"I know it's none of my business ... uh..." her silence was deafening."Yes, what isn't Rachel?" I said."Well, Yeah Pierce, I remembered ... I was just wondering ... are you, you know, in love with someone?" Uh, no, why do you ask?"She shrugged. "Well it was WHO you called when you came last night and this morning" she said, emphasizing the word who.And in that instant a bolt struck me, I remembered whom I had called when I was orgasming."Pierce, the fact that I'm here today tells you, you can. "I must say. This is a feast fit for a king," Ethan said enthusiastically as he rubbed his hands together.Dabir looked at the various food items on the table curiously. "I don't recognize many of these food dishes," the African said with a very British accent. "Do you grow your own food here?" Yes we do," Martha said proudly. "All the vegetables come from my garden." Really?" Dabir asked in astonishment. "But, who works your fields? I didn't see anyone else when we drove in."Martha laughed and. It’s in a copse at the end of a garden, by the ditch that demarks the end of said garden and the fields beyond. The tree-house itself is quite small and well-weathered but well-built with a proper felt roof and tight, boarded sides. It overhangs the crown of the willow slightly and is accessed by a hatch in the floor and batons nailed to the trunk to act as a ladder. A single window looks out towards the fields. The tree-house is hard to see from the cottage whose garden this is, and will be. The thought scared me, but also excited me. Instead, she continued, “You’ve never tasted another woman’s pussy, have you, Harleigh?” “No,” I meekly acknowledged, “just my own.” “Would you like to taste me now?” I was stunned speechless but my head nodded, “Yes!” Still sitting on the front edge of the sofa, using the fingers of both of her hands, she held her lips open and invited me, “Go ahead, Harleigh. Put your finger in me. I’m wet and ready.” Quiveringly, I stepped closer, then knelt and.
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