At least in public. Now, here they were about to embark on a trip through the mall. They met at the back of the car. Deana grabbed Evan's hand. "Why did you park so far away? You should carry me. The pavement is burning my feet through these flip-flops." Evan turned to face Deana and voyuer grabbed her other hand. They stood a few feet apart with their arms extended like a sagging rope bridge. Deana's silky black hair floated up behind her on a breeze. He didn't have to imagine what the cones under her tank top felt like or how good it was to have those long, dark legs wrapped around him. He wished Deana hadn't worn those bubble-butt-fitting khaki shorts. Other guys were going to stare at her. "You nervous?" he asked. She nodded. "A amateur little." "Me too." He turned his back to Deana. "Jump on." Deana did, and he reached back and used her butt to shove her up. She giggled and tightened her legs around his waist. "Giddyup." Evan refused to make the horse sound and galloped the way he did when they were kids, but he carried Deana to the door, hoping none of their friends from school would see them. "You been thinking about what I should get them?" he asked. "I have," Deana said and pressed her lips to his ear. "I know how hard that was for you. Thank you." There wasn't anything in Target that Deana wanted to know about, so they were quickly in the center of the mall. "How much money do you want to spend?" Deana asked. "Why, what's on your mind?" "I probably shouldn't say what's on my mind, not here, but I know what you should get them." He tilted his teen head to the side, faking curiosity for the latter part of his indian sister's comment. "Them?" "Yeah, it'll be perfect for both of them. Her smile turned taunting. He then added, “I understand voyuer your slaves will be part of the entertainment tonight.” As we made our way downstairs, Vlad and I decided that we should fill Mr. Dudley in on the real situation. I amateur could hear the gentle swish of “Bianca…” Jordan snickered. Lexi extended her tongue, and I felt the wet tip give an experimental lick on the wrinkled pucker of my pooper. The room spun. She began to moan, long drawn out sounds that lasted two or three thrusts. If you can find one, you will go to the kind of club where they tie each other teen up and whip and indian paddle each other. In the morning I wasn’t sure how much was true and how much was a dream. I just don’t know where you find the courage.” Pakpao nodded. Sister Julia’s back was a mosaic of welts, her pale ass was red with handprints, her cheeks were ruby with my strikes, and yet she begged for more. Cue the cough moment.