Your end of your shoes just hit the floor and your traditional white socks are still pulled up in traditional position . I rest my hand on your skirt ... I won't spank you over your skirt , pointless, so I lift it and you feel the cool air wash over your knickered bottom . Your eyes widen , waiting.... You don't even hear what I am scolding you about , you just get the picture in your mind of a naughty disobedient schoolgirl about to be punished . I start to spank you , left cheek then right, it. She loved the feel of the corset and panties on him and resolved then and there that during any further sex, he'd be wearing feminine garments or there would be no further sex. She felt a bit guilty about that, but it was how she felt.But Roosevelt felt the same way. He loved the silky fabric rubbing on his rear end and the tight feeling of the corset around his mid-section. He'd perform for his wife without them if she wanted, but if he could talk her into it, Rosa would be spending a lot more. My knuckles were white as I clutched at the padded cement seat. It felt like it was my only lifeline to something tangible. Looking up, sweat dripping profusely from my face, I realized I was in the heart of the third floor promenade with dozens of people all around me. This was the last place that I wanted to be! The plants only gave me partial cover, but there was a water fountain I hadn’t seen earlier. Either way, with the way things were going, this half-ass hideout would have to do. I. No one seems all that interested in having an appetizer at the bar. “Heidi, are you from this area?” I ask trying to get some conversation going.“No, not really. I grew up a bit north of here in San Francisco. When I graduated high school, I went to San Diego State University and then Law School. I applied to the agency in my last year of law school and was accepted,” she tells us.“Patrick, are you from here?” I ask.“Yep, I grew up in a small town called San Marino. We lived in a small home on.