Despite the tears, I had neither devolved permanentlyinto a hysterical bundle of nerves nor finished the potential transitioninto a Buffy Summers who ...as prepared to put poor Mike Caldwell behindher without a second thought.In contrast, I had to concede the battle over my sexual preferences tomy feminine side. The Chad encounter and my reluctance to kiss Faithwould have been pretty persuasive proof of that by themselves, but therewas in addition the indelible mental image of me kissing Angel. Her hair was damp and matted, she had hickeys on her neck, her nipples were bruised and there were dried white spots all over her face, breasts and stomach. She knew as soon as she saw them what they were - dried cum stains! What the hell had happened to her last night? More to the point - who had happened to her last night?She was sitting at her desk trying to make sense out of a buyer's order when Calvin entered her office and sauntered up to her desk. Calvin, at least as far as she was. Cathy turned from laying on her side to laying on her back, her eyes still closed and her hand still buried deep inside of her shorts. I watched as she moved her arm back and forth, her hand buried inside of her unzipped shorts. The sight of her pleasuring herself made me horny. I leaned down and whispered her name. “Cathy.” She moaned softly and then I watched as her eyes fluttered opened. Suddenly, she knew she had been caught in an unflattering position. She quickly withdrew her hand from. There were fewer chores to attend to in the months when no crops were to be tended or gathered, and good reason to conserve what warmth there was. “It’s here you most miss Thorvald?” asked Gudrun, placing her hand over the linen-covered mound of Astrid’s crotch. Astrid nodded. “My womanhood itches too,” said Gudrun, pressing Astrid’s hand on her own crotch which she was shocked to find was not covered by thick cloth. Gudrun had pulled up the linen so that Astrid’s fingers were pressed against a.
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