She was dressed in a garment that had strips of cloth passing over the shoulders that then descended to cover her breasts, just. The breasts were unsu...ported and from what I could see, and what I could see was a considerable amount of breasts. They were like beautiful twin cupolas, firm, yet moving just sufficiently to be tantalising. During our ensuing conversation it was an effort of will not to keep staring at them. The garment terminated just below her knees and was split almost to the hip. He ran his fingers over the ruffleson his little panties and on the bra straps. He turned from side to sideto look at his reflection. He admired how the panties clung to hisbottom. He stroked the silken surface of the stockings. He suddenlyrealised what he was doing. What the hell was going on? Was he actuallyenjoying the clothes? Had he somehow switched from hating the clothes,to tolerating the clothes, to enjoying them?He dressed in the rest of his work clothes and set out for the office.As. We all got in her car, not really a car but a transport vehicle that didn’t require a driver, with all three of us in the back. I sat in the middle of Azola and Lizzy, while Jasmine sat on the other side of us. They all wore the traditional attire of their race. It looked like a Japanese komodo but it opened fully in the front like a bath robe. It was so warm sitting between them. Their body’s natural temperature stayed several degrees higher than ours. I felt so small sitting between their. At first it was just a fling that started after one drunken night, but after we started meeting secretly for our sexual desires it turned into something else. The first night my master took me as his, I was partying at a friend’s house, and met him earlier in the evening. He was a biker, and I always had the hots for rough Harley type guys. We flirted with one another most the night innocently so I thought. I drank too much and passed out. I woke up to my breasts being fondled and a strong hand.