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She laughed and giggled at the joke and then began to tickle me. I grabbed her and we began toy fighting, rolling around until I got astride her, pinning her down on the hay. I held her wrists, her arms stretched out above her head while I sat on her tummy. Her breasts were heaving as she sought to get her breath back and I was beginning to feel a warm glow that seemed to be coming from her groin and passing into mine.Then she said, ' Do you have hairs on your cock, Simon'I stared at her for a second. Her eyes were wide, her pupils big in the surrounding blue. Then I asked, 'Do you have hairs on yours?'' I don't have a cock, Simon. Don't you know that? Girls have cunts!', she laughed, and tried to wriggle free.I reddened but kept a grip of her. ' I know that', I said fiercely.' Have you ever seen a woman's cunt, Simon?' Her eyes were dancing now as she searched my face. "Have you seen your Auntie's?"An image of Aunt Ellen undressing and the black hairs curling out from the hem of her. Once one had gained the first limbs, the rest were easy, and being slight of build, Dee could get into the highest branches, with the lovely feeling of the wind in her hair, the whole of Gynt laid out like a wooden model beneath her.The oldest, and tallest, oak tree was at the top of the rise near Mrs Beale's house. Dee had taken a long time to muster the courage for that particular challenge, having visited the tree many times without attempting anything. It was an old tree, but sickly, and she would have to be careful with the termites and the rotten limbs. She finally mastered it with a somewhat ungainly shimmy up the trunk. She ascended the next limbs easily, and she was feeling like queen of the world as she stood high in the tree, looking down on Mrs Beale's roof, the smoke from her chimney far, far down.With the first gust of wind, the limb she was standing on, and the branch she was holding with her hands, both separated from the trunk with a loud crack.Dee was suddenly.
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