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MasturbatingI really can't help it. I can influence others' minds completely, and their
bodies to some extent by way of their minds. It's understandable that I use my
ability for my own pleasure. Mrs. Stevens has a stunning figure. She should - she works out plenty. She's
of mixed descent: She has ancestors from Africa, Polynesia and India; their
blood has combined to create a gorgeous creature with a killer body, an exotic
face and curly, flowing dark hair. Tanning won't do much for Mrs. Stevens' dark
skin, but she's not worried about looking good, because she knows she does -
just feeling good. Today Mrs. Stevens has put on an awfully skimpy bikini. All
of her swimsuits are revealing - she doesn't even own a one-piece - but this one
is a little black number with spaghetti ties and a thong back that could
pass for thick dental floss. It's a new suit. Mrs. Stevens picked it up
yesterday at the mall without really thinking about it. (Well, I Mrs. Stevens is stretching onto her chaise longue. There's a bottle of suntan oil on the table beside her; she set it out earlier today, so it's warm from the sun now. She opens the bottle and lets the oil drip onto her palm. She starts rubbing the oil over her arms, her shoulders and neck, her legs and belly. She sets the bottle down, lies back and closes her eyes. And she abruptly opens her eyes, sits up and reaches for the bottle. She needs more oil. More warm oil. She needs to put it on her hand... ...and when there's a warm pool of suntan oil in her palm, Mrs. Stevens drops the bottle, lies back and closes her eyes again, and quickly slides her hand down to the itsy-bitsy crotch of her swimsuit. And her hand slips inside her swimsuit bottom and coats her pubic hair and sweaty pussy lips with suntan oil. Mrs. Stevens likes sex. She likes sex quite a bit. And the backyard is
surrounded by a high fence, so she shouldn't have to worry about anyone seeing
her. But she's never had the urge to masturbate outside, out in the open, out
where someone *could* see her. Not until today. She's not sure what's come over
her. Not sure why she's suddenly so horny. Why she suddenly feels naughty, nasty
-[like a kinky little slut] - and not sure at all where that thought came from!
She is not, has never thought of herself as a -[bad whore - slippery piece of
fuckmeat] [slippery slut, ready for fucking - ready for eating - nasty, masturbating
bitch-in-heat] She is so wet, large droplets of the oily compound - by now, consisting
mostly of her own cunt cream - are forming on her innermost thighs and actually
splashing through the slits in the chaise longue onto the concrete. She flips
over and gets on all fours on the chaise longue, so Mrs. Stevens likes sex. She likes sex quite a bit. She likes sex with
anything that moves. She likes fucking. Sucking. She likes sex with her husband.
With other men. With young boys.[teacher slut] She *is* a teacher slut. She
wants to teach a young boy how to fuck. How to fuck her pussy well. How to eat
her and lick her and feed her cum. Conveniently for Mrs. Stevens - although, I
must confess, not coincidentally - Kyle Kerbaugh is watching her from his
upstairs window These things make Kyle much easier to manipulate than Mrs. Stevens. It's simple to get Kyle to leave his room, go and wank he thinks and cums in his hand! | ||||
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