I smiled as I sauntered to her, the heat building in my pussy. Juices ran down my thighs.“And ... I assume I have to quench this tool in your ... pa...sion?” I asked her, stroking the smooth handle. “I can’t help but notice how sleek you made these tools.”“How else can my God’s blessing reach through my body?” she asked, giving me a naughty look. Her thighs spread wide, her bush bright-red and dripping with her cream.“You are a naughty one,” I said, kneeling before my sex slave. “I love it.”She. I wore only my crop top and yoga pants and would often arrive on my ownat the studio as, as Bea, I had become confident wearing what many womenwould call fairly revealing clothing.But then, I started to find that Rita had schooled me too well in being awoman. In fact so well I was starting to think that I was a womantrapped in a man's body. Only I found when I arrived at the studio thata group of young Muslim men would make advances towards me.It started fairly innocently. "Hey Bea! Want to. But I asked her I want to only see her private parts. So she agreed.I parked the car in the dark and touched her breasts and started pressing them. She was tensed thinking whether anyone will come. I told her be cool. But no one would be coming to this place. We went to the backseat of the car. I told her to open her kurti so I can see her breasts in real. She did. My god! They were so white. Her nipples were pink. I put my hands on her nipples and started rubbing them. Damn soft it was! She. " The lady was holding a popular black pump with three and one half inch heals. Kathy directed the woman to sit down so she could measure her foot.Kathy helped the lady slip off her shoe and slid it into the foot measurer. The woman had on a pair of very expensive silk stockings that clung to her perfectly shaped ankle and foot, and while Kathy adjusted the position of her foot, she thought that she heard the lady make a small gasping sound! Kathy looked up to see if everything was okay, but.