Luckily for her, it was the last day.Once she was dressed, she realized that her clothes were different. Her blouse was sheer and showed off her perky...little nipples way too much, and there were only two buttons on it. Both were right at her tits, and it was too small for her. The skimpy little skirt had slits up the front and back and both sides. Even the waist band had been cut. All the slits were held together with Velcro and Tracy knew one wrong move and she might just lose everything from. It was driving her crazy, I could tell by the way she started gasping my name over and over—“Jonathan! Jonathan! Jonathan!”—as if she wanted desperately for me to do something but had been made so mindless with desire that she could no longer find the words. This effect was only increased when I took the now dripping remnant of the popsicle and, turning it horizontal, reached behind her and starting at the tops of her thighs began drawing it slowly up over the tender, burning skin of her. More

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