" Bobby said in a macho voice.Bobby asked a couple more questions and they decided to make the mold the next day, which was Saturday. Their father wen... golfing on Saturday mornings if the weather was good. He'd been enjoying himself since his wife had run off.Saturday morning Chuck said goodbye and hauled his clubs out the door.Brandy had thought about making Bobby's mold almost constantly since he had agreed to do it, and had been agitated the whole time, at a low level of ... horniness. She. I kick off my high heels. Black pointy pumps, last season’s Prada. On any other woman the heels would’ve looked ordinary enough, if not a little posh and expensive. But on my feet – an exquisitely dainty size 4, with an equally fetching set of legs to go with – they look fucking fantastic. No, I’m not being conceited. Quite the contrary, for that matter. The women who notice my petite feet tend to first coo about how cute my shoes are (anything looks adorable at that size, even if it’s a pair. "Not my sister came in with a pair of black nylon panties between her thumbs and snickering saying "LOOK WHAT I GOT FOR YOU, SEXY PANTIES OOOOHHH!"I started crying and she put them on me saying, look perfect fit. I will put your wet clothes in the dryer. I started crying harder and fell top the floor and crawled under the bed.After a while, I started rubbing my penis in the panties as it felt better than anything in my life. I have never masturbated, but looked like I was learning.A few mins. My pelvis pressed hard against you... I would stop... I would want to feel myself deep inside of you… this was another special moment... being still despite every urge forcing to push on was almost tantric… my occasional cock throbs would be matched by your strong vaginal contraction... making a tight space even tighter... my cock would feel as if it was fitted inside a tight glove... you would raise your head and try to get a visual of your parted legs and my fully buried penis... the lack of.