He found himself staring at her now as she continued watching the passing crowd outside."They've stopped believing. They don't believe in the magic an...ymore. And because of that he has disappeared." Santa Claus?" You don't believe? What am I saying? Of course you don't. Adults have long since stopped believing."A memory of a time surprisingly not long ago in his thirty-year past crept up on him. "Actually I used to believe in him in my own way for the longest time." How's that?" I believed in. He was so dirty talking over the messaging and told me he was going to destroy my lively bubble ass So we decided to meet up on the Saturday night after we had been out with friends and had a few drinks in us.So Saturday night came about and around 12 o'clock at night I recieved a text off Mark and told me where he was and to come round in a taxi and pick him up. I agreed and jumped stray into the taxi. We finally got the the Pub Mark was drink and he came out jumped into the back with me and. Okay, 'purely' is probably a poor choice of words. But the 17 year old brunette, who was so used to googling her homework, had been stumped on an English literature assignment covering some of the Elizabethan poets other than Shakespeare.She had to do a report on Christopher Marlow and she was unsure of the definition of the word 'wonton' in this poem I Must Have Wanton Poets. It sounded kind of gay or even kinky. But instead of using a real or even on-line dictionary, she was just going to. I brushed against her trimmed patch. My middle finger stroked up and down her pussy’s slit. She was hot and wet. My finger slipped inside and my thumb caressed her clit.As she got more excited with my ministrations, I kissed her mouth, her lips, her breasts, her nipples. I inserted a second finger now and she moaned, parted her legs more and her hips moved around, then up, then down, and around some more. As her breathing quickened, I sped up my pushing fingers and pressed her clit a little.