”“My god Guy! She’s wearing my old clothes! Who is she anyway?” asked Pamela, “She’s mother’s foster-girl from London; she seems to be a...cident prone.”Shelia then mumbled, “ I’m so sorry I ran into you Mr Guy.”Guy’s finger stroked her cheek and his spice-scented cologne penetrated her senses. “ You OK?”“Right as Rain,” she smiled weakly.Guy and his sister Pamela both let out a relieved chuckle.Guy then strolled off into the garden to ponder.“Well its nice to see my old clothes are useful. I. .." I know. Unlesss we want to go without for who knows how long. So Iguess we could experiment a little and then, naturally, just stop if wewanted to." I squeezed his hand."Sure," he began to wriggle down the bed and, halfway there, swung aroundso that he was facing my feet, his head level with my crotch. "Okay?" I... um... suppose so."Creamy lightly stoked my smooth hairless thighs and, once more, thattingling sensation touched me, except that this time I felt myselfgrowing hard. My. More

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