Even as a guy, it sometimes does not make sense why this is a turn on for me. It is not as if a woman is going to have sex with me, or let me go down...on her, just because she is showing me the outline of her perfect flower through the tight fitting fabric of the lower part of her ensemble. It turns me on nonetheless. I remember it when I would deliver pizza while putting myself through university. Go up to the door and ring the bell. Door opens and there is a twenty something, ‘tight as a. She has her hair a done up, and is wearing a very tight gray skirt, silver/grayish nylons, and a silk gray blouse with the top couple buttons undone and has 6” gray heels on. I liked to shit myself. She sways over and past me and sets on a bench in the garage and does not say much. I put her car up in the air and change her oil and filter for her and check over the car, but can’t focus because my dirty old man mind has nasty thoughts and my eyes are all over her. I am like dam where the hell. The weekend was here and I made arrangements with Tracey to pick her up at 4 and then off to the pub for a drink before the evening at home with a nice meal, bang on 4pm there she was, dressed in a real hot outfit, I could tell she meant business and was getting me hard, as soon as I smelt how sexy she was, her hard nipples pushed her top out and no bra, kissing her softly I run my hand up her leg and onto her bum a skimpy pair of Knickers only just covered the essential just, as we pulled up. “Glad you like it,” she replied. “I get a gay hairdresser to do it. Wasted on him I fear. Derrick’d go berserk if he knew, he thinks I’m good with the clippers!”“Derrick, is he asleep?” Mike was suddenly aware the position he was in. There could be no explanation if Derrick came onto the balcony.“Comatosed as last night. Eight beers and a bottle of wine.” Her hand got to work. Two fingers, rubbing along her lips, then parting them so a finger ran either side of her clit, then dipping inside,.