I pressed my hips into the mattress, grinding my clit against it and moaned softly at the feel. My pussy was beginning to moisten and I wanted to touc... it so badly, but I knew the door was open and I thought I shouldn’t tempt fate so much. I got the sudden sensation of being watched and opened my eyes to stare at the door. He stood there, leaning against the door frame, his arms folded over his bare chest. He was still in jeans. Whether they were the ones he’d mown the lawn in or a new pair it. I needed it. More than that, I needed to give it to John. I needed him to own it. It's almost as if I needed him to strangle that old white-haired bitch - or maybe beat the crap out of her the way she - and my mother - had beaten the crap out of me.I put the throw-pillow down - only then realizing that I still had it clutched to my chest - and clicked on the picture. Along the way, I saw in a description that it "... gently massages your scalp." Yeah, sure, that's what it does, "gentle. More

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