Dipping a middle finger inside, she pulled it out, glistening and wet, and sensuously licked her cunt juice from it. “Um, um, good!”“Uh, you wan... me to, well, I mean...?” he stammered out.“Uh huh. Let me guess, you and Millie never did that either?” Jim stared at the cunt pulsing between the widespread thighs and shook his head, no. “Well, I will be perfectly happy to teach you. Trust me, it won’t kill you, and it doesn’t taste like a dead fish.” Jim looked up at her nervously, and she knew. I had cried my eyes out inthe arms of his mom, the lady I call Aunt Liz.But for some reason, once I was done crying I slept well.The next day I awoke early again but I was not feeling overly emotional.There was this cold feeling deep under my breastbone, between my lungs,which seemed to be where my angry sad thoughts had centered. Otherwisethough I was calm as could be.I got up and looked at myself in the full length mirror. I was no longera skinny skateboarder going into ninth grade. I was a. Beta even sang a Japanese ballad of some sort, surprising the Matsudoki group with her excellent command of the Japanese language.While all of this singing was going on, I occasionally caught glimpses of some funny business going on. At one point, one of the older executives actually had his attendant sitting on his lap, and I'm pretty sure that one of his hands was under her blouse. Not that she was complaining. One of the female execs -- I think she was head of marketing -- pulled her. She appeared to be writing something , a letter perhaps or a story. She would write for a while, and then she would gaze off in the distance. He watched wondering what she could be possibly writing about. She poured a glass of wine , put it to her lips, taking a small sip and began writing again. Pausing she unbuttoned her blouse exposing her large full breast as she dipped her finger in the wine and slowly caressed the nipples till they stood firm and proud. Then she began to write again.
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