The taste of my semen on her lips dissuaded me not at all. I loved kissing her and I demonstrated that desire many times over the next hour. I barel... reached the towel on what was supposed to be Scarlett’s lounge, pulling it to our faces that were completely covered in our mixed saliva. Finally, I whispered, “I don’t know about you, but I’m a sweaty mess and I could really handle a quick swim.”“Let’s go, but I don’t want you to actually swim—not quite yet. Your back still needs to heal some. But I could also feel a tinge ofexcitement building in me, and an ever louder voice saying that theywere perfectly suitable underpants for an insignificant little 8 yearold girl like me, and that if Imelda was going to be wearing knickersduring our lesson, why shouldn't I? I didn't deserve any better, and hadno more reason to wear men's underwear, or even boy's underwear, thanshe did.They felt so strange once on, the trims and bows pinching my hairlessgroin in ways I couldn't see myself ever. More

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