What would I wear?" Belinda gasped for to be invited to a party was also an alien adventure. Her friend smiled and suggested that she examine her ward...obe."There is nothing wrong with your wardrobe Belinda", her friend said. "You have some very nice and seductive clothing, now this would be perfect. Take my advice and remove your bra for this is backless and a bra would spoil its design. What sort of panties do you have?" she asked as she laid the chosen garment on the bed. Belinda produced an. She didn’t even know how she found her voice to protest after hearing her husband say something so demeaning. “I will no-ah!-“he twisted her nipple in his fingers with a grin.“Also, since you’ve seemed to have forgotten them already, I want you to recite the vows you made to me before god while you have your tits through these bars.”She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Who was this man? Who did she marry? “And don’t look at me like that. I’m not asking you to murder anyone. I’m asking. Encouraging me in my decision. She revives me then wears me down, to revive me again. America's Sweetheart no more, she was my life and inspiration. And she was riding me, pleasuring herself and coaxing me to an explosive orgasm. The kind you feel right to your toes. Tension then beautiful release. Then she lay on me. Holding me between her legs. We had enough. Sandy, with Helen's advice had invested some of Cindy's earnings. Wisely. She had regular checks from her TV shows. I had. We didn't have that for a couple of reasons. First, we were separated geographically by some enormous distances. It was at least 1,000 miles from my home town to Minneapolis, and even farther to Portland. Second, if it was to get laid, we could go back to the party and get nailed three times before lunch. So instead we relaxed, got the party out of our heads, and did what girls have done from time immemorial: we talked. We talked of friends, boys, girls, our families, and things that were going.