By now she was moaning and thrashing about telling how fucking hot I was making her. I ran my hand up her thigh and was abruptly stopped in my advance...up her skirt. I grabbed both her hands, placed them above her head, holding them with one hand while I shoved my other one up her skirt. To my surprise instead of finding a soaking wet pair of panties, I was tickled pink to find what felt like a nice 10 inch hard throbbing fuckstick. I never skipped a beat, in one quick movement I ripped her. . touch yourself!” “I’m not sure what you mean, Beth.” “Amy, don’t you ever touch yourself? You know, masturbate?” asked Beth rather matter-of-factly. Beth’s parents had been west-coast hippies back in the day and a copy of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” was prominently displayed on her mother’s bookshelf. “Ummm, no. I don’t. At least I don’t think I do. I mean I know what that means, I just never tried or really even know what to try.” My friendship with Beth was so deep that even a discussion as. More

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