They are so sensitive, a few seconds of being touched there is enough to send me into hysterics, and she very quickly realized that this was the place...to get the greatest effect from her tormenting. With my ankles shackled, I could not move my feet more than an inch or so, and she used fingers and fingernails to get me screaming and wriggling at every touch, until tears were running down my face as I laughed helplessly for her. Eventually, she ceased the torture. "I had better stop," she. No doubt she was already responsible for themultitude of tented pants among the boys in the room, my boyfriendincluded, his Han Solo trousers strained below the belt. It took me alittle to realize she was the source of my own arousal as well. My slaveLeia ensemble was by no means lacking in all the right places; I wasquite proud of the figure I've always worked hard for. But this girldefinitely earned the best costume prize that nestled in her deepcleavage.Roxy, as she called herself, could. She slowly opened her eyes. She smiled, turned her face and kissed me softly on the lips, “Hey yourself.” I wrapped my arms around her, reached one hand down and placed it on hers, helping her move the showerhead across her clit as my other hand cupped her breast, pinching and rolling her nipple between my fingers, slightly pulling on it.Her hand ran down my side, slipped effortlessly between my aching thighs while her finger traced along my wet slit and started to flick my clit real slow. I. It was obvious that the dyke was drunk. A smaller girl, I guess the larger dyke’s girlfriend, tried to pull the large girl away. "Just leave them alone, they’re just poser whores."Desire turned away from them. I could tell she was angry but she was "on stage" (that's what I call it when she goes into her theater chick mode) and she wasn't going to let anything get her down. She looked at me and I was like, "What the fuck was that all about?" "Just a skanky bitch that is jealous of women with.