My heart fluttered as the door bell rang. I was in the middle of curling my hair for school when my mother knocked on my door and entered. She handed me the box and put a glass of water and my breakfast, toast and jam on my bedside table. She ignored the fact I was in my bra and panties. She looked me up and down and said "Quelle femme". "Merci" I courtseyed. She looked me in the eyes and held me by my shoulders, "femme se bat pour cette opportunité depuis des siècles. trouver votre pouvoir." I yawned and closed the door on her.I turned and stared with intrigue at the box. Then looked at myself as I took my curlers out. My long hair bobbed and curled perfectly. I took my stool and put it in front of the mirror. I took a razor and shaved my long thin legs. I took my panties off moved the stool and lay in front of the mirror spreading my legs. I looked to see if there was yet any hair there needing removed and enjoyed looking at my tight abdominals and neat pretty pussy. All looked. "That would be nice," he purred in her ear. How had he gotten there without her noticing? Music that sounded almost slinky began to fill the space with lush tones as his hands found her bare skin and that traitorous skin reacted, goose bumps raising and shivers of absolute ecstasy thrilling down her spine. He'd never toucher her other than to shake her hand or give her that little, teasing peck on the cheek. And here she was, naked, absolutely enraptured by the simple caress of his calloused hands.He slid those hands down her shoulders and arms, past her hands to her thighs and then back up, caressing her hips and her sides before bringing them to meet each other at her spine, and then back down, slowly, to her ass, and back around to her hips."I like those stockings a lot," he murmured, as he gently but firmly guided her toward one of the pools of light half-way across the room. There was a bench there - covered in leather and with steel loops bolted to its rough wooden frame."Wha.
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