#99604 - Wave after wave rolls through me and my entire body shudders countless times before becoming completely limp and sagging into the contours of the bucket seat, and when I eventually feel your fingers slip out of me and then out of the cotton prison beyond I suddenly feel a complete emptiness within me. What about girlfriends, Kara? You whisper, knowing that your intended shocking question will momentarily distract me from the fact that you have now moved your hand slightly higher and are now softly caressing the bare, untouched skin of my inner thigh just above the hem of my floral skirt. Do you have a girlfriend? You ask me in a soft, sexy whispering voice just slightly louder than the sound of the raindrops, as the painted nail on the tip of your thumb slips effortlessly higher on my inner thigh and finds its way just under the bottom of my skirt, always in motion, tracing electric circles over the still damp skin.
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