They met every Tuesday night, at Connie’s house.“Connie?” I asked, trying to act like I didn’t know who.“You know” she replied, adding an ...ye-roll. “Connie… Connie and Stan.”“Oh Yea” I said. “I remember.”“anyway” my wife continued, “They meet at Connie’s house every Tuesday night. You don’t mind, do you? Should only be a couple of hours.”“Sure” I said, very nonchalantly. I then began to wonder what was really going on and how I would find out.I gave it a lot of thought and figured that if my. Only the bathroom light shown under the door otherwise. As I lay there, my nostrils went on high alert. Mmmmmm , I thought. That fragrance is so nice and sensuous...I remember that fragrance....but from where I ask myself as I went in and out of sleep.The fragrance grew stronger and I halfway remember you standing there. You leaned down close to my ear and whispered, 'Is there anything you want? Or need?' I felt you leaning your tits on my chest. Am I dreaming I kept asking my self. I could. On our afternoon drive back to LC, we caught up on how her visit had gone, all the inside dirty on everyone, and some of how she felt about being away from me. I was trying to judge her "sexual appetite" cause I knew mine was sky high. We talked openly about being apart and missing the intimacy that we share. I told her I had a bag full of sexy stuff I'd bought – and she just laughed! During our layover in Fort Davis I got her to model one outfit, all the others stayed in the bag (to this. Now he'd returned, he finally realised just how breathtaking her transformation was.She was covered from head to toe in a black zentai spandex catsuit. The only parts of her body exposed by the tight fitting item of clothing were her nostrils and mouth. Over the top of that, she was wearing gleaming knee-high boots with impossibly high heels, also black.Kevin watched in fascination as she put on the finishing touch, her rubber hood. Like the spandex layer beneath it, the rubber hood had tiny.