My legs were spread and oil was gently rubbed in to the puffy lips of my pussy, fingers stroking tenderly over my exposed clitoris. My hips jerked to ...he rhythm of those fingers, my thighs desperate to hold onto that hand. Fingers tweaked over my nipples, squeezed and caressed the globes of my breasts. I tried to direct their hands or to touch myself to give myself the release I so desperately craved at that moment, and my hands were slapped away, a gentle reminder not to fight or to move. She was aware of words being spoken. She knew Bill was speaking because she could feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest where it was pressed against her skin but she didn't understand the words. Words didn't mean anything to her. There were only these wonderful, ecstatic feelings that she couldn't get enough of. She was aware of someone else talking but didn't understand those words either. Who was that? Yes, it was her mom but she didn't know what she was saying. It really didn't. More

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