Against all my better judgement, Imogene did succeed inengaging the clasps holding the bodice together. She tugged and pulled asshe struggled to close...the zipper down the front. Eventually she succeededand then adjusted the position of the fasteners, so that the front of thedress was open from half way down my thighs to the floor. I could hardlybreathe, but I did look amazing!Lace sleeves - (like long gloves without hands) - were pulled up my armsand long, glittery earrings clipped to my lobes.. You might have expected that my sex life would suffer because of all she was getting on the side, but I was still getting all I could handle and then some. It seemed that the more Cyndi got, the more she wanted me. A shrink would probably say it was a guilt thing; the more she fucked around on me, the guiltier she felt and the guiltier she felt the more she needed to assuage her guilt by making it up to me. I had a much simpler explanation - the more she got fucked, the more she wanted to get. More

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