Noticing the time, Stacy realized that the morning paper had arrived, and one glance out the front door confirmed it. She slipped on her sandals, boun...ded down the front steps and knelt to pick up the large Sunday edition with the two hands it required. Two doors down, Mr. Gibson, a retired teacher from her school, was shuffling down the driveway in his robe to do the same.“Morning, Mr. Gibson!” she smiled and waved, holding the paper to her waist, and making no attempt to cover. My pussy had grown so wet thinking about it that I had gone straight to my room to masturbate. It was having the same effect now. My fingers went instinctively to my pussy and I closed my eyes and started making slight moaning noises as I rubbed my clit. There was a sudden noise to my left and I quickly stopped.My step brother emerged into the light and I let out a sigh of relief. "You scared the shit out of me Brandon." I told him as he started to laugh. "What are you doing here anyway?" I. " Yes. He has bought loads of art of naked women at auction and there was some war in Argentina and Paraguay ages ago, and three figurines of naked ladies about this high..." Emma brought her hands up about four inches apart and then continued, " ... were made of gold. They were squirrelled out of the country and have been in a private collection but our friend, Jaroslav, bought them at auction five years ago. They are going back to auction next month." OK. How much?" He bought them for three. She had just put her towel down when there was a big commotion behind her, followed by a man and woman in business attire and Robert Hartwell, the camp director, also dressed in a suit that was much too hot for the summer's day. His face was as white as a blank sheet of paper."What's the meaning of this?!" cried Robert, sweat pouring down his face. "It's an outrage! Campers and counselors frolicking about in the nude! Disgusting! It's immoral!"The campers were gawking at the scene. The clothed.