"Your mother has a tramp stamp?" whispered Sherry, clearly astonished."It's not a tramp stamp!" growled Carly. "It's just a spray of roses." But it's ...here they put tramp stamps?" insisted Sherry."Why do people call it that anyway?" complained Carly. "My mother isn't a tramp. She's never been a tramp. It's inconceivable to even try to imagine her as a tramp!" Are we tramps?" asked Sherry."Of course not!" barked Carly. "Why would you even ask that?" Gee, I don't know. Maybe because we're lying. Carl gently removed my bra and panties before stretching out beside me and gently pulling my body against his. I was a little scared but all fear left me the moment his lips closed over mine. I wasn’t quite sure of what I was suppose to do but I didn’t have too because my body took over. Under the gentle pressure of Carl’s mouth on mine, it opened letting him slip his tongue inside. Our tongues met like two fiery serpents engaged in mortal combat, swirling furiously over and around one another.. More

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