“Oh.” Jenny’s whisper was quiet, but I heard it, and I knew the reason. Blood rushed in my ears like thunderous waterfalls. “She’s wet.” �...�Really?” The fingers rubbed back and forth. “Sopping.” I moaned. Shit! A wet, slippery fingertip found my clit and rubbed in teasing circles. My thighs started to tremble. “You’re getting off on the spanking?” Becca wanted to know, but I couldn’t admit that. “Tell me!” she ordered sharply. I tried to stay quiet. Another fingertip pushed against my entrance. I took several dozen photos. “You know,” I remarked to Jill, “you have an outstanding body.” Jill seemed to like my compliment. “Do you have a swim suit?” I asked. “Of course,” Jill replied, darting back into her house. I sat down in the same patio chair and few minutes later, Jill sauntered out on to the patio, wearing the skimpiest of swim suits one could imagine. The top was about three sizes to small and barely covered her 36-D cup boobs. The bottom portion was more like a thong and. More

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