I have a hairstylist that has done my hair since I first started med school. She keeps my hair to my liking. I’ve gone from the dirty blonde hair co...or to a more sophisticated gray/platinum blonde highlights look. When I go out dressed like a young woman, almost nobody can tell if I’m a man. I say mostly because there is one group of people that almost always figures it out.They are almost always married, men in their thirties to mid-forties, pigs...I can't tell you how many times those. " "Sure, I can do that,” she laughed. Then, when she sat back down in her car and started fishing around in her purse, I stared at her long bare legs. Bev was a knock out but damn, this lady was stunning, a real babe. Bev was the kind of girl that you married, but this lady was the kind you wrapped around you like a bandage and had as many ways as possible, all at once. Standing up again, she waved her phone at me. "I called the best company I know of. They should be here in about forty-five. She saw him glance down at her perfectly rounded breasts briefly and then look up at her face expectantly as he waited for her lead. “Craig, there will be the usual duties that you’ll need to attend to, such as those that we spoke about during the interview process. There will also be a few other things that are assigned which will be key duties of your position. Duties that I hope you will enjoy.” He arm rested on the back of the love seat as she leaned towards Craig. Her hand brushed his. However, after about ten minutes of watching, it starts to turn into a violent porn show, the male ramming his pole into the willing girls cunt over and over. Somehow, I fall asleep in the middle of the action. Mason wakes me up by nudging me and asking if I could bend over and retrieve his Playboy, which must have dropped while I was sleeping. I agreed, and stood, bending over. It was only after that I realized I was wearing a skimpy thong and a short skirt. When I straightened up, I noticed.