She didn’t care.She stopped wearing clothes at all. “Getting dressed” meant high heels, stockings, earrings, lipstick, make-up and nothing else... If she absolutely couldn’t get away with being nude – such as on the bus – she would wear a skimpy micro-bikini, taking care to ensure that the crotch went between her pussy lips rather than over them, and that her nipples were visible through the fabric.Boxes started arriving at her home and office, full of bottles of white fluid. A note informed. As she sat with her son in her private bedroom, her well layed plan was now completed. She had done all she could. She had presented a strong case and had been wholly honest, letting her tone and the art in the digital frame indicate this wasn't about a roll in the hay of i****t. She was suggesting something much more, something much more twisted, something much more delicious to anticipate. "I want you to sit a few minutes. Admire yourself in these mirrors. You look so sweet." Barb caressed. More

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