I owed the girl nothing. I would never, ever, have shared a camp with these folk, no matter what the circumstances. But one of them had either seen he... warning, or suspected it.I made sure the wagon brake was on, and then lifted myself inside. Her eyes opened briefly and there was a hint of life in them. "Am I dead?" The voice was small and weak."No." Then they are."I nodded.She smiled faintly. "For as long as I can remember," her voice was unaccented High Tongue of the Valley, educated class.. And there, guarding the entrance to her pussy, was that delicate membrane. Her hymen. She was a maiden. My dick throbbed in celebration. I bounced to my feet, hands clenching my Jane Austin novel. I fought my perverse desires.This would be done right.“Follow,” I said and marched around her, my skirt swirling about my thighs.We left the vulgar sounds of my half-sister’s naughty game behind as we crossed the lawn. She followed after me, her feet whisking through the grass. I could feel her. More

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