I had a goal and focus. I let that slip away and get lost in the pleasures of a world that wasn’t even real for me. I wasn’t just a party-girl or ... whore, even if that was what I was acting like.I was looking through the Sunday paper. It contained a lot of ads, which I went through and more news than I truthfully cared about. Curiously, I found myself combing through the ‘Jobs’ listing in the Want Ads. I stopped and thought about that. Would a change in job location help me? Maybe it would.. Some of the closer boys could even see thick fluid, a combination of saliva and secretions, dripping from the corners of the girl's mouth and run in tiny streams down her cheeks as the little innocent daughter and the others reveled in the cruel humiliation which Stan Lubin was subjecting her to. All the boys were able to view through the daze of their own mounting desires Jennifer's soft, wet mouth clasping greedily the growing penis pumping into her face, the thin, tensile rim of her lips. I decided to keep it fairly simple so went for a dark suede knee length skirt and a white blouse with short puffy sleeves that was so thin it was basically see through. Now for the exciting part, the underwear. My mum had something of a treasure trove of sexy lingerie and I ended up opting for a pair of lacy bikini cut briefs and a matching bra. Stuffing the bra with tissues gave me what approximated my mum's C-cup and then sliding the panties up my newly smooth legs was something of an erotic. “And that would be your business…?” I started, mimicking her. “You smug little bitch. You got laid!” She sat up in interest. “Okay, let’s swap stories, you first.” “No, you.” “Okay. No, I didn’t get laid. I was tired and hot and drunk and I went straight to bed. Now you?” “Me neither.” “Lying bitch.” She went back to her paper. A delivery van pulled up in front of the house. A young man opened the sliding door and pulled out a large box that looked like it was big enough hold a bag of golf.