“I could easily masturbate if you did. Will you at least do that for me?” I allowed her that one thing. I looked at her tits and cleavage. They we...e scrumptious looking. I’ll give her that. I took hold of my cock. I held it like a man holds his cock when he masturbates. I let her have her fantasies. I started stroking it. I jerked it more and more. It worked better then I thought. Before I knew it she was working her pussy and both of us were getting more and more turned on by it all. She fell. My great-great grandfather had started the company. He was one of the very few Irish bankers in the city. It was rumored that he was not so much smarter than everyone else, but more ruthless. By the time I was born, there were three generations in the business and I would be part of the fourth and I actually made a decent start at it too. One day, however, all the pressure, all the stress, all the tiny threads of my life as ‘John Robert Ennis IV’ came undone. I didn’t go berserk. I didn’t tell. When the last girl had finished her cake, a messenger entered the room. He sought out Carrie and gave her the telegram he had been told to deliver when he saw the cake had been eaten by all who were there. Carrie opened the telegram and fainted.Honi Muffin rushed to her friend's side and picked up the telegram and read it. Honi got pale, she began to shake, before she could tell anyone else in the room what was in the telegram, they found out for themselves. All of the Pastry Girls began. . watching in disbelief as the long strands of hair flowed easily between his dainty fingers and his inch long fingernails!"Oh my God Terry! It's real!" he gasped."What's real?" Terry asked while staring at his friend."The hair! The nails! They're fucking real!" Aaron shrieked.Immediately, Terry also reached up to try to pull the wig off of his head. But like his friend, found it impossible to do. Every tug and pull felt like he was yanking the hair from his own scalp!"What the hell's.