I homed in on a fellow, not too tall, but with large, brown, sensitive eyes, wearing a Greenpeace t-shirt and roomy shorts and sandals. He looked to b...e my type. I slowly moved my position so that my body was facing him, not on a whim, but feeling trim, out on a limb. Then I slowly started spreading my legs to give him and him alone a good shot of my sweet cunny with its triangle of blond hair, so fair and rare. I was a true blonde. As I spread my luscious thighs apart I glanced over under his. This is a real story which contains sexual features in it and therefore I kindly request that I will not be responsible for any miss happening. If u likes the story u can mail me on or My name is Timmy. I am now eighteen but my story begins 12 years ago. My mother Wanda was a single mom who had little money and an urge to party. She didn’t like being tied down and being a mother. I, of course, thought the world of her because I didn’t know she was uninterested in me. One day when I was six. Hayley reminded you, didn't she?"Dave surrendered. "Yes," he said rather grumpy."So, will you and the girls be staying here through Christmas? Please, David? I really don't want it to be just me and the girls again." Hold on." Dave put the phone down and covered the mouthpiece. "She wants us to stay there until Christmas."Emily and Hayley looked at each other, smiled and then shouted "Yes!" at the same time."Olivia?" David, I have never met your sister. I have no way of knowing whether I will. ’ He slapped her on the bottom, making her squeal. Her skirt fell around her shins, the cloth caressing her buttocks. As Constance climbed the steps, feeling like a condemned woman on her way to the gallows, or the stake, or the executioner’s block, she was vividly aware of the way her legs rubbed together. No metal was in the way, and when she squeezed her thighs together, she felt the wonderful friction on her cunny lips, and clitoris. She climbed onto the platform, and the crowd whistled.