?NO! NO! YOU FILTHY BASTARD! NO!? she exclaims and then whimpers. She looks away and shuts her eyes. She begins to cry softly.?STOP STALLING AND TURN ...ROUND!? he demands.Startled by his loud demand she turns and faces him bravely through her tears.?Now lean forward and open those painted lips, SUCK SLAVE!?His member is inches from her lips. She looks absolutely gorgeous in the mirror with the smoldering holder in her gloved hand and elbow leaning on the dressing table. She opens her lips slowly. She had me stand, without heels, and spinaround. I felt like a Prom Queen. I felt like a bridesmaid."Woo-hoo," she said. "I think I'm a lesbian." She grinned. Her voiceremained measured.I imagine long, flowing gowns. Prom dresses and bridesmaid's dresses andthe gowns of women singers. I imagine corsets. I imagine breasts.For years, I had watched Pammie whenever she wore a new dress. I longedto feel it draped around my body, to twirl so the hem bounces against mythighs. I watched her apply. More

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