I tugged the material free, but almost immediately it would worm its way back between my legs, seeming to become ever more insistent. The back of the dress also appeared possessed, working its way between the cheeks of my firm, swaying bottom as I walked. Deeper and deeper it slipped in a most unnatural manner, as if seeking to torment my most embarrassingly private and sensitive region of wrinkled flesh. The bunched up cottony material rubbed against the tender fleshy dimple of my tightly puckered portal and I flushed with embarrassment. I tugged the material free, but within a few steps it would slither its way back into the soft, deep cleft of my bottom, digging its way relentlessly deeper. It was a most indelicate of situations, I can assure you. Obviously I should have turned and fled, and yet I didn’t. Strange forces were at work here, but perhaps I had already lost my sense of reason. The urge to walk ever deeper into the woods was shower overpowering, calling me to follow some strange need that beckoned me to continue. After a while amateur on the winding trail, I saw a clearing ahead in the woods. My weaving pathway led directly to the fence yard of a charming little house. I paused, uncertain of what to do. The soft white cotton of my dress continued its antics, slithering its way all over my firm young body, clinging to every curve and crevice. The normally lady-like hem, properly cut well below the knee, crawled its way up my thighs and hung bunched at my waist. I looked down, inhaling sharply in surprise and shame that my female charms stood exposed for anyone to see. Desperately I struggled with the dress. It now possessed an amazing strength and will of its own, but I managed to wrestle the hem down to barely cover my naked hips. From behind, I felt the dress bunch up, poking its way between my cheeks, wriggling its way relentlessly towards the tight little pucker of my bottom. In front, it lecherously mirrored its rear action, gathering itself into a wad, forcing its way towards my groin, and probing its way against the ruffled lips of vaginal slit. Fearfully I struggled with the skirt, horrified at this indian demonic turn of events. Gripping the wadded hem with both hands, I strained to return it to its proper position below my knees. My arms were shaking with the effort and I could hear stitches in the fabric begin to pop. But the dress resisted all my efforts to restore my modesty. Gritting my teeth, I pulled down as hard as I could, but succeeded only in slipping the top of the dress downward. I stifled a cry of dismay as my creamy rounded breasts toppled free, exposing the quivering orbs of flesh. Blushing, I snatched my hands to the top of the dress and tugged upward, attempting to cover myself, but the stubborn material refused to yield. The cottony fingers of the dress, freed from my attention, exploited the opportunity. I raised my face to the heavens and gave a startled squawk of protest as the finger-like element of my dress prodded urgently at the sensitive puckered opening of my bottom. “No!” I exclaimed to no one in particular, but the dress paid no heed. The other cottony finger also advanced formed, poking and thrusting ever more insistently at my groin, seeking to gain access to my virgin slit. Mother had warned me, in a hushed and embarrassed tone, that “good girls” don’t touch themselves down there, and I had always heeded her warnings on such somber matters. This could not be allowed to continue! I fought with the probing, rubbing material, but it was in vain. The cottony fingers of the possessed garment found their way to their targets and my mature virgin slit received its first-ever penetration. Crying with fear, I gripped the front of my dress with both hands, yanking furiously in an attempt to drag it free of my puffy little sex mound. It had the strength of three men it seemed, fat and I could do nothing to halt its progress as it diddled my sensitive ruffled lips. It opened and Rei, the girl I created yesterday, was there. He slowly lifts her shirt up a little more, I believe she thought it was me doing the moving. Me: I promise I won’t try. When he drove to the Mansion mature and entered it, he met Mandy and was very impressed with her. I really can’t wait to see what you have planned for this place.” I stared at her with my mouth indian agape in shock, and she gave me a sly wink as her tongue lathered my base, her throat constricted in a coil of massaging heat, her lips sealed and pulled with perfect suction. My dick twitched as I stared at those open lips. Any more?" It's even got a dark ridge around the head, just like a guy's dick-head does. And then he couldn’t stop himself. Let’s take it as it goes, if something bothers me too much, I’ll send you on your way.” She led me over to the grass and pointed to a spot, “Sit down right there and cross your legs like an Indian. “PLEASE!” Brigitte pleaded. “So what you guys are saying is that you’d both like to fuck me, right?” When I am away on one of the trips you cannot cum tribute me unless I tell you that you can. Her breasts were huge and I was finding it difficult to hold them in both hands. Just head upstairs and find a bed and crash, it’s okay.” i went out with my friend and about 9:30. Her big tail wrapped around him, holding him close. I continued to probe her pussy with my tongue. As she observed the puffy membrane, she could imagine a cock scratching them as it entered the pussy. I examined her body for over five minutes as both of us were silent. As I feels his cock is filling each inch of my pussy hungrily. “That would be treason now.” I backed up and shot the rest of my load down her throat. Sooner you get used to it, the sooner it becomes easier on you.” I can just ask Grandpa to shower feed Prince for amateur me that night, too. Jennie knew she had to do it properly fat so started to kiss back. My tears may have dried up but I was still terrified and in total shock.