That was just an act so that I could have a little freedom from the parents."That explains it, I thought as I watched her. She was now down to bra and...panties. The bra was medium blue and the panties were navy and white striped and skimpy. ACtually they were smaller than skinpy. They were a triangle in front and a couple strings in back. As she removed them I saw that she was indeed very beautiful.Her skin was a little translucent. You could just see the tracery of veins underneath. She had a. She tried to fight it, but they were enjoying their growing intoxication at the hands of the chemical onslaught, and she shared their tipsy giddiness as they finally succumbed to its influence, and began to swell slowly and luxuriously. She sat there, unable to stop them as they dutifully carried out the potion's instructions, responding to her half-hearted pleas with seductive promises of pleasure. She hated it, and especially hated that part of herself feeling a small but growing eagerness to. She had not said anything to anyone yet, dreading the moment and only nursed it in her own mind, where it lay so great it had gotten so she could think of little else. Each time she started to bring up the subject she would always think better of it and held her tongue, delaying once again. But now, there was no putting it off.She felt at odds with the conflict between wanting to remain with her companions where for the very first time in her life she felt wanted, needed, loved, and true. One day I came home from work in a pouring rain and had just started getting settled in when I heard a knock on the door. When I opened the door I was met with a young black boy, I'm guessing probably about 18 to 20 years of age, who was drenching wet. He told me that he lived with his uncle in the next building but when he got home his uncle was away and he couldn't get in and asked if he could come in the dry until he could go home. Of course I invited him in and bringing him a towel to sit.