But how do I know she is married? And how do I know she has a sister?I've only seen flashes of her skin under her dress or from her blouse ripping sud...denly open, yet I know exactly what every inch of skin looks like. I’m not just talking about her face or her breasts. I can visualize her hard, dark nipples, her slender neck, the butterfly of her shoulder blades. I know where her freckles are. I’ve seen her birthmarks. I’m obsessed with the vividly colored tattoos peeking out beneath her. I could see the problem right away. She'd obviously got her knickers caught in the dead branches as she'd pulled them down rapidly and the elastic had entangled them. I could also see her glistening mound pouting down from between her arse cheeks. When I tried to move the branch it dug into her again causing another yelp. “It's no good, you'll have to loose the knickers,” I said. She then giggled and looked at me over her shoulder. “Smooth talker!” “Nothing else for it,” I replied also. I went to the drug store and bought matchingbronze lipstick and copper roof eye shadow. I was determined andfocused like I had never been before to be the girl of my own dreams.I spent all day getting ready for the big evening, shaving my legs andarm pits, plucking my eyebrows, doing my toenails and finger nails, adeep mauve colour that was perfect. I had brushed my wig to a shinethen fastened it snug to my own hair so it wouldn't fall off easily. Iparted it to the side with the bangs hanging a. He seems overawed.Joy helps him along, telling him to get his kit off right this minute. He sheepishly pulls of his pants to reveal a major shock. His body may have been that of a boy, but his manhood was another matter. I look on in jealousy as his monster cock loomed into view, thick and veiny with a deep crimson head. It was thicker than his arm, which having seen his arm wasn’t saying much admittedly, but it must have been nine inches long. It was Joy’s turn to gasp.“Oooh wow, look at the.