Lesbian Virgin Teens


Lesbian Virgin Teens
“Hsst,” Angie’s warm breath whispered into my ear. “I’ll try to
stretch, see if I still see them in the field below.”

My view was obstructed both by tree and statue alike, so I simply
nodded. She humped herself up a bit, her hands on my hips. She soon
found a hole she could peek through, and dropped back down again.

Her breath was hot, not warm, as she breathed against the back of my
neck. I could feel the small hairs stiffen there in response.

“They’re still out there, Jane.” She held on to my hips. I felt very
unusual, trapped on top of a statue with my roomie, a stolen Frat
banner in my hands. Fear had vanished, a certain conspiratorial
sensation drew me closer to Angie in that moment. A sense of
comradery, perhaps a sense of close affection.