Plunkett from his ChasteBois support group and indeed, he’d mowed the guy’s lawn.?Hey Mr. Plunkett, how’s it going?? Spalding asked in a friendl... voice. Darrell looked up and grinned.?How’s it going, Spalding? You missed the last Chastebois meeting.? Darrell lowered his voice when he said this, although the streets in their suburban neighborhood were deserted.?Yeah, we had an away game, and didn’t get back on the bus until seven Sunday night. Hey, it’s none of my business, but how did it go. Short but gentle moves. A slight damp patch emerging he thought. He looked in detail around him. Everything was in such beautiful close proximity, a leg on either side, stocking clad, beautifully finished with her shoes. Her garter belt straps, dark, silver grey, contrasted beautifully with the charcoal of the stockings, the milky white of her thigh. Her matching silver grey panty, her French manicured hand slightly sun tanned, her beautiful ring sparkling in the light on the finger of her. More

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