Mrs Passendale had decided to tart herself up for the momentous occasion, by stacking her handsome crown of hair in a pile high like a disorderly Mada...e Pompadour wig, fixed in place by a series of thick wooden pins. It did look impressively elegant.She took two phone calls while I carried my stuff upstairs to the ‘studio’ as she gigglingly called it. I set it up and decided where she would pose until she joined me, pointedly locking the door. It had a Yale and mortice lock so we – she, were. Soon he was as deep as his finger could go and started pumping it in and back. It felt strange, but as I relaxed, it also felt good. Soon, I felt his other finger join it, then the third. As I got in to the feelings, I noticed I was getting hard again. As before I lost track of time, as he worked his fingers in my hole. Then, with a pop, he pulled them out and wiped his fingers off. Next I felt him spread my ass cheeks and the head of his cock pushing against my wet hole. “Relax sissy, you’ll. More

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