“Piece of cake, Trish. Of course Ms. Sloane was helpful. Rather useful, in fact.”In our basement Lair, The McGovern had me in one hand, Froggy in ...he other, working -- with her favorite vanilla lubricant -- her up-and-down magic, “You weren’t nervous, Brewster?”“Au contrary, bon ami. Professionality, you know.”“Gosh, I’m ever so proud. How did the Q and A go?”“Swimmingly.” Then — Tell The Truth being the personal Birdie Motto — I added, “I let Ms. Sloane handle that part. She’s young and needed. I had the most terrible buterotic pain in my clit and could hardly walk but when I looked at myreflected crotch there was no sign to indicate that there was anythingdown there. I adored the eroticism of my throbbing clit strainingagainst the crotch of my pantie-girdle and forcing the feminine napkinfurther up into my pussyhole, the accompanying pain, and with thetightness of the pantie-girdle pressing its silky lining against mymost sensitive parts, the strain of the suspenders holding up. More

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