Maureen sat down in the large circle in which she had knelt the night before. She looked unhappily at the smoking crack in the floor behind her and hoped desperately that the ceremony didn’t involve the recall of that cat-like demon. Gingerly, she laid back and raised her knees and spread her legs. She drew her right hand towards the crux of her thighs and slipped her finger along the labial divide.
She was still moist and the contact thrilled her. The woman’s milk was doing something to her, making her p***y more receptive to pleasure. But how receptive would it make her, she wondered. Would she spend her days moaning and crying out for someone to plug her p***y or to lick it or even just to touch it? She shuddered to think about it.
She began to stroke her divide while she brought tw
