The man she’d once called father probably died all over again in that grave of his./oOo\ She flirted. She smiled. She started using. Then she starte... selling their dope like a pro. Then she started selling herself--willingly of course. It was all about free will with them. They got off on it. She was their dirty little bitch with the Navajo blood coursing through her veins. She was one of a kind. Fucked like an animal. Clawed their backs. A blowjob? $100. Triple that for the pussy. Give. My name’s Lucy and this is Jess, I recently grew a bit and need an entire new wardrobe, so I’m starting with underwear.” Leaning in I say, “I, um, don’t fit any of mine right now.”“Well I can certainly see that whatever caused the growth did well, you look amazing! If you’re after a new wardrobe I can help you out.”“Thank you! I’d also like a few things for my girlfriend, preferably the naughtier pieces.” with a knowledgeable wink, she replies “I know exactly what you’re after. I’ll just have. Jesus, he said to himself, would I like to get into that tender little pussy. Every time he saw her he was hungry for her, and as he gazed lewdly at the teenager across the lawn from him, his cock seemed to answer with a throbbing, grinding beat against the tight elasticity of his pants. Jesus, yes... he sighed with relish.Richard Hink was a tall, well-built man only a few years older than Sandy's mother, with a shock of curly, coal-black hair that constantly fell boyishly down over his. "Have you thought any more about last night?" he asked.I held his hand by way of answer and we continued holding hands until we got to Philadelphia. We got out of the bus and proceeded through the visitor's center. After touring Independence Hall, we were let loose in the museum. Art and I hung around at a statue of Ben Franklin."So you're ready?" he asked."Ready as I'll ever be." I responded.We held hands again on our way back to the bus. A few people gave us funny looks. Art put his arm.