My Darren would stop buttering the breakfast muffins or scrambling eggs or whatever because he would see me. His cock would get erect through his silk... boxers. Then his eyes would rove from my partly exposed breasts between the undone buttons, to the real prize, my pussy just hidden centimeters above the flaps of his shirt. Mmm flaps hiding flaps. The shirt dangling like my wet lips, poised to be lifted like my clit cowl; but now swaying with my happy movement down the stairs; fluttering high. No, another person had not entered the deserted restroom, Roy sees thelegs as he tilts his head down and is greeted, not by his paints aroundhis legs and his old friend "Mr. Johnson," but a slim pair of smoothlegs which rise out of a pair of blue silk covered high heel shoes thatseem to have some sort of fancy gold flowers sawn into them. Legs thatlead to a part of the human body that, while he had admired examples of,he certainly had never possessed one himself. What I'm saying is Roy hasa. More

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