By contrast, and much shorter, was Miss Gilda, as we called her. My wife was very tall, towering over me at about six feet, like some amazonian caught... as a prize in war. But Miss Gilda was short, and stocky. Her breasts were large, proportionate to her frame, and her hair was a tangled mess of orange-red that dangled down to her buttocks. Staring at it, as I perhaps too often did, reminded me of an old print I once saw, by a surrealist. It was supposed to be a copy of Vermeer’s Lacemaker, but. I pulled up my thong bikini, that's all I ever wear, I love my body, and I love showing it off, and I answered the door, it was Jim looking for dad, he was in the neighborhood, and decided to drop by. I told him dad was on vacation.Jim was and still is a damn fine looking guy, whenever my dad and mom have parties, he would always show up with a different stunning looking woman, they were so exotic. He is about 6-3 200 pounds of pure muscle, he looks a little like Tom Selleck, only better. You really canʼt feel...” he started.
“Nothing, so whatever you want, any way you want.”
 Lynette maneuvered the wheelchair into the living room. She and Don had bought the house four years ago right after the accident which had left her paralyzed from the waist down. He had spent almost a year in making it handicap accessible and remodeling furniture, counters, etc to her height. Then two years ago the recession hit and Don was thrown out of work. The mortgage payments were strapping them,. The pleasure building again, her breasts loving being treated this way, your pussy so hot, so wet, then he stopped again.He placed the blindfold over her eyes, " don't turn until I tell you, then you must do what you have practised", she waited, heard noises, tried to make them out, her senses so alive. The more time is waited, the more exposed she felt. " now" finally the instruction came, so soon as she was on her knees, she felt his hands grip her head on either side, gently but firmly,.