She continued to her her clit slowly in circles, occasionally stopping to finger herself. Once she felt she was good and wet she reached into the nigh...stand beside her bed. She pulled out a pink vibrator that looked like a penis. She smiled at the sight of the vibrator; it was her favorite toy (other than the detatchable shower head). She brough the vibrator up to her lips and took the head in her mouth slowly. She bobbed her head up and down the vibrator imagining it was a real dick. After. A tight white sweater, short skirt that showed off her long tanned shapely legs (my weakness.) I looked her over as she stood in line and she looked me over where I sat with a mischievous smile on her full lips. Then I looked at the way she moved her hips as she sauntered to a table close at hand. Her? Our? Story in poetical prose of rhythmic stanzas that will curl a girl's toes. No rings she donned, “I’m a free woman” her song, As she crossed her long shapely legs, And looked at me impishly. More

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