I think Hayden was surprised that it was my tongue that first initiated contact that night. He was a little shocked when I pulled his hand to my breas...t. I was proud of my breasts—never let it be said that I didn’t have my vanity. I’d had two children and my breasts were still high on my chest, not sagging, even if they were a little softer than they’d once been. He squeezed gently. I heard him gasp when I grasped his erection.I touched it! With my hand. I’d always—or at least usually—accepted. I chatted for hours, swapped numbers and started meeting men, mostly older, lonely men in their homes, just to chat and receive gifts, and sometimes on certain occasions, undress and get into bed with them and lie with my bum hard against them.They liked the feel of my soft skin, other times I held them between my thighs and touched them ever so lightly, as if I had one of my own, thrilled at doing it but tinged with strange but nice feeling, being able to crush a mans sex organ against your. I’ve jerked off thinking about her, of course. I suspect Kristine knew this, too. I was very much under her spell.After dinner, there were drinks in the lounge. I was talking to a couple of other colleagues when Kristine came and sat in a big leather chair just across from me. She sipped her drink and looked at me, nodded, but said nothing. Instead, she leaned back, caressed her fishnet clad thighs, and crossed her legs, and dangled her shoe from her left foot. Oh, those cute feet of hers. She. In the mailbox: boxer shorts that are too large, a cage for my cock, and a couple of nylon zip ties for my wrists. I go into the house. My chest feels tight, I'm burning up with anxiety and adrenaline. I undress, take off my slacks and boxer briefs, put on the strange boxer shorts. I take a leak and then put on the cock cage, cold steel on my tender flaccid cock, and I sit. I wait for, seemingly, hours. Finally I hear the front door and Danielle walks into the living room where I am sitting on.