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" Greg, God bless him, was standing his ground, at least so far. "It's a personal song for Sara, and it's too low for you." So shift it higher!" It loses something when we do that." Well, then, we don't do the song. We shouldn't have anyone singing except you and I, Greg. If you have a song that I can't sing, we shouldn't do it. Write some stuff for me to sing." And she batted her baby blues at him.This is when I, after a year of swallowing my tongue, finally exploded."Why don't you go write you own fucking songs, you bitch? Write stuff for you to sing, my ass. You don't do anything. You don't play an instrument. You don't even sing particularly well. You don't write songs. The only asset you bring to this band is your tits, and that don't impress me much." Looks like Plain Jane over there is jealous," Donna said with a sneer, tossing her blond hair behind her back."Riiiiiight." I turned back to the rest of the band. "The bottom line is this--that song goes into the permanent. I was going to fuck my cute little ass with my brush.I pushed that brush into me so deep. It was covered in sweet juiced from my pussy and so it slid in with ease. My mouth opened wide, I let out more of a gasp than a moan and I was in pure heaven. Mmm, and I thought my nipples where hard before! Ha.The smoothness of the brush sliding in and out of my tight little ass made my pussy drip! While fucking my ass, I slide two fingers from my opposite hand into my tight cunt. It was even tighter now that the brush was occupying my ass. Sweat rolled off my body and I panted as I fucked my ass harder.I was going as fast as I can into my ass and I felt my pussy walls clench up on my fingers. I was going to fucking cum! I started moaning more frequently, and more high pitched. I was breathing heavier and my hips moved around violently. Oh yesss, I was cumming!! I screamed and moaned and thrust that brush one last time into my ass deep as my fingers quickly rubbing my clit. Warm pussy juiced.
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There was a baseball diamond, a horse shoe pit, some weird sort of monkey bars and what appeared to be workout beams of various sorts with iron tie downs. For the life of me, none of it made much sense to me. Leading us on without hesitation, it was obvious Ginger had been here before. She was quite at ease as if it were a home away from home. Eventually she led us to a crushed limestone trail that led back into a well manicured woods. If it weren’t for the trees, it could have been a world class golf course. I thought of my own forest back home and how much work it would take to even take a stab at being this clean. The crushed gravel trail ended at a paver stone cul de sac. I was like Alice in Wonderland. The whole complex spoke of money and lots of it. What looked like a mini-medieval castle complete with moat and a fake draw bridge, stood at the end.“In here,” Ginger encouraged us as her black card energized an automatically opening beam and iron door. Lights flickered on as we.

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