Jas (that was Jasmine, her mother had been a bit of a wild child in the sixties, and got into Eastern culture, you know, burning Joss sticks and hangi...g wind chimes in the house) was everything I could ask for in a wife. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but had an open happy face, a pretty girl next door look. She was slim, ash-blonde, with a figure that looked good in Jeans, or a classy dress or anything in between, but especially when she had nothing on. Jas was a twenty-four year old. By now she expected to be back home with Julee, texting Brad about the show, maybe eating ice cream and watching some TV. Definitely giving Julee that orgasm she’d teased her friend with. Hell, maybe getting one herself.She did not expect to be sitting inside a luxurious changing room, complete with those silly old mirrors with the light bulbs fitted to them, and a purse on the desk. The room had little else besides that, some cabinets, a fridge, and a couple of very, very comfy couches. No. More

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