She had corseted,worn the ballet boots, smothered herself in silk,satin, taffeta. Hidden her face, been demure, feminine, submissive, obedient. Dumb w...th lipstick, blind with mascara. During the day. From the first moment she had entered His bed shehad worked hard. She ensured that His pleasure was paramount. She had sucked,groaned, opened herself, demeaned herself, knelt and kissed. She readeverything she could on the arts of love, she hadexercised her body, her vagina.She could grip Him,. Unfortunately, the grinding grew worse. When the truck gave a final lurch, Henry gripped the steering wheel. He might not be a mechanical engineer, but he knew the sound of metal on metal when he heard it. The interstate was straight and flat, but it was also full of 18-wheelers traveling eighty miles an hour. He looked for a place to pull over.The transmission gave a final squeal and the engine died.The steering grew heavy and Henry aimed for the shoulder. An air horn bellowed as a truck. Feeling the unmistakable crinkle of money, I moved my chin down to her shoulder, smelling her hair and feeling her cheek against mine. The clerk, having keyed in the price of the briefs that she had selected for me, looked up to see us grinning at one another.She wore the Red Sox cap most of that day, her light brown hair sticking out the opening in the back of the hat and flowing down in a loose pony tail. She wore the hat even while trying on various items of ladies underwear. I sat in a. Opening it wide, I’m greeted by two adorable princesses, three assorted superheroes, and a very attractive dad I recognize immediately as Will Benson from down the street. His wife, Chelsea, is the petite blonde who had chastised me for using foul language during the Welcome Wagon’s invasion of my home. Will is medium height with brown hair and eyes, and looks to be in his mid-forties. He’s got classic American good looks, and I am immediately aroused at the thought of stripping him naked in my.