Her tits really weren’t very little, except compared to Cassandra’s. It’s just that they were so round and perfect. They were half globes, perfe...tly round and firm, no sag whatsoever, with the cutest little nipples seated in the exact center. They were, simply, perfection. Her pussy, however, was another matter. Oh, it looked perfect as well. Totally shaved and exposed, it looked like a little girl’s instead of a woman’s. Her pussy lips were small and thin, tightly closed to keep her vagina. ?Petti smiled. ?You want my brother. Sniffen, come here!? A moment later, a middle aged man with gray hair, and an unfortunate pot belly, dressed in a cardigan striped shirt and khakis—?Slave to J.Crew? was how Petti described Sniff—came up, holding a bit of register tape. ?I’m just-just going over the numbers, Petti.? Sniffen Courcheval said in a shaking voice. ?You said I couldn’t go to my Stamp Club meeting early tonight until I worked out the snarl—?Petti waved her hand. ?Forget that. Or. More

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