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Blowing gently in the breeze or placed on top of the clothes basket and sprawled on the bed ready to be put away. Better yet, all placed in neat stacks in the dresser drawers. Panty hose, underwear, dress slips, and especially bras. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE BRAS! ( . Y . ) They are a very unique garment specific to women. I love the shape of under garments, the colors, the sheen of the silk and satin, the lacy delicacy of the fabric, the sheerness of hosiery. It collectively attracted me and still does to this day. Even when walking through department stores while shopping, the under garments and lingerie departments were almost over whelming and attracting me...calling me. And why wouldn't they be? My t-shirts and underwear were white, dull and boring. I longed for more. Much more. And I would go to great lengths to explore my feminine side by dressing in all kinds of women's clothes. Things like a full or half slip were so nice to pose in. I remember they all had a sexy lace band along. Oh my god, he was atleast 6'10" wearing docker shorts that showed off manhood perfectly, and how perfectly huge it was. He smiled and said "hello" as I swung my leg out of the car, trying to conceal the fact that I wasn't wearing anything underneath my skimpy skirt. As my legs spread apart, he noticied my exposed clean shaven pussy. My eyes were captivated by his now throbbing cock that was enjoying the full view of my lucious inner pink lips. Leaning forward to step out of the car, both breasts toppled out as he again tried not to be too obvious in looking. Standing right before him, I teasingly lifted them towards him then replaced both breasts inside the narrow material, smiled and thanked him for his assistance. He escorted me by the arm to the door. I noticed his dark color against my lighter color and got so turned on by it. I joined my husband at the door and we entered a foyer that was dimly lit, but the music was jamming. The door man greeted us, and brought us inside the.
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“Oh uhhh nothing,” she told him. “What do you mean?” he said. “I uh, well, umm nothing,” she told him. He followed her as she walked into her kitchen. The whole place looked “different” to him. It was as if nothing existed. He was right. There was hardly anything in her place whatsoever. She tried hiding it but was unable. He saw it too. She hardly had anything in the refrigerator except for her water, wine, and some left over scraps of food. He didn’t say a word, at first. “Uhhhhhh, see this?” she said and he looked. He saw it. “I’ve got nothing to eat?” She went silent and he suggested ordering out. She knew she was broke so he offered to pay anyway but then he suggested he cook a meal with what leftovers she had. She watched him prepare the leftovers. She was amazed at how he was able to reheat and redo what was left over from what was in her fridge. It was as if he was a genius of sorts. It turned her on. She couldn’t ever do that, she told herself. She watched closely as he made.

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