My stockings, sheer black nylons with a seam, I rolled up my shaven legs and clipped them onto my garters. Slipping my feet into my black patent pumps... I stood up and thought I looked good in the mirror. Now was the moment. I help open my black dress, stepped in, settled it around my shoulders, and admired myself in the looking glass. This was a new dress that Chantal had bought me after I came home from the hospital, not form-fitting, but loose. Since my illness I could no longer wear my. I turned back toward the door, and as I pushed it open, I automatically reached into my pocket for my car keys.It took nearly a second for my brain to realize that something was wrong. The sensation in my pocket didn't seem at all familiar. I paused, and let my hand push my pocket toward my 'Johnson'; perhaps it was snagged in my shorts again. A quick shuffle would straighten it all out.You can imagine the sensation of utter horror when my hand touched - nothing! In actuality, it touched. More

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