Something about watching girls cross their legs and hold themselves as they struggle to keep it in gets me so turned on every time.It all started when...I was 7 and playing in my backyard with a boy from school. Tommy Packer was his name if I remember right. Anyway we were wrestling in the grass and I remember him stopping and grabbing and his crotch a few times. Finally I asked him if he needed to go inside and use my bathroom. I remember him puffing up all of a sudden and saying "guys don't. I still remember her smooth, hairless vulva, the inner labia demurely folded within the thick bulge of her outer lips, and how she unfolded like a bud as my fingers spread her apart. I remember her gasp of pleasure as my fumbling tongue found her clit. I remember how her vagina felt to my finger, the ridged moistness of it clenching down as her perineal muscles spasmed. And most of all – oh, most of all! – I remember how she bucked and twisted as she orgasmed, and in the throes of ecstasy, how. Slapping him on his cheeks with the crop, Emma directs Donald to the rack. His arms and legs outstretched, she hooks him to the rack as he had her. She gets a peacock feather, which she uses to begin to caress his cock and thighs. He starts to harden against the cage, and the pain that causes him keeps the tears flowing. Emma keeps teasing him mercilessly, not allowing him to cum. Small precum does drip from his slit, which Emma scoops up with her finger and brings it to Donald’s lips to. I guess it was a sort of understood short term relationship really whereas both of us could find the comfort we missed of out true loves who were away on business. But Joanne (I shall call her Jo) and me? Well we had some business of our own to undergo and undergo we did. We usually stayed the weekend in my holiday cottage on the South Coast -.spent time just being away from it all – venturing the long sandy beach in slow time and paddling the delicate waves and just simply lazing about and.