Again! Oh, my god! He could see...everything! Fuck! Now he knows I like to shave my pussy, too! Mom said I wasn’t allowed to do that yet. Shit! I’... fucked here!” “But, wait. He didn’t yell, again.” A voice of reason sounded off from the back of her thoughts. “He didn’t look angry at all. Shit! What does all this mean?”Tabitha sat up in bed. She looked around for something quick to throw on. Not seeing anything, she decided on her bathrobe. It was made of real silk! She loved this robe! How it. Her touch was rose-petal soft as she placed her own palm in my grip,and I helped her to her feet, as if I were assisting a princess ."Please, be seated, my dear sister," I invited her, and she took myplace on the bed, parting her legs. I knelt before her, feeling asdevout as a pagan worshiper feels who kneels before an altar to hisdeity. Kirsten, the thought occurred to me, is more than a princess;she's a goddess, and, as such, she deserved to be adored and veneratedand worshiped.We men are not. More

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