”“Holy fuck!” I thought to myself, I thought she had caught me. She was just moaning for me. She wanted to fuck me, she was imaginin... me fucking her.“You want Anthony to fuck you?” I ask.She hesitates again opening her eyes as she looks up at my mask.“Yes I want him to fuck me, just like this.”“Good, imagine him fucking you like this.”This made me more forceful, I wanted to make her cum. I wanted my own mother to cum while she imagined. She knew what I was doing was cheesecake plain and simple. Like when she was 19. She knew a lot of boys and men looked at her in a special way-more than special. I kept thinking how many different photographers must have leered at her asking her to turn, bend and pose in ways that would never become a public photo. And how many boners did she see per show? I began to think nervously. Grandma knew every hot-blooded male audience member that looked at her poster -once inside the auditorium would. There was no question that someone could see the pink in thepolish, but I figured that I would just go to work a bit early, getsuited up on my own, and then no one would be the wiser.That night on my way home I rolled the window down, turned up thestereo, and drove around for a while before heading home. My hair wasblowing in the wind, and I stared at my pretty pink fingernails as theygripped the steering wheel. I fantasized about being completelydressed as a woman and driving around,. ’ ‘Yes, thank you Max. And in this environment, please call me Ken.’ Max blushed, and as she headed into the kitchen, she replied, ‘Yes… Ken, of course. How silly of me. I guess I’m not fully awake.’ Shortly, Max returned with two glasses of wine. She again left, quickly returning with her own glass and two large boxes and a smaller one. Without apparent regard to exposing herself, Max sat on the ottoman facing Denise’s father and took a sip of her wine, before telling everyone, ‘This year, for.
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