We are from, well, it doesn’t matter. In the Caribbean. I was born in Martinique.”“Ah,” answered Jonathan. “That explains it.” He was sile...t for a moment. His look was penetrating but not discourteous. “Ladies, will you excuse us for a moment?” He turned to Gérard. “May I have a word with you in private, Gérard?”The two walked a few paces away. Around them the music was beginning to slow. It was dusk now, but to Gérard’s surprise there was still light. Not from the torches, those were familiar. My hand glistens from your wetness. WHAP! ... WHAP! The brush lands on the backs of your thighs. I grab your thong and pull it down and off, then pull your legs apart. My hand runs over your cheeks again. WHAP! ... WHAP!You are crying now. You pull your hands around and wipe the tears out of your eyes as my hand slides under you to cup your wet pussy. My finger slides up and down tracing the slit, bumping across your clit with each stroke.The brush starts again, WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!Each hit. My sister, Bailey, and i have had a good relationship almost all my life. I haven't seen her in 2 years because of some family issues with my dad, but they had them resolved i thought. My sister was a 17 year old with the body of a porn star. She was only 4'11,but she had the body to make up for it. She had perfect size 36C tits that gave me a boner almost every time she showed cleavage. Her ass was perfect to say the least and her figure was to die for. I have dreamt about having her for. It was a slow climb, much different from how it felt being a guy. The spark was inside of me, growing and wanting to explode. I became aware of how hard and quick my breathing had become, my hand now vigorously working inside of my panties.“Oh my God,” I said to myself in a breathy voice. “Oh my god, oh my god!” I repeated.My body tensed up as the spark inside of me exploded and rushed through my body from head to toe. I arched my back from the bed and squeezed my legs together. I opened my.