The sound changed pitch, slowly going up and down, almost like a choir. Maybe it was a choir? There were lots of myths and legends about ghosts singin.... And in the odd quiet of the endless fall, it did sound almost musical, haunting, and sad. It reminded him of Mary; not the Mary he knew, but Mary the ghost, haunting his old home, and carrying with her enough sadness that she hadn’t gone where she was supposed to go when she died.That’s what this place felt like. Sadness, and regret.The ground. As her eyes opened my fingers grazed her pussy. She gasped excitedly.I ordered her to spread her legs. She obeyed instantly. I looked down and I was delighted to see that her pubic hair is as red as the hair on her head. I gently moved my finger to the entrance of her pussy and slowly worked it up and down through her dripping wet slit. She has a beautiful cunt. If you were to see only her pussy in a picture you would swear she's a much younger girl. Her opening is just a slim, tight line.I. More

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