”“Wow. That’s some good stuff, Mrs. Fleming. You know, I wouldn’t doubt it at all if you were the prettiest girl in your sixth-grade class.”...��Well Charles, thank you. That’s very sweet of you to say,” she said.Brian pulled me back and hit me in the arm and mouthed, ‘What the hell?’ to me.Whispering, I said to him, “What? I was just being nice to your mother.”“Well, don’t hit on her?” Brian whispered back to me.“I wasn’t hitting on her. I was just trying out, on her, what she had said. Get a. Then Richard tried to hand me a pink babydoll nighty on a hanger. I froze. Richard, looked at me and asked me, "what's the problem cunt?" I said, "that's my wife's, I never wear her clothes, she's too meticulous about them." Richard was losing his patience, he held it out and said through gritted teeth, "look slut, don't make me dress you!" I knew he meant it, and in fact, I had the feeling he'd like to slap me around. The thought made me feel weak, helpless and beneath him. At that thought I. Anyways, I moved up and up and had to stretch up a lot to accommodate all 10 sentences. And writing up was worse. My ass was jiggling of course, but now my smooth sweaty armpits were exposed fully.I could feel the cold AC breeze on my sweaty armpits and it was turning me on. Also now my navel was exposed because of this ridiculous short t-shirt and stretching so much. A proper slut, I had become. The boys were ogling like anything. They could not control. One of them shouted, “Pranali, turn. I knew this was my opportunity. I really needed some action, my wife wasn't going to be back until Sunday afternoon, and this was one of my fantasies just lying in front of me completely at my mercy. FIrst I slid my hand down from her shoulder, over her tank-top and hips down to her warm legs. No reaction from her at all. I was really getting excited. Immediately at full mast, I had to fight the urge to rip off my pants. I took my other hand from suppressing my bulge to her lean muscular calf..