Then, I saw her walk out of the store with a bag in her hand, as she came up to me she said. “I like Italian food.”I asked her to follow me in her... car to a local restaurant. I chose one close to a hotel.Now, I’m not a big fan of Italian fare, but I was that day. I had a light lunch while she feasted on some shrimp pasta dish. She had two glasses of wine to my one and genuinely seemed to be enjoying herself. We talked about our jobs and trivial every day stuff.As we left the restaurant I pointed. Everyone told Grace howbeautiful she looked and told me how lucky I was, all the while checkingout my outfit while attempting to not stare. I was in a continual state ofembarrassment as I stood beside Grace, her towering over me, despite mewearing heels myself.The worst part was when her boss, Rex Rawls, joined the party. He gaveGrace a very, very warm hug, rubbing her bare shoulders as he told hercongratulations and how sad he was that she was "going off the market," asif she were a piece of. ”“Yeah. You disguise your sex workers there.”I shrugged. “People know them. They do wear uniforms.”“So, what do you think of Ozzie strippers?”“Different tastes for different cultures.”“Like how?”“Well, I’ve been to Tokyo. They have a class of people that could probably make you soil your pants without taking off a single item of clothing.” I was thinking about my soku, of course.“Right. They’re nude to start with!”“No,” I said, shaking my head. “They just ooze sensuality. At home, there are. The thought of her fingering her pussy always made my young cock rock hard. I desperately wanted to see her doing that and I noticed that just being close to her in the house made my dick jerk up hard in my pants. A couple of times, I saw her in her bathrobe, the terry cloth riding up on her thighs and had to go back into my bedroom and jerk off.Then I would see her in the kitchen wearing shorts, her trim legs and buttocks tightening as she bent over. The way the material stretched across her.