“There were no liens recorded on either and the owner was listed as a Delaware corporation with a Washington DC phone number that was in those reser...ved for government,” she said.“The property tax on the Montana site was twelve cents an acre, with the property description as ranch and range land. The property tax on the fifteen thousand acres of swamp and bayou was sixty thousand dollars. I guess crawdads, gators, muskrat, and water moccasins added value,” she added with a laugh.I wondered how. Opening my mouth I swallowed the beer she poured in.?My, aren’t you just a bad little girl,? she said as she held up and stared at the bottle. ?There is a sign right there that says this isn’t allowed.? She pointed at the sign that listed the many rules of the gym. All I could do was shrug my shoulders. Beer and glass bottles were prohibited but who cares as long as you don’t spill or break the bottle. At the moment I couldn’t care less about rules of the gym. All I could think about was the. Her grip firms. His hands meet at her shoulders and peel the dress down exposing her warm flawlessly soft flesh to the cool night air. He marvels briefly at her wonderfully inviting proportions, somehow innocently erotic even now. His eye contact is loose as her hands on his body prove distracting. He instantly reasserts dominance by almost whipping the dress down forcing her arms to her side. She is eagerly at his mercy, but… ‘Some one might see.’ She’s almost breathless now. ‘Some one may. They both screamed in shock and sat up, looking at me. The girl nearest me quickly moving away on her hands and knees and sat to the left of her friend.“Nice arse” I said when she sat down. “Take you knickers off so I can see it properly.”“Eww, what are you doing, with your wilily, and no I won’t take my knickers off.” She replied shocked.“It’s called wanking, don’t you wank your cunts girls? You know rub your finger along your cunt, maybe put it inside.”“What’s a cunt?” she asked.“You know,.