Being a good Catholic girl, he hadn't even taken her cherry until their wedding night!Once again, as she cast her eyes around the pool, either they we...e with their wives, or every bloke who appeared to be on their own she wouldn't give a second look to. But she was starting to get horny! The book she was reading clearly wasn't helping, but couple that together with the fact that it had been two and a half years since she had the feeling a man pleasure her, she was now more than ever ready to. She was rightfully proud of her body which certainly overflowed her stays and spilled from her fancy shift with its narrow, lacy straps. The word "ripe" was the only one I could think of at the time. I decided she was ready to pluck and smiled at my interior joke."I've seen his work," I said. "He's not fit to live much less associate with honest people or good women." And I suppose you fancy yourself his equal." I'm as good as any man and better than that brutal, fat, cowardly, fart-faced. Their families lived next door to each other, at numbers 32 and 34 Mortons Lane in a small rural village respectively. Each family lived on their small holdings where they grew fruit and vegetables, raised poultry for eggs and each had a cow grazing in the back yard to provide them with milk. The young men did everything together, they rode together, they fished together and, it seemed that they would be best mates for the rest of their lives. What then, I hear you ask dear reader, could. ” “Oh, that’s alright then,” his voice carried a hint of sarcasm, “you have the keys for these things, right?” “Shush. Now eat... slave!” She lowered herself to him and running her fingers through his hair pulled him to her aching sex. The tenderness of his tongue parting her wet folds made her gasp. With soft, delicate attention to her clit, she punctured the air with airy gasps of encouragement. Each silken caress broadcast the vivid fusion of sexual pleasure and electricity into her body..