Suzanne's eyes were closed as she listened. She didn't realise how obvious was the movement of her thighs as she worked them, one against the other. B...t she was aware of what the movement was doing. She'd been horny forever it seemed. She'd denied herself release ever since she'd read of the book signing but now she was riding a wave as his voice read. How often had she read this chapter of the book, followed word for word, action for action, always reaching the same exquisite conclusion. But. She stepped to her antique wardrobe and pulled out what she thought of as her “industrial strength undies” and a pair of well-worn jeans. She peeled out of her wet, sticky panties and buried them deep in her laundry hamper so the bedroom wouldn’t smell like a brothel. Or anyway, what she imagined that a brothel should smell like. On impulse, she pulled the panties back out, buried her nose in their dampness and took a long, deep sniff. She felt her vagina gush more warm fluids. Being a whore in. More

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