Still, she continued to ask. Once again, her hands lifted and she spoke in the only way left to her, spiderlike digit forming words and sounds, darker...than dark eyes speaking volumes when even fingers failed her. Why? A shrug, nothing more. Her disappointment was silent as she turned away and walked across the checkered field, across alternating squares of virgin snow and black ice, the soles of her feet as numb as her heart. Tomorrow she would ask again. And the following day. And the one. She looked up at me with desire as her index finger slid along the top of my swollen clit. My head went back and I moaned. I couldnt hold my noises in any longer. I had always been vocal, and its hard to hide it. My hand went to her head, running my fingers through her wet locks. Her index finger slid inside of me and I was ready for it. The entire day had been like foreplay and I had been wet the whole time, ready, waiting for her fingers to penetrate me. As her finger slid in and out of my. More

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