Charity had loved her feet being kissed so andWhitney was the same.Whitney began moaning in pleasure as her feet continued to be worshipped."Your feet...are very pretty," I commented."MMpphhh!" Whitney replied enthusiastically and appreciative of thecompliment.I continued to kiss her feet for a few more minutes before turning myattentions elsewhere. I stroked Whitney's nylon-clad legs; working my wayup to her thighs."MMppphh! UUmmppphh!" she moaned with increasing urgency.I slipped my hand. You may come with me."The young man sighed and wilted under the young woman's withering gaze."Very well! You may come with me, but you must calm yourself, Christine! Your emotions are out of control and, if you glance out the window, you will see the results of your tempestuousness. Really, ma chéri!"Once more Christine found her reply cut off by a shriek and then by the loud braying of a frightened animal. Christine began to rush to Erik's side, but froze as Helen's voice boomed throughout the. Any man looking at them must be torn between wanting to protect them from harm and wanting to fuck them senseless. That’s the way I feel every day of my life. I spend fifty percent of my life protecting them from harm. I spend fifty percent of my life fucking them senseless. It seems like a fair trade-off to me. I was hugging her gently, my head on her protuberant belly when I felt them. They weren’t kicking. Dee Dee felt nothing physical, I’m sure. I felt them inside of me. In my head, I. The sight of him coming home with his uniform and boots and the shiny handgun that was tilted forward slightly to allow him to make a quicker draw was enough to make me horny and wet as could be between my legs. I was glad that I was wearing the thicker cotton panties that my mom bought for me by the dozen because they helped to soak up a lot of my sticky stuff that seemed like it was never going to stop running.They only had the one kid. She was a pretty little girl of about twelve and she was.