If I put them on the table and my husband or son walk in how on earth will I explain it.”“The risk is the fun Mary”, Anne said gently, “Now pu... them on the table for me.”I was under Anne’s spell and beginning to feel the thrill of the situation. I threw my panties onto the table and waited for Anne to speak.“Now Mary, I want you to move to your sink, lean over it with your bottom facing your kitchen door and pull your robe up around your waist.” She said, “when you are in position tell me.”“I. And thanks to her ex husband's constant berating her and the countless failed relationships she had had since, deep in the recesses of her mind that usually stayed hidden she felt she had no real value. To him or anyone else really. Her cheeks went cold and her pulse quickened. Surely he wouldn't reject her. "Oh please not another fucking rejection!" she thought quickly. She was offering herself to him sight unseen, exposing the most vulnerable, most hidden side of her being. She didn't know. We watched for a few minutes until the concertmaster came out for the final tuning, followed a minute later by the conductor.My penis was incredibly hard in anticipation of what Becka had in store for me during the symphony. I didn't have long to wait.She had encircled my waist with those warm and lovely arms and had put her hands just above the tip of my hardened penis. I could feel the warmth and pressure of her fingertips through the fabric front of my shorts.The music started and we swayed. SHE was 13 when we went home. How we spent the remainder of the day depended upon the messages. Many of her past "boyfriends" knew where she lived, and would often come to visit her. If that was the case, she would go take a shower, and "dress" for her visitor.I would go in and watch TV, and watch her prepare for her guest. After taking a shower, she would trim, or re shave her pussy, and put on her make-up, and I would put powder on her. Then she would put on a totally sheer baby doll nightie..