I am not any kind of a lady!I was spawned in a ditchBy a mother who left me there,Naked and cold andtoo hungry to cry;I never blamed her.I am sure she...left hopingThat I’d have the good sense to die!Then, of course, there’s my father...I am told that young ladiesCan point to their fathersWith maidenly pride;Mine was some regimentHere for an hour,I can’t even tell you which side!So of course I became,As befitted my delicate birth,The most casual brideOf the murdering scum of the earth!DON. You clench your toy and your honeypot as best as you can and slowly crawl to your master."About time puppy!" He reaches down, finds the chain and pulls one link out ever so slowly. I'm in excitement overload, keagled honeypot restricting the chain from falling out only to have it nudge against my gspot and pulled hard, escaping my honeypot only to stop the next link from exiting. I continue to drip as the chain starts to get ever so close to the carpet."GO FETCH!" My head jerks up and I see it. Which "arm" of the lake was this? What was the underwater slope? What was the water temperature? What was its depth at "pool?" After my fourth "I don't know," he suddenly smiled, looked around a moment, and somehow seamlessly switched the topic to the dahlias in the east flower bed. That I DID know about, and we were soon immersed in a detailed conversation about spring flowers.I showed them around: the Grand Tour, both outside and inside, then I enlisted Fred's help opening a large bottle of. When Irene arrived at home, her first way was to the toilet where she cleaned her cunt with paper tissues and carefully washed her panties.Again she had to hide them under her bed for drying and went over to the cabinet in the other room to get some new ones. But as the day before, her ma was busy there with the clothes and so Irene had another pantyless afternoon ahead.At the hurried departure of the boy, they hadn’t made any appointment for the next day. And Irene was deeply in need. He had.