My pussy lips are a light brown but I can see the faint hint of pinkness inside. My upper body is actually rocking slightly with each heartbeat. I start slow - touching the bit of wetness on the thigh next to my cunt and then bringing my finger to my nose, breathing in deeply. I moan and close my eyes from the scent. My fingers automatically go to my mouth, in deep to the back of my tongue and then out as I clean myself off. It's different with just the woman's taste and no cum but still intensely erotic. Slightly funny to me that I have no issue tasting myself as a woman but refuse to taste my own cum as a man. I blush when my brain helpfully offers up memories of me cleaning cum off of my fingers the other night. Finally, I bring my fingers down to my pussy. It's electric - sensitive where I touch the lips but it goes straight to the pit of my stomach. The lips stick for a moment as I spread them apart. My ass and hips wriggle at the feeling, nearly jerking. I'm pink and wet. Unfortunately, I didn’t know what happened to him or where he might be if he was still alive. “Is that what you hoped I could help with?”She shook her head and sniffed. “No. I’m fairly certain that if Henry were still alive, he would find a way to come back.”Her certainty was strong, if misplaced. “What makes you so sure?”She looked at me. “Because.”I shook my head. “Just because ... you believe?”She nodded. “I have to,” she said in a tone that, to me, sounded like a cross between desperate hope, and bleak fear. I didn’t like hearing it, but if she had lived with this desire for Henry for that many years, I could understand her emotional turmoil.I sighed and asked, “You said you needed help. What kind of help?”She looked at me for a long moment. “The magical kind,” she said, looking away. “Henry used me for spells he developed. Most of the spells were fairly simple.” She gently squeezed her immense chest with her arms and then slapped her round hip with one hand. She met my eyes with.
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