“She’s the hottest little thing.” Following her husband’s somewhat self-centered indulgence, Tracey slipped her hand inside her daughter’s bra enclosing the delicate mound. Her instincts were being suppressed and her sense of the acceptable blurred, by this wholly confronting activity. In that second she almost understood. It was only seconds past the finishing line that she realized her bra straps either side had been snapped in her husband’s frenetic need to disrobe her. A blush pervaded both cheeks as Greg laid her gently back on the coverlet, coaxing her arms aside so that they could look upon what nature had so wondrously concocted. Aware now that his wife too was encroaching upon the borders of what might be termed reckless endangerment, he hugged Shelley tighter.
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