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Kev couldn’t be under any illusion to who I was really devoted to. ‘I really couldn’t give a silent fart for you,’ I winked at Kev, before bobbing my head on Boston’s hard prick. ‘Nothing gives me greater pleasure than being dressed in a leotard and tights for older men and doing nasty things with them.’ I pulled the waistband to his tights down and swallowed his hard naked prick. I felt my cheeks bulging as I noisily sucked, making ‘om om’ sounds.I still recalled the quiet, sultry evenings after work, with no other sound but the office clock ticking, having told Kev I was working late. How I would hang up the phone, smile secretly, smooth my expensive, immaculate black tights over my legs, step into some heels and a high-waist short skirt and put makeup on. I’ve always enjoyed the anticipation of dressing this way for another man, especially when cheating. I’d smile as I dropped a wig on my head and carefully stepped over to Boston, tell him how I loved him and we’d kiss long, deep. In a moment the lights in the living room went on, and I watched Barbara lead her friend, or her sex project, I didn’t know which, to the sofa. He pulled off his jacket and began fussing with the fireplace. By the time Barbara came in from the kitchen carrying a couple of cocktail glasses, the fire must have started, because he moved back to the sofa. I couldn’t be sure since the fireplace was on the wall the window I was looking in was located. The red flickering glow from the fire confirmed I was right. He sat on the sofa while she adjusted the lighting: a low wattage table lamp went on, the bright recessed living room lights were turned off. Plenty of light, though, my dilated pupils demonstrated: I could see him clearly sitting there, and Barbara sat down beside him, raising her glass in a toast. In a moment the glasses were put on the coffee table, and Walter extended his arm along the sofa’s back, behind her, inviting her. She moved closer, placing her head on his shoulder,.
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