Her chestnut hair, rich and lustrous as ever, hangs halfway down her back.Her bare white arms, which are liberally spotted with small moles, move indu...triously, scrubbing each plate, placing it noisily in the rack before repeating the action with another piece of crockery or cutlery.I feel my erection straining against the fabric of my trousers.I imagine Sharon in hot pants and flimsy revealing top with thigh length black leather boots plying her trade as a hooker on the streets of New York. They had done it to me again and wanted me to know that they had done it again. Subtle. Deniable. But it gets the point across. I smiled, showered and dressed in the silk. I thought about not wearing it, but that would be some sort of acknowledgement. I’m not going to give them that satisfaction. Yet. The girls came in dressed to kill. Soft feminine lingerie sets… new ones. Flowing fabrics that at once flowed with movements and clung to their bodies. There was no way in the world that I had. More

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