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The touch of the different hands on my skin told me that they were from different people, some were rough, some were gentle, some pressed on me and some very lightly touched.Slowly, I was getting turned on by the touching, especially those on my covered tits and pubes and my bare calves.The hands started touching my lips (mouth) and I automatically opened my mouth to accept the fingers that went inside.My thick school skirt had filled the gap between my legs and the hands started touching my inner thighs, albeit over the skirt.Then there was a pause during which I heard a few gasps from the audience, and from Charlotte.Then I found out why, my school blouse and school skirt were cut off me and removed from under the ropes. I heard more gasps.For the next goodness know how long, the hands started caressing my body again, now over my exposed flesh, bra and industrial school knickers.I was getting seriously turned on by then.One after another, more hands caressed my body and I was. She cursed herself for ever telling the young woman, "call me Becky. " And people noticed the way she hated the new name, and they probably thought she was a little silly for taking it ... not because it was a silly name, mind you. I still like it a lot better. They just thought she was silly for telling people to call her a name that she didn't much like.I wasn't quite ready to start her descent yet, and she still had some fight in her. She resisted my taste in clothing. She fought the way I made her flirt with her boss. She resented the way that I made her lease a more expensive car, to keep up her image.It all worked to her advantage of course. I gave her a promotion and a big raise, just to muscle her along the way to her downfall.The problem is, and Denise would be the first to agree with me on this, success isn't enough to conquer insecurity. Sometimes, it just makes things worse. Kind of a stupid little paradox, isn't it?When the promotion to sales manager came, poor Becky was.
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He knew just hidden beneath was the tender pink flesh, it's texture unique to that region. Tommy moved his hands gradually downward. His fingers slip into her. He had to remember to be gentle. His enthusiasm sometimes got the best of him and she winced. She wa ery patient with Tommy and gave him advice and guidance when they had sex on previous occasions. He realized he had a fairly good sized penis. She taught him how to masturbate. He fumbled around and would apply too much pressure on his cock and leave it red and sore. His technique gradually improved and it became more pleasureable. He thought of Maureen and it was not long before he felt that lovely surge erupt from his cock. The discovery of hand lotion to replicate the moist sensation of her cunt added to his pleasure. A couple times his mother nearly walked in on him in this position. It was both terrorfying and thrilling. Tommy worked his fingers in Maureen's cunt. She told him about a thing called the clitoris and when it.

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