He barely gave her time before his palm ran over the newest red line, enjoying the way her buttocks quivered under his hand. Then his fingers travelle... lower, between her cheeks, over her tightly puckered rosebud, then down, down, slipping between her swollen folds. She was soaking wet, and his finger trailed lower yet to find her hardened clit.Slowly, feather-light, he circled over it, chuckling when she let out a moan, pushed against his finger to increase the pressure. And the lash came down. She's not a Skunk." Skunk? What the hell . . . ?" A.J. Skunks. Name of the club. We're going. Tonight!"He drove. I listened. He spoke of "going with the flow" and being “open to new things”. "Willingness, Bryan. Willingness. The willing shall inherit the flesh, or something like that.” He parked his older Toyota. I was shaking more from apprehension than the cold night. We went to the back of the Mustang and down a narrow set of concrete steps to a dark green door. Remember, Bryan. Willing.. More

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