Oh, how I dread that stifling environment. Perhaps I should have one last fling. I head to my bedroom and remove all my day-clothes. My boring jeans a...d T-shirt. My Nike sneakers. My cotton undergarments. Even my ponytail holder. I stand naked, looking at myself in the mirror as I brush my long brown hair. I peek into my closet, looking for the just the right clothing for such an event. I put on a matching red lace bra and G-string set, so I can feel extra sexy. A cute girlish lavender top that. I about ran inside to the bathroom. As soon as I closed the door my pants and panties were down by my ankles, I sat down on the toilet, leaned back, and my fingers began to caress my clit. "Mmm." I moaned quietly. It felt so good to touch myself after an hour of fantasizing. I licked my fingers, and started swirling them around my clit, my pussy got wetter, and wetter. I licked my fingers again, and slowly slipped two fingers in my dripping pussy. I moaned a little louder, not caring if someone. “That was easy. Turning off your mask on the other hand...” She opened her hand, to show a little black box with a few dials and a red button on it, and a wire hanging out of the side. “I couldn’t manage it with your usual mask; I needed one that I could tinker with, so I had to send you an old model, pretending to be an upgrade. Then the switch didn’t work at first – I thought you hadn’t fallen for it...”“Wait!” I blinked a few times, remembering changing masks the previous day. Or maybe a few. After a few years of the London scene I moved to the midlands where I joined the Beaumont Society and made many friends and exchanged stories as some weekends away.Shortly after moving to a midland town and living in a drab apartment for a few months I decided to look for something better and so answered an advert for a room in the local paper. When I called up it was a girl and I told her I was interested in the room. I did not expect her to want a male but she told me to come around that.