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It slithered to a silken heap at her feet.Eloise stood naked before me, her moist, pale pink, fleshy-lipped madge open and inviting, begging to be filled. My eyes travelled up from the triangle of soft, curly madge hair, over her smooth, rounded belly, her trim waist, and then on to those magnificent up-thrust breasts tipped with red cones of succulence, all soon to be garnered in a sweaty harvest. Eloise’s creamy, toned, unblemished skin glowed in the candle light, perfect as the Garden of. Over beside the wall on the left there was a single bed, and on the wall above the bed there was a shelve which had various wigs and leather hoods. Opposite the door and also immediately to the right of the door were some free-standing wardrobes, while in the middle of the room, just right of the door were a couple of clothes racks full of woman's clothing. The scene reminded me of an early visit to a Mistress who specialized in cross-dressing, forced feminization, and I was rather disappointed. Pilar: “Who would you do if ... you know?”Vanessa: “If I fucked guys?”Pilar nodded.“And if I weren’t married?”“Of course.”“Christopher Walken, no question.”“Really? Why? Why him?”“Attitude. And the way he moves. He’s a professionally trained dancer. Check out his YouTube videos. Talented as hell. Sexy.”“I would never have guessed.”“And those hooded eyes. There’s that sense of suppressed menace when Walken enters a room. Like Joe Pesci.”“Except taller.”“Except taller.”I said to Walker, “Hand me. ” I put on a pair of gloves, put the tube up to the tip of her penis, watching it grow. Just the thought, the anticipation, of what was coming had the little nub taking the form of a perfect uncooked Oscar Mayer wiener. Not bun length. Shorter than that. The ones with ten in the pack. The head fit into the tube making this even easier. I put one dollop of Surgilube on her thigh, then another one next to it, scooped up one of the dollops onto my middle finger and used my elbow to pry her knees.
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