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Trust
Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Shemales, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster
swirl, and to listen to the sounds of the heels. "It's nice," I finally managed. It was a good fit, too. "Nice?" she asked, pouting. "It's *perfect.* You look adorable! Turn around, I want to look at your bottom some more." I turned, and wiggled at her. Lightening the situation, you understand. "It goes better with your jacket than these pants do," she said. Then, "Here, try this one, too." A gray skirt, slightly shorter, with pleats. Sort of purplish, under the gray. My jacket was an expensive camels' hair thing, that I'd bought when I got my appointment. This time, when I pulled the skirt on, she frowned. "It is sort of hideous with this jacket, isn't it?" I commented. Strange to see two grays clash. They did, though. My taste was improving. "That's *awful,"* she said. "And it isn't even the right size." She frowned, but the grin kept slipping through. I recognized it. She was about to spring something on me. "And it was on sale, too. I'll have to exchange it today. Do you want to come with me?" "You set this up!" I accused her. "And no, I don't. You'll ask me if I want to try it on, like last time." We'd gone shopping once, and ended up having a terrible fight, because she insisted on holding things up to measure against me, and then had even asked me if I wanted to try one on! Loud enough for the cashier to hear, I was sure. I'd been so angry that I'd caught a bus home. Fortunately, ... according to the rules she had set up, she agreed that I didn't have to go trying dresses on in stores in order to see her again. It took some fast talking, though. That was at the beginning of March. "All right, then," she said, with a big smile. "But I'll need either your jacket or your pants to match colors with." I stamped my foot in anger. Looked down in confusion. I hadn't quite expected to make a womanish sound. In fact, I'd picked up that habit, of stamping my feet, putting my hands on my hips, and glaring, at Nancy's house. She chuckled. "You *know* I can't give you my jacket," I complained. She nodded, her eyes dancing. I suppose I should explain that. On what would have been our first anniversary, if we hadn't broken up -- Valentine's Day, that is -- we'd given each other remarkably similar presents. Well, she knew me pretty well, so she probably knew what I was going to give her. Flowers, candy, and sexy lingerie. In this case, a bra-panties-garterbelt set (in red and black, to match the dress she'd worn for The pizza, which I desperately wanted to see her in again). Maybe it was telepathy, since I could equally well have bought her a negligeee, or something, but she gave me a matching set -- same cut and everything, from the same store, only mine were pink and white. So we'd smelled the flowers, and then we made a romantic little arrangement with them both in the same vase, intertwined with one another, and stolen candy, giggling, from one ...