“Just wait… it gets better!” I said, grinning wickedly. Her bare pussy became more engorged and red, her clit peeking out of its folds and tingl...ng from the special oil. “Oh God, John, the oil is making my pussy tingle! It’s like an itch that needs to be scratched. Rub it. Rub it, please, or I’ll have to rub it myself,” she pleaded. “Well, Chrissie, I wouldn’t be much of a masseuse if I made you rub it in yourself, now would I?” “No, I guess not,” she replied. I began rubbing the oil in as she. I am a thirty year old transwomen that didn't come out till I was twenty-five. It wasn't untill that age that I was able to understand and except it. The signs were always there however. Since seven I secretly dressed in my sister's clothing and pretended I was a woman. Later came the sexual acting and masterbation. Although I never understood why I did it, and usually buried it afterwards, I knew it made me feel extremely good. I never felt an attraction to men so I couldn't be gay right? On. If I wanted to, I could make my next departure resemble 6B's by stealing a nuke a few days before I left - off the top of an ICBM probably as the weapon storage areas would be heavily guarded by now - and writing a note saying the failure of the US Government to do as the angel ordered meant the Government's moral corruption was so great that it had to be destroyed. A few minutes later I'd make my noble sacrifice, giving myself up to save all the poor, innocent people in DC.Once my families had. Francine was indeed clean and fresh without the hampering laundry. Slick prodded the inner folds with one finger and drew his digit along the valley of her vulva. It was moist, not wet. Francine’s widened stance was still too narrow to get his face close enough. His cheeks were trapped between her toned, smooth thighs. Slick gently pushed against her knees and Francine aided his request with more leg spread. Slick pushed forward, extended his tongue and tipped Francine’s clitoris. He tried to.