Her hair was dark brown, shiny, falling to her shoulders. Her smile was warm, loving. Those eyes ... Mary had spent most of her young life trying to u...derstand those eyes. Sometimes they looked sad, as if she knew time with her daughter would be short. Other days they looked happy, telling Mary that she was oh so proud of what her daughter had become.Not once had they told of why she was gone.It wasn't fair. All Mary had, of her real mother, was this tradition. Once a year. That's all she asked. Jennie needed very little persuasion now, she was caught up in the flow and made no attempt to hide her face to the hunk as she stroked her fingers slowly up and down between her now wet petals. She watched as he began to move his hand up and down his shaft to the same rhythm. And she heard Pippa’s vocal orchestra, as her friend used nothing but her imagination to picture the scene to frig herself.Jennie slid further down the chair, opened her legs wider and inserted two fingers deep inside of. More

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