You give your eyes another rub before swallowing and opening up your orientation guide.Oh fuck. If your head wasn't spinning before, it sure as hell w...s now. You told these people you had years of experience horseback riding? That you were deeply versed in all manner of period knowledge? That....that you won the fucking silver medal in fencing?! You moan, letting your forehead drop dramatically onto the carefully bullet-pointed list of all your outrageous lies. Maybe if you had told them you. She is tall, thin, small breasted, with dark, dark brown hair. We have a great deal in common, like our passion for Victorian architecture, but for some inexplicable reason, she has no interest in sex. There must be some repressed childhood memory or something. She just doesn't have the drive for sex like most women her age. She likes to cuddle on occasion, but that's about as close as we usually get. Sure, I get an annual birthday fuck, and when she gets drunk, she loosens up, but otherwise,. Before me on the bed were my purchases from this morning; a short white silk skirt, a very sexy peach-toned blouse, a lace demi-bra, thong bikini, garter belt and stockings. Wearing a garter belt and stockings always made me feel desirable, very available, and a thrill of excitement passed through me as I put them on. The bra... low cut, just a hint of nipple showing, low enough that it would not show above the deep V of the blouse. Almost done, just the 3" white summer pumps and I'm ready.. “I’m just fucking with ya!”“Oh. Thank god!”“Hey! Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain!”“Derrick. I…”“Still fucking with ya,” he roared.“You’re enjoying this too much!”“I can’t help it.”Then, he asked why I was in this place on a Saturday night and not out partying. I explained that as I’d gotten older I became more a homebody. He told me that people my age should still have fun. I agreed. I fretted about having no one to play with that night.Derrick said, “What? I guess I’m not here?”“What?”“You.