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”I did as she requested, making her a drink also. I returned to the couch, and she soon returned. What I was was mouth watering. A mature midle aged red head woman in a very red silk negligie that barely reached below her waist line. Her thighs were milky white, and sensually thick, with calves leading down to her feet with toenails painted red. Up top at the breast was a lace string which held it all together with small shoulder straps. She sat next to me on my right side, and leaned up. I noticed the Williams family talking to a few people from the church and caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar face before being hauled towards the band by my mother. ‘So Janet Wilson just told me that this is another fundraiser to move those damn otters. The band is local and they are friends of the youngest Williams boy, Josh or something.’ ‘Beavers mom, they want to move the beavers. Not otters.’ ‘Oh whatever! They are weird little creatures that keep flooding out the clearing here, that’s all. The sound of the shell fire was louder, closer, than it had been that morning. Clegg looked down at the milky coloured drink, pondering for a few moments whether he preferred the smoother French take on aniseed flavoured alcohol over the Greek or the Turkish. There wasn't much to choose, he decided, sinking the contents of the glass.Sam was closing the lid on his piano; the girls waving as they left. He came across to where Rick was sitting. "Time to go, Boss," he said. "You don't want to keep. If she felt the difference between the dry finger and the oily finger she didn't acknowledge it in any way. But when that finger began to probe her anal passage—sliding a little way in, withdrawing slightly, then pushing in even deeper—she actually took her hand off her mouth, turned her head and whispered "No!" as loudly as she dared.I, of course, not only ignored her but in one stroke wormed my finger all the way in, to the last knuckle. She started to cry out - "OH!" - but clapped her hand.
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