I wear close fitting tops, sleeveless, as tight as I can manage without being in a size too small. I want every curve on show. I always wear black sto...kings or tights, depends on my mood. And around my ankle is my sweet sexy chain.I can more or less get a new man every night if I want, and quite often I do. I try not to keep my sexual partners for more than two or three evening’s entertainment. I like them fresh and keen.I play the boys like a great pianist plays a concert grand, and they serve. If I can't come up with one I like, thestory doesn't get started. That's when I remembered stuff I'd read aboutJ. Edgar Hoover making his FBI agents dress in drag and in one instanceallegedly forcing someone to permanently adopt a female identity. I'veno idea if there's any truth behind such claims, but for fictionalpurposes I decided to assume there was. This gave me my ending, but forHoover to appear my protagonist would need to end up in the US. Theobvious solution: Operation Paperclip. I. Who can that be? No one ever calls me at this hour. ‘Hello?’ ‘Mark, this is Monica. Is Jennifer there?’ Uh, oh! ‘She’s in the tub right now.’ ‘Well, tell her that her mom called last night, and I put her off with a story about how Jennifer might have been in the library doing homework and studying, but her mom guessed that she might be with you.’ ‘OK, I’ll tell her, but this won’t be fun.’ ‘So, how was last night?’ I could almost see Monica’s grin through the phone. ‘Monica, it was the greatest. " Colin suggested. He turned into the next available path and drove about 50 metres into the woods. They got out, and Julie looked around before slipping out of her smart but demure summer dress, her bra and pants, and stood naked before him. At 37, she was in her prime. Having two c***dren had made little difference to her gorgeous figure... just a little fuller than ten years ago, but all the better for it. Her completely shaven vulva enhanced the total picture of desirability that she made..