My heart was pounding as I leant forwards and touched her scar through her tights. I held my hand there then ran my hand down her leg and over her kn...e and looked up at her to see how she would respond. She said nothing and lit a cigarette. I continued to stroke her leg and pulled her tights away from her skin. “They feel nice, but also very tight” I said, “Don’t they make your feet and toes feel cramped?” “Not at all” she said and with that kicked her shoe off and started wriggling and. It was just inconvenient. A big part of me, however, wassavouring the moment, being a woman and a mother next to my man. For theoccasion, Mustapha was acting in a much less authoritarian way, helping mecope with the physical and psychological aspects of this change. In hiseyes, I could see Love with a capital L. The Love of a Man who had justbecome a father and longed to live his fatherhood next to his woman. Heexpressed the same Love in the gentle kisses and the manly hugs heshowered me. You being a nasty-ass whore, who loves to dress up for us in little, skimpy, lacy outfits that allow easy, focused and attentive touches, strokes, and kisses that all become part of the whole picture; a picture of love that a man can focus on each and every day.So, some of you are probably saying; "I know! But I don't like the way I look, so dressing in skimpy, naughty attire doesn't look good on me." Or, possibly; "I am up tight. I can't do that." That is the giving part of true love. You use. " He smiled at her pout. "And these will make all the difference.” He passed her the first parcel, which she tore open like a child at Christmas. She gasped when a soft furry mask fell into her lap. It was black, the fur very sleek, with small ears and even whiskers! She giggled excitedly and put it on, loving the way it fitted snugly over her head. She jumped up and crossed to the mirror over her fireplace, grinning hugely at the kitty that looked back at her! “Oh, Sir, I LOVE it!” She went to.