There are the sensible skirts and dresses and blouses and shoes and all the rest. But, still, the clothing itself, even if modest, is a constant remin...er. For instance, there is my blouse: it's silk, such a cool, soft, and sensual material, so pleasurable to the touch. It's sleeveless, of course, to expose my soft upper arms. There's the color, too. I would never have thought before of wearing something in such a bright shade of pink. The brightness itself is an invitation to look at me; it?s. I went to the public bathroom and saw some of the graffiti written and it intrigued me. I had an excited, tingly feeling. When my cousin and his girlfriend took me home, I borrowed my mom's car and went back to the park. By this time it was getting dark, and I went to the bathroom and stood in a stall, pretending to urinate. Pretty soon a guy asked me to come out with him to avoid any other guys. We went to an evergreen bush that had a nice niche. He sucked by cock and I remember thinking. The far end of the room had a fireplace, the pot, now needing to be emptied, and a small wardrobe. She rose and found the wardrobe to be empty. This was unfortunate, as the king in his passion had torn the silk wrap she had been given and the morning was a bit crisp. Clymia tried the doors again. Still locked. Had she been at home, she would have called for a servant to at least start the fire, but in the stillness of the morning she knew nobody would answer. Draping a sheet around her. "Making and posting my own."The group gasped."They are anonymous!" Barb hissed at her captivated audience. "And it's for fun, not for pay, although fans have offered. My face is hidden, so no one knows it's me. I'm simply another MILF taking off my clothes and rubbing one out on camera." Naked videos of yourself out there in the world, on the internet forever?" Deb stammered. "Gosh." Another MILF?" Christine repeated. "So, there are many women our age participating in this behavior?"Barb.