I took this as my cue to get dressed up. I got mymakeup, shoes, lingerie, clothes and wig together in the spare room. I showeredand shaved again, and ...got dressed in my gaff, bustier, breast forms, panties, nylons, a cute burgundy stretch velvet A-line dress, and somefun ankle boots with zippers up the side and 5" heels. I went with my favoritewig, a long blond, and after a good half hour in front of the makeup mirror, Iwas ready.I took a deep breath, one last admiring look in the mirror (hey, I. "What kind of man hides inside of a God Damned machine? Your wife said you love these things. Well dumb ass, they can't protect you. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to make sure you sit your little ass down, while she talks to the woman that went up there." I listened to him ranting from my hiding place near him. He didn't know what I'd cooked up for him. Once again I'm not a violent man, but I needed to get this over with.He got in front of the machine and looked inside. He leaned. It wasn't long before I was finished with my elegant dinner.I was really getting the red-carpet service! I then gathered my purseand left for upstairs. I left the lounge and crossed the concourse ofthe elegant hotel then took my pass card and entered the privateelevator and started my ride to the twentieth floor.It was a short walk from the elevator down the spacious hall to Ms.Wentfeld's private residence. I knocked on the elegant white door andmoments later a man opened the door and greeted. Due to my limited vocabulary, I have found that to describe her fully in a method that did her appearance justice is a task simply beyond my capabilities. Judging from the way she looked, I could tell that she was from the Mediterranean area, the birthplace of many fine looking females indeed. To my reasoning, I knew a creature of such splendor belonged with a collar and leash around her neck as to allow her to be tied to a man’s bed. The woman I was currently talking with was a bore: an.