They were never washed, simply worn by female after female until they disintegrated to the point they could’t be worn. It didn’t matter who wore ...he smock yesterday, or last week, or even last year. You wore what you were issued.Since most of the women had been used for sex that morning – generally with no opportunity to clean themselves afterwards – the heat and humidity, coupled with the lack underclothes, resulted in a strong odor of used, unwashed cunt permeating the pressing room. In. Honey was radiant. There was a happy smile on her lovely face and she'd brushed her hair so that it was a golden mist around her shoulders. Tight black sweater and a dark miniskirt. High heels. The sweater was so tight it outlined her magnificent full breasts and the miniskirt was very mini — halfway up her wonderful golden thighs."Lincoln!" she squealed delightedly.The moment I'd dosed the door behind me she'd thrown herself at me. With her arms around my neck she was willowing herself tightly. More

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