From Enlightenment To Appreciation free porn video

From Enlightenment To Appreciation ? by: Jillian I have long loved and admired women but from afar. Not of my own choosing but rather because I never thought of myself as being very good-looking or attractive to women so I've never had the courage to approach them socially. To make things worse, I work with women all day long in my position as a low-level executive at one of the bank's branch offices. Thus some of the women I see during the day are always dressed up and nice-looking whereas some of the others, mostly customers, are wearing from one extreme to the other when it comes to how they're dressed. I was fascinated with how they dressed, how they comported themselves, their facial features, their figures, their gestures and mannerisms, you name it and I studied it. Then there came the day when a new teller transferred in from one of our other branches. This young lady was, to me, the very epitome of all I admired in women. She was maybe 22 or 23, had an absolutely vivacious, outgoing personality and a stunningly perfect figure to go with her absolute beauty. Sara Anne Thomas was her name, I found she was single, educated and had her own apartment. Sara was about 5'3" tall, weighed maybe 100 lbs. tops, had long, light reddish brown hair and the greenest eyes I've seen, eyes you just wanted to fall into they were so captivatingly vivid. As for her figure, which was stunning, her breasts were slightly large in proportion to the rest of her, her waist was almost what I would consider tiny, her hips and ass were just perfect and her legs appeared to go on forever, in spite of her short stature. Sara could have been a Playboy Centerfold model, she was that perfect. Our work obviously put us in contact on a fairly regular basis and the more I interacted with her, the deeper my appreciation of her as a brilliant and lovely young lady. While Sara was always outgoing and had a terrific sense of humor, never once did she, or I, cross the line into workplace impropriety. Little did I know at that point in time of the vicious inner turmoil she was battling with, a struggle she'd been suffering from for years. In fact, it was something I would only learn of many months later when, at a bank picnic, we had the time and opportunity to begin to know one another on a more social basis, away from work. The bank had originally scheduled the picnic for mid-summer but constant bad weather had forced its postponement until that fall. It was cool enough by then for everyone to have come in jeans instead of shorts and to have brought jackets with them in case it got cool in the evening. I had to, because of my position play in some of the organized games during the day and I found myself always on the alert to find where Sara was standing to watch her reactions. And, of course, when she was involved or playing I was nearby watching her. It was almost as though I was addicted to her, watching her every move in an unobtrusive a manner as I could. When it came time to eat, I lost track of her whereabouts and only after dinner when I left the group and went for a walk did I happen to find her, sitting alone on one of the benches in what appeared to be a rather sad and pensive mood. "Miss Thomas? Is anything wrong?" I spoke aloud as I drew closer to her. In turning around to see who had spoken to her, her face light up in her usual bright smile. She said, "Oh hi, Mr. Allen. No, not really." As she moved to one side, making room in an obvious invitation for me to join her on the bench. After a few minutes of basic conversation, I said, "Please, just call me Paul. We're not at work now." "Okay, then you can call me Sara," she answers, extending her hand for me to shake as though we've just been introduced. So small is her hand that it nearly disappears in my average sized one, her bright red nails just peeking out from the side of my hand and it's so soft, too. We just sit there side by side, talking quietly for maybe a half an hour or so when I say, "Sara, you seem distracted, almost upset. Did something happen, did someone say something that has upset you?" "Oh no, Paul, not at all. I'm sorry but I get like this sometimes. I'm fine, really." "Is there anything you want to talk about? I'm really a pretty good listener when I put my mind to it." She just laughs and says, "No, really, I'll be okay." After the picnic and while at work, Sara and I came to be friends, nothing more. We would occasionally meet someplace after work just to have a drink or two together and unwind from what had been an unusually busy or stressful day. In doing this, meeting after work, we were always very circumspect in making the arrangements to meet because there's nothing worse than having rumors going around about on office romance that's reputedly happening. Understanding that while all of this took place before banks started opening for half days on Saturdays, realize that most of the times Sara and I met for drinks were mid-week so you can imagine my surprise when I got the note from Sara on a Friday, asking if we could meet later. You see, how she usually contacted me (I never instigated our meetings) was to hide her notes in the midst of some paperwork she'd bring to my office. I would then, some time later, catch her eye while I was on the floor and indicate with either a nod or shake of my head, my availability. If I had indicated in the affirmative, at some point later she would then hide another note indicating a suggested meeting place, it's location and the time, whereupon I would do the same as before. Thus, when we left work, we were never together or gave any indication there was anything at all going on between us. I had suspected she might seek to meet today since she'd been in something of a blue funk all day, one very few people other than myself might have noticed. Due to the paperwork I have to do every Friday to close out the week, Sara was already waiting for me when I finally arrived at the restaurant she'd designated. Now before I go further, let me explain that while our ages weren't very far apart (I'm 25) and we probably looked to a lot of people like a couple when we met like this, there was no romance between us, much to my chagrin and disappointment. But a guy can dream, can't he? Anyway, back to this meeting; we'd always met just for a drink or two but for some reason, I knew this meeting was to be different if for no other reason than it was the first time Sara had picked out a restaurant instead of a bar. I could tell Sara had already had a couple of drinks and was still in her funk because all through dinner she spoke of nothing but work where we would normally speak of other things. After we'd finished desert and over yet another drink, Sara finally started to speak of other matters besides work. I could tell she was starting to get a bit tipsy but said nothing, this night, like all our other meetings, is hers to direct and address whatever she wants to speak about. Suddenly, and from way out in left field someplace, Sara said something I'll never forget; "Oh Damnit, I hate being a girl!" I was so taken aback I couldn't even respond at first. When I was able to say something, it was quite inane, "Surely you don't mean that Sara, you're a beautiful young lady and should be proud of yourself." With these words barely out of my mouth, she launched into a veritable litany of why she felt as she did. She resented the time it takes her to get ready for work every day, the effort required to always look pretty, the fact that men need so little time in comparison, and so on. I let her talk then tired my best to reassure her that her efforts were appreciated whereupon she lit it up again, this time about all the things women have to deal with that men don't. Their hair, their clothing, their 'monthly visitor', dating, and so on, any and every thing she could think of that makes girls different from guys. "I often wish I could just get up out of bed in the morning and go stand in front of the john to relieve myself instead of having to sit, especially during the day when I have to half-undress just to pee. Then just go get dressed without having to fix my hair, put my makeup on and have to mess with pantyhose and high heels all day long." To say I was shocked by this series of admissions from Sara would be a gross understatement. How such a beautiful young woman could so dislike her feminine role in life was totally amazing to me. But I knew better than to try to argue with her, to tell her how wrong she was to feel this way for they were, after all, her truly heart-felt feelings. Instead, when the time was right, I simply commiserated with her, trying to do what I could to let her know that while I couldn't understand her feelings exactly, I was sympathetic. After a while, Sara clamed down enough to express her shame at having told me how she suffered from this inexplicable affliction but I told her not to worry, I was more than willing to hear her out and lend a willing shoulder for her to cry on. Long after we would normally have parted from one of our after-work meetings such as this one, we were still heavily involved in conversation as the both of us began to really open up to one another. We finally reached a point where it was getting late and Sara invited me to come to her place where we could continue talking. Once inside her nice but small apartment, she went to her bedroom to change her clothes, telling me to make myself comfortable while she changed. When she came out to join me in her front room, she was wearing a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and no shoes. Then the discussion quickly picked right back up where we'd left off earlier, about her feelings mostly but then she asked me about mine... what I liked and disliked about my life. We ended up talking well into the wee hours of the morning with me eventually admitting to her how smitten I was with her beauty and femininity. She offered to trade places with me, saying she'd willingly trade lives and bodies with me. When I admitted to her I would willingly do so in a heartbeat, but that such a thing was impossible, she start to cry and fell into my arms for comfort. I held her close for a long time as she continued to cry, until we eventually fell asleep as we sat there with her enfolded in my arms. +++ I woke up first the following morning and as I did, I received a shock unlike no other I've ever experienced. I was still sitting on the couch, of course, but I was the one being held. I was the one who woke up with a mans arms holding me securely, arms I was soon to discover used to be my own. I was so shocked and so afraid that I dare not move lest I awaken whoever it was now inhabiting my former body so I just sat there, as still as the proverbial church mouse while I tried to take stock and figure out what the hell had happened. Just as I thought I was going to have to sit here for quite some time, the guy next to me began to stir. As he awakened, I could tell he was also shocked simply because he stood up so fast he almost dumped me onto the floor. It only took us a couple of minutes to get over our initial shock and realize what had happened... somehow, as though in answer to our prayers, I had traded bodies with Sara and she with me. As this realization was starting to sink in for both of us, his hands went immediately to his now flat chest and to the bulge in his crotch while mine reacted in a similar fashion, one hand to my huge new breasts and the other to the flatness between that now existed between my legs. My first reaction to what I had beneath both of my hands was total shock, as I'm sure was the case for Sara, I mean Paul. We were both looking at each other as our hands continued to explore our new selves and then suddenly, Paul began to laugh. I knew why but had to ask him anyway, "What's wrong, what's so funny?" "My dick," he answered, "it's hard." I just giggled and told him, "Yeah, they get that way sometimes." "How about you, are you okay?" he asks me. "Oh yeah, but these tits are sure a lot bigger from this side of the fence." I laughed aloud. "I know, but they look pretty good from here," he said, laughing. "Brat!" I kidded him. We finally sit back down and take stock of how we each feel now that this switch has occurred. After reassuring each other we're okay with what's happened, he suggests we start this momentous morning off with some coffee. I quickly jump up from the couch and head into the kitchen, suddenly realizing I know exactly where Sara keeps all the coffee fixings, including the pot. How strange it is to make the coffee while looking down over these big boobs, even though the counter seems so much higher than I've been used to. When I go back out to the front room, Paul's missing then I hear the john being flushed and wonder if he enjoyed being able to take a leak while standing up. I realize I have to go too so I just walk on into and through my bedroom and on into the bathroom where I see Paul's already gotten out a new toothbrush and is making himself at home. Knowing full well there's really no good or valid reason for me to be at all shy around Paul, I unashamedly unzip my shorts and pull them down along with my panties so I can sit down on the commode and do my thing, too. So unlike what I've been used to, it just flows out of me in a rush, splashing into the john noisily and he laughs at the startled look on my face. "Don't forget to wipe now, little girl," he kidded. "Brat!" I laugh back, taking a small wad of tissue to pat myself dry with when I've finished. "I hope you took good aim when you peed earlier." "Not at first but I did clean up after myself," he admitted. Then I joke by asking him, "Was it as good for you as it was or me?" We both get a good laugh out of that line then I tell him I want to wash my face and get rid of yesterday's makeup but that by the time I'm finished the coffee should be ready. When I've finished washing off yesterday's makeup, I do something else before I go back out to the front room. I've often wondered how it felt for a well-built woman to go without a bra so I lift up my tee shirt and take mine off. Oh yeah, now this feels good. Oops, now my nipples are poking out through the tee shirt, oh well, it's not as if he's never seen them before. Returning to the front room, I see Paul's sitting at my small kitchen table instead, I go there to join him and he immediately sees that I've taken off my bra. He's already poured our two cups of coffee, fixing mine like I like it with cream and sugar while his is with just cream. "Any reason you removed your bra?" he asks me. "Well, yeah. I've always wondered what it would feel like to go without a bra when one had boobs the size of yours." "Nice, isn't it?" "Uh-huh," I answer, blushing slightly and giggling. We end up finishing the pot and starting another, the discussion so intense and also so fascinating as we've realized we both have not only our old memories and knowledge but also that of each other. As I came to comprehend this, I also realized the former Sara has lusted after my old self for quite sometime and this awareness brings with it my first realization of a growing sense of dampness between my legs. Uh-oh, I think to myself... wondering where this could lead and knowing full well my body is willing. By the second cup from the second pot, we're both coffee'd out so when I take the cups to the kitchen I also unplug the pot. Moving now to the front room, I wonder if I should sit with Paul on the couch or take the chair across from him. No, silly, go ahead and sit with him, I tell myself, he held you all night long. Once seated, Paul kiddingly asks me if I'm cold. When I say, "No why?" he looks directly at my chest. I laugh and tell him it's all his fault, and I know he fully understands my meaning. Then he says, "Well then, I suppose I can blame you for this then," pointing to his crotch. "Probably, you poor baby," I tease him. Then Paul suddenly gets a very serious look on his face when he says, "What do you think we should do about these little problems, Sara?" "Uh, I don't know, what do you suggest?" I ask him back, blushing. "Well, why don't you move a little bit closer and we'll see if we can think of something," he suggests. "I thought you'd never ask," I say, quickly moving over to sit hip to hip with him and take his arm around and over my shoulder. "Mmm, this feels better," I admit aloud. "You like?" he asks. "Yeah, I do like," I admit. It's funny, I don't know how many times I've heard the expression 'protected', but now I know. We just sit there quietly for a while, neither of us saying a word and I know my mind is racing with all sorts of thoughts... how did this happen, why, why to us and so on. But there's also another thought buried deep in the recesses of my mind too, wondering if Paul and I might end up sleeping together before this day has ended. Part of me hopes so and part is scared to death. The part that wants to has me heart pounding, my new pussy all nice and wet and my nipples as hard as a small pair of rocks. The part that is scared is more afraid of the unknown than it is of actually doing it. I know what it's like for men, after all, but for a girl? What's it really like to have a man inside of you? Does it hurt? Is it really as wonderful as I've some women describe it? I do know one thing for sure, there's no doubt whatsoever in my mind that Paul is willing, I know for sure that I would have been. I also know he's waiting for some sort of a sign from me, something that would let him know it's okay. After thinking about it for a while, wondering if I should or shouldn't, I toss caution to the wind and tell myself to go for, that I'll never have as good an opportunity as I do right now. Moving away from Paul slightly, I turn to him and ask, "Is there anything you think we could to celebrate this?" He thought about that for a minute or so and then says, "Umm, not off hand, do you have something in mind?" Without saying a word, I move closer to him and place my hand directly on his crotch, than saying, "Well... yes, there is something." "Sara, are you sure?" he asks. Looking right into his eyes, I softly whisper, "Yes, Paul. I am serious. I want to do it with you, I want you to make love to me." Saying nothing in response, he instead lifts both hands to my face and leans forward to kiss me. Ever so softly at first, we kiss each other and then with increasing passion and desire as our emotions take over. With mutual understanding, we soon separate and I get up from the couch holding his hand and pulling on it, then leading him into the bedroom. There we take turns disrobing each other and when I get down to his underwear, I kneel in front of him and slowly pull them down over his hips and giggling to myself when his erection springs out of them and pops into view. Oh gees, is he bigger now than I used to be? Or is it that I'm just smaller now? No, I don't think so; he really is thicker and longer than I was. Oh boy, I hope I can take him. But for now, and not of my own volition, I lean forward and with one hand take hold of his erection, surrounding its head with my lips. Oh my gawd, what am I doing? Is this really me on my knees sucking Paul's cock? Oh yes, it is really is me, but now I'm Sara and this is a perfectly natural thing for a woman to do to and for her man. And beside, he tastes so good and I just love how he feels in my mouth, so hard, so warm, so velvety soft and yet so ruggedly masculine. I can't get enough of this. Cupping his balls in the palm of my hand, I look up at him from this so very different vantage point and the look on his face tells me what I needed to know, he likes this. I continue on knowing I'm pleasing him by sucking one of his balls between my lips and rolling it around gently inside my mouth. I had no idea that sucking cock was so enjoyable and so much fun for a girl, damn! Licking his hard dick from underneath, I tease it's eye with the tip of my tongue before doing all I could to swallow his entire length. With a little bit of effort I get past the gag reflex and find myself deep- throating him, with the head of his dick part way down the back of my throat. Okay, girl, I tell myself, time to get serious here. Sucking as hard as I can, I pull back away from him until all I have left between my lips is the head of his cock, and then I lean forward and take his full length again. Slowly but steadily then, I move forward and backward, face fucking him for all I'm worth and needing the reward I know will come eventually, his full load inside my mouth and throat. Some moments later, I hear him groaning above me, and then I hear the words I've been waiting to hear, "Oh god baby, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum.... Ahh, I'm cumming." And with the words comes a violent stiffing of his dick and then a spasm as the first of several loads of his hot, sticky, salty, juices fire forth from him and into my mouth and throat. I swallow as fast and hard as I can but in spite of my efforts, some of his cum spills from the edge of my mouth where it drips down my chin and off onto my tits. "I have to sit down, honey." I hear Paul say as his dick suddenly plops out from between my lips. Instead of letting him just sit on the bed, I push him back onto it and jump up beside him, laying my head on his chest. "You didn't have to do that, Sara," he tells me. "I know, but I wanted to sweety, and don't worry, I wasn't gay when I was still you. Something just came over me and I couldn't help myself, I just had to do you." "Okay, if you're sure," he says, with a small laugh behind his words. Then he asks, "It is my turn now?" "If not now, it better be pretty darn soon," I giggle. "Well, then girl, you better get yourself turned around on this bed." "Yes sir, where would you like me to be, sir?" "Any place that will let me get down between your legs, turn about's fair play, after all," he chuckles. Oh boy, now he's going to go down on me, this is going to be something! But first he lies down beside me and taking me into my arms while he kisses me and begins to fondle my tits... oh my god, it feels so good. Now he's pinching and twisting my nipples, pulling on them just hard enough to feel incredible but stopping just short of hurting me. Now he's kissing my earlobes... my neck, my chest above my tits, now he's kissing them... sucking gently on my nipples... oh god, this is incredible! His hand is on my inner thigh now, caressing it gently as his lips move down across my flat tummy where he sticks the tip of his tongue into my belly button. Only when his lips finally come against my pussy do I realize I'm fully shaved down there because I can feel even the slightest touch of his lips, tongue and yes, even his teeth as he nibbles on my pussy lips. When he moves in between my legs, I spread them apart for him to grant him full and easy access, but also because it seems to happen naturally. Paul then lowers his face until it's fully covering my now sopping wet pussy and I feel the tip of his tongue probing me, his lips sucking on me. "Oh god, baby, yes. Oh yes, eat me, eat my hot little pussy." I find myself saying aloud as I'm flooded with emotions and feelings the likes of which I've never before imagined. So this is what it's like for girls, well hooray for my girlhood! On and on Paul continues until I experience what is to be but the first of many tremors as I have my first minor female orgasm, then another, and another, each more powerful than the last until finally I feel like I'm about to explode... and I do as wave after wave of truly violent tremors rack my entire being after first pouring out of my pussy when Paul started to suck on my clitoris. I tore at the sheets beneath me, crying out aloud as I was totally overcome by the power of my first full orgasm in Sara's body. But still Paul continued on, bringing me back almost immediately and then her gets onto his knees and I know it's time, time for him to enter me with that glorious big, hard dick of his, time for me to get fucked! I was already frantic, wanting him inside of me desperately and I told him so, too, begging him to take me, to fuck me hard and make me the woman I'd become. Reaching up beside me, I grabbed a pillow and put in down under my ass, wanting as much of him inside of me as I can get. Paul moves closer until I can feel his dick brushing against my thighs and I'm almost crazy for want of him. He then reaches down between us to take hold of his cock then he slides it up and down just inside my pussy lips, which drives me crazy. "Oh god, Paul, just do it, just put it inside me and fuck me. Damnit, I want it, I want you, I need you to fuck me." And he does, slipping the first inch or so inside of me, which only makes me lift my ass off the bed and toward him, wanting more. Slowly then, ever so maddeningly slowly, he presses forward, pushing inch after slow but oh so delicious inch of his erection deep inside my pussy, filling me with his manhood until it seems I'll burst, he's so deep. Damn this is such an incredibly wonderful feeling; having all of his manhood inside of me like this, I just love it! And now he begins the slow withdrawal followed by his slamming back into me, over and over again. I totally lost track of any idea how long we kept it up but eventually, and far too soon for me, we both came, hard but not quite together. I came to some time later with him still inside of me but just barely. I know I cried out in joy when I climaxed but not until later did Paul tell me I was a real screamer, just as he had been the few times he'd slept with a guy. The remainder of the day that Saturday was spent doing the much the same thing as we both discovered our new bodies were now almost insatiable. Paul was very nearly a satyr with the stamina he showed me and by the time we showered together and got dressed to go get something to eat, I was slightly sore from all the abuse my poor pussy had been subjected to. But going out to eat was special for another reason; it gave me the opportunity to get all prettied up and dressed sexily for the very first time. Paul was very patient as I got ready, too, knowing full well how long it takes us girls to make ourselves pretty. I hung on his arm all evening, and then jumped his bones again as soon as we got back home again. It was almost like I couldn't get enough sex, enough of him. As one might imagine, Paul spent the night with me and we pretty much did the same thing, making love all day Sunday, too, everywhere we could find to do it in the apartment and in every position we could come up with. Before Paul left that night, Sunday, to go home to what used to be my condo and is now his, we talked briefly about continuing to hide our newfound relationship from our co-workers at the bank. I almost cried when I closed and locked the door behind him, so empty was the feeling with him gone. But I knew I was going to have a big day ahead of me tomorrow, my first at work as Sara and that I would need to get up a lot earlier than I normally do. So it was off to the bedroom for this girl where I undressed and went into the bathroom to start the tub filling. I'm in need of a good soak after all the exercise of the past couple of days, it might help relax some of he muscles I've overused. Sliding down under the water and all the bubbles, I have to giggle when I see the tips of my boobs poking up out of the water. How could Sara have not loved these things as I do, so wonderful and giving me so much pleasure? But she's happier now, as am I. I had no idea of the sheer intensity of feeling and emotion a woman gets from sex, no idea at all and it's really and truly incredible. Finding my had has come to rest between my legs, cupping my pussy, I do a bit of self-exploration and when I find my little hot button, my clitoris, I play with it just for a minute, it's simply too sore to do it longer but it feels good anyway. After I've patted myself dry and rubbed lotion in all over myself, I turn out the light and go back into the bedroom where I pull open a drawer and take out a short nightgown that comes down to just about my hips. I don't bother putting on the matching panties and just crawl into bed after making sure I'd set the alarm for 5:00 AM tomorrow. Oh damn, is it time to get up already? Where is that damned alarm? Then I suddenly realize where I am, and who, as well as what I have to do to get ready for work. So I grudgingly climb out of bed, strip of the nightgown I put last night and walk into the bathroom naked to begin the process. Back in the bedroom several minutes later, I go into Sara's, I mean my, closet to look for something to wear to work today, something pretty and nice. Oh yes, here's the dress she wore the first day she came to work at the branch, I think I fell in love with her that very day and partially because of this dress. Okay, now to see what I want to wear under it, I'll need a slip for sure. I think I'll just go whole-hog this first day at work and wear that matching red bra, panty and garter belt set I don't wear very often. Yes, that'll be perfect. But first, I think I'll do my makeup and hair before I get dressed. A half hour later, plus a few minutes, I'm done and pull open my lingerie drawer. Ah yes, here they are... oh gees; I forgot these were thong panties. Oh well, garter belt first girl, so you can pull your panties down when you have to pee. Now let's see what color stockings go with that shade of blue in the dress? White maybe? Yeah, white will be just perfect... and sort of virginal if Paul will catch the message. Mmm, these stockings sure feel nice on my legs, even nicer that the pantyhose I wore the other night when Paul took me out to dinner after we'd changed. Connecting the garters is a bit tricky since it's my first time to do it but I manage, then I put the thong on and pull it up. Hmm, they does feel nice where they've slipped into the crack of my ass, maybe they won't be so bad after all. Now for the bra... hooking it together in front of me first, I turn it around and slide my arms through the straps, pulling it up and into place. I forgot it was a demi-cup bra, too, leaving the upper half of my boobs out of the cups and free to jiggle about sexily. Checking my reflection out in the mirror on the back of the bedroom door... oh wow, I'm a guy's best wet dream! How hot am I? Wooooeeee! Forget the full slip, I'm going to wear a half-slip instead. I'd already started the coffee pot brewing and by the time I'm finished making myself pretty, it's been done for some time. Over two cups of coffee and a bowl of cereal, I ponder what I'm soon to do. Appear in public fully dressed for work as Sara, wearing her sexy blue dress over her red set of lingerie and white stockings, then going to work in her position as a teller at the same bank where Paul has taken over my job as assistant manager. I just hope I can keep a straight face when I see him so no one will start rumors about us. And then make it through the day with no one guessing anything is any different than it's always been, about either of us. Finally walking out the door of my apartment and into the hallway, I pause to lock the door behind before walking down the hall to the stairs and on out to my car. The entire time I was walking, I was enamored by the clickity-clack of my high heels against the surface beneath them, it just sounds so feminine. Arriving at the bank, I key myself in and go straight to the vault to get my drawer, then to my window to start getting ready for the Monday morning rush. From the time we opened until we closed, we were so busy I barely had time to think about anything other than what I was doing, not even about Paul until he walked by my window as I was counting out my drawer. As is usually the case, we tellers left before the officers could because of all the paperwork they have to do. But knowing which way Paul would take going home, out the back way and then onto the side streets, I went the same way and pulled my car off to the side once I was far enough away from the bank, hoping he'd spot his old car and stop. About twenty minutes later, he did. And when he stopped and got out to walk to my car, all I said when he came close enough was, "My place or yours, big boy?" His response was just to say,"Follow me, wench." I giggled as he walked back to his car, he knows me all too well. 20 minutes later, I walk back into my old apartment and Paul's arms, kissing each other as though we'd been apart for months. Practically ripping of our clothes as we head for his bedroom, I love the look in his eyes when he sees what I'm wearing under the dress. "My god, girl, I never knew those looked so sexy on me," he says. "Well, they look even sexier off, "I respond as I reach up behind my back to unhook my bra, letting it just fall to the floor at my feet. Next to come off are my panties but then I stop. The look in his eyes asks the question and I say, "No, I want you but I'm keeping these on," meaning my garter belt and stockings. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but the sex was even better this time than it was over the weekend. I blew him again, he ate me twice and we made love at least twice after that, and I came every time, too... really big, mind- blowing orgasms. Two weeks later we began to plan taking our vacations together and within six months after we got back, Paul popped the question, the big one... and of course I said yes. What other guy could I ever meet who knows me so well, knows all of my likes and dislikes but best of all, who knows how to make love to me like Paul does. I mean after all, what other man could ever know and understand my body like he does?