I could merely catalogue for you all the ladies whom I entertained in Mistress Pickles’ house but I fear you would find it tedious. They were, it is...true, many and various; women of all ages but all from the finest families. Let me therefore select a few of those who might be of interest to you. In, I think, 1782 (I cannot be sure, time did not seem to matter in those days of my life) I was sitting alone one evening in the ladies' salon. The other girls were either resting or entertaining. I. I looked Caroline in the eye and gave a saucy wink.She blushed, stared at my black French silk knickers on the table, her mouth open, gulped in surprise and swept them into her pocket. That was only the start of the saucy things that took place that weekend. Let me properly set the scene.It was September 2016, and six of us decided to go for a long weekend to Galway. We had checked in to our hotel and went for a very good lunch.On our way there, we found an old school sweet shop that sold me a. I still was amazed that a "Gold's Gym" could be so old and run-down looking. I remember seeing Arnold Schwartzenegger working out at one back in the 1970's on videos in a HUGE building. This place was only about 2000 square feet. The music Marcus played was crappy. It was a bunch of Nickleback, and music like that. I keep my headphones on most of the time. I finished up, and noticed Amanda was outside of her car as I walked out. "Have a nice day." I said to her. "Oh, you too. I have to. ”“Have you ever flashed anyone your ... you know, your pussy?”“No.”“Why not?”“I don’t like it.”Women. I genuinely don’t understand them. I’ve not once encountered a vagina that wasn’t supremely attractive, but just like Mom and her legs, it turned out that Lucy had a thing about her pussy.That at least explained why it had been so (relatively) easy to get her top off.Session A36:“Okay Mom, hypothetical: you’re 20 years old. How do you feel about your legs?”“I like them.”“Why do you like.