‘Because when the elf maiden showed herself, the queen’s huntsman mistook her for a witch and decided to kill her right then and there.’ ‘No!�...� cried Bell. The death of the elf maiden would surely end the story, and a lousy end that would be. ‘Why did he mistake her for a witch?’ her mother asked. ‘The queen was the real witch, and a very wicked one at that. She’d cast a spell on those who served her at court to see all that which was evil as good, and that which was good as evil. The huntsman,. I perch on the bench, unfasten my top, and flip on the headlights before showing her the wide-open road.She kneels dead center and studies the swollen ripple I've been buffing to a high-gloss finish.Dispensing with preliminaries, her tongue probes for the recess where my fingers had burrowed, dips daintily, then zigzags up to my pinpoint and settles there with gentle but mindblowing push-pull strokes. Her eyes - jade and hypnotic - laugh at my undoing.From outside our cocoon, I hear the Jones. "I love you Jaz," (her nickname for me), and another,"Fuck my cherry John, I belong to you."It took time, to pose her just right but they looked like she was awake and enjoying a sex fantasy about the big brother everyone knew she idolized and adored.At the time I really did not plan to do anything with them, they were just for me. I mean who knew when I would be able to fuck her (or anyone else) again. I just wanted to remember today. After all, it was my Birthday.My cock was pounding hard. I only ever did this with at least a knee length skirt so it was not that daring but it is still felt very sexy to sit in a pub full of blokes knowing that your pussy was open to the fresh air. I would always be very careful that no one would ever see though. But somehow when you are doing that you just seem to look sexier anyway-you wear a sort of sign on your forehead that you are not wearing any underwear, and although there is no logical explanation you seem to attract lots of attention.