I wasexcited to be dressing in Grace's clothes - with her permission. No -at her request.I decided not to dally. I went into her room, finished fold...ng herintimates, and carefully placed each in the correct drawer. I then wentinto her closet and scanned her racks of dresses, skirts and blouses.She had so many clothes! I knew that, on her, they would lookbeautiful. I had my doubts that any would look good on me. But I hadto try to please her. I finally picked a dress that I liked. I. Forget 15 year old nymphos, when you get to our age, think more like forty plus year old aging has-beens -except Sam wasn't. A has-been that is. Divorced yes, has-been no way. In fact that's really the problem. I trust the woman about as far as I can fling a grand piano. Which, with my back, is not a lot! Something was definitely not quite above board.The object of my concern had arrived a couple of hours before, stiff and tired and manky after a rather long sojourn on the roads, through the. Without exception, they all seemed to be happy. Very happy, in fact. How odd, she thought.Completing their tour, Jenny led the way into the cafeteria. The two got coffee and Jenny led the way to an isolated table where they could talk privately. Finally seated, she asked, “Well, what did you see?”“I saw a lot of happy-looking women,” Kim replied, still puzzled.“How about bras?”“Huh?”“Bras,” Jenny repeated. “You know ... Those things that some women use to hold their tits up?”Kim just slowly. Something else which surprised her, fascinated her, and drew her interest. He actually sat there, enjoying it, enjoying himself as he touched himself in ways that she honestly believed most men would never admit to in doing, only when alone. But here he was, showing her what he enjoyed, what he liked, and in many ways how it felt through the expressions on his face, his breathing, and even his escaped sighs of pleasure and ecstasy as his orgasm grew nearer and nearer.She was almost afraid to.