I stirred my twat up. He would stare at me with such a wanton lust and see that I was a wicked thing.A slut.“Daddy!” I moaned as I came, my toes c...rling as the pleasure rippled through me. It was wonderful.I sucked the sweet cream off my fingers, loving the flavor, and set to work. I coated my pubic hair in pink foam and started shaving. I wasn't afraid. Bad girls didn't get afraid. We acted. We took what we wanted.We shaved our pussies to be wicked, wanton sluts.I groaned as the razor raft. Unless it was toleration – which isn't really a word, either. What I know is that Beth Ann DID NOT make any snide comments about the wild animal thrashing about in my pants, and I was eternally grateful for that kindness."Where's Brian?" I asked when she hopped in the car and buckled up without looking back at the cabin."Jim Bell invited him to work at the marina where you rented the houseboat, doing odd jobs, and cleaning up boats. He started a little while ago, and I wasn't thinking about it. More

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