"How, how did you know?" Was this Miss Barr as much of a magician as Michael? "1941, um, is right."The slight woman pointed at her own curiously color...ul frock. "1967. I can always read the vintage of a good dress! That one is a beauty! I know I've seen it somewhere while on a thrift shop prowl. I would have snatched it up myself if it weren't so ridiculously long. Oh, no offence."Babs smiled tentatively. "None taken. I'd like to wear yours if it weren't so ridiculously tiny."Miss Barr glared. My view is blocked with her hair flowing over my stomach and chest, but I don't mind. It's soft, almost like satin, and I twist some around my fingers, becoming enthralled by it, as she begins to lick me in eager clumsiness. "Slow down a little," I urge her, sensitive from the focus on the tip. Gripping myself, I guide it further into her mouth, and lightly, her tongue tracks down my shaft, then around before she sucks, treating me like a popsicle. Enjoying the gentler attention, I begin to. More

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