It had been there all the time but it wasn’t until those little red bunnies whizzed by that it got noticed.She opened the envelope and discovered it...was a note from Sophie. Sophie would be out of town for a few days with Rhea on some urgent family business and should be back Saturday morning sometime. The note told Jennifer that there should be enough food in the refrigerator and the pantry until they returned but until then the place was hers. The note concluded with, “Good luck. See you. A bittersweet moment she would remember and learn to treasure.Mary knew exactly how to use her fingers and tongue to give the most pleasure to another female. Using both hands, she gently parted the young cunt lips to expose the little boatman between the pink folds.Rosie's whole body jerked as if an electric shock had passed through it as her aunt's tongue touched the tip of her clit. She lay, eyes closed and allowed the waves of pleasure to flow through her. The feeling was nothing like she. Don’t call it this way. Mom and dad could possibly hear us!”“But that’s how it is called... Masturbation. But if you feel better with ‘pumping the pussy’, ‘fingering’, ‘jill off’ or ‘beating the bean’ I will call it that way.”, I smiled.She once again turned bright red: “Stop it, please! Call it ‘masturbate’ but please don’t use the others again, O.K.?”“As you wish, my little prudish sis. By the way when did you start to ‘masturbate’?”“I think I started with it when I was 12. My friends told me. You craved her. You knew you'd want more. You needed more. You kiss her softly knowing that was a mistake you could not take. Her eyes told you that she was yours. Again you kissed her soft except this time she told you “don’t…” She was right. Trying to clear your head you thought of your wife asleep. You help her off the floor and walk her to the bathroom. You start the water and tell her to get in. You shut the glass watching the water run down her body. If you watched you might never.