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But not to worry, I would be jacking it off in a minute. Just down the hall. As I rounded the corner of the kitchen to the hallway, I was feeling dizzy and having hot flashes. I felt like I was drunk. It was like the cum was backed up so far it was leaking into my brain and causing me to be cum drunk. I had never needed a release so badly in my life. But as I rounded the corner I ran smack into Mandy, coming to the kitchen I assume. She had changed. Fuck me. She had changed into a white short skirt. It was one of those that are made out of sweat pant material. She wore it a lot. But now, with the dark legs coming out of them, the contrast, her flawless skin drank up the color and shone a perfect dark brown color. I lost all control. My hands were groping and Mandy protested, “Hey, get off!” This time it wasn’t a scream, and I couldn’t risk it going that route . . . but god dammit I was gonna fuck my perfect little twat, and I wasn’t asking permission. I put and arm. Bridget?” I had my upper body propped up on my elbows and watched Bridget’s hand descend on my pubes with trepidation, quite aware that this was going to be uncomfortable, if my experiences with plucking my eyebrows were anything to go by. I wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t real torture, but when she picked a hair at the top of my bush between the tongues of the tweezers and pulled, it stung. Then it was Mrs. Somerset’s turn, and she plucked with equal skill. This was going to be a long, long evening. They started talking between themselves, and I felt like a commodity, a piece of entertainment. Strangely, that thought did nothing to quell my arousal, and every little prick their plucking gave me could be felt deep inside my pussy. My stomach started to tremble, and I leaned back, resigning myself into my fate while they slowly worked their way downward. I tilted my head over the edge of the desk, and my mouth formed into a silent ring of wondrousness. I gasped. Erin was kneeling between.
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