She looked to be all of seven years old. She wore a worn blue gingham dress with tattered little Red Ball Jets tennis shoes. Her eyes were a sun washe... blue, and her hair was that rare yellow/white. Like cornsilk. It was from her hair that she got her nickname. Cornsilk. Not many of the people from the sleepy South Georgia town of Wellsville knew her nickname, or much else about her. She lived on an ol' ramshackle farm on the outskirts of the county of Macon. It was a blazin' hot August in 1962. He must be ready to give my pussy some attention too. But, he steps away again and I hear him leave the room. A few minutes later, he comes back. He tells me that now that I’m relaxed, he will be giving me some new sensations to try. I ask what he has in mind, but of course he doesn’t respond. Then I feel a tickle. Just at the base of my foot. I giggle and try to pull away but he holds my foot and continues. I can’t be sure what he’s using on me…it feels so soft, so light, just barely. More

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