She is a bombshell; I bet any man will turn around when they pass her on the street. I know this now since that man we just passed did that. I don’t...blame him, and in this tight red dress of hers – I think I might have to hire someone to watch over us tonight.The part of the store with women’s clothing is enormous. All the luxury brands are there, even an inhouse tailor if you need refitting done instantly. I know what I am looking for, what type of dress I see when I close my eyes. We walk. " You're right! I'm going to have to get the name of that shampoo, later. It's almost addictive. As I pull away, my nose just wants to return. OK, let's force ourselves to continue. Look at her shoulders. See how defined her muscles are, not like a body builder, as these are lean and functional, not bulky and showy, more like the muscles of a dancer, long, beautiful, flowing lines." I think I get more out of massaging her shoulders than she does, for exploring how her muscles bring her all. He continued his pattern of smacking my ass and it was actually starting to hurt. my little cries and whimpers echoing through the room now along with the echoes of his hand hitting the flesh on my ass. i started kicking my legs up and wiggling my ass subconsciously trying to avoid the next strike but his opposite arm had me pinned down. i couldnt move and had to take every hit. every smack getting harder... and harder... and harder! hurting more and more and more!my ass, which im sure was. Feeling so emasculated, feminized, yetfree.You hang up the cell. You see the number of the call, it was fromyou...but that's not you anymore, is it? You glance into the mirror onthe sun-visor....can you really do this? Really meet a man for lunch?What if he finds out you are a guy? What if he tries to kiss you? Thatthought gives you great fear, as you know you're not gay, but somethingabout being in this role, being her is driving you......and the thoughtof wearing that skirt suit, walking in.