“Go get me a new shirt from… Oh never mind. I’ll do it myself.” Tiffany brushed past a startled Amber, elbowing her in the side as she yanked ...pen the door. Any sympathy Paris was feeling evaporated; the girl truly was a bitch. Paris rested her forehead against the stall door trying to calm down, her breath hitched unexpectedly as her pussy twitched with need. Placing a fingertip gently against her slit she traced the damp denim enclosing her throbbing sex, slowly easing her need with a gentle. I picked up the dress. It was light and smooth, as erotic as anightgown, as cool as an ice cream. I held it up against me. I feltflush. I closed my eyes.What was it about this article of clothing that affected me like this?Even the thought of it hypnotized me. I didn't know why. I had never hada maid as a kid. I never had a girlfriend dress as one. There had beenno erotic link hiding in my mind. But I couldn't deny that the dress wasmagnetic, the cloth and what it represented. I could imagine. "Do you still need to piss?" Yes, sir!" Then do so. Now!"She looked distressed, but strained a little, and a small trickle of golden liquid dripped from the lips of her cunt. Once the flow began, however, she apparently couldn't hold it back, and let loose a stream that would have done a racehorse proud. A faraway look came into her eyes as relief washed over her face.Once the flow stopped, I gave the boys a hand signal and they eagerly lapped up the last drops, digging their tongues deep. " She told him the story about that night in the Century Store. He would listen to the person who seemed to be his daughter while giving me these searching looks. I concentrated on what Mom was telling him. Mom looked at me and said, "Jenn, would you step into the kitchen for a while. I have to convince your Daddy that I am his wife." I left, but kept the door cracked open to I could watch and hear as much as I could. Dad's eyes had followed me and his confused look was making me a bit.
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