She mumbled something.“What was that, Joanne?”“Nothing.”“You said something, Joanne.”“I said; ‘You a naughty boy’!”I stared at her... we’d never spoken of our past. It was an unspoken pact, and she’d just broken it.She stood in the center of the room, looking at me defiantly, angrily, hands on hips.“Naughty boy!” she repeated, “You bring me here only to work! Take care of your baby with Julia, ok. She’s good, pretty too. But what about me, David? What about me?”I know I’m not a good person; I’m a. She’s a pantyhose fetishist, too. She was one before I met her, too. I don’t know if she’s also into encasement. I’ve been too embarrassed for the usual reasons of worrying about her thinking I’m weird or something.The package was delivered to my place. I had originally planned to leave it unopened until the next time I was able to spend some quality time with my girlfriend. Of course, you know how sometimes you just get too curious and too turned on when you buy a new bunch of nylon… I opened. More

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