I suggested that we should take it beyond simply talking about sex. I told Amber and Crystal that whoever had the best fantasy would have to agree to ...o more than just tell us about it. Each of us had to agree that we would vote for the best fantasy, and that the winner would have to actually make their fantasy come true. The two young girls eagerly agreed. This would be a contest; after telling our fantasies, we would vote. The winner had to promise to act out their fantasy, make it happen,. As for myself, I returned the entirety when I stood in the bathroom in just my boxers. Maureen practiced her dancing in our basement and I began to find excuses to go and “work” in the basement. Then one day I was watching her “practice” and she began dancing like a pole dancer in a strip club using the basement support beam as her “pole”. The difference was that this girl was a professional dancer and was soon making unbelievable moves around that pole. She might as well have been fucking. "You have such gorgeous legs," Laura said, matter-of-factly, knowing no other way to escape than plunge forward. "Why do you wear long skirts?"Yvette smiled mysteriously. "Haven't you ever heard that blacks have to try twice as hard to get half as far?" I guess I have heard that," Laura said softly."I dress as conservatively as I can," Yvette said. "I want them to pay attention to what I do, not to my legs." Makes sense," Laura said. "You'd probably cause a few traffic accidents with those.". Black hair was trimmed tightly around her head, in a most flattering way. She was, I guessed, almost 30. It was 1970, when short miniskirts were accepted office wear, and hot pants were starting to challenge them. It was also in the middle of the Sexual Revolution.I had gotten to know her, in part because she was nice enough to offer me rides at the end of the day, saving me from the bus. She told me that her husband, Alan, was an Army officer deployed in the field. They were absolutely.