He was warm. She felt his cock press against her bum. Somehow she knew it was stiff again. But it wasn't hurting her. It wasn't even uncomfortable.Then he began pinching her nipples with the fingers of one hand, while the fingers of the other sought out that area she had been concerned might have an unpleasant odor, and she couldn't think any more.It was a whirlwind of new experiences. Stepping on a sharp rock in the bottom of the stream helped her break the trance he had put her into. Instinctively, she knew that, as terrifyingly wonderful as his hands felt on her breasts, there was more - much more - that would feel even better. She couldn't imagine that ... but she sensed it on a level that made her certain of it.They left the water, and ran back to the blanket, still dripping. He fell to the blanket, rolling to his side and looking up at her. She stood, in awe of that rigid stalk. He reached up, inviting her to come down there with him."I don't know what to do," she moaned,. I posted three or four shots of her and the response was incredible. The post generated numerous emails and dozens of tribute pictures. I had her sit down next to me at the computer and navigated to the site. I clicked on the code name and her pictures came up. Her jaw dropped and she punched my arm hard. She was about to storm out of the room, but I convinced her to read the comments that were made and to look at the pictures of hard cocks that had been sent from all over the world. The digital camera is the source of desire. The world wide web connects all of us. Any woman can be a dirty little slut in secret and go to church on Sunday morning, or take the dog for a walk, or go to work at an ordinary job, all the time knowing that she has exposed herself. My wife's response to the comments was visceral. I eased my fingers under her panties and worked my way down to her slit to find it dripping wet. We developed a routine of more pictures and she reveled in the knowledge that.
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