"Wee bonny lassie going to work," her mother cooed. "For first time." I've worked before," Abigail snorted, only for Moira to add that it was only a p...per round. Abigail gave her a smile and got up from the table, saying goodbye to her mother and passing a gentle wave to her scowling sister.Moira had never been fond of her and her caustic remarks, and angry disposition towards the younger girl used to lead to plenty of arguments and fights, but Abigail barely cared any more.She knew Moira would. It is purely fiction and strictly for fantasy purposes.Any resemblance to any actual people or situations is completely coincidental.Since the activities described are non-consensual they should NOT, in myopinion, take place in real life, and would in fact be illegal and, as faras I'm concerned, immoral. However, some people, including me, enjoy fantasizing about such things.So I present this story as an artistic release of one of my many fantasiesthat roam through my mind. It has depictions of. . Jin logo ny phlye part ni parhye o0nhye kam maza aye ga par aye ga zaror jinho ny ni para o0nhye batata chlo nasem k brye me k nasem k b0ob uff 34 k ha jin ki chochia brown ha or bht soft ha nasem ki hegit 5 ft ha jo kamal ki ha or gand ka size 38 ha jo mjye bht atarctive karti ha 34-34-38 kamal ka figuer ha jo koi b nasem ko dekhye chodna chaye ga ku k wo ha e itni sexy or meri height 5.6 ha cehest size 38 and arm size 15 or muscular body and sub sy important part my dic 6.5 ka ha or paropar. I always felt like a tag-along little sister with the guys and the wives always managed to make it clear I wasn’t welcome in their little circle. Except Ronni.She always sat and talked to me for at least a few minutes; it was pretty much the only part of the barbeques I liked.One time she saw me looking at the wives. “Don’t worry about them none, Wendy. They don’ mean anything by it.” She stared at them for a moment, with a touch of sadness. “They’re just all in the same lifeboat, clinging to.