Even a skirt could be worn my men as a kilt but not a bra. Hooking theclasp together at his front he swivelled it around his chest then pushedhis arms...through the shoulder straps. He inserted the life-like breastforms into the under wired cups and adjusted the flesh-like mammaries sothat the nipples stood proud in the centre of each lace cup.Sitting before his wife's dressing table mirror he skilfully applied someof her make-up to his eyes and lips. He was limited in what he could useas his. Now, your cunt, this is a work of upmost artistry,” he said, stepping between my legs.I smiled as he leaned down and kissed the stitch-work that had closed my clit-hole. My toes curled from the gentleness of his kiss.“I will do everything I can to preserve this,” he promised.“Thank you.“Relax…I’m going to spend some time down here, just touching you and looking for any problem spots. If you feel safe, close your eyes and try to enjoy the sensation.”His fingers were warm as they stroked my sewn. More

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