I arrived at joyces house her bags were packed in the hallway and I Loaded them into the car. Joyce always tried her best to look nice. She was 55 and...her figure was a more rounded shape. she was wearing a bright red Skirt Just above the knee.Black Tights and A White silky blouse with her ample boobs pushing through, With red High Heels to match. It was a warm evening so Joyce put her coat on the back seet.Most of the jouney is on A roads,and joyce hates motorways.About an Hour into the. . The thrill is long gone. I am left to my loneliness and the good old typing machine as a good excuse... "Come to my room after dinner, we can talk more over a drink." She said suddenly, picked her odd-fashioned skirts and floated away into the saloon, her figure moving with the natural grace of a nymph. A nymph... I shut the door and threw myself upon the bed with one last great strain. I closed my eyes and my brain whirled with exhaustion. There were two options for me: I could sleep through. More

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