She knew she should tell him, beg him to clean up the mess she was making (that was rule nine; she always cleaned up the messes she made). Casually, ...without taking his eyes from the game, he reached out his arm and put his index finger near her lips. She kissed it, hungrily, then opened her mouth wide. He rewarded her by pushing his finger in, letting her suck on it. She felt so submissive, cuffed and kneeling, her ass sore and her clit desperate. Another drip. She was going to be in. Somewhere, on some deep level, I still had to admit that I loved the kid. That I missed him, even. Or maybe I just missed the idea that I had my own family. I couldn't be sure.It's what had finally decided things for me, though. It was the pebble too many; the fucking straw that had broken the camel's back. I was ranting and raving before, angry, upset, hating the world. Possibly, though, maybe even probably, I would have eventually calmed down. I would have eventually found it within myself to. I brought my knees up some and let them fall slightly to the side, knowing my whole pussy was showing, except for my clit, which was so swollen even the fisherman out on the lake had to have seen it. I knew I was getting noticably wet since the wind blowing by seemed to feel colder between my legs with each gust. I had to do something. So I roll over to my hands and knees, ass pushed out and up just a bit as I take my time packing my things up. I go over to the showers and just stand under it. Still he nibbled her clit and slurped at her opening, gathering in all her liquid until she begged him to stop, “No more, no more, please, no more…”He rested his cheek against her wetly pulsing pussy and inhaled the rich mix of scents–pussy juices, leather, sweat.“Kiss my toes,” she said, her voice a bare whisper. She raised her foot to his mouth. “Lick your cum off my foot.” He leaned forward reluctantly, but the sight of her simple foot moved him too much. Slowly, he took the big toe in his.