Giving Away Virginia Holton

"Brian, I am so glad I found you and Sherryl here at Hair and There. I'm trying to show off your handiwork as often as I can without getting myself arrested. And I feel as if I should apologize for the fact that when you touch me and trim my fur I get wet. I hope it doesn't bother you...but it's your fault. "

"Marla," he shot back without missing a beat, "whatever problem you might present to me in the practice of my profession, that is certainly not one of them. Dear Lady, it is all I can do to be well mannered and keep my hands to myself when you're here. In the proper fashion, of course."

He smiled at her and winked.

"Why in the world would you want to keep your hands to yourself, Brian?" Marla would ask with an air of innocence. "Actually, I would find those hands remarkably pleasing and relaxing. Why not think about that over the weekend?"

He had always laughed with her, had always been a gentleman in every respect. Yet in her heart of hearts she did not at all find unpleasant the thought of his strong, gentle hands roving over her flesh, playing with her fur, sinking tenderly into her moist pussy. And when she was alone and allowed her imagination out to play she usually enjoyed a luscious little orgasm at the thought of Brian's hands caressing her intimate parts.

Her tiny leather skirt with its wide black belt and large but not garish gold buckle simply guaranteed that anyone near her could and would see everything Marla Holton possessed between her smooth muscular legs. If an observer looked carefully as she walked toward or away from her that person could see the extremities of her fur and a delicious hint of the lower curve of her ass. If she bent over or stooped for any reason, all those within visual range could feast their eyes on Marla's gorgeous fluff and her mouth-watering bottom.

When she sat, wherever she sat, nothing was covered other than a small area just below her waist and the tiny portion of her bottom visible from either side.