Well all I can do is imagine. I imagine as I play with myself that this sexy girl is licking my slit, making me wetter, and even more horny. I start t... moan thinking about this. I continue reading the story, still imagining the girl on her knees, her head, buried in my pussy, my thighs wrapped tightly around her head so she won't stop. My fingers through her long, soft hair. I now have three fingers, buried deep inside my pussy. Between reading the story, and picturing this sexy girl eating me,. He is something of a loaner but his looks are like a magnet for girls. Even so, I’ve never seen him at a school dance.“I can tell you this, though, Cheri, he has worked since he was old enough to work. He cut lawns, raked leaves, fixed gutters, trimmed trees and caulked and painted houses all over town. My neighbors used him for their odd jobs right up until the accident. They absolutely rave about his work and sometimes leave their house keys with him when they leave town, so he can bring. Thank God for high heels, I thought. I watched as she dug a few scoops of ice into the empty glasses, then poured what could only be described as a very full measure of gin. Her drink of choice was vodka and orange, which I noticed she made with considerably less alcohol. "Let's go down to the den, it's much more comfortable down there. We usually save the living room for the vicar, or my husband's boss when he stops by. Why don't you grab the tray so we don't have to come back up for another.. "Jane! Don't you dare join these two in doing me down. I may love them, but they keep kicking me in the pants." Only in the rear, darling. What is in the front of your pants has value for us ladies."Jane was amused. "He is like the curate's egg, then: 'good in parts'?" Not quite, Jane," Tom was quick to point out. "The curate's egg story implies that the egg was bad all the way through, and the curate was afraid to say so to his host the bishop, so used the phrase. It comes from a cartoon in.