“Dress up, knickers down, now what?”I want you to remember Debra. I want you to remember how keen you were to get between her thighs, to lick her ...ed lips, the way you lifted her bum and her pussy towards your mouth. Do you remember that, have you got that picture.“Yes,” came the quivering response.Stroke your pussy, slide your finger up and down, circle your clit. Open your legs as wide as your knickers will allow and then push your hand down there. I want you to get a tit out and squeeze your. I did not even the loss of the useof my legs to throw me into depression. I have my beautiful things - mygarments, my art, music, and I live in Paris - the best city in theworld.But then I was blessed with the waif. In French we say galopin, but waifis one of the nicer English words, or so I think.As the song goes, she came in through the bathroom window. Not a shethen - still very much a child, only 12, with her sex not fullydetermined. She had escaped, as I think we can call it,. I was coming out of the ladies room and he wouldn't let me pass." What do you mean? Who is this guy? How do you know his name if you think he works on the fifteenth floor?" It was nothing, honey. You know how guys get at Christmas parties."I did know how guys got. I also knew how women got. After a couple of drinks they wanted to kiss every man they saw. Just that day Miss Prentiss from bookkeeping, she still called it bookkeeping, had pressed her slender body to me and shyly pushed her lips to. Alsofor fun I sent a vine down into my ass. It hurt when it pushed into me,but I found a way in. I was pleasuring myself. My body was in a sexualrhythm and I dared not stop. Each push, tug and pull seemed to make mybody more heavy. My breasts were filling up with something. My pussy wasleaking. My hands went to my breasts and my tentacly vines gave them agood squeeze. My own golden nectar was oozing out of my engorged nipples!My other hand dug into my pussy, and it pulled out even more nectar.