Then she brought it forward again to swab at her sensitive slit.But as she brought the cloth up again, the lips of her cunt seemed to be opening up to receive it. She felt them spreading slowly apart, and worked the warm cloth between the lips to wash the hotly sensitive flesh of her inner cunt. It felt wonderful, and so she continued to work the soapy cloth up and down inside the slit. By now she had dropped her other hand from her nipples and was running it through the wet jungle of red hair which surrounded her cunt. She picked up the soap and began soaping the dense patch of fur. With the corner of the soap she nudged gently at her quivering little clit, which had hardened and was demanding attention.Her eyes were tightly closed, and as she rubbed her pussy, she found herself returning her mind to her earlier vision of Henry Wells. She pictured him standing on a beach in the brief red bathing suit which she had imagined for him. Then, as she watched him in her imagination, he. A nice suburban home. 2.5 kids. A conservative woman to bear them. A couple secret mistresses on the side. Whether he knew I tended towards monogamy, having had only three love affairs in my life, one lasting over twenty years and the other ending when high school ended, his constant flow of girlfriends might suggest another way of rebelling. A beautiful blonde he brought as his date that night had no problem wandering through the crowd of familiar faces--rock and movie and cultural stars--when he abandoned her.Hidden in some guest bedroom, Henry closing the door, my wife Mary began. "You've got to be kidding Joe. She's younger than Cheryl..." Actually they're about the same age." Whatever. You're losing it. Mr. Mature Rock Star finally succumbed to his childish fantasies." Yeah, Dad. At least you could get a hot chick." Henry!" both his mother and I exclaimed."Hey, you invited me." She's Claude Bellen's daughter," I explained."Oh," said Mary. "Your mentor." Mary never liked Claude..
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