Hall of Infinite Doors
You take the scissors and nibble away at the seam of her dress. She looks down at you. "Here, let me get my shoes on too."
She walks slowly over to her closet and pulls out some black high heels with straps that criss-cross around the ankle. Then she saunters back to her roommates bed, excited to be trying on clothes, and leans forward to put on the shoes.
You calmly gaze forward.
She struggles, as she can barely lean forward to put them on. When she is done, she lets out a "taa daa," and stands up.
She looks like a streetwalker.
"How do I look?"
"Great," you stutter.
She walks back and forth once more. "It's still a little tight. Can you make a longer cut?"
You happily oblige and snip her seam up to her waist. Her underwear shows beneath her skirt.
"That's better," she says, "Now, at least, I can walk. Are you ready to go?" She picks up her purse.
You nod yes, but she looks down at your pants.
"Oh, I don't want to do that again. I felt so bad last time. Here, let me get that for you."
She kneels in front of you and unzips your fly. You hold the back of her head close to you with both hands. She then dilligently relieves you of any pressure you had.
As she pulls away, your finger clips one the right strap on her dress. It tears.
"Oh no," she says. "I guess I better change."
You lean back on the bed in pure ecstacy. When you get up, she is ready to go--in the same outfit she wore when you came in.
She walks slowly over to her closet and pulls out some black high heels with straps that criss-cross around the ankle. Then she saunters back to her roommates bed, excited to be trying on clothes, and leans forward to put on the shoes.
You calmly gaze forward.
She struggles, as she can barely lean forward to put them on. When she is done, she lets out a "taa daa," and stands up.
She looks like a streetwalker.
"How do I look?"
"Great," you stutter.
She walks back and forth once more. "It's still a little tight. Can you make a longer cut?"
You happily oblige and snip her seam up to her waist. Her underwear shows beneath her skirt.
"That's better," she says, "Now, at least, I can walk. Are you ready to go?" She picks up her purse.
You nod yes, but she looks down at your pants.
"Oh, I don't want to do that again. I felt so bad last time. Here, let me get that for you."
She kneels in front of you and unzips your fly. You hold the back of her head close to you with both hands. She then dilligently relieves you of any pressure you had.
As she pulls away, your finger clips one the right strap on her dress. It tears.
"Oh no," she says. "I guess I better change."
You lean back on the bed in pure ecstacy. When you get up, she is ready to go--in the same outfit she wore when you came in.