”“Thought so,” I replied smugly.“My step-dad does not have that opinion. He’d counsel against me being a wanton slut, but not against having...sex if I’d considered it properly and the guy and I respected each other and used birth control.”“Being a ‘wanton slut’ sounds like fun,” Clarissa teased.“Don’t you think it would lose all meaning at that point?” I asked. “I’ve struggled with that idea and while I’ve had a number of partners, I wouldn’t call it being a ‘wanton stud’!”Both girls. )The next day, in my “me” time, I opened the package. The wig was silver-gray, not the platinum-blonde I had ordered, but overall the color choice was cool because it looked like smoke to me. And was it big and fluffy when I shook it out? I quicly got my “manchesters” on, then, trembling, settled the wig onto my head! It was voluminous enough that when I shook my head, some of the tresses would swish onto my face, lashing me with womanly sexiness! You can imagine how short a time it took me to. ‘God, this feels soooo . . . good.’ she murmurs, momentarily taking her mouth off Mr. Schroeder’s stiff prick to look back at her large, bearded instructor, her eyes glazed with youthful, wanton lust, as she watches her handsome teacher fuck into her ass. ‘Oh, yeah . . . oh, yeah, fuck me harder . . . fuck my ass harder.’ “I’ll give you harder,” says Mr. Corey, driving his fat cock hard and deep into the student bent before him. Only the vice-principal’s body before her keeps her from falling. ’ Stella replied. ‘Good! Don’t let me down,’ the angelic voice whispered. I slept until three-o’clock, checked on Stella, and awoke her and Bradford. ‘You’re running out of time. The arm needs to come off soon!’ I spoke plainly. ‘No.’ Stella insisted. ‘I’ll be alright, God has given me an ordeal to test my faith.’ ‘I think you’ll die, and I don’t believe that God wants your life since he allowed me to be here to help you,’ I argued. ‘No!’ She repeated. Bradford appealed to her and tried to.