I practiced many times trying to mimic my mother, knowing that fingers and the p***y were hand-in-glove to lovemaking pleasure. Being in love must make a woman so happy, and I so much wanted to be like my mother. At the time, I couldn’t wait to tell my classmates what I had discovered.
If only I had had the chance to discuss it with my mother before a drunk driver killed her. For most of the next twelve months, I lost all interest in my own p***y and thoughts of pleasure, but as time healed the sadness of losing her, I began to feel stronger affection for my stepfather. He had married my mother five years after I was born. Now, with the ultra-sexy micro bikini in hand that I intended to parade for him, I wanted him to see me as I was today, not the flaunting kid I used to be. In my eyes,
