Willow was now tenderly moving her dark fingers into the pink moist entrance to Faythe’s electric charged womanhood. She knew full well how to find the places to send a girl into pure delightful orgasms of pleasure.<br/><br/>“I think that love is a myth our minds need to explain passion and lust into terms we can accept as being acceptable. We for some strange reason need to believe in something intangible to justify the tangible.”<br/>