She yelped and looked at me. I paused, thinking that I might be hurting her, but she whispered, ‘Do it, fist me, get your fucking hand deep inside ...e!’ I spat again, my saliva mixing with her copious pussy juices and I pushed even more firmly, feeling her muscles resist. I coned my fingers together more tightly and the heel of my hand began to enter her tight cunt. She let out a low moan, maybe more of a growl and I pushed again. Her muscles gripped my wrist as my whole hand slipped inside. When you get down to the real nitty-gritty, all I am is a small town girl. I have small town values and morals. For me, getting wild is wearing my blouse with a couple of extra buttons undone or letting some strange guy look at my panties. That's my limit. I may talk a good game, but I love my husband and I don't ever want to lose him." I still don't see what that has to do with you leaving us," said Mary. "What if we'd overslept and missed the plane. That wasn't a very friendly thing to do.". More

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