The next morning, Charlie asked over breakfast if I wanted him to drive the moving truck and as I was about to say, Ã,sure I saw Sandy barely sh...ke her head while she was sipping her orange juice so I said that I was still worried about how the truck would handle. Sandy of course, followed me to the truck vice her Suburban. At least today she wasnt dressed in a business suit, instead Charlie and I got to drool over her in a pair of white canvas Keds with powder blue ankle socks, a darker. The brush continued up my leg, around my pussy, down the other leg, back up, down, up . . . and across my pussy lips. “Oh, my!” I blurted. The dry brush painted my labia thoroughly before continuing up my tummy, around my breasts, and down my sides. “Stop!” I cried, writhing. “No tickling!” I hadn’t thought before of the risk of tickle torture. I always worried about the wrong things. “Sorry,” Gina said, “I’ll be more careful.” In place of the tickle brush, I felt something smooth and wet on my. More

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