Lying on a bench in the change room was Darian's tennis outfit, all bunchedtogether. I could smell the odour of teenage sweat from five feet away, it ...as so strong. I started to get a hard-on, which surprised me. Iwalked over to the bench and looked at the sixteen year-old's clothes. Right on top, of course, were her little cotton bikini panties. Theyoung cunt wanted me to see these, they were right by the damn sink. Christ. The panties were limp, and moist with a warm dampnesswhen I picked. No policeman would stop to arrest her for public indecency if she failed to restrain herself while crossing the street, and no one complained if she tested the grocery store’s hairbrushes there and then.And not a single person in the old factory they had taken over would mind if she walked up to them and started the conversation with ‘I need to fuck, you in?’That was precisely her plan for once she returned, but she already struggled to keep her hands away from herself and she was still at. More

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