She had fought, shot and killed people, stolen food and supplies and now she was sitting in the back of an almost empty supermarket and masturbated be...ause she damn well could, and frankly Jenny wasn’t sure which of those felt best.The survivor’s guilt she had read so much about was more of a survivor’s pleasure, the pain and grieve where there, but felt more like challenge and motivation to keep going.And that was what she did, day after day and sometimes even night, the urge to stay up to. I soon got mynatural bearings and walked to the mirror once again. It was surreal! I couldfeel the tender stretch of the elastic garters pull on my stockings on eachstep. Each step reminding me of pure sensations reserved for enviablefemales. The short hem of the dress tickled my thighs and displayed my ultrafeminine legs perfectly. The black dress hugged my every curve and I detectedthe push of my bosom and the tight stricture of my waspish waist. The tasteof lipstick and expensive perfume. More

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