A few minutes after passing me, Jamie pulled back up next to the curb and hollered out through the driver’s window, “Hey Mr. P!” I smiled. “H... Jamie,” I replied. “How’s college?” “Pretty cool,” she responded. “How is Mrs. P?” Jamie asked. “She’s fine,” I replied, “She is out shopping.” The door cracked open on the Mustang and I watched as Jamie stepped out of the car, clad in cut-off shorts and a form-hugging “Babe” t-shirt. “So where’s James?” Jamie asked. James was our 15-year old son. . Fuck you, I thought and got out of bed.I grabbed a chemise, put it on and went into the kitchen. At this point, I’d better describe my chemise. White satin. Mid thigh length but split both sides from the bottom hem to above the waist. Very strappy. Low back and front. Sleeveless, of course, so much of the sides of my breasts is clearly visible. Oh 36DD for the avid reader.So, there’s the picture. When I walk or sit, this thing splits at the sides to my waist. My tits are covered, Just.KNOCK. More

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