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Bob sat in one of the chairs, laptop on a swing out tray pulled in frontof him. He was tapping away on the keyboard."Hey, how's life treating you Bob?" Until today, pretty shitty. But I know that is all about to change." Oh yeah? You have a lead on the winning lottery number or something?" Very close. In fact, you could say I've already hit the jackpot."I frowned in curiosity as I walked over and took a seat on the couch.Sighing in relief as I sat down, I'd been on my feet all day, I asked,"Am I going to have to visit you at the state pen? You're not hooked upin something illegal are you?" No, nothing illegal. Nothing to do with the lottery either. The statewill never know a thing." So what is it? Does it have something to do with this new softwareprogram you were telling me about?" I asked while noticing again how Bobkept himself ripped. He'd always had a six pack, probably why the jockswere always unsuccessfully trying to pick on him. His polo shirt wasstretched tight over his pecs. Mrs. X took me to this room to get my mask and also take off all my clothes except for my boxers. Then I was told to meet them in this room where they had chairs set up in a circle. The guys were told to sit while the women were lined up against the wall. The women were all masked but were all gorgeous. They work this short red Christmas miniskirt and a very revealing top. Mr and Mrs X then asked for everyone’s attention. Mrs. X then told everyone that we are playing a little game of musical chairs. Each woman will circle around the chairs and when the music stops and they will need to find a lap to sit on. The person not sitting on a lap will be out . Also after each round the person without a lap will be out of the game. As for the guys there are numbers on each chair that we are unable to see. After each round one chair gets removed along with the guy. The last girl and guy on the floor are given the keys to their private guest bedroom with complimentary champagne. I was.
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In a short time she encouraged me to stand back up and follow her into my bedroom. She had covered my brother’s now unused bed with a sheet for us to frolic on. Her arms wrapped around my neck as she whispered into my ear…”Unfasten the belt and unzip my skirt,” she ordered. I nervously fumbled with my chore and slid the skirt off her wide hips. “Silly boy, it would be easier over my head,” she commented. I was so surprised to see she had no underwear on, just her hose and what had to be her oldest, most worn garter belt, its straps adjusted almost to their maximum length in order to accommodate her long curved hip line, short waist and to keep her hose tight on her slender calves and dramatically enlarging thighs. The front straps beautifully framed her lush, thick crop of straw colored pubic hair, the last vestige of her blond youth. I was taken by that thick patch of hair, a perfect triangle almost, just waiting to be played with. I commented on the worn out.

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