He smiled down at me, knowingly. "My mom, she a widow lady, has one of those massaging shower heads. I once heard her telling one of her girlfriends t...at it was better than any vibrator that she ever owned. She spends a long time in the shower too." My nipples were on fire now. I could feel them thrusting out against the thin silk and I was sure Billy Bob could see them. I could feel my pussy juices oozing from between my pussy lips to seep down my inner thighs. I though I could smell my sex. Around thehouse, I was naked and in a cock cage. When I went out, it was in skirtsand blouses. My bra would clearly show through the blouse. Going to doerrands, to shop for groceries, to go anywhere, I was a woman. Anathletic, strong German man dressed like a Parisian woman. And Paris is awalking city, so soon the grocer, baker, butcher, and fruit stand vendorceased to stare in wonder at me, and simply treat me like another womancustomer.All night Saturday I tossed and turned with wild desire.. More

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