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Ginger Wingenfeld looked at the calendar and sighed, the red circle appearing on today’s date.
Her cousin was to visit her for the next week, a visit she wasn’t looking forward to. Why on earth had she agreed to let Carol come here, even if she did own part of the farm here and was curious to see how things were going? Hadn’t she taken care of Carol’s wishes and sent all the monies to the various Catholic charities requested, even keeping the property under various names to ensure her cousin’s vow of poverty? A nun! Weren’t they supposed to be poor and landless, or something?
And now Carol was coming for a visit, just when Ginger felt her body catching fire each time her foreman Jack Dennis strode by. Even now her pussy grew moist at the thought of him, her clit starting to pop out from its surrounding flesh. How her nylon crotch panel clung damply to her pussy as she squirmed there on the sofa, eyeing the calendar once more and sighing!
She had been a busy woman, too busy, it seemed, to have some time for her own private life. That was starting to show now, show in the way she was following Jack with her eyes, feeling her nipples standing up against her bra. It was that electric tingle, that flash of fire up her thighs, licking into her pussy, making her clit curl back and cringe while every square inch of her damp flesh was alive to the slightest touch. Touching. Yes, she wanted to have that touching again, the kind she had experienced in her teenaged days before she had the responsibility of the farm to run.
“Ohhhhh . . .”
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.