The silken material felt lovely as it brushed against the sensitive, private skin of my thighs. I let my fingers travel to my tingling core. Experime...tally, I caressed and pulled at the hard little rosy bud—how sensitive it was!—and stretched the elegantly folded flesh that framed it. The tingling increased, as did the sense of urgency to reach some sort of end. I had no idea what outcome my young desiring body was striving for—no clue what to expect. All I knew was that each moment, each. " I went to hang up when I heard her say, "Wait, wait a minute, you forgot to tell me your name dear."I said, "Oh my, I guess I did, my name is Linda Jackson; I'll be there at 3." And then I quickly hung up the phone.The rest of the morning I was anxious, and a tiny bit nervous. I kept watching the clock and about Noon it hit me, I forgot to ask where the studio was. I ran to the phone and called yet again. When she answered I said, "Hi, I'm Linda Jackson and I forgot to ask you something."The. More

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