She liked to take pictures of me, and for me to photograph her. Of course, she liked to post those on different voyeur sites, but she had even more fu... when we would just leave copies out, dropped in public for anyone to find. She liked to leave them in public spaces where we could stay nearby but blend in and not be noticed as we waited to see who would discover them. My favorite set of pictures of my own dick, if I have a favorite set—which I suppose I do, although I’ve never needed to rank. As it was evening, we were clothed, but only just. I had on a tee shirt, no bra, short shorts and very wet panties. Bob walked over to me and told me to lift my arms so he could take off my tee shirt, and then sinking to his knees he pulled down my shorts and panties, breathing in the strong smell of my sex. Being an equal-opportunities lover, I did the same to him, thrilling to the sight of his ample cock as it sprang from his shorts. Seeing a man aroused simply by being with me is such a. She knew that in certain circumstances the split in her dress would expose the tiny strip of black lace that held her panties in place. For example, if she were to sit in a quiet part of the bar with Jean later, for a nightcap. Her pert breasts were corralled in a tiny black bra. Also under her dress were charcoal thigh-high stay-up stockings. Em didn’t like suspender belts. They got in the way. When Em thought about how suspender belts got in the way and how a hint of a tiny little string. ”“That’s okay. I’ll drink it out of the can,” Terry said.Dan sat down in the chair and popped the top on his can of root beer. He said, “I’ve got a special project I’d like you to devote a hundred percent of your time on.”“What?” Terry asked thinking that this was the end of her dream for Parker’s Perfect Pizza. She opened her can of root beer and took a sip.“Well, I want to change jobs. I’d like to be the guy at the top. I’d like to be making the major decisions, but I don’t want to deal with.