“Happy eighteenth birthday, Lisa,” he said, lifting her skirt and slipping his hand down her white panties.

“Thank you, Mr. Foster,” she said.

“Why don’t you take off that shirt and show me your tits while I warm up this fresh, little pussy?”

“O-okay… I mean… Yes, Sir,” she said and started unbuttoning her blouse.

She was just glad she lived in such a progressive town, where women could be fucked by any man that wanted them. Turning eighteen in a paradise like that was fantastic.

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