The paranoia wears off by the time we are at the bar and a weird sensation of relief starts to blow over me. I walk to the table and can feel every li...tle movement of the lace against my skin. I feel immense. My cock is engorged but not enough to show. Just enough to make me feel so very horny. I sit down with Emmy and we start to chat about anything but her now Ex- Boyfriend. I struggle to concentrate as I start relishing my new confidence in wearing lace. In my mind my jeans have disappeared. But not for her: she knew her days were numbered and hope was not a luxury she allowed herself anymore. When dusk fell, she went to the back room where she and the man had made love. Or, to be totally honest, fucked. She could smell the scent of their mingled sex and see stains on the magazines. A tear escaped her eye but she shook off the feelings of emptiness welling up inside. Time to get home and sleep. Home? What a funny concept these days. Hers was more a shack, but it had one room with. More

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