"Hey," I heard, interrupting my reverie. "You're Carl Fleming, right?"She was an honest to god Pixie. I was looking at a girl-woman, who stood four fo...t something, and weighed about eighty pounds. She must have been in her late twenties, judging by her crow's feet, but looked twelve. Her bust line was imaginary, but her nipples more than made up for it. They stood out proud and strong, pointing straight ahead, and begging to be sucked.I took it all in before she spoke again. "You're Carl. Hesmirked and said, "Sure. But you'll have to work for it. Let me getwhat i made for you. It's in my truck."He went out to his pick-up, one with gargantuan tires. What he came backwith was covered by a sheet. He took it to the den and unveiled it. Istood there in a much shorter version of one of my cotton nightgowns.The only other thing I had on was a pair of unflattering panties. What Iwas staring at was a captain's chair, painted white, with the legs cutshort. On its wooden seat was. More

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