Tracey pulled my hands back up to her breasts and said, “Let me do that for you.” Then Tracey undid her jeans and lowered them below her panties. ... lowered one of my hands down into her panties and found her pussy. It was covered with very soft hair. I slipped a finger into her moist slit and rubbed it up and down until I touched her magic button. Tracey said, “That’s it. Keep rubbing my clit. Please keep rubbing my clit. Give me an orgasm and I’ll let you fuck me.”Where to hell did that come. They were too stout or too short, too loud or too shy, too homely or too old. ‘They are as different from one another,’ thought Wanda to herself, then woman are from each other.’ The realization was a profound one for Wanda. Ever since that first day in the stockade it had been drilled into her skull incessantly that ALL men, despite their apparent individuality, were inferior to women in every way. ‘Their dissimilar faces mask a uniformly unpleasant soul.’ She had heard from every woman with. More

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