_______________Cagnazzo had been drifting in the updraft, feeling the warm currents lifting him, roaming, listening for the right place to land. It h...d been too many years of confinement, too long since he had enjoyed the music, too long since he had hunted. He had flown over many locations, heard many tones, jumbled together, clanging, rancorous noise, nothing pure and true. Soaring up a valley breeze over a range of stony hills, he had heard a muted vibration below - soft, subtle, but very. Josee, she thought, suffered from the same thing that most beautiful young teen girls did. Guys wanted to fuck them because of their beauty, but it was an ego trip more than trying to please the girl. If a guy could fuck an exceptionally beautiful girl, it seemed to make him feel good. Pam had never understood such a mentality.Josee wanted to ask her mother many things, but she didn’t this wasn’t the time. She looked at her mother with warm eyes, seeing her as such a sexy woman, a woman with. Her motherly instincts let her know that a mother's chest is where a boy feels most protected and relaxed, and on top of it all she knew that her thirteen yearold masterbated with her panties, which led her to believe that Michael wasn't much different. "Do you want to see mommy's breasts honey?" The words came out of her mouth like they were shot out of a cannon. She was willing to do anything so her baby would feel comfort and protection. Michael just nodded yes, and she pulled the night gown. As far as their intellectual well-being was concerned, Amanda was an enthusiastic consumer of literary fiction, albeit the works of Miss Austen and the like that have been dubbed "Chick Lit", and Estelle had demonstrated some artistic skill in her handling of watercolours and in her abilities as a needlewoman. Amanda had become proficient in the playing of the cello, a particularly suitable instrument for a young lady, I feel. Something about the way it is clutched warmly between the thighs, I.