“Wait, wait…. That’s kind of red,” she says triumphantly. The damned red minivan passes us. “Yes, it’s red, slut. You may cum.” Her puss... clamps down as my fingers find her clit and pinch and she cums hard, then begins to build to another orgasm as we arrive at the department store. “Please, again,” she pleads. “Wait until we are in front of the store, bitch,” I command. There might have been a tiny frustrated “fuck” that escaped her lips. I let her have that one, reaching into her shirt to. Sipping her tea, the Elf felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders, a frightening sensation. But she felt proud too, and pleased that her friend had entrusted her with caring for the farm and its animals in her brief absence. The Elf smiled. Never would she have thought that she, a streetwise and quick-witted Streatham girl who'd lived all her young life on the fringes of the South London underworld, could have settled so well to rural life and come to enjoy the solitude of Helen's. More

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