Mother walked in and said, “Cathy darling, what are you doing? That is so un-ladylike, sitting on your brother like that”. “Well it’s his fault!” she replied. “He called me a tart for wearing high heels and bright lipstick. So I’m waiting for him to apologise,” and continued to tickle me. “Well, it is a bit bright, dear”, mother responded. “Lunch is served in five minutes”, turned around, shook her head and walked out! Unperturbed Cathy immediately reached down to my bursting member, eased its head up between her now completely soaked puffy lips, teasing her pouting clit along the way, and pushed it straight into her love canal. She thrust him deep inside her honey pod. Each thrust seemed to be endless. She worked quickly and faster each time. I lifted her skirt and saw her thickened clit standing proud, rubbing its head against my throbbing shaft. My index finger instinctively reached out and teased it as well. Her clit was so available and desirable, an opportunity not to be. Finally, her eyes opened, and she giggled apologetically, as if she was embarrassed for letting herself go like that. She nuzzled my face and sought my lips wit hers. Our mouths met, and she slipped her tongue slipped between my lips. Once again, I was struck by how great a kisser this girl was. Her tongue led the dance in our mouths in a way that was unlike any girl‘s I had ever met. Compared to her I was sluggish, slow and inept, but if I in any way failed to meet her expectations, she didn’t show. Her kiss and the taste of her lips were like a drug, and I was becoming hopelessly addicted.With our lips pressed together and locked in intimate embrace, we rolled around on the ground. I hardly noticed the painfully sharp little rocks and sticks that littered the cold, hard soil, absorbed as I was by her smell and taste and the feel of her body. When we finally had to break off our kiss, I was lying on my back and she was on top again. The girl sat upright and held me pinned down with.
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