Sensual Sapphic Encounter: Vanesa’s Pleasured Sirens Erotic Scene

Sometimes I spoke to him about gun-making. I began fumbling about, put my hand down feeling cautiously round the stem of my cock and my ballocks. “Well, are you not going to have it?” said she, “make haste.” It was a dark night, but I saw from a white gleam that her clothes were up, felt where the nick was, and in much agitation thrust my tool up it. I am a married woman!” Then comes tears, then a kiss from me, then talk, then tears, and at intervals she told me a story of a bad, brutal, morose husband, who had not fucked her for months. One moment wondering at my boldness, and wickedness in thinking of a married woman; the next, thinking I was a fool for not having asked her to let me; when I saw in the path, the top of the tin can she had been carrying. I was kneeling so then, and was not a little shocked at her remark. I imagined then that married people were always doing it, that women were randier than men, — a common belief of young