Or perhaps there was, but I'd never forgive myself. Earlier in theday I had been massaged, waxed and received a pedicure. Neon midnight bluenail polis... now adorned my toes. I had showered and shaved the hair from mylegs, underarms and pussy. Last night we had gone shopping for some slut clothes for me to wear tonight.I forewent that option of a very short denim skirt, a see through black blouseand black lace thigh high stockings for a more conservative look. After all,we didn't know what we. Not even a peep. Not after all the hints she’d been giving him all week. He knew this was the big day as far as he was concerned. This was the day he’d get to taste her, taste her from her very source. And just to remind him of this fact, right before he had his ‘maintenance spanking’ she had not only taken off her skirt, which was normal, but she had taken off her panties as well. That was another reason he didn’t protest, he always got a thrill knowing his cock was going to be so close to her. Although she was as prim and matronly in her youth as a woman of more senior years might be and possessed of a laugh more like that of a horse than a demure young lady, she was the lass to whom he was content to one day be able to call his own."Would you like a ride, sir?" asked one of the soldiers crouched in the shadow of the trench, his face lit up by the smouldering embers of his hand-rolled cigarette. His East London consonants were like gravel in the lieutenant's ears. "I'm sure Dobby. Naked. Limbs entwined." "Ohhhhh. Yes." My fingers twirling through her hair as I pull her mouth to mine. The first tentative kisses quickly ascending to lustful slatherings. Lips pressed hard together. Tongues dancing. Thrusting into saliva soaked caverns as her soaked cunt rubs wantonly on my thigh." Fuck, yes." Capturing her bottom lip between my teeth. Tugging. Feeling her heated, moaning, desperate, whimpering breath fluttering across my face. The softness of her breasts pushing hard into.