Your cunt muscles clutch at it as it sinks deeper into your hot, tight hole. When your finger is as deep as you can push it, you stop and just feel it...inside you. Your finger feels the walls of your cunt squeezing it, soaking it with your heat. You add a second finger and then your fingers move outward, slowly withdrawing from your heat until just the tips of your fingers part your soft lips. Slowly they move back into your wet depths, pauses, and then move out again. Your pelvis moves forward. "All the rest of the day I did my best to get used to wearing a skirt,but the bra, no matter how much I hated it, did make that sandpaperfeeling go away, which was a big relief. The downside was that wearing abra made my small breasts stand out more, and everyone could see them. Igrabbed a soda and went out the back, just to sit on the porch, thinkabout what was happening to me, and probably cry a little. That's whereI was when I heard her."Hi there! I'm Beth! What's your name?"Looking up I saw. Of course it was impressive now with the snow making everything more visible. There were several groups of animals roaming around for food, and the white background made them stand out remarkably. The snow covering everything also made the predators stand out more clearly.By the time we were done looking at our new view the men had finished unloading so I called them up to take a look too. Soon enough they'd all done their version of oohing and awing and we closed up and headed back to the. “Mr. Mullins.”The customer looked up. His brown eyes were wide. “Pip,” he asked with raised eyebrows.“Yes, sir! It’s me,” mused the waifish server.“You’re the bartender?”“Yes, sir!”“Really? But you’re only…”“You only have to be nineteen here in Idaho,” declared the blue-eyed twink.“Oh okay!”“So what can I get you,” Pip inquired gesturing flamboyantly.“Whiskey neat. Thanks!”“Coming right up. May I start you a tab, Mr. Mullins?”“Sure,” the man pulled out his wallet.“Thank you, sir. I’ll be right.