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Trust
Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Shemales, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster
palest pastel pink, with scalloping and lace. I thought about Serbian atrocities, tucked, and started to pull them on. Then I had to stop again. I think more Muslims got killed in my imagination, trying to kill a simple reflex, than have died to date in Bosnia. It was hard, which made things difficult. So to speak. My skirt no longer fit quite properly, either, I discovered. It was loose in the waist. And I was more trembly than ever. We went to find a dress, next. That was embarrassing. The saleslady, an older, matronly woman, approached as I was trying to act ladylike and experienced, and asked, "Well, what can I do for you... ladies?" With just the slightest pause. "Is there something I can show you?" Nancy giggled, and gushed, "Oh, you figured us out! My boyfriend lost a bet, so he has to be the wife for a week, and I told him that means he has to look pretty." I was gaping. Nancy *never* gushed, or acted quite this silly. "Anyway," she prattled, brushing down the back of my skirt, "I don't want to keep loaning him my clothes for a whole *week,* and anyway, they don't fit! See?" She tugged at my skirt, and I yelped and grabbed. Another giggle. "I just think it's too bad it's only a week, though," she finished, turning a wide-eyed stare on the saleslady. "He makes an awfully pretty girl, don't you think?" She gave me a sympathetic look. I finally reacted. I blushed and looked away. "Girl," the saleslady said, ...