I did not want to think — or rather, there were things I did not want to think about. I had run out of things to read. I tried to ignore the sounds ...�� the snores of those who had gone to sleep on the benches, with their cloaks as blankets if they had them, the heavy breathing and the loud or muted sounds of pleasure or pain from those who occupied benches but slept not, the drunken laughter and the sudden curses from the tables were cards or dice were played, the occasional shouts for more beer. Biting her lower lip to supress her own moans, Tamara continued to tweak her own nipples and rub them. What she wouldn't give to have someone else doing this very thing to her, she thought as her hands slid down her smooth stomach.As Tamara's hand continued to travel southward down her body she found her fingers rubbing her red,swollen clit.Massaging herself and every so often dipping a finger inside her tightly velvety folds. Almost instinctively this caused her hips to buck, for her to let. More

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