Nobody has ever given us a real explanation how it happened. Dad joked it was because of a football strike, but the timing doesn't work. Kevin's mom just said something was in the stars. I think Ellie's mom came closest to the truth, saying we were the product of the aftermath of a really good dinner party. Anyway, enough talk about childhood. Ellie and I grew up nicely. Ellie's mom is one of the most gorgeous Latino women I've ever seen, and her dad is a tall, dark, African god, built like a. A few seconds later Stacy opened the passenger door and climbed in. I leaned over and kissed her. “Are you still wet?” I asked. “I guess so,” she replied. “I want to know. Touch yourself.” Stacy did as I asked, apparently still enjoying being a bad girl. She slide her hand up under her skirt. When she withdrew it again her middle finger was wet. “Yep,” she smiled. I looked at her sternly. “Good. Just don’t cream on my seat.” Stacy hit my shoulder. “Fuck you,” she cried. I smiled and. When she washed offthe rest of my hair, she only used cold water. I was not having any fun,but she didn't care. With a firm slap to my ass she ushered me back toher room and pushed me on her bed, and I knew what was next. It feltlike she worked for hours and later in the night I would see what took solong. She started off nice enough and gave me a traditional butterflytramp stamp. However the rest of my torso and theighs containedtemporary tattoos such as "I " on my right. She exchanged.