"Hey, it's no problem," I assured him. "I get nauseous flying that high and that fast, anyway. Well, we'd best get this show on the road, huh?" What w...uld you like for your attire?" Francesca asked.I looked down. I was in the plain tan robe that they usually dressed me in when I arrived."How about a pair of jeans?" I asked."Jeans?" Wizen said. "What are jeans?"He turned to Francesca."Do you know anything about jeans?" he asked her.Her blush was exceptionally becoming. Evidently "jeans" were in. Janine was tall - 5'9" at least, long jet black hair that hung almost to her waist, green eyes, the face of an angel and a body that would drive a Saint mad with lust - narrow waist, slim hips, high up-thrust breasts and a superior ass. I could not keep my eyes off her; they followed her around the room as she moved from group to group meeting her new neighbors. A voice from behind me said:"You're drooling. Should I get you a bib?" I turned to find Carol, my wife of fifteen years. "It's obvious. It took a long time to come to terms with the state's Republican establishment, largely because Richard Webber, the Chairman of the State Committee, did not like me. It was pure bigotry, nothing personal. He didn't like Ivy Leaguers, social sciences or anyone born out of state. After years of being discriminated for my looks, my sexual preferences and my sex, he was almost refreshing.His problem was threefold. First, the party was in a bind for a candidate in the 2nd District. Longtime. The shaking and quivering started back again. He tried to soothe me by rubbing my shoulders, but I could feel my pendant clip-on earrings bobbing about like chandeliers in an earthquake. When lifted his hands, I fell forward against the couch. He went to work slowly and methodically, lifting my skirt up and sliding my panties down - just enough to expose the important parts. I heard his fly unzip behind be and then a gentle and determined pressure against my anus. A brief intermission for lube,.