The shoveling could wait. I’d put it off as long as I could. It’s one of my least favorite things to do.My fingers returned to their gentle caress...between the folds of my pussy. I laid my head back to relax and go back to my blissful morning arousal. As much as I tried, the scraping sound continued. It was too loud and close to pretend it didn’t exist. I paused my self-pleasure again and swung my feet around and put them on the cold floor. I walked downstairs to the front of the house and. There was a bump on the front of the skirt, betraying his gender. Turning, Sam bent forward a little and, looking over his shoulder, patted his own bum.Really he needed shoes to set things off, he thought, but he knew from experience that there was no way he could get either Melinda’s or his mum’s shoes on. Facing the mirror he cupped the bags of flour and thought that a bit of make-up might dampen the obvious masculinity of his face. Melinda had tons of make-up he could try, but he hesitated.. More

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