"Give me your hand." She said in a tone I couldn't deny. Taking my hand she ran it across her ample hand and a half size tits, down her stomach and be...ween her legs. Curling my fingers, she took my index finger and ran it slowly into her crease. My finger tip felt warm and sticky with her juices. With a sharp inhale, she slipped my finger inside her pussy.My eyes must have looked like bread plates, as I felt her. Soft, warm, and so wet. She let out a faint moan as she pushed my finger in and. You had to take a peek. And what an education. I noticed some guy's got really gypped in the downstairs area if you know what I mean, or at least that's what I thought. I know things get larger when we are aroused, but there were some really dinky dicks.And then there was Tim. Oh My God! In the 7th grade Tim was already a man. Hairy chest ... shaving every day ... deep voice ... and then there was his Johnson! So that's what I might look like some day down there. Or at least I could hope .... I pinned him down. I loved the sheer male power of him. Like a real thoroughbred colt he fought, struggling, punching me off wildly. But it made no difference. It all just went straight threw me. I was invisible to him. And his eyes, oh those gorgeous icy blue eyes, they were so confused, so frightened.I let him go, just to see what he would do. He ran for the door, only to find it locked without a key, then to the burglar-barred windows which, for some supernatural reason, couldn't even be. He looks your sandy brown hair and matching brown eyes over. Your hand buckled under two metal cuffs into a position where you couldn't jut out. You stare at the commander as he bears down upon you in the storage room of the small towny jailhouse."John you know damn well I didn't want to catch you stealing from Mr. Timms local grocery store." The man said wearing basic cop wear, a cheaply produced blue t-shirt with a rusted badge above his heart."I really don't know what you mean. I was just.
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