She was getting horny again, against her own will. She let out a deep sigh. WHY? “And…Lotta Cox´s “painless humiliating for the next century”...��there..” The man began to lift up her long, loose skirt. Why was she not running for the door? “Are..are they…expensive?”she asked with a voice she hardly could recognize. “I am sure we can…arrange a fair discount…little whore..” She could hear the door-bell ringing in the front room. Some-one arriving. Poetry-lovers, she hoped. The man had her skirt up. When we reached the paved road I showed her how to buckle her seat belt. She had been tugging the seam in her shorts in a futile attempt to get some relief from the material cutting into her pussy. Are those shorts hurting you? I asked her as she wiggled in her seat. She looked up at me with those big green eyes and nodded. If you want you can take them off so you can be more comfortable. She smiled at me, unbuckled her seat belt, quickly stripped the denim rag off of her body and began rubbing. More

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