You want to cum, don’t you, you little cumslut whore?” She nodded. “You like that word, don’t you-whore?” “Yes.” The word came trembl...ing out, her eyes never leaving his. “Tell me you’re my whore…my dirty little whore.” She stared at him for a few seconds, her hand still in her crotch, and then whispered, “I’m your dirty fucking whore.” “And you want to cum, don’t you?” “Yes…yes, I want to cum so badly,” she said, her voice low. “But I need to touch myself…I need my fingers in me…” . My hips press forward, raising just a little off the cushion as if trying to convince a lover to bury himself deeper. I close my eyes and moan, as my fingers move against me and I remember her tongue, so agile, and her fingers that knew all the places I longed to be touched. My pussy is getting really wet and beginning to twitch as I bring myself to the brink of orgasm. My head thrown back, my eyes closed, as I get ready for release. Suddenly, I feel moist, warm lips on my neck and a hand. But there was a doorknob only on one side of each door; if the door was closed, it couldn’t be opened from the opposite side. The occupants of each room had to open their doors at the same time. We were in and out of each other’s rooms a lot. Of course, if the other person’s interior door was closed, that meant the person wanted privacy. And we respected it.Catherine is an attractive woman, late twenties, recently divorced. Long brunette hair, sparkling blue eyes, full breasts and a. I quit looking her over when she spoke. Her tones were quiet and friendly.Unfortunately, they were also unintelligible. She quickly realized that I didn’t understand her. She then used signs that we should leave. She moved her fingers across her palm and then pointed over the small river. I nodded with a shrug. We took a knife for her and the hide blanket that had been covering her. I took a scabbard that I found which was better than what I had been using. She had a scabbard into which her.