Walking from the door to the table, I watched admiring the movement of the thin materials of your dress, the hem sliding on your legs at knee length, ...cross the nylon material of....was it stockings or tights? I hoped so much it was the former...the neck line of the dress dropping in a v-shaped to show just enough cleavage to give a sense of demure sexuality, though the buttons running down from the neckline offering the opportunity of further exposure of full breasts....my mind already. She got addicted to d**gs while I was deployed in the military. I refused to pay for her d**gs. So she started going over the the bikers that got he hooked and would fuck enough of them to get what she needed. Later she realized that wasn't the best way to do it. So she took to the street. She was able to make a go of it, for a couple reasons. First the bikers ran crime in our town, so she as long as she was buying her d**gs from them, no pimp could get away with giving her a hard time. . More

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