It was a guilt-fueled letter, but I had to try to justify my actions (although I never told Gina what those actions were). Seeing it on paper didn’t...make me feel any better, though.It was late when I finally finished my letter to her, and my hand was cramped from all the writing. My pencil had gone from practically new to about three inches long. (I’d sharpened it every time I’d been unsure or upset, and I’d nearly whittled it down to nothing.)I carefully folded the nine pages, and stuffed them. Inone doorway I was bold enough to let my hand stray over Tony's cock. Iheard him gasp as I pressed my hand over it. His cock felt huge and itjerked into full hardness under my hand. His tongue filled my mouth as Imassaged his cock with the palm of my hand and I now desperately wantedto feel it in the flesh.Because this level of activity had never crossed my mind, I had notrefined anything much under my dress. I was still bare legged, whichseemed appropriate for summer, and my tits were still. More

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