Sometimes he would remember his own garden back home and the many beauties he was proud to have and care for. His prize was an older orchid that may h...ve been seen by others as having passed her prime. Yet the storyteller loved her still and saw in her an ageless, simple beauty. She had large, almost voluptuous flowers that hung with the weight of their bounty. Her colors were rich with shades of pink, auburn and red against a milky whiteness that was striking in its contrast. Still, he was. My hand stopped as I reached her hairy mound, it was much coarser than Pat’s or Vicky’s, and more of it, then I slid my hand further down and felt the heat that her pussy was emanating.I let my middle finger follow the crack of her lips which felt as they parting themselves, and I let it rest on her clitoris, and started rubbing with the circular motion that Vicky had taught me.Nadia broke the silence, she asked me where did I learn to do what I was doing, saying that it was very pleasant, I. More

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