" Gee, thanks," I said, regretting the whole thing suddenly. He put his hand on my back and led me inside and shut the door behind us. I walked in fur...her, and I could feel him staring at me. I turned, self-conscious, and I was right. "Hey, take it easy," he said. "I ain't no damn r****t. You can leave here whenever you want. When I told you I'd fuck you good, I meant it, but you can leave whenever you want." I was definitely reassured by that. "What if I want to go right now?" I asked. He. I had grown up with my Mother, Aunty, friends of theirs all wearing ffnylon stockings and high heels and me being allowed to mingle with them when they visited for “Gatherings”. I would sit on the floor looking up and around at ffnylon tops being shown, wrinkles galore, sheer, shiny, dark, high heeled perfection. On occasions I was bold enough to stroke those glorious Nylons, generally met by a smile down at me from the owner, a pat on the head, and carry on talking, bliss. In the end my. More

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