’ They were all very camp and one could also discern their presence by the overpowering reek of some or other, ‘in vogue’ cologne. In the househ...ld I grew up men simply did not wear cologne, and my father developed dreadful hay-fever if my mother wore perfume. I also never bothered with deodorants, because my dad believed it a total waste of money. The guys in the bar were rather rough looking. They mainly wore leather or plaid shirts and leather or denim trousers. Facial hair was also in. They were so small that I could make out the lips of her pussy and the groove between.My heart was pounding as she stood there, nearly naked as I drank in her sexy body."So, you like how it makes me look?" Oh, Mom, you look better than the Playboy girls." My, my, that good, huh? And so my son reads Playboy?" Well, mostly the pictures, Mom," I answered truthfully, grinning."Well, thank you, son, you've made my day," and she bent over and gave me another kiss, this one with the tip of her tongue. Her chewing compulsion was a sign of great stress. Most notably, she couldn't stop crossing and uncrossing her long slender and shapely legs again and again.She gave furtive glance down to confirm "her business" was not showing.The patient's name was Henrietta. Henrietta was a "She". Yes, she was certain she was a "she". The problem was ambiguity and, of that, there was plenty. She was very sensitive about what she called, "her business". In the shower room at school, she always dressed-over. She giggles then turns completely around while looking over her shoulder and says look at my thick fat legs my thighs are touching. It's so fucking naughty and kinky. I say no no you are standing with them touching move your leg just a inch over as she did it was perfect I had this amazing view of this phat bubble ass barely fitting in this tight short shorts her thought gap was like a picture perfect diamond. She ten days it's ok your my sister husband you can tell me the truth and be honest..