He knew the suit Rita was talking about. It was a nice tailored woman'sjacket and trouser suit; the blouse was a crisp white cotton with Frenchcuffs. ...ot exaggerated in the styling just classic tailoring. But... itwas still a woman's suit. He struggled mentally for a moment trying to make a decision. It wasDianne that posed the kicker."Not sure you have a choice here Billy boy. Your own stuff won't be readyin time and Gillian won't let you in the room looking like that. I think Ihave an idea. Slow. No rush. Enjoy her cunt."Crawling back to her, I whispered, "Do you want him to stop?" I asked as I held her hands in place over her head. "No one is forcing you. Just say 'stop' and it will."She shook her head vehemently. "No! Please! Don't stop! I need this. Tell me it's OK. That I'm not a whore!" she said looking into my eyes. I rubbed her clit faster. Harder. "Ah, but you are a whore - and there's nothing wrong with that. He's a man. You're a woman. There's nothing more natural -. More

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