I also practiced using make-up until I felt that I couldcreate a good feminine illusion of a sophisticated lady. I never went outside my apartment dre...sed or told anyone about my fetish, that is until Imet Ann and Tom on the Internet.Of course the weather was not co-operating that evening, and the airportswere very busy causing me to arrive a little after 9 PM (or 12 AM backhome). Ann and Tom met me and helped load up my luggage in the car, andthen we were off to their house. Ann looked just. He never gavemuch of it second thought until she started sending the emails. She had savedall their chats for the last two years and had sent him a sample of some ofthem to prove it. There was the section of chat where he told her about how muchhe hated his wife. When he wrote it he was angry and maybe overstated hisfeelings. But there it was and it looked real bad. His heart sank a little withevery new email she sent him. Each one pieces of conversation that woulddestroy his marriage and his. Gently probing his fingers between my pussy lips, he rubs the surrounding flesh in circular motions, examining each inch carefully. He slowly moves upward, massaging the flesh surrounding my clit. His fingers feel amazing and they take their effect on my body, my pussy growing warm. Then the thought occurs, he of course is going to notice the wetness forming between my legs… My face glows with embarrassment as I pray he does not notice my reaction. But I can’t quite figure what exactly is going. As well as Mr. Biggenstiff's prize possession.At Mr. Biggenstiff's direction, Stacey stood and turned around asMr. Biggenstiff unhooked the boy's bra.When Stacey did another 180 to face Mr. Biggenstiff, he was wearing onlytented panties.And Mr. Biggenstiff got his first sight of the twin titties on which hewould be nursing for three delightful years.Mr. Biggenstiff gulped.They were delightful. Big and puffy. More girlish than he could haveever hoped for.Those pretty nipples alone were worth.
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When I had finished, I was standing at BMW Boy’s door.He opened it. His expression hardened. “Oh. It’s you,” he said, neither angry nor accusa
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