As she turned, she put her hand between her thighs and pushed it against the mound of her cunt. Just that diffused pressure made her pussy tingle."Why...won't somebody fuck me? Daddy, why won't you fuck me?"Lying on her side, she humped her hand, bouncing her pussy mound against it. Even through her shorts and panties, she could feel the contours of her cunt area, the button that was her clit, the cleft that led to the hole of her cunt. She cupped herself, the warmth of her hand radiating out to. Sipping at his wine and looking at the lovely blue lipstickstains on the glass, he was in heaven. After about an hour of admiring himself in the mirror, watching TV,sipping wine and flicking through magazines, Peter opened his shiny bluehandbag and took out his lipstick; giving his sexy cupid's bow lips arefreshing coat. He loved the feel of lipstick being applied to his lips,and he looked in the wall mirror to admire himself.Whilst sitting admiring his beautifully manicured nails, thinking. As he passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard, "One for you, one for me, one for you, one for me..."He just knew what it was. He jumped back on his bike and rode off. Just around the bend he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along."Come here quick," said the boy, "you won't believe what I heard! Satan and the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls!"The man said, "Beat it kid, can't you see it's hard for me. She was wearing her usual "work around the house" clothes; a pair of jeans with a much washed and shrunken t-shirt, its once bright colors now faded. Her brown hair, which normally reached halfway down her back, was caught up in a hasty twist. "Hi Ginger." "Hey there Jacquie," smiled the woman from down the street. She was older than Jacquie, right around forty and a couple of inches taller. Her red hair hung to her shoulders. Like Jacquie, she was wearing jeans. Her top was brief, two thin.