Indian Hairy Pussy Getting Fingered

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." I told myself in the kitchen getting my strengthand dignity backin order. But when I came back, I saw that he had removed his tee shirt. His naked hairless torso...not muscular but tight andteenagy, well formedpecs with pink nickel sized nipples, flat stomach, sproutsof thick armpithair, youthful srong teenage arms, destroyed me. I got aterrible hardon just standing there. "It's too fucking hot in here, so Ithought I'd makemyself comfortable. Gimmee the beer and make yourselfcomfortable too." I handed him the beer. "I'm.....I'm fine." "Mr. G...take off your tee shirt. I'monly a kid andyou're making me feel embarrassed standing her with my titsshowing and youall covered up like that. It's just not fair." I could feel my lower liptremble. "Jake, I don't know what you are doing or why. We need to talk this out...we need to communicate. I have no intention of doing anything sexualwith you. It wouldn't be right." He laughed long and hard then andrubbed the cold beer can over his. A few minutes later it was all cleared and we were on our way out of there.So much for my vow to stay to the end of the time trials. The only things more boring than the 400 meter freestyle are the 800 and 1500, which, except for the start and finish, are like watching paint dry. Mom, Elaine and Drindy created minor consternation by following Greg and me into the almost empty boys' locker room, where Greg and I self consciously stripped, showered, and dressed, while Drindy giggled and played with someone's forgotten jock strap. Some of the older boys popped in, saw who was there, and the more modest popped out again, while others just took it in stride.Then Greg and I cuddled in the back seat of Mom's car while Drindy rode shotgun and Elaine trailed along in her car. We had all no sooner made our way in the side door to the kitchen than Drindy, as irrepressible as ever, turned to Mom."Mrs. Walker, can we all get naked now?" she asked, her orange-streaked pony tails flipping.
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I went around and harvested the eggs. Might as well do a little work while I was out here.I made one more stop before I went back in. Mom's garden. For some reason, that symbolized home to me more than anything else. Part of my job had been to protect it for as long back as I could remember. Rabbits were a big nuisance and lord knows I'd shot my share of them. A couple of times a season Mom would order me and Vicky out to the garden and we'd weed for four or five hours. But it had paid back countless times for what little work we put into it.It was starting to come back in. I could see some tomato plants and some peppers and some beans. There were the inevitable squash. No vegetables yet, it was too early for that, but I knew the plants from years of seeing them. I leaned over and pulled a couple of weeds, then picked up the bowl of eggs and went into the kitchen.Mom was sitting at the table with her cup of coffee. "Good morning. Oh, thank you," she said when she saw the eggs."Might.

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