I whimpered, squirming my hips. My hands found my breasts, squeezing them, brushing the surgical tape holding the humming toys against my nubs.It felt...incredible.She pushed the ben wa ball against my pussy. I gasped as my soaked labia stretched and stretched to accommodate it. The sphere was wider than any toy I’d put in there. I groaned, my pussy swallowing the first ball. I felt in inside of me as I squirmed, adding its own delight to the pleasure building in me.Then she pressed the second. I readthat book over and over again. No words in the English language described howI felt when I looked at the final picture of her in that dress. It would takemore then fourteen years for me to have a word for that picture, and it wouldbe one of the first Eleven words I would learn: Vanima. Some part of me that wastrying to assert itself had found a mother. A mother that explained that therewas nothing to be ashamed about, that just how I was. A place in my heart wasmade for her out of eternal. More

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