She was wearing a red satin dress that hugged her hips and overlapped at the legs like a robe. The neckline showcased her very ample bosom.She blushed...when she saw my expression. "Wow," I said. "That's a nice dress, Mom." Is it too much?" She asked as she turned around. On her back, above her ass, the dress had a red satin bow. "No, no. You said it was formal." I tried to calm her. "I think you're fine. I mean, you look great." Thanks," she said as she sat down on the bed with her hose in her. Being raised by the monks had an advantage: I attended their monasticschool, the only institution of this kind still functioning in our world.I knew, from attending the history classes, about the old glorious daysof mankind, when those cities were full of people and the road was fullof automobiles, mythic machines able to travel enormous distances inshort times. All this collapsed about 200 years ago, by a combination ofeconomic crisis, climatic changes caused by the lack of. He had given her a morning wake-up treat in bed and was now recharging at the power point in the bathroom. She watched her left hand trace a sexy, lazy way down from her right nipple past her belly button and into her newly hairless slit. She saw two of her fingers slide into her vagina. “Well,” she thought, “I could just please myself.” She wasn’t in the mood for more self-stimulation that night, however. Yet on a whim she thought that perhaps she could get an out call massage. She could. His wife was pregnant! Amazing. Fantastic---even if he, himself, was not the father! The fact that he was not the father of the baby that was now growing inside Mara's womb did not disturb or anger him in the least. After all, they had both deliberately chosen not to have a baby together, but to have some other man do the honors; and it had been Mara who had wanted it to be by not just any black man, but an AFRICAN man in particular; and Omar had been the perfect choice!As Tomas lay next to.