She was a sight with her red lacy underwear, left breast cupped out of the bra and the black fishnet hosiery. The high heels gave her the allure of an...elegant prostitute. Mr F. made her sit on the table, directly facing the mirror, and pushed her legs apart. The high heels were shaken off, his tie was undone and the shirt was removed. He began by spreading whipped cream, their dessert, on her breasts. “How do you feel like with dessert on your tits?” he asked. She looked at herself in the. She had reasonable skin, though her legs were a bit saggy and her tummy had gone to seed."Sorry I didn't realise up you were undressed still" I blatantly lied."Don't worry" she said, fastening the bra and pulling the shoulder straps into place, "I don't have a body to cause to much disturbance to anybody nowadays"!"What do you mean by that"? I asked."Well, I'm not proud of my body anymore" she said "it's a long time since anybody's seen it" Have you any idea how it makes me feel seeing you. More

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