" Okay." Come on," Gwen said gently as she takes my right hand in her left hand,I mean his left hand, and leads me straight through the crowd, around thestage, up a few stairs, and into the backstage area. I've got to admitI'm kind of digging Gwen holding my hand. Very cool. Like being backstagein Vegas or something I thought. Still leading me by the hand Gwen leadsme through the action saying her hellos and giving kisses as we go. Sheintroduces me to everyone we bump into. We enter in to a big. Yes, they remembered her, but no, they couldn’t use her anymore. That was fifteen years ago, they’d said, a little too frankly, as if believing she didn’t know. She had done some escort work in college, mostly easy stuff, arm candy for older guys, they were more like elaborate dates. Dinner and drinks and dancing, she would smile and laugh with them, feed their egos and libidos. Faking the conversations had been harder than spreading her legs at the end of the night. It had paid well, and. A few unfortunate accidents had taught Miranda that testicular pain was one of the worst things she could experience, and avoiding it should be a priority.Despite the lubrication, walking in the tight dress still required a great deal of coordination and grace. She had to time the motion of her feet and knees with that of her cock and balls and keep everything moving along with metronomic precision. It was this somewhat hypnotic combination of movements that entranced the valet, who watched her. She was the same size and shared the same figure.Jerry took Emma's hand. "Thank you for coming," he said and bent to kiss her cheek. She turned her head so that it landed on her lipsHe started but she squeezed his hand. He looked her in the eye for a moment and then tore himself away."Hello, Zoë," he said warmly. "I'm delighted to meet you." And you, Colonel Evans." Don't you dare! Jerry!" Yes, sir." She stood rigidly to attention.Jerry laughed. She was clearly a fun girl.He led them though to.
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