We had been lovers in college, and I felt a little guilty about never calling her, but when it comes down to it I didn't want anyone in my corporate w...rld to know I liked this unusual woman. She was a free spirit, quite apart from the herd mentality of big business. She is one of those people who sets her own course in life, ignoring the conventions of the times. In the 40s she would have been Rosie the Riveter, the 50s would have found her immersed in the Beat scene, but since she came of age. Pawing the ground, his tail slapping at his twitching rump, the black stallion dined noisily on the child's sweet-tasting pussymeat. He chomped on her cuntlips, then darted his tongue into her slit. He chewed, his huge mouth covering every inch of her sizzling hot pussy.Lynne was out of her mind. The pleasure was exquisite. Ten times better than playing with herself. She responded to his chomping mouth and slashing tongue. "My clit," she screeched. "Bite my clit!"Back arched, she humped up. She didn’t have to remind him. Jack shucked his clothes almost faster than she could follow, then he was there, taking her into his arms, his body hot against her cooler one. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. This, a hot male body against her, was what she had missed even more than the actual pleasure of the marriage bed. She had even a name for it: skin hunger. Her skin hunger was so deep that she doubted it would ever be sated. She rubbed herself against him, trying to imprint his masculinity. When we arrived, I was in a foul mood. The last day of driving was nearly 11 hours, and I was bored. Now I had to stay on a farm in North Dakota for a week, and then drive another three days back to New Jersey. Swell.We pulled into the driveway, and my spirits brightened immediately. Joline came bounding out of the house to greet us. It took me less than a moment to realize that my gangly, awkward, flat-chested cousin had become a farm girl fox. She wore her hair long, her clothes loose, and.