A real woman, not the peasant woman that worked the fields and struggled to get by. No, a different kind of woman. A woman that she hadn't been since ...he had been widowed. A woman that lay down with her man. She felt the finger rub circles. Her body answered the pleasurable feeling with little twitches coming from deep inside her. Inside, where the hand, where the man that this hand belonged to, was about to protrude. She felt herself getting wet at the thought. And he felt it too. On his. I lifted the pencil off and let my pussy be untouched for a few seconds, before I lightly tapped the length of my pencil against my slit, sending shocks of pleasure in my veins. The light taps became harsh as the sounds of my pencil coming in contact with my pussy could be heard in my silent room. TAP! TAP! TAP! I was beginning to pant slightly at the torture I was doing to myself before I pushed the length of the pencil against my slit through my pajama pants and watched as my puffy folds. More

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