“My fingers,” he said between short, fast breaths, “are inside you and I'm moving them in and out. Slowly, now.” He was still panting and now ...y breathing was catching up to his. “Now I'm moving them faster,” he said. I let out a moan as I imagined that my own fingers were his stabbing at my pussy.“Christ I'm wet!!” I said and then I moaned involuntarily. “I love the way you finger me!” I told him. Adam's breathing grew even harder.“Rub me, baby!” I told him. We both let out a moan. Darcy knew that he should have beaten that guy to pulp, but then that would be little different than hitting a woman. Anyway, the guy looked rather muscular. To settle the matter without fuss, Darcy simply left the bale of wool on his barrow halfway to the temporary dump, gave the fingers sign to the wool classer who looked at him called ‘Fetch, Rover’ and went to the pay clerk to sign a termination notice and collect his final pay. He felt little different to those times when his mother had. More

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