He moaned as I felt the back of his head, checking for blood or a raised place. His lips pressed against the top of my breast which gave me such a war... feeling. I prolonged my search for an imagined head wound, enjoying the hesitant movement of his lips, now open, was making against my skin. I slid forward on the lip of the box as far as I could and let my dress ride up exposing my bare legs. I positioned my feet flat against the box and raised my thighs to support his arms. I comforted him. My face is "done up" conservatively except for my nails and lip-stick,all deep red.I give the impression of a typical southern matron. I see you approach and catch your eye and hold it for a moment before I drop my gaze to your crotch.By the time you stop in front of me a huge bulge has me slowly running my tongue over my red lips before I look up to see your handsome face.We introduce ourselves and you ask if I've ever been to the "secret spring"?When I say no,you ask if I'd like to see it? I. More

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