I couldn't believe it. I mean mine was a good seventeen years old. There was a note with the prettiest handwriting. Guitar ManI am so very sorry for t...he accident and I wanted to make it up to you.I spent yesterday going to retro stores until I found you a new shirt.I hope you like it.Amber Amber, pretty name I though. Not sure why I didn't ask during the encounter. Then again, I wasn't thinking too straight. I looked up from the note to connect with those beautiful eyes again. She was standing. In collage I meet my wife and informed her of my fetish for female clothes before the relationship became to serious. The acceptance she gave me was surprising and very amazing to me. After I told her we would often go shopping for clothes and make-up. When we graduated from collage we married and like any other professional couple bought a home in the burbs. With my wife's constant help I perfected my female look to the level that I could go out dressed and fool most people in public. My wife. Don’t worry. Go. But come back anytime. Come back and eat my wife again anytime you wish. Maybe I can fuck you. We’ll be here all week. What’s your name?”“Janielle,” she said. “So sorry!” Then she quickly darted out of the room.“So this is her,” the young man said, looking down at me as Chet put out the “Do Not Disturb” sign and locked our door.“Yes. This is Dana. Dana, meet Terry,” Chet said. “Didn’t I tell you she was a hot slut?”“Yes, you did, but I thought you were kidding. She’s 52 years. I gave it to her exclusively in the ass, readying her for our fantasy. She would kneel, then lower her chest to the floor or mattress and reach back to pull her cheeks apart, exposing her tiny anal ring and hungry cunt. I poured a month's worth of pent-up lust deep into her asshole, as many times a day as I could keep myself going for.Every assfucking ramped up her arousal and frustration, and even the first one had her pushing her hips back, desperate for as much cock as I could give, even.