I have a pitcher made.”Carol and I agreed that the Cuba Libre’s sounded refreshing and told Dave that we would each have one. We all went out ont... the deck and took a seat in the shade. We spent quite some time and a few Cuba Libre’s just getting acquainted. I was really enjoying looking at Des….my cock hadn’t settled down a bit since we got here. Des is about 5’9, with dark brunette hair. I would guess that she wears a 36C bra and her hips are probably around a 34. She is well. She begs me to see the pics. It's naughty. Very naughty. I shouldn't. But I can't resist showing her the most recent. She purses her lips and lets blow a low, slow whistle. "I'm not sure this is appropriate for me to say but he would TOTALLY get it." "Oh believe me babe," I reply with a grin. "He's going to totally get it." The photo doesn't arrive until late that evening. By then I'd been drinking with bff for hours and was home, getting ready for bed. But I know I need to see him. I was about. In the drawers here, justlike the skirts, the underwear he was filling up the case with now werenothing like he had once loved to wear. It was all about comfort. Fullcotton briefs that covered everything, although he did note with a smilethat there was still a lot of pink in amongst them. Always hisfavourite colour.He took one more look at the smaller case, taking in the contents of hisnighties, knickers, bras, tights, a couple of scarves, his fluffyslippers and of course his small. He waited until Lou Reed had finished singing ‘Perfect Day’ before stepping from the car. The buzzer on the door intercom panel crackled announcing his arrival, an abrupt voice on the other end asking him to wait until someone could attend to him. Brushing snow from his face and taking shelter under a small canopy above the door, his back against the wall, his clip-board and tape measure held firmly against his chest, the brief interlude giving him a moment to reminisce, memories of his.