Her clit was hard and straining out of its hood. Claire placed the end of the razor onto herself. She took a deep breath and pressed the button. She s...uealed – vibrations were flooding through her body! The waves were taking her higher and higher, closer and closer to climax with every little buzz. She pressed the button again. Everything stopped as she caught her breath. “Holly crap that felt heavenly!” She thought. “What have I been missing out on all these years?” Her breath gradually slowed. They would rather think of Ireland as a place of happy leprechauns, drunken and merry, rather than the true tragedy of Bridget’s homeland. Bridget sighed, despairing for her adopted countrymen. Before her was a half-full bottle of Jameson, a chipped ashtray brimming with butts and ash, and a damply empty glass. The red-haired lass fixed the glass’s fault, and stared down balefully with her green eyes at the letter set down before her on the warped wood of the wobbly table. It was then that a. More

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