Colette, carefullyslip your fingers inside the waistband and pull off her support hose. Becareful not to disturb her panties," Katherine told her son...."That's avery good girl," she added add he did so.As Colette pulled Tessa's pantyhose down he was overtaken by the almostoverpowering musky scent of the older woman."Ah, there now, that does feel good," Tessa said as Colette proceeded tomassage her feet once more. "I could get used to this," she added. Thenlooking down at him she said. How are you all doing? My name is Deva (not real name).Let me briefly tell you about myselfI’m now 27 years old, 5.95 feet height, athletic body and average looking. I have my Own Business and I’m a Martial Arts and Yoga Trainer in Bangalore, Hyderabad and Chennai gyms. (Why so many places you will know in the stories.People who may know me might study these stories so I want to keep my identity undisclosed. I’m writing these stories with the permission of few ladies with whom I’m in contact. As we had lunch I felt his eyes on my breast and when I got up to us the rest room I felt his eyes following my every move and I know it might have been wrong but it felt good to get the attention my husband had not be able to get an erection in several years and paid very little attention to me. Jerome walk me back to my car his arm around my waist hand right on top of my butt. I thought what if some one saw we in a small southern town and a black man with a white woman but right then I didn't. ” The thoughts in my head are completely irrational. I know they are. It’s not anything you’ve done or said. There are no marks on me exposing a wound. There is just emotion. “Please talk to me, what did I do?” With tears in my eyes all I can do is press my head against your chest. “…hold me” is all I can mutter as tears start to leave their wet trail down my cheeks. “Oh, Michelle, I’m so sorry, please talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.” I say nothing, just press myself against you keeping.