She heard a creaking sound and looked at the black branches. Oh dear God! Her feet slid in the muck and leaves, and she fell into the blackberry bushe.... Ruby couldn’t care less about the thorns stabbing her hands and face. She forgot about her runaway puppy. She did care about the dead man swinging in the wind, dangling from a poplar tree. Many years ago, Ruby had been a Sunday school teacher. She seemed to remember the crucifixion cross was hammered together from two lengths of poplar wood.. Oh yes, oh yes, I’m all yours! her mind declared. All resistance left her. To show that she'd surrendered, she tucked her feet up a bit and opened her legs even wider. Her wet pussy lips pulled apart again, opening her most private place to the stranger's pleasure. As if he was fascinated by this new revelation, the chain lingered there, moving very lightly up and down the sensitive juncture between thigh and mound, teasing the edges of her trimmed pubic hair. One side and then the other, back. More

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