David Findley was a pretty ordinary looking guy. He had on slacks, sport-shirt, shiny shoes and a smile. Kind of like all of the people my mom worked ...ith. He asked me to hang around with him and sent Candy back up to the front office.Candy looked at me for a moment, and then said real quietly," Go with him. It will probably do you a lot of good."I looked at her for a second, and then figured I would take her advice.So I tagged along with Mr. Findley (call me Mr. F) and we went through some. Much like the panties, her bra also had to eventually give way from expansion and just become focusedly tighter resulting in her attire mimicking that of even the most shameless stripper where her bra merely or perhaps barely covered the ever expansive widening darkened pools of her aureolas. And her panties instead of expanding widthfully, instead sunk inward between her pussy lips, borrowing themselves between each crack that was available to it. Arousal of the fabrics constricting nature. More

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