Her apartment building actually has a buzzer. I've gone around my fair share of apartments in Midas, and I've been inside some that still have the equipment, but the buzzer is almost always deactivated. It's almost a relief that Alyssa's door has a buzzer.

My hair is tied back, and my contacts are in, but for once I'm actually dressed in street clothes. Going out in the daylight is also a little different than usual.

Caress, Aura, and Whisper are tending to Glimmer so they have their hands full. There's not a lot they can do for her really besides be soothing, wait on her hand and foot, and continue to strengthen their conditioning. They're all important chores to keep them busy enough for the whole time I'm out, but I know I could tell them all to just watch a blank television and that would work. Is giving them more to do less or more cruel? They'd be happy either way if I told them to.

No. None of that today. Lucia doesn't have a tortured conscience, and neither does Patina. Only Sarah does, and hers is a mask far more than skin deep.

I press down the buzzer for A. Gardener and wait. She'll buzz back soon enough with some snappy little quip. I hope. This is only the second time I've been to her apartment. Phone calls over cell phones are safe enough if no body knows what to watch out for. I don't want to pull her any deeper into this mess than she already is. She deserves better than that. The quip will help me lighten up, so I just cross my fingers.

"This is Alyssa, and who do I have the pleasure of turning away today?" Alyssa's voice is playful yet serious, mocking yet accepting. We planned to get together in advance so neither of us would be busy. I told her that a gal in my line of work never knows . . . but I'm glad I got to keep the promise.

"Lucia. The one you're not turning away? Should I come up or are you already set to go?" I should have taken some more time getting ready. Black leather pants, and a tight purple blouse, that deep color that makes my pale skin look more creamy than ghostly. The fabric is lighter than the dark purple bra though, and that's what I really like about it, that and how well it falls open just so when I purposefully leave a few buttons open.

I'm only wearing a little makeup, but it's more than I'd wear before to go out. A little pink at my lips, a little blue around my eyes to make the synthetic blue of my eyes look more natural . . . just enough to make me prettier than I could be without it.

There's a laugh through the buzzer and I'm sure she's rolling her eyes. It's nice to have friends that laugh like that, the sort of laugh that makes you smile no matter what. I hope Alyssa is a friend.

The laughing stops and her voice comes back through. "Nah, I'll be right down. This isn't anything fancy, right? So I don't need to take all that long. I just got done going over some Sumerian a guy wanted me to look into so I got distracted, but I'll be right down!"

Saying anything else would be a waste when she's probably already running down the stairs. The building is the kind of old where elevators didn't come with it, and putting them in would be as good an idea as rebuilding the place. The super is probably just waiting for some super battle or another to do enough damage for insurance to cover it. That's one theory, anyway.

When the door opens I actually feel tempted to whistle. It's a long skirt, pleated, but it looks more like something a librarian would wear than a school girl. It ends just high enough to see a little bit of her slender legs before ankles and then her high heeled sandals. Her own top is a cute, glittery black thing with long sleeves, and a heart cut out in the center, the perfect place to show without saying anything besides "this is what's there but you haven't earned a peak yet."

Alyssa's hair looks a lot more beautiful in the sunlight, more rich with deeper shades of brown to mingle with the strands of gold, than when I first met her at night. She was so scared when I turned to her, but now, she's smiling as if we've been friends for years instead of a month.

Her eyes sparkle, and her lips look so inviting. They would probably look like that whether she was smiling, crying, frowning, sighing, gasping . . . It's for her that I resist thinking further down that line.

"Wow . . . I feel a little underdressed now, Alyssa. Thanks again for all of your help, really . . ." The blush burns over my cheeks, and it almost catches me off guard that I'm visualizing them as dark red first and not silver. "This little diner really is the best place. I had a friend who used to work there awhile ago and tipped me off to it. I don't like eating out alone so I'm really glad you let me take you out."

She blushes too, but it's a much softer blush, and the way she presses her legs closer together when she blushes makes her look so delicate in the most feminine way. All that makes me want to do is pin her up against a wall right here and now.

Being around Aura too much supercharges anyone's libido.

"Lucia, like I told you the first time you tried to pay me, you saved my life. That means I owe you something. It doesn't mean I'll take a bullet for you. There's way too much I haven't learned yet. What it means, Lucia-darling, is that what I charge for from others is free to you. Capisce?" Alyssa's fingers slide through her hair before she fluffs it up and then runs two fingers down a mess of strands to curl them idly. She thinks she's only a little beautiful, she'd never be able to notice she's so gorgeous.

When you've personally kissed every bare inch of skin all four "active" members of the Slut Squad have, you're probably the best judge of attractiveness there is. "Wow, you used a word I know. When you don't use English, usually you go too obscure."

"I'm in a great mood today so I'm feeling generous. You can feel of average intelligence today! Yet, the next time we meet, I shall use words from fifteen dead languages, and you shall know true terror!" Alyssa starts her cackling, head tipped back, and I use it as an excuse to peek at that heart shaped hope in her top. It's a decent evil laugh, but at the same time it's too silly, it's too playful.

Not that I want Alyssa to be a villain, but I've heard a few of them actually pull that laugh off and it is far more blood chilling than that. "I'm thankful. So, you in the mood for some burgers and shakes?"

Alyssa raises a honey gold eyebrow, and I blink. "The fact that you have to ask that is almost insulting. I am always in the mood for burgers and shakes. Well, a burger and a shake. It's really not my style to chow down on two or three unless they're really small or something. A nice strawberry shake would hit the spot about now. Then, the evil schemes to rule the world with my linguist's touch!"

We both laugh, and I slide an arm slowly around her waist for a side hug, and to test her reaction. For a moment her eyes grow just a little wider, and the seam of her lips part just enough to see it . . . and then her lips curve into a smile and her eyes hood in that way that no one calls hooded, just happy.

"Of course, my Mistress the Linguist. I shall serve you food, and then I shall serve you the world on a silver platter . . ." Slowly I slide my fingertips along the side of her hip, and her smile grows in a subtle way until it's curved as it can get without turning into a grin. "Unless you would prefer platinum, that is."

"No, my dear . . . Silver will do quite nicely." For a moment I swear the look in her eyes means she knows. She can't know. I've been so careful, I've made su- . . . the look turns into a grin, a faint one, and she pulls away in such a way that my fingers end up stroking all along the back of her waist. It's not an unpleasant thing to feel, and it does make me stop worrying. That look doesn't say she knows who I was, it says she knows what I'm thinking.

That horrible joke about cunning linguists, well, I have wondered.

The joke has been unsaid, but only because Lucia wouldn't use cheap lines like that, even if I would. "The Diner's not far if you don't mind walking. Bus routes are good and all, but it's a sunny day, and I have sunny company, so I just thought we could walk, have a bite to eat . . ."

Alyssa grins a little more and nods. "Sounds good to me. I'm glad that none of the information I gave you got you into any trouble. I was going to feel really guilty if something I told you got you shot."

"Only if it got me shot? Not if it got me killed?" My own smile starts to tug at the corner of my lips as we head for a test I've been forcing myself to put off over and over again. "What's the logic behind that one? And no silly explanations in foreign languages that I don't understand. And no using slang that I don't understand. Just clear, simple, English, okay?"

She sighs, rolling her eyes at just how specific I know I have to get for a straight answer. "If you'd gotten killed that easy then you had no business risking your cute little neck to save mine in the first place. I mean, I respect naive attempts at heroism and all, they can be really cute. Suicidal heroics, that's not."

For a moment I wonder just why she thinks that. Few people have reasons to think things like that. I hope her past isn't as twisted and knotted up as mine or I should stop flirting now. "That makes a lot of sense. I can appreciate that. Nah, nothing that happened was going to get me killed even if it went wrong." If I'd succeeded with only a couple of them, then they might have thought me worth selling, or worth keeping around as backup. I sincerely doubt the doctor kills anyone she can get use out of. "I'm not that stupid."

"Good. I don't like going on dates with silly stupid people. That is only fun if they are super model hot and mute. Even then I usually end up feeling bad for them. How could they appreciate my multilingual talent, not even able to master one? It is the sadness of such things . . ." When she talks like this, she reminds me of a little girl, especially the way she can do a spin and then wrap her arms around herself so . . . Naturally.

Even though Alyssa is the very definition of the woman who knows too much, somehow she can let it all slide away and pretend that she knows nothing.

It's really just a few blocks away. I hope that Alyssa hasn't already been there, but something about how pale Alyssa is tells me that she gets out even less than I do. "You . . . say the weirdest things."

"No, not really. I say strange things to feel strange, but it's just to be silly. I only think the weirdest things." Her voice turns serious for only a moment, and then it dissolves to a more normal tone. "Really though, no work like talk. No serious talk. Let's just pretend we're two silly twenty somethings who just met, and are kind of attracted. Not love at first sight, or grind in the road attracted, just 'grabbing a bite to eat to see if one of them invites the other in afterwards'. Sound good to you?"

She's straight forward, but I like that. She's way more straight-forward than I ever would have been. It's not confidence or overconfidence, it's more that she wants what she wants and doesn't want anything else. Knowing too much really could do that to a person.

Smiling, I take her hand in mine and nod. "It sounds great to me actually. To the diner!" We go, and the conversation on the walk is actually light. It's almost boring, but it's light.

That's what small talk is after all. I'd actually forgotten.

Red neon signs always look tacky to me, all of them besides this one. I can't fully place why, but the red neon "Linda's Diner" above the pretty white building just looks so gorgeous.

In a way, a lot of this area of the city reminds me of Old Town in Dolores. It's smaller and almost like a suburb, but at the same time it's just a short walk away from where everything is huge and bustling. The area isn't too dangerous. Sure, you might run into some trouble here or there but it's never anything too bad. Maybe if Dolores had as many people who thought they could be heroes as Midas has . . .

"Yo, Lucia, you go off into no no land? We're here! Right?" Alyssa smiles at me, and tears me back into this reality far away from Dolores and all of the bad places of the world.

"Sorry, this place just reminded me of something I saw once, but it really wasn't that bad and neither is this. Everything is fine." I kiss Alyssa's forehead, and do my best to make sure when I sniff her hair, it's not audible. She's not much shorter than me, but I'm tall - most girls are shorter than me.

I open the door and motion her in. For a moment I worry that motion might look familiar to anyone in the inside, but I never did it so restrained before. I doubt they'll think twice. Once is okay.

Even if Midas were to burn to the ground, I know Linda would be in the rubble insisting that people going hungry was one hell of a lot worse than anything else she was able to fix and that the Diner better get fixed pronto. The inside isn't anything special, booths, chairs pulled up to tables, and just stools along a nice white bar. People never really used to drop by to drink, but Linda still always kept a stock. You never knew when someone would come in asking for it, she would always say.

Thinking of my belt back at Caress's apartment, I can see the reasoning in that statement. "And here we are, Alyssa. Pick a seat, anywhere in the place. It doesn't look like there's a bad one."

Alyssa smiles and steps in, and once I'm in too she takes my hand. Predictably, she leads me over to a corner window seat. I'll be honest, this is actually my least favorite seat. It's a bit drafty, and I always end up looking behind me at the view out of paranoia, but this time I just sit and slide my hair just into the corners of my peripheral vision. Wearing my hair up in tails doesn't mean I can't have bangs.

"This seat seems nice enough." Alyssa actually takes the seat with a window at her back and I smile a little more. "Nice view anyway." I sit down after her, but I don't even bother looking through the menu. I know exactly what I'm getting.

"It is a nice seat, excellent view." My smile comes back full force as I look across and right into Alyssa's eyes. It takes longer than I would expect to make her blush, but that only makes it more satisfying.

Most of the diner is empty. It's not too surprising. Thursday was always a slow day, though I never really understood why. It was a nice place to work, Sarah the Silver Waitress . . . That one got old fast, but it was fun. Of course, I used to be less silver back then, but more silver than I am now. The rooftops around here weren't too bad. It was always just a few blocks over where all the trouble started.

A waitress comes up to us, and it makes me smile that Linda still hasn't started insisting on any kind of a dress code. It was always "as long as you look presentable, you're dressed enough for me" and none of us ever pushed past that invisible line.

This waitress is cute, blue hair, tan skin, and I think her eyes are yellow. Linda never cared what color any part of you was, as long as you weren't flammable. "Hello! What can I get for the two of you today?"

"Well, a pair of those greasy cheeseburgers, a strawberry and . . . a chocolate shake. That sound good to you, Alyssa?" She smiles and nods, and might even look a little impressed that I remembered she wanted strawberry. "Then that sounds good." A part of me was hoping that it would be Linda serving us just so that I could look her in the eyes and not have her recognize me, but that's not very reasonable.

Linda usually just served at night. I wonder what happened when I just stopped showing up to work. I never got up the nerve to get a hold of her, even after Chronos was out of my head.

"I'll get that for you in just a little bit then, but in the mean time I'll be right back with your water!" The waitress disappears, "Sasha" it says on her nametag, and prop my head up in my hands. I wonder if the back looks just like it always used to. I wonder if it's still the same people working in the back. I wonder a lot.

"So Alyssa, have you enjoyed our little date so far? I know that long walks on the beach are more romantic than long walks in the city, but if we headed out for the beach then the walk would have been a lot longer." She really is so cute, but I know this just has to be the two of us having fun together. It would be too dangerous if it got to be anything more, and she's too cute to let her get hurt for anything but the best of reasons, and that . . . well . . . I haven't fallen for her yet. I wouldn't mind it.

She nods and when Sasha drops off our waters, quicker than I would imagine (maybe she got hired on staff for a bit of speed-waiting talent), Alyssa takes a sip. "It's been great so far. I would have thought a woman like you would come off as a little more dangerous or unrestrained or . . . something."

"Nah, women like me are too restrained." I take a sip, and smile a little bit more. "That's sweet of you to think, though. I only wish that I was unrestrained, but I don't think anyone else does."

"Oh come on, you're not that dangerous. And that glittery little number you wear is pretty, well, nice. I know, I said no work, but this is different. Are you one of the types who takes herself too seriously and won't let herself have fun, or are you the type who is at constant odds with herself and has moments of thinking she can fit into this crazy world and moments where she doesn't?"

If I didn't know she was an information specialist, I would start thinking that she just might be a shrink. "I'm just a girl running from a lot of things right into danger. That's all. Or maybe I just don't like being classified, who knows. What I know is that I'm in a lovely diner with a lovely girl, and I don't want to talk about things like that."

She sips her water and shakes her head. "Running from the past is a horseshoe treadmill. For awhile, it feels like you're getting away from it, it's just hard. Then you just keep running, not even noticing it when you run right back into the thing you're running away from."

"Is that a linguistic term?" She sounds serious when she says it, but then she smiles in her sweet warm way right afterwards. There's just something so inherently good about her that makes me want to hold and protect her.

"No." Alyssa shakes her head. "Just one an old friend told me once after she got back on the treadmill for the third time. By then, she just accepted it."

Am I just accepting this part of my life? To be honest, a part of me would rather be out finishing the last of the Slut Squad, but I want Glimmer to be able to see when we do that and she won't be able to see until tomorrow. "Well . . . You don't have to worry about me doing that. I'm looking forward."

"And here you go! Sorry Sasha couldn't give these to you. She got a call she had to attend to." Setting down our burgers is Linda herself. Curly black hair, olive skin, and sweet pearl green eyes . . . even though I still think she's one of the most attractive women in all of Midas, this isn't as hard as I thought it would be. I don't suddenly feel compelled to sob at her feet and tell her everything. Maybe I would have before my trip, but I've grown. I might not really be another person but I've done enough growing up to be.

I look up, right into her eyes and smile. "Don't worry about it. That was quick, I guess all the good things I heard about this place were right."

Linda looks back into my eyes, and for a moment she looks confused. She looks at my hair. She looks at Alyssa, and then she just smiles and shakes her head. "Thanks, I always love hearing that. I'll have your shakes in just a minute, and sorry about that, you almost looked familiar."

Maybe she's lying for my benefit but I don't think she would do that. I passed the last test I had to pass before I could feel that Lucia and Patina weren't pieces of Sarah and Silver.

"They smell great, I can't wait to dig in." Alyssa chimes in and when Linda thanks her and leaves the table, I have to stop myself from waving at her the same way I always used to. Now it's time to just eat and enjoy the date I promised Alyssa. From the look on her face, Alyssa already is.

It's dark when we finally end up walking back to Alyssa's. The stars aren't bright, but I can see them. The burgers were great, the shakes were great, and we spent most of the day ordering fries or onion rings and slowly eating away at them so we'd have a reason to stay in Linda's. Linda would never kick somebody out that ordered a meal, but it only felt right.

Plus, I always like having something to shove in my mouth after I say something stupid.

"So . . . do you want to come up, Lucia?" The whole day I've been hoping I'd hear those words, and now that Alyssa is finally saying them, with a very come hither look . . . I don't see any way that I can make myself say no.

"Of course I do, Alyssa . . . I mean . . . if you're sure you want me to. You don't have to say this if it's because I saved your life. I didn't do that even expecting any offers like this." Of course, a romantic part of me is wondering if I'll ever happen upon an available damsel in distress and wind up taking her home on the back of Sylvia. I guess that does describe part of how we met.

She shakes her head and slides her fingers through her hair, looking up at the door. "I want you to come up because I had a wonderful evening, and I wanted to thank you for the great food, the great conversation . . . and the great company."

A girl who rides around on a motorcycle without a helmet way faster than you're supposed to should not blush when something like this happens. A girl whose had Aura should not blush when something like this happens. Even if I shouldn't, I still do.

How can I really resist an opportunity like this? "Of course Alyssa, I'd love to, I just had to make sure that's all. So, lead the way, I've never been inside before." At least, not that she remembers.

"Then in just a minute, I'll see if I can't find you something for desert. Unless you're feeling full?" Her voice sounds so provocative. Some part of hearing that tone when neither of us are a danger to the other makes it strangely exotic and just . . . different. It's not that I didn't have the girls all along the trip away from and then back to Midas, but there was always a different feeling to it.

When she walks up the stairs to get the door, I take a second longer for another glance of how her skirt molds to the sweet curves of her ass. I can't believe this woman doesn't realize how attractive she is. If she did, she would be a force to be reckoned with.

"I think I can make room, for you . . ." I really hope what she said was innuendo, or I'm going to feel embarrassed. Her hips move in just the right way as I follow behind her, and we only have to go up a couple flights but I savor the way each and every step makes her look. Mmm. If I ever felt like settling down, she wouldn't be the worst choice in the world.

Alyssa unlocks the door and waves me in. I walk in first, and turn my head just enough to notice she's admiring the view. There's nothing quite like a visual ego boost.

The door closes behind her, and I hear the door lock. I might need to give back home a call and let them know to keep themselves busy and to eat when the morning comes. Eating isn't really something a lot of sex crazy and slave crazy sluts tend to remember doing very well and I don't intend to starve them.

Smiling, Alyssa traces a hand across my back much like she made me do to her earlier, and then pulls away into the kitchen. It's a quaint yet gorgeous apartment with eclectic decorations and too much computer equipment. I would ask what most of it was but I get the feeling that I would end up really embarrassed and having to get her to explain most of it to me anyway. That's not my idea of a good time, though it might be hers.

From the kitchen, outside of my visual range, Alyssa calls out to me. "I could get us some wine if you want. Normally, I don't drink, but I like to keep some around incase I have a really good reason."

"Nah. I don't really like to drink either. Well, you could say I like it a little too much and I'd rather avoid rekindling that." My face burns, but not for the right reason. Drinking always makes me think of being out on the road as Lucia the bar fly.

Even if Lucia the barfly was much better at attracting women than I ever was, I'd rather not fall into that mode at the moment. "Chocolate milk then? Soda? A techie girl like me has to have caffeine."

I've never really been the type who knew many tech-heads, but it only makes sense that the jokes about caffeine consumption were true. Before I spent my time on the road the choice between booze and caffeine was generally an easy one, but once you learn some of the more medicinal properties that self medication has to offer the line starts to blur. What's the point of staying awake if it helps you remember things?

"Some chocolate milk, thanks. This is a nice place, it really is . . ." I sit down on her couch, and look over at her television. She doesn't have cable. It's plugged into one of her computers. I don't think someone who spends so much time making and finding information could stand to just watch what's on HBO.

"I'm going to grab a Jolt for myself and . . ." Alyssa slides back into view, and slides a fancy bottle into my hand, holding a ridiculous battery like container in her own. "I know, a sweet fun day and I end it looking nerdy. I can't fight what I am."

She hasn't opened her aluminum monstrosity yet, so I don't have to worry about spilling it. "Nope, you really can't. No more than you can fight . . . the panties wrapped around your brain?"

"Wha .. . what?!" Alyssa stares at me, and sets down her can on the nearby table. "You . . . You know, if you thought what I said was weird . . ."

"No, not weird . . . What, did I say it wrong?" I set my bottle down and slowly slide closer to her, and she slides back. "Yes, that's right. I meant to say . . . the panties pulled taut around your mind . . ." Her whole body shakes and she stiffens after with a sharp whimper. "Don't be afraid, don't worry . . . just relax."

Her eyes go wide, and she only stays stiff for a brief moment before her body starts shaking again. "I . . . I can feel . . . something . . . in my head . . . it's like behind my forehead is all heavy, full of something . . . tight, something . . . what . . .what the hell did you do to me . . .?!" Alyssa's voice sounds like she should be yelling, but its only a whisper as she tries to stand and falls onto her back, sprawled across half of the couch with the skirt half ridden up her sweet legs.

"Shh . . . It's okay Alyssa . . . It's okay . . ." She's in a considerable amount of danger if she can remember giving me this information. If someone tries to interrogate her and her mind goes blank . . . but she can remember everything with me . . . that's just me protecting both of us.

"Nno . . . no! I can . . . feel . . . memories . . . tearing . . . in my mind . . . something . . . nrraah . . .!"

She shudders and whimpers as I slowly stand up, and pop the button on my pants. "Don't worry . . . The panties wrapped around your mind are mine. I know how much you just love panties, love seeing them, feeling them . . . How you have some you'd never wear, but you keep them just for the desire to have them close, for something to nuzzle and press over your body, to imagine them doing things more than any normal panties can do . . . Mine can, though."

Alyssa whimpers and whines as I start to undo my zipper, but her lips can't form any words. It's like whenever they manage to press together right, they melt away from each other and she just whimpers. Just watching it makes me quiver.

"Mine can do a lot of things. They can make it so that you'll be safe when danger comes, that you won't need to be afraid or worry . . . They make you safe. I wouldn't abuse this safety . . . No . . . because like I said when we first met . . ." Slowly I hook my thumbs under the waistline of my pants on either side of my hips and smile. "You haven't done anything wrong."

When my pants pool around my ankles in one fluid motion, Alyssa's eyes lock on to my panties helplessly. Her eyelids are hooded, but the eyes underneath are intensely drawn, focused. "Do you remember when I first showed you these . . .?" Slowly I trace my fingertips across them, and resist the urge to rub them along my slit. I can feel how warm and wet I am and it's so hard not to shudder. "When I wrapped your mind up in these . . . ?"

They're just simple, plain, white panties. Boring and mundane in every way they could be, except for that to Alyssa, they are around her mind. They're not the same pair I wore the first time we met but to her they are and that's what matters.

Her lips glisten and quiver as I slowly step forward, and grasp one of her hands to press against the cloth covering that aching warmth. "Feel that? That's what you were feeling inside of your head. That's what you were feeling pulsing, constricting, twisting . . . And that feels good, doesn't it? Feeling my panties inside of your head, feeling them protecting you, filling you . . ."

"Yesss . . ."

Her fingers feel of their own volition, and it is so hard to stay still and not make her cup me so that I can grind and grind and grind. It feels so good, so indescribably good, that I can't imagine anything else in the world feeling better. The sensation of controlling her, protecting her through this and fucking her through this is so exquisite.

It's the only way I can be sure I'll be safe, the only way I can feel safe with her, and . . . it feels right. "All you need to remem . . . mmmmm . . . ber about tonight when it's all over, is that we had a wonderful time, some drinks, and I left . . . and it was . . . uuhhhn . . . fun . . . right there, feel your mind squirming under my panties right . . . nnga . . . there . . . harder . . . yeeeah . . .!"

Those fingers aren't just feeling, they're . . . pressing, intent, firm, more than just feeling like they did before to memorize the texture that would be clinging to her mind, she's fucking me through the fabric, and I love it. I can't stop panting and shaking, it's so hard not to moan, but her face just looks serene.

Her eyes are watching the movements, but they're unfocused and glazed, rubbing, stroking, and fucking so fucking good! She can't possibly be conscious, be thinking, be doing anything besides acting on instinct. If she's this good one handed with only half a mind able to do anything besides just stare . . . Maybe . . . maybe she just might be worth seeing how well . . . how well she would work out as a partner, or just as more than an informant, than a . . .

Fuck it's just such a raw feeling!

When I was younger I used to rub through my panties because I was embarrassed to rub under them, and my sparks could go through anyway when I wanted them to anyway. The feeling of this, it's got that young feeling, so sweet, but raw, tender, god so tender and . . . uhn . . . I want more . . .!

I can feel a small burst as I shudder against those panties being grinded and rubbed against me, it's enough to make me cry out and clench my legs around her hand, but she doesn't stop. Her expression doesn't stop. Nothing stops . . . and I don't want it to stop until I need to leave.