Roped mother, raped daughter

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Betti Watson felt that hot, shiver tinge spasm through her virgin cunt as she rocked her slim hips from side to side on the chaise lounge. Her electric-blue bikini bottom was snuggling up against her hot, swelling cuntlips, the silky material rubbing so nicely against her milky-soft pussylabes. The sensation was shockingly good, even better than the way those two patches were getting her stiff, rose-pink nipples going.

It was awful feeling this way, especially right at the home of her very best friend, Tina Anderson. But there it was, making her breath a little shorter while the sensitive places between her toes tingled like mad. Thank goodness, she thought, she had on her dark sunglasses. No one knew she was staring at Jack Foster. He was a rebel. That was what Tina had said, giggling all the time. Betti was sure Tina would have let him fuck her if he were interested in doing it. Instead, he just came around all the time, hanging around the big two-story wooden house and talking with Tina's brother, Joe.

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