Cars passed on the dimly lit street in front of the house. Her hand ran down my back and up under my dress, roaming over my buttocks and further. “W...en did you take them off?” “I didn’t put any on.” “And proper stockings too! You came out hoping to find someone, someone to fuck you?” The statement was made a question by the inflection of her voice. “Yes, but not just anyone. It had to be someone I wanted.” “You’re wet.” I wasn’t going to argue, her finger confirmed what she said as it slipped. Adele Edwards burst into the small room preceded by a miasma of perfume."I don't know why you spend so long picking out your suit, they all lookthe fucking same anyway," she teased."You should talk. You dress like Erin Brockovitch on a bad day," Celiaquipped.Both women had showered, coiffed, applied makeup, dressed in foundationgarments and were deciding what to wear for work.Adele came up behind Celia and pulled her close, pressing against her andnuzzled her neck."Stop that. We have work." . Their losses never really mounted, because one, or the other would always catch a good drop and make back a bit.The two men were clearly middle-eastern. One was a little over six feet and just under two hundred pounds. He had a runner's body and hawk like features. If it came to blows, I HAD to take him down first, or I wouldn't live long enough to worry about the other one. He was shorter, perhaps five foot seven, built exactly like a fire hydrant, and had no neck, what-so-ever. His arms. It was all just a fantasy, an escape. I wanted to tell her so, but my body was shivering and I think I might have been in a bit of shock. I didn’t even get up to close the door and hide my naked body and my sex doll, currently named ‘Peyton’ and still dripping my cum from her vaginal opening.I slept not a wink but I didn’t get off the bed except when I had to pee badly somewhere around five in the morning, and by then, I was up for the day. I was wired on the dread of facing my granddaughter.