In my mind’s eye, everything I saw immediately took on a sexual connotation. The arm of the couch was the perfect height and width to straddle and r...b against. Remote controls became excruciatingly phallic and had me wondering what all those little plastic knobs would feel like, bumping in and out of my hole. I’d pressed my arse against the washing machine during the spin cycle until the vibration nearly made me scream and had experienced a fervent desire to be reincarnated as a stamp when I. “Thought you might enjoy some of the local chocolate.” “Oh wow.” She accepted the present eagerly. “That’s so thoughtful. Thank you very much.” “They’re not quite Belgian,” he knew she loved European chocolate, “but I’m assured they’re pretty nice.” He knew lots about her, their easy conversations ranged far wider than the piano lessons Greg paid for. He also delighted in the wonderful aroma that met him every time he walked into Jen’s home. Her perfume: Opium. Far from being an. And besides, she liked feeling free underneath. So maybe just some stockings with a garter belt. She rolled a pair of white ones up her legs and attached them to the straps of the belt, sliding the skirt upwards to expose her thick bush. She grinned. Maybe just a teeny tiny thong, showing her pubes around the sides and leaving no doubt about the state of her pussy. Sometimes a little playful hide-and-seek was better than showing everything out in the open, she decided, putting on a white, sheer. We had an after-work beer-call at a local brewery last night. It's a great little place, lots of great beers, some decent food, and a large outside patio area, which we pretty much took over. The boss, who I will call Ann, was dressed to kill all day long. She has long hair which she wore in a pony tail down to the top of her ass, a very nice, large pair of breasts, great legs and ass. She had on a very tight pair of pants, a tight top and a pair of riding boots. As time went by and we had more.