Then she heard the front door open. "Rachel!" She heard her mother's voice call out from the front door. "Shit!" she thought to herself. She looked d...wn at her pussy, her bush was already sopping with juices again, she had to finish. Her jet black pubes matched her hair, dark and wavy. She hated her hairy monster, her secret pleasure that needed to be satisfied, that needed to be touched. "I'll be there in a minute!" she called down. Then she turned again to her vagina. She stuck her finger in. I just called a place that didn’t sound serious and I hung up on them.”“Yes sir, Mr. O’Dell. His name is Ronnie Cartright.”“Does he play an instrument?”“Yes, he is a piano player.”“Any good?”“Not bad, but the stuff he likes is not very popular around here.”“Like what kind of music is that?”“Oh, Motown and Texas boogie.”“Cool. Please have him call me.”I hung up and wondered. A piano player named Ronnie Cartright. Couldn’t be. I called three other music stores and left my information. Each one. More

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