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She instructed me to dress in my sexiest, clingy dress with an open collared shirt unbuttoned more than normal with my ankle strap, whore heels. She said I looked very sexy and chose the cologne for me to wear. She really wanted me to look good for some reason tonight. She then started getting dressed with black hose, high heels, and a tight skirt with a slit open all the way to her waist. She had no top on, but carried a sport coat over shoulder. When I asked her what top she was going to. All I could do was laugh at their feeble attempts. I finally found the tuxedo place and stood in line behind about six other guys. I never figured that the tuxedo industry was having such a boom. I thought that I would be able to walk in, give them the style number, my measurements and be out in time for a few beers in the pub while I waited for Kim. When it was my turn, a good looking guy of about twenty five or so looked at me, then at his watch and then back at me. He told me that he should. Soon he is nipping my body and leaving bite marks as he works his way down. When he reaches my hip bones I scream and that’s when he gags me with my shirt. “Can’t have you screaming like that, as much as I enjoy it, it will have to wait for another time,” he tells me. Then he is in between my legs his finger pull apart my pussy lips and he moves his mouth in between. He then grips my hips firmly to keep me in places as his tongue moves a slow figure-eight over my clitoris. He picks up the. Then I saw her face and the woman was me. I was happy and that happiness flooded my whole being. The last thing I remembered before falling into a deep sleep was Petra and I cuddling Gert between us in a naked embrace. When I woke a few hours later, Petra and Gert were still asleep. Sexual guilt attacked my conscience with the ferocity of the Inquisition. I wanted to jump into a burning stake to cleanse me of my sins. Then I remembered one of my favourite quotes: “When a woman doesn’t connect.
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