He has posted some news and a few recent new pictures. Several of them show him posing with several different girls before a concert last weekend. One of the girls is around the same height as Shania. She looks a little similar, with the same haircut even. She likes the way he fits his right arm around the girl’s shoulder. It looks in the picture as if his right hand is on her right breast. She guesses it is not actually touching her breast but it certainly looks as if it is. It is just hanging an inch or so in front of it. If he flexed his wrist, he could hold the whole breast in his strong hand.
Shania wonders what it would feel like to have his hand on her breast. She wants to feel his hand on her breast. She wants to feel both his hands on both of her breasts. Her breasts are adequate she feels, better than the girl in the picture. She looks about a B cup. Shania had just bought her first C cup a few weeks ago. Her mum helped her choose it from a little boutique in town. She hopes they will stop growing now she is older. She does not want them any bigger. They are quite a handful as it is.
She feels her left breast with her left hand. Her right hand is clicking on the pictures; she keeps returning to the one with the hand on the breast. She downloads it and opens it in her picture viewer. She enlarges the picture and crops it until she has just the two heads and down to their waists. She squeezes her breast through the thin T-shirt. Her right hand is no longer busy with the picture. She squeezes both breasts. She squeezes quite hard. She likes the feeling as she molds and pulls at the firm mounds of flesh.
She slips the T-shirt over her head and places it under her bottom on the chair. She looks in the mirror once again; she likes what she sees. She keeps in good shape and eats properly; her mum sees to that. She recalls a video her mother liked to watch many times when she was younger. The good-looking singer came out of the television screen and danced with the watching girl. It was a sort of cartoon. Shania tries to remember the name of the band but all she can think of is A-ha, which surely can’t be right. She quite enjoyed the song but it was a hundred years old.
The reflection in the dim light of the mirror alters, shifts, changes; Kenny is in there, in the shadows, watching her. He reaches out his right hand; she takes it and he slides across the desk from the mirror to the computer monitor, his picture becomes real, alive, and warm. He really is here, in the room, squeezing her hands. He drops them and moves his hands directly to her breasts, no delay, no asking permission. He is gently rolling her nipples between his fingers. He is speaking sweet words of love and devotion, telling her how beautiful she is, how he will stay with her forever, love her, make babies with her and give her everything she could ever wish for.
Shania smiles at him, baring her even white teeth as he continues his outrageous but effective flattery. She does not speak, she just listens and watches. She feels a tingle and the first hint of moisture between her legs. When she gets aroused, she gets very wet. She has been pleasuring herself for some time now, she knows what happens when she masturbates. She knows very well; she does it every night with Kenny in her bed. Right now, it is just dampness more than anything else. She blows the picture up once more, now it is just Kenny, the intruding girl has gone. He is close to her now, life sized. His smile brightens the room. He appears naked now, his clothing somehow melted away in the transition from the mirror to the monitor. He is erect, proud, virile and oh so handsome. His cock bobs around in front of her. It is long and thick, the head spreads like a mushroom. It is red and pink and flesh toned and hard, like an iron rod.
He is talking again, telling her what to do, telling her to take off her panties. He wants to see her naked. He tells her she has perfect breasts; not too big and not too much of a handful. He tells her he wants to see her virgin slit, her almost hairless slit. She keeps her pubic hair trimmed very short. He loves breasts, he tells her. He also loves to see young girl’s sex, preferably hairless, like hers. Shania stands and quickly gets naked; she slides her panties off her feet and flicks them onto the bed. She sits down again on the swivel chair at her desk. She adjusts the web-cam on top of the monitor. She clicks it on so that the small screen opens in the top right corner of her monitor. It clearly shows her body from the head to the knees. She makes sure that she has not connected it to a website; it is just showing him what he wants to see. He tells her what he wants. She complies, willingly.
Her right hand slips between her legs, she spreads them as far as she is able on the chair. She places her feet on the desk at both ends. The picture shows her knees at the edges of the screen. Her young pussy gapes open, glistening pink with her slick juice. Her tapered, manicured fingers slip over her lips, spreading them apart while her middle finger dips slightly into her pussy, smoothing the moisture over the whole area.
She slides her index finger inside, together with her middle finger. She pushes deeper inside, until her palm touches her pubic bone. She pumps, slowly, gently, feeling the heat spread through her body. Kenny is smiling, concentrating his gaze on her pussy.
She withdraws her wet fingers and tastes her juice, licking her fingers clean. Kenny smiles and tells her he likes her doing that. She resumes touching herself. She rubs in a circular motion all over her lips, pressing hard on her clitoris. Her left hand spreads her lips, exposing the erect nub of flesh. He speaks again, telling her to put her fingers inside again.
She obliges; first one, her middle finger, then two, her index finger. She pumps and slides slowly; she keeps the pressure firmly on her clitoris as she rolls her hand over her pubic bone. She presses hard, the way she does almost every night. His face leans forward, close enough that he can smell her virgin pussy. His grin and his voice tell her she is doing it right. He tells her he wants to see her orgasm, up close. He wants to see the juice she makes, taste it even. He knows she squirts, she has told him so many times in her dreams. Her fingers pump more quickly now, her left hand holds her left breast, massaging the globe of flesh in large circles. She pinches her erect nipple every few seconds.
As she does so, she moans in pleasure. Her right hand rubs in tight, hard circles over her clitoris. The clear juice spreads under her hand. Her upper thighs are slick with her juice. She needs more friction, she is too wet. She presses harder; her hands work faster, the thrusts become deeper. Her feet are up off the desk now, high in the air, her legs forming a wide V in front of the screen. She cannot open them any further for his lustful gaze.
He gets more animated, issues more detailed demands, more explicit instructions. He holds his erection in his right hand, pumping slowly. A tiny drop of fluid appears at the tip. He swirls his hand around the distended head, spreading the oily drops, lubricating himself.