God's gifts to me are of another kind. I am beautiful. Gorgeous, really.I say this with all humility, for it is God's gift to me; I did nothingto earn... or merit being beautiful. I just am. (Well, okay, I guess Goddoes have a little help from the beautician and a few other folks; everygirl wants to look her best, after all.)I used to flash. I'd go braless and wear tight T shirts that showed mynipples. I'd wear a micro-mini skirt and no panties; then, I'd bend overto retrieve a dropped item or. He used his lips and teeth on her neck while freeing one of his hands from the shirt. Her throat was salty-sweet. He could feel her pulsing jugular vein under his tongue. His mother sighed and shivered.His cock was rigid. He shoved it against Candy's back. He had never thought of his dick as a muscle, but the more he fucked, the stronger it got. He felt like he could ram it into his mother's pussy and lift her off the floor with it.When Evan grabbed her crotch, the silky material soaked through. I was in Bristol at the time of the accident, studying for a business degree, determined and driven to make my own way in the world. Melissa was also there, studying modern art. She had what some people would say a bad reputation, highly sexed, some would even say she was a slag. I was never one to judge, being brought up as the only child in a staunch Christian background, I was taught respect, honesty and definitely no sex before marriage. I was captain of the squash team, six foot tall, lean. This was the nearest I'd got to foreplay in years. "Do you think she'd like to feel my cock?" My husband didn't have time to answer as his friends hand went from my panties to his zip. I heard him lower it then fumble between us and I felt the heat from his naked cock against my belly. I began to struggle again, but again it was useless. My husband had promised that his friend could fuck me and there was nothing I could do about it. His friend took my hand and slid it between us and I knew.