It's funny, I reckon some of them were so tempted to touch my cock instead of shaking my hand, its soooo good. It was a great end to an enthralling ni...ht. I recently visited the same bookshop, only this time during the day. A girl was working and I had spoken to her about trying on some slutty skirts. No problem she said and showed me what was in stock. I asked if it would be okay to strip off in the store and try them on? Not a problem, she said. I hastily undressed. I'd gone prepared, no. .. I shot my gaze back down to my phone. Why did I think that? What was wrong with me? She was my sister. Think about cute boys.I struggled to think of cute boys. Bruce or Clint or Rex were cute guys at my school. And there was Mr. Morrison, who was our history teacher that my sister and I both had a crush on. But their faces wouldn’t stay in my mind. Denise’s kept popping up.My cheeks burned. My pussy grew hotter and hotter. Every step, the tingle in my cunt swelled. I wanted to masturbate. I. .. we got carried away.” I sat up in the bath and took both her hands and brought them to my lips and kissed each of them. “Hillary. There is no reason for tears! The party and everything that happened there and last night was wonderful. I am not fragile and I loved what you both did for me. Please, there is no reason for tears between friends.” I said and smiled at her. Hillary smiled back, but still seemed a bit unconvinced. She told me there was food in the bedroom for me and left me to take. "Let me get this straight. You'll stop seeing him, but you're asking that for the time being I am to think over what you said—offered? That about it?" I said."Yes," she said. Well, she was being fair, at least in her mind. And, the Pollard thing would be at an end as of that moment. I nodded."Okay, I can go that far, but I can tell you right now; I'm not gonna be changing my mind. I don't need any pussy but yours. And this—what is it—swinging thing is not my cup of tea. Oh, and one other thing..