”“Okay, good girl.”Oh, holy hell! I was quite sure if I hadn’t been sitting down, my knees would have buckled again. And again, another viscer...l response, now not just to the voice, but the voice calling me a “good girl”! I could feel the liquid starting to slowly run down more and more from deep inside me, running down my vaginal walls, rushing over my g-spot, gushing out my love hole, and flowing from my lips, drenching my panties, as if there was even a dry spot left on them.What the actual. She wasn’t wearing any undergarments this day as she left the house in a mood. She began slowly teasing her nipples, pulling and twisting on them before lifting each one to her mouth to suck, and lightly bite each one, as she slid her hand between her legs. She could feel her building wetness begin to ooze out of her and down her butt crack. Lizzie gingerly began rubbing her clit building the moisture before reaching into her purse to grab a toy for just this occasion. “I have to have something. We say a hasty good-bye to our friends, ignoring the knowing looks on their faces. The cold air shocks me as we step outside and my breath fogs up almost before it leaves my mouth. Shivering, we huddle as close together as we can get without being inside each other. "Cold out tonight, probably snow, you think?" She whispers as we walk down the street toward my car. "I love the snow, it’s so pretty. How did you get here tonight? Can I take you home?" I chatter, eager to be out of the cold as. She wrote, “I have a naughty confession to make. I just got off to your picture.”I’m used to men saying and doing things like that. Yes, guys, it is appreciated and I do enjoy the flattery and attention. I did just mention that I’m a showoff, right? However, just be warned—for me and probably all ladies in general—just because you like our pictures or prose does not mean that we necessarily want to meet you, have cybersex with you, or talk dirty. If we feel like getting nasty with you, you’ll.