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"How about Mary." I laughed softly at my joke, and it was just my imagination, but I thought she laughed too. She didn't seem to mind me calling her...Mary, so I introduced myself. "Hello Mary," I said quietly, "my name's Staz."I was well and truly gone; here I was, naked, necking with a sheep and talking to it. My cock was hard and had been since I'd first seen her. As if she knew what I needed, Mary pulled away from me and turned, presenting her beautiful rump to me, even lifting her tail. While a good deal is, there is so much more to it than just that.I noticed several times her dark brown eyes slid to take a surreptitious glance at the section where I displayed the Lesbian art. Of course it wasn't just art, I also had books, collections of poetry, posters and music. I briefly considered turning the conversation to one of the Sapphic poets but thought that might be pushing things a little. She might just be peeking because general curiosity rather than restraining a desire to. Until that sketch artist is on the scene, your follow-ups are the best we've got to work with. Bring him by as soon as he arrives."Burliss Randolph was a wizened, bright-eyed little man who affected a tall black top hat as part of his chimney sweeper persona. He was well-scrubbed and his clothes were clean, perhaps reflecting the slow season for persons of his profession. The top hat, however, was decidedly dusty.Randolph displayed no nervousness as he entered Sam's office. Hugh Fulcher had. I wondered how her schoolmates looked at her. Did they imagine those full, soft lips wrapped around their schoolboy cocks? Did she ever get that hot-eyed look she'd had when I was fingering her when somebody else could see her?If Cindy hadn't continued to be a bitch everything might have turned out all right but she remained recalcitrant and things went from bad to worse between my kid sister and me.Friday again but I didn't have a date. Irene and I were alone together in the big, old farmhouse.
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