“Okay, okay,” Emily’s voice teetered on the brink of defensive, “I’m testing the waters first.” “Besides having the cock that made you is teen a singular experience,” amateur Kim was entranced with the idea and her voice lilted with the thought, “It was an orgasm of his that made you – why not give him a better one?” If Kim had looked behind her as she turned up the trail she would not have missed the ghost of a smile that Emily let slip onto her face or the subtle touch to her own breast that followed. Emily The elevation rose fast causing her legs to burn with the effort. They had made good time over the past two hours, and the sun had begun to dip into the horizon, casting long and dark shadows through the woods. The foliage was dense, and the tall trees rolled off on either side of her creating and eerie depth to her surrounds – like a place that one might find in a Fantasy novel or film. Perhaps elves would leap from behind the trees and ask if they were here to see Legolas or Galadriel. Even if they had, her thoughts were elsewhere. During sex ed class, many years ago she had learned about the idea of sex. However, in this country, it was not well explained. But she had wondered from where she had come. Before hand she had not thought of it: even when she woke up one morning asian to find her sheets, between her legs, soaked in blood – a nuisance that persisted to this day. Her true education had happened when, in her junior year, she had walked into the girl’s bathroom to find Kim and their math teacher engaged in wild screaming and grunting. She had seen the older mans cock deep inside Kim’s eighteen-year-old body – the shock of Emily’s arrival blowjob had sent it throbbing away. The next five weeks were among the most dramatic, as Plan B failed, and her period became later and later. This was how Emily really got an education on sex and how it worked. From that point on she had always wondered how she was made. The trauma of that moment had often flooded her mind when boys put pressure on her for sex. The truth a well-toned guy was hot, but they never really did much for her. I mean, sure, Chris Pine as captain Kirk often gave her wistful longings for the iritic captain. Her mind turned to something she wanted to hide but didn’t know why. Her father. She had caught him in the shower and saw his upper body, his rather well-defined pecks and even his slightly large stomach seemed to fill her with comfort. Then just a few hours ago she had seen his cock. It had filled her with a sensation she had not recognized. A burning hit inside her, just below her belly button. It refused to go away, even now the sensation lingered, leaving a warm cumshot depth inside her. Why would it be wrong – he had provided her with housing, food, education – he was the best man in her life by far, the strongest and, frankly, the most respectable. He had come to every one of her track team meats and helped her with every assignment she ever had. “We should turn back,” Kim’s voice broke Emily’s deep thoughts as they marched up the trail. Emily was covered in a thin layer of sweat. It beaded between her breasts and around her eyes. She was certainly ready to see the cool waters of Bowman lake one more time. She came to a stop behind Kim and took a deep breath. Kim’s body glinted, even with her darker skin, in the light of the sun. “Okay,” Emily replied. “You were quiet, anything interesting going on in that noggin of yours,” Kim asked. “Just the things you said,” Emily replied, “And that time last year I walked in on you and Mr. Masters.” Kim grunted, “Bastard came in me, asshole.” He shook his head. � � Oh shit! He looked around the room, cumshot not quite knowing where amateur he was. He nestled the head in between her soft pink petals and began blowjob to thrust slowly, the silky walls of her pussy massaging his stiff rod. But if you want to know about your former slave I’ll tell you on two conditions. “You get so hot when I take these off,” I groaned. I grabbed her hips, and guided them backward, watching the conflict of pleading mercy and voracious hunger battle within her. “Yeah, both teen of us.” It looked like the fox in the henhouse. Nothing left of it, but a slight limp that lessened through the years. A man’s voice drew our attention and we all turned back to see a doctor at the end of the hall and a young woman running towards us. By eight weeks, except for a thin strap around his neck, he was totally asian independent. The tip in her mouth, with her tongue flicking the center of it.