Way out. I had never considered her as anything more than afantasy. The Barret's were white and from the expensive end of town. Herfather was the pres...dent of the rugby club. He was Head of the volunteerfire brigade and a member of rotary. In short he was really well respectedand a community leader. Me I was nothing more than the young Maori larrikintrying to date his daughter. The poor bastard it was his worst nightmareexploding right before his very eyes. I think it was fair to say at the. I could see her stiff nipples under the lacey demi bra. “First, your garter straps go under your panties. It makes everything much easier.” She watched me as I rearranged the straps under the elastic bands of her panties. I showed her how to work the clasps on the tops of her stockings. I had her put on the high heels I had selected and then stood back to allow her to see herself in the full-length mirror. “Wow! You look stunning!” I gushed. She beamed as she stared, transfixed, looking at. He dialed thenumber for the Central Massachusetts State School andgot the records office.“I need the records for a student, please.”“Social security number?” a gruff male voice demandedrudely. “034-99-6669.”“That D. Porter?” The voice didn’t sound like a guidancecounselor in a school system to Glen.“Yes. Can you tell me something about–”“Look Mac, hundreds come in and go out as fast as I canbook ’em here in. ’34C?’ she asked a little brazenly, smiling as she lifted the hanger from the rack and held the push-up bra against her bosom. ‘In that case, you won’t go wrong with this.’ He studied the gorgeous silk the salesgirl pressed lightly to her subtle cleavage, aware that his face was on fire. He was certain his cheeks were the color of the bra she cupped lightly in her hands, its straps hooked on her thumbs. Still, he could imagine his wife in this and the matching lace panties, almost a g-string,.