The party finally wound down by about two in the morning, and by then, Mistress was considerably tipsy; almost drunk when she got into the cab outside...the party hall. We wanted to make love, the way we had become accustomed to doing, but we knew we couldn’t, and it was so frustrating. There was yours truly, in her wheelchair, Mistress’ pussy in her face, listening to the whimpers, and feeling her panties getting wetter and wetter with her own juices, desperately wanting to be put on her knees. No makeup, just a padded WonderBra, satin panties, and pantyhose. I pulled out of my case a short, curly wig that matched the long one, fitting and pinning it to my hair. Deciding I did not look like I would scare too many people, I brought my case with my evening clothes and soggy wig, just as Robert had requested, and headed for the salon.Part 2Feeling like a bull moose at a formal tea, I entered the salon trying to avoid looking at the ladies being primped and trimmed. Before I could. More

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