I could almost taste the aroma wafting from my oozing, bubbling, soaking labia. He smiled. Alas, it reminded me of a very old movie with the villain s...orting a black handlebar mustache as he readies himself to ravish the frightened virgin. Happily, I quickly pushed that thought out of my mind and it morphed into that of a loving brother about to bring his loving sister into the maturity of sexual love. I smiled back, silently inviting him to enter into my warmth and wetness, inviting him to. I've said all I'm going to on the matter. You can believe it or not and I don't much care."The rest of the trip home was made in silence. Once in the house Nan went to our bedroom, grabbed a pillow and headed for the spare bedroom. I stripped, got in bed and lay there staring up at the ceiling until I fell asleep.I was sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee and reading the morning paper when Nan came into the room. She poured herself a cup of coffee and then went into the living room. I. She had virtually a male view of opportunistic sex. Even the supposedly non sexual choir uniform of tartan skirts, full white school monogrammed blouses… neck to wrist covering… and silly tartan neckties , couldn’t deflect from flaunting triple sexuality…they had it…the brunette; her long, long hair…the athletic thighs…the height…Erica…Bernard fantasised red lingerie. Beth…probably light blue or yellow items for her sweet intimate apparel arrange… her dumpling shaped breasts barely contained by. "Right, Fifty-two," George says to Carrie. "We'll try again now, but with Fifty here. Do you think you can do any better?" I'll try, Sir," Carrie responds. She doesn't sound very convinced."Well, then," says George, "you'd better start."Carrie looks across at me shyly. "I'm sorry about this," she says in an embarrassed tone. I'm puzzled by her words. She takes me by the hand and leads me to one wall. There's a ring set up above head height. Carrie points to it and lifts my arm. I understand.
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