The feeling was wonderful, the pressure on her labia and clitoris strong, and rhythmic, and intense. Chloe's cunt was now very wet, and she hopped it ...wouldn't soak through to her jeans. She squeezed her legs harder, and rubbed her flexing thighs together as she felt the tingly feeling of an orgasm building inside her. It was deep, hard, almost sharp, and she knew it would be an amazing climax. She now was bouncing her upper leg on top of the other slightly, almost furiously tapping at the air. This required contacting a dressmaker from out of town. A lady by the name of Mrs. Jones helped her out. She agreed to do the work. With that note two large boxes arrived at Mrs. Jones house. One of the boxes contained the baby clothes that Jenny had bought and the other contained the life size model. With these Mrs. Jones could complete her task. It took Mrs. Jones around 6 months to complete all the outfits. Each one was created with great love and care. This was what made Mrs. Jones the best. She kept her eyes studiously directed to her plate, pretending she was paying more attention to her food than to the conversation between father and son. Luke's heavy-handed compliment had set her heart beating like a bass drum. She knew she was blushing, and she hated herself for it. She did not usually blush. That Luke did something to her that she did not like made her feel small and vulnerable. Both his size and the force of his personality threatened to overwhelm her.The defensive feeling. Their ice-blue, reflective eyes tracked him with feline pupils, their ears swiveling and twitching. Should he try to communicate with them? Their language was almost unrecognizable as speech, maybe their vocal cords couldn’t even pronounce English words.“Hello,” he said, waiting for some kind of response. “My name is Schaffer,” he added as he tapped his chest with a gloved finger. “Schaffer.”The aliens looked puzzled, mumbling to each other in a tongue that sounded like a slow-motion cat fight..