Thy doth raise thine grim head again once more,’ I say in joyful glee. A single man, somewhat grimmer of vicissitude, approaches me. ‘Who are you?...�� he demands. Somewhat taken aback by his crassness, I look him over. Features plain yet rugged. Masculine. Strong in carriage, but not noble born. A certain inbred set of the eyes I’ve seen before. ‘British?’ I ask, as my had strokes my thin chin. ‘I am not! I’m an American you French Pig! Now, who the hell are you and where is this place?’. Casey sat down in front for Mark as he began to outline the pattern over her breasts. Mark asked Casey to remove her thong so her could draw an outline over her crotch and bottom. When Casey slipped off her thong, you could easily see the glistening wetness on her bald pussy lips. Mark traced a pattern over Casey's mound and finished by following the design up her ass to complete a leaf shape. Casey was smiling like a schoolgirl. Mark then told Casey he was going to apply the body paint within. More

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