And she wasn't shyabout her shoes either. Carol loved shoes. One of the first things shenoticed about women. She hated that women, who all had the nat...ralattributes she longed for, wasted them. Crummy, scruffy shoes, dowdyclothes, no make up, hair a mess. Mrs Verity - Tanya, she had severaltimes insisted - she wasn't like that. Carlo had met her perhaps a dozentimes now. Always immaculately turned out. Reminding him of one of thosecosmetic consultants on the counters of a big store in. “Oh, you did, huh? Well the first thing you need to do is lose that underwear…and the socks,” Christine declares, planting her hands on her hips, assuming an impatient and commanding pose. Without further prompting, both studs are soon in nothing more than their backwards baseball caps, their erect love worms pulsating and throbbing with anticipation. “You guys are definitely ready,” Christine says approvingly, grabbing the dicks of both boys to test their firmness. “Okay, let’s see if Tracey. .. when is he coming?" Oh, I don't know. Maybe he'll forget about it." She said idly as if it was of no importance one way or the other."Oh no, I don't think so. Old Eric is dependable as hell. Also he has a huge crush on you! He'll be here with bells on, I'll bet!" He went back to scanning the Wall Street Journal financial page."Oh, stop. You'll say that once too often you know ... and get caught!"He said nothing further."Or, I'll start believing it myself. Then what?"He said nothing other. The conductor checked our tickets as the bus started cruising on the highway. “What do you do? Where do you hail from? How much do you earn? How much do you spend? Are you married? Do you have a girl friend?” I was talking to the most talkative person on this planet with pleasure while admiring her beauty all through. It was still raining outside and the windows in the bus were not wind proof hence some cold air continued coming in. Almost after an hour long interviewI learn that she was.