Friday, December 14, 2012

Kammi's Serial



My secret is out, thought Amos, and surprisingly, he was happy about it. He got back to the task at hand and whistled as he worked. My, my, what pretty underwear Agnes has, he said to himself as he very carefully guided the warm iron over the satin and lace material. He giggled at the thought of what it would have been like if Agnes had caught him in the pink housedress he normally wore to do his ironing. He decided that that day was not too far away. Even more exciting was the idea that he would be seen with curlers in his hair, as Mildred had threatened. He longed for that day to come too.

‘Well, you look pooped, my dear” Mildred remarked when she returned from her meeting. “Get all the laundry done?”

“Yes dear, but I was caught.”

Amos related the incident when Agnes came to the laundry room.

“About time you came out from your shell. Nothing wrong with a man doing so called woman’s work. I hate that term. My, Mommy will be so proud of you when I tell her.”

“So, how did the meeting go?”

“It was intense. They all agreed to your sabbatical without a problem but the idea of me giving the sermon on Sunday floored them. The tired and worn expression, ‘but we’ve never done that before’ was repeated over and over again. I asked if any of them were prepared to deliver a sermon, reminding them that they were deacons. That silenced them for a minute or two. Then I suggested that  it be called a message rather than a sermon. That seemed to be acceptable until old Calvin Goldwaith reminded us all that a woman taking any part in the service was against the denomination rules. Amos, I came so close to saying ‘fuck the rules’ I was so angry. But I bit my tongue. I challenged them to speak for themselves and decide if they were running our church or a bunch of pompous hypocrites in Mississippi. That got to a few of them and the debate continued. End result? I’ll be delivering a short message on Sunday by a seven to five vote. I predict the next vote on anything to do with women in the church will be at least a nine to three majority.”

“What makes you say that?”

“A little birdie has told me that at least two of our renowned deacons may have been playing around. I know where I can confirm that” Mildred said, remembering her visit with Lin Lu and how she had “the goods” on almost every man in town.

“And I further predict that before the end of the year half of the board of deacons will be women.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, the denomination would never allow that, Mildred.”

“Then I say ‘fuck the denomination’. You wait and see, my darling.”

Amos knew that when Mildred set out to do something, she seldom failed. He saw a new woman before him, one ready to do battle against anybody. He was so proud of her.

Mildred checked on Agnes and found her sleeping. She did accept a bowl of chicken soup for dinner and later joined them to watch the evening news.

“Are you going to keep your curlers in tonight too?” Mildred asked.

“I guess. Leon usually takes them out in the morning before he goes to work and styles my hair. But he left so early this morning, he left it for me to do. Now I just don’t have the energy so I’ll leave them in, though they are getting uncomfortable.”

“Let me help, dear” Mildred said. “Amos, I know you have been paying close attention to Leon putting the curlers into Agnes’ hair the last two nights so I expect you should know how to take them out. You were always a fast learner. Go ahead” she ordered and patted Amos on his thigh.

Hey, that’s woman’s work, he thought but luckily did not say it out loud. Mildred would surely use her cane for saying such a thing. Oh boy, I am quickly spiraling downward, but he eagerly looked forward to his new task. He stood behind Agnes and untied her net and removed it from her head. He figured that the next step would be a reversal of what Leon had done and removed all the pink picks embedded in the curlers. From there, it was a no brainer to unwind the curlers Leon had wound. He could not help patting the formed rows of curls with his open hand.

“Oh, that feels so much better, thank you, Amos” Agnes said with an emphasis on his name.

She saw Mildred raise her eyebrows.

“Well, I figured that I could call anybody that washed and ironed my panties by their first name” she said to Mildred.

“Good for you dear. Would you like to have Amos brush your hair too? He’s very gentle, he does mine every night.”

“That sounds delightful. Thank you Mildred. Amos, my brush is on my vanity in my bedroom.”

Amos dutifully trotted off to get the brush. He found that Mildred had moved from her chair to the couch, next to Agnes. Without a word, he resumed his place behind Agnes and gently drew the brush through her curls. She purred like a cat.

“Oh my, Mildred, this is the life. You know,  you and Amos should move in with us permanently. I think, that with just a little more training of our husbands, you and I would never have to do a bit of housework again. Can you imagine that?”

“Not only can I imagine it, Agnes, I am working hard to make it a reality for all women. I truly believe that god intended it to be that way. Why else would she have made men so strong and us women so weak and fragile?”

“But we’re smarter, right?”

“Yes indeed, and it’s that superior thinking that will make this revolution happen. We have truly outsmarted them, at least in our small town. And you know, I am already getting feedback that many of the men are happy with the role reversal. They are tired of being depended on to do all the work and taking all the responsibility both in their jobs and at home. Meg Smith confided in me that her husband, Lenny, is thrilled that she is now a senior manager at Dryfuss making more money than he did. She loves her new job and he loves staying home and maintaining a perfect house. She said he is very fussy and there is not a speck of dust anywhere, the windows are all crystal clear, and laundry is done three times a week. And he’s looking forward to his first visit to a beauty salon to get a perm and a wash and set. After she showed him how, he now sets his hair every night, after he does hers first, of course. Her daughter, who used to want to be a nurse, now wants to be a doctor. Her son, instead of being an engineer, wants to be a nurse.”

“Wow! Fantastic” Agnes proclaimed.

Amos was ignored in this exchange between the women while he continued to brush Agnes’ hair. He was not surprised at what Mildred said, he had heard several similar accounts. The surly Malcolm Weathers gave up his ubiquitous black suits of an undertaker to bright, frilly blouses and white slacks as he transitioned from making up corpses to joining Laverne’s in a new position of make-up artist. Ladies loved the somewhat naughty idea of a man applying their make-up, and he did it very well. He had even started to do facials, something not previously available in their once conservative town. And most shocking of all, he wore make-up himself. There were rumors that Malcolm, who had never married, and Laverne, a war widow, were spending a lot of time together outside of the beauty salon and that Malcolm played the role of wife in the relationship.

Had Amos known all this gossip before the lightning strike, he could have given an even harsher, more condemning sermon than he had. Now he took all this in stride as the new normal. A great weight was lifted off his shoulders. He would enjoy his “coming out” as the submissive partner in his marriage. He sighed as he considered how pleasurable and relaxing it was to brush a woman’s hair. Life is good, he thought. And he still had his wife’s to do.

When they adjourned to their bedroom for the night, Amos saw Mildred beckoning him with her finger to the bathroom. She had a sly smile on her face.

“Forgotten about the little punishment I promised you, dear?”

Amos had no idea what she was talking about until he noticed the soapy glass in her hand. Bits of shaved soap floated on top.

‘Aw, come on. How come I get my mouth washed for saying ‘damn’ while you get off scot free for saying ‘fuck’?”

“Because I’m the boss, that’s why. Get used to it. Now open up for your nightcap.”

Amos hated this punishment most of all. It was totally humiliating and burned his mouth. He knew that he had deserved it before. After all, it was not good for a pastor to swear but hell, now everything had changed, even to the point of Mildred, a god fearing pastor’s wife, freely saying the “f” word. But he opened his mouth and let Mildred pour the obnoxious liquid. He knew the routine. He swished the stuff around for a couple of minutes, gargled it, and then was forced to swallow it. This was repeated two times more until the glass was empty. This was a double punishment, first from having the awful taste in his mouth and second because she had made him swallow, which she did not always do, which would cause terrible cramping later.

“Good boy. Now you can have dessert, I’m really gushing down there tonight and I’m very, very horny. Give me three orgasms and I’ll give you a hand job. Deal?”

“Yes dear” a defeated Amos said, though he did look forward to having his own orgasm.

An hour later with both of them satisfied, Mildred used the dirty panties she had worn all day, and now wet from catching Amos’s cum, to wipe off the bloody mess on Amos’s face.

“Night dear” she said as she tossed the panties to him to clean and then rolled over and went to sleep.

The next two days were uneventful except for Amos taking over all the household chores by himself. He couldn’t wait for Leon to return so he could share the work. It was his house, after all, Amos thought. The ladies left him alone while they took a trip to Statesville for some serious shopping. Amos busied himself with a variety of chores including doing another load of laundry. Since it was a warm, sunny day, he hung the clothes outside. He loved to see freshly laundered clothing blowing in the soft breeze and sat for a while in a lawn chair to enjoy the view. Not a bad life, he thought, just doing things that he was finally able to admit that he enjoyed. He thought about Lenny Smith and found himself jealous of his upcoming trip to the beauty parlor. He would like to try that too. Mildred’s mother, Mommy, had taken him with her for several appointments at her salon. She said it was to enhance his knowledge of the female world. He remembered  the wonderful, exotic aromas of the salon and all the extremely feminine activities going on all around him. Mommy made him sit beside her when her hair was washed and set then the long time under the dryer. She instructed him about everything being done, both to her and to all the other women. Amos realized it was the only time he had been so immersed in a totally female environment. There was something very special about those visits but Amos could not put his finger on just what gave him the shivers as he reminisced over those visits.

Meanwhile, Mildred and Agnes checked out all the stores in Statesville and enjoyed a delightful lunch in one of them.

“Oh my goodness, that’s the hairdresser that did my hair a few years ago” Agnes said, pointing to a door that said “Salon Andre”.  “He must have moved from the little salon he had before. Leon represented Andre in some sordid affair between Andre and another man. Leon managed to keep it from going to court and thus out of the press, which Andre was so concerned about. Even in a city as big as Statesville, that kind of thing was just not accepted. Leon and Andre grew up together, though Andre was called Butch back then. Anyway, Leon waived his fee but Andre insisted on doing something to repay Leon. Though he was terribly embarrassed, Leon asked if Andre could teach him some basic hairstyling methods, in total privacy, of course. And that’s how Leon learned to do my hair so well. Andre also insisted that I come in to get a complete makeover and I was only too happy to accept. I got my long hair cut, colored, permed and styled by one of the top stylists in the state. Leon was thrilled to be his assistant. Mildred, do you know what I’m thinking?”

“I think so and the answer is no.”

“But you said you were thinking of cutting your hair. Now’s your chance. Come on, let’s see if Andre is available. Unless you’re chicken.”

Mildred never let anyone call her “chicken”. Taking Agnes’ outreached hand she let her friend pull her up and they walked hand in had to the pink painted door. Mildred was shocked when she went inside. This was like no beauty parlor she had ever seen. It was so posh and elegant. Agnes was equally awed.

“Looks like Andre has moved up a few notches. This place is incredible” Agnes remarked.

“I can’t afford a place like this, Agnes. I’ll bet they charge a fortune just to sit down and admire the surroundings. Let’s go.”

“Mildred, trust me, it won’t cost you a penny. Andre said that I was always welcome to visit at his expense. He was terribly grateful that Leon had spared him the disgrace of a trial and also his generosity by waiving his fee. Ah, Miss” Agnes turned to the beautiful receptionist. “Is Andre free by any chance?”

The girl laughed and replied, in a very snotty way “Monsieur Andre is never free. He’s very expensive. Perhaps you might try one of the apprentices, they’re probably more in your price range.”

“Miss, if you value your job, please advise Monsieur Andre that  Leon Jackson’s wife is here to see him” Agnes said forcefully.

With a dismissive look, the girl went through a draped entrance. In less than two minutes a very swishy man burst into the room. Mildred had to hold back laughter at the sight before her. Unmistakably a man, he wore a purple satin blouse with a ruffled front, black, tight fitting velvet slacks, and low heeled patent leather pumps. His hair was lightly frosted and styled in soft curls.

“Madame Jackson, what a wonderful surprise to see you again” he gushed, taking Agnes’ hand and kissing her finger tips. “What can I do for you?”

“Good to see you again too, Andre. First of all, it’s Agnes, not Madam Jackson please. My friend and I were having lunch next door and I spotted your salon. I had forgotten just where you were located. Actually, I have a favor to ask for my friend. Is there anyone available to cut her hair?”

“Oooh, not ‘anyone’ ma cherie, I will make myself available for any friend of yours. I am just finishing a styling and will be ready in about fifteen minutes, if you don’t mind waiting.”

“I don’t want to trouble you, Andre. Really, anyone that works for you I know will do a good job.”

“But only I can do the best job. Marie, please advise Mrs. Peterson that an emergency has come up and Monsieur Pierre will do her hair today, on the house” Andre said to the deflated receptionist. “Bring refreshments for my guests while I finish Mrs. Robinson. I’ll be with you in a few minutes, ladies.”

Three hours later, Mildred emerged from the salon a new woman having experienced pampering that she could never have imagined. A young boy wearing a pink nylon smock had sensually washed and conditioned her hair and massaged her scalp. Andre took a lot of time to cut her hair. Mildred could tell how fussy he was. She suspected a cut at Laverne’s would have taken less than ten minutes. He took almost as long to apply the coloring. With another boy, this one wearing a white nylon uniform that clearly showed the slip he wore underneath,  handing Amos the rollers and clips, she soon had her entire head covered with perfectly wound yellow curlers. Unbelievably, this was the first time in her life that she had her hair set. Andre placed his open hands on the set and gave it a close inspection. At a nod from him, the boy placed a net on her head and led her to a row of shiny chrome dryers. The boy carefully lowered the hood to the proper position and turned on the dryer. She was barely seated before two girls arrived with a trolley full of all sorts of things and  a pair of stools. With just a smile, they began to give her a manicure and pedicure. This too was a first for Mildred. Agnes had shadowed Mildred through all these procedures, equally amazed by the whole experience. When she was returned to Andre’s private station, a man wearing a white silk blouse and red velvet slacks began her make-up application.

“Light please “Mildred asked, “I don’t normally wear much make-up.”

“Of course, madam” the very well made up man answered. Mildred also noticed that his fingernails were polished a light, mother of pearl pink.

When that was finished, Andre’s helper removed her net and rollers and brushed out her set. Andre returned and took over the final styling.

When he was finished, he presented both Mildred and Agnes with a white box wrapped in a lavender ribbon.

“Please accept these as a small token of my appreciation for all that Leon has done for me. And please remind him that my services are always available to him also. I would just love to get my hands on his beautiful hair. A little curl would suit him very well” he said and winked at Agnes. “And of course, I would expect you to come along too. I have some lovely styles for you in mind, cherie.”

Both ladies were floating on air as they walked to the car. As soon as they got inside they eagerly attacked their gifts. Each got the same thing – an exquisite cream silk panty with delicate lace trim. Beautifully embroidered on the leg was a white Andre.

“Tell you one thing Mildred, Amos better be very careful when he washes and irons these panties.”

Both of them were still laughing when Agnes drove the car out of the parking lot.  

Leon’s trial was settled out of court and so he arrived home a day earlier than expected. He was shocked to find Amos vacuuming the livingroom carpet and wearing a very girly apron. Amos jumped when he saw Leon staring at him. The noise of the vacuum prevented him from hearing Leon come in.

“Amos, what’s going on? Why are you doing the vacuuming? Where are our wives?” Leon questioned after Amos had shut off the noisy machine.

“Oh, I’m just helping out while you were away but I expect that I will be called upon to help out more and more. I did the laundry and ironing yesterday so you don’t have to worry about that. The ladies are spending the day in Statesville but probably that’s not all they’re spending. Both of them took the checkbooks with them. So, how was your trip?”

Leon was overwhelmed by what he had just heard and by what he was seeing Amos do – his pastor was doing laundry, cleaning his house and even ironing. What the hell had happened in the short time he was gone, he wondered. He quickly found out as his friend told him about the new Amos and all that that entailed as well as the fact that he had essentially been his wife’s maid since even before they were married.

“So, time to come clean after all these years of putting on a false front, my days as a supreme hypocrite are over. Want me to make you a cup of coffee?”

Leon just stood there with his mouth open. He had not gone far enough to have jet lag, and the bouncy plane wasn’t even a jet anyway. He could not absorb all of what Amos had just told him.

Half serious and half in jest he asked “So, buddy, do we divide up the chores now?”

“No, I have a lot to make up for so since you are still working I think it is only fair that I do it all until my sabbatical is over. It will be good penance for the sins of my past, especially cleaning the bathrooms.”

Still in a cloud, Leon picked up his suitcase and went to his bedroom while Amos got the percolator started. They had a lot to talk about while they sipped their coffee. They were interrupted when they heard the car pull in the driveway followed by the arrival of their wives. Needless to say, each of them was equally shocked when they saw Mildred.

“Oh my gosh, is that really you, Mildred?” Amos asked.

“Yup, got a haircut. Like it?” she answered and turned in a circle so the men could get a good look at her new do.

“Ya, it’s, ah, it’s short” Amos stammered.

“No kidding, Dick Tracey. And it’s curled too, if you didn’t notice.”

“It’s a different color” Amos stated the obvious.

“Boy, you are so observant today, Amos dear. So, do you like it or should I return it to the store?”

“Over my dead body” Leon chimed in. “It’s absolutely gorgeous, Mildred. I love your pretty curls” Leon gushed as he primped her hair with his open hand, as a woman would do. “I can’t wait to style it for you.”

“Well thank you very much Leon. But I still haven’t heard from that statue that I call my husband. What do you say, Amos?” she said in a sharp tone.

“I think you look beautiful, Mildred, more beautiful than I have ever seen you. What took you so long?”

“You big oaf” she said and playfully punched his arm. “You’re the reason it took so long, making me play the role of the prim and proper pastor’s wife. Those days are over, mister, and you have a lot of making up to do. And while I love the idea of Leon doing my hair, as he has so gracefully offered, you, my boy, are going to take over that task as soon as you learn how.”

“Yes, my lady” Amos replied in a sweet voice while he curtseyed to his wife, holding out the hem of his apron with each hand. Everyone had a good laugh at that.

They sent out for pizza as it was getting too late to prepare dinner. Agnes excitedly related all that had gone on at Salon Andre. Leon hung on every detail and asked a lot of questions.

“So, you didn’t get a permanent, Mildred?” he asked.

“No, Andre did not want to do it the same day as a coloring but he said it would be a good idea to get one after a week or so. What do you think about that?”

“He’s right about not doing both at the same time and yes, I do agree a perm is a good idea. I gave Agnes her perm a few weeks ago. Do you like it?” Leon asked as he fluffed his wife’s hair with his spread out fingers. “Her set holds a lot better with it.”

“Would you give me a perm?”

“Sure, I’d love to but Andre would do a much better job.”

“Yes, but it’s such a long way to Statesville. Agnes’ hair is lovely, I’d be happy if mine turned out so nice. So, can I get an appointment, Monsieur Leon?”

“Certainly, madam, it would be my pleasure. I’ll pick up a perm kit and we’ll plan to do it next week. How about you, Amos, would you like a permanent wave too?”

“I thought you’d never ask, Leon. All my life I’ve been waiting for a handsome man to come along and offer to perm my hair. And now my dream is about to be fulfilled.”

Leon stared at his friend suspiciously. “Is he serious?” he asked Mildred, knowing she would give him a straight answer.

“No, he’s not, but I am. I think a perm would look very nice on you, dear. I’m so tired of that greasy straight pompadour you have worn all your life. Time for a change, honey. Why don’t you pick up two perm kits while you’re at it, Leon. I’ll give you the money. Can you do the two of us the same day? That would be so romantic.”

“Really?” Leon asked, not sure just who to believe.

“Yes, of course. You just heard him say that this would be his dream come true. We don’t want to disappoint him, do we? By the way, Andre told me that if I did get a perm, I would have to set it every time I washed my hair or got it wet in the rain. Is a man’s hair the same? Would Amos also have to set his hair too?”

Leon saw the devilish look in Mildred’s eyes and knew the answer she wanted to hear, true or not.

“Yes indeed. Hair’s hair, whether it’s on a man or a woman. Of course, if you want to maintain a nice appearance all the time then the hair should be set every day.”

“Did you hear that, Amos. We’ll both be going to bed with out hair in curlers. Are you as excited as I am?”

Me and my big, f…ing mouth, Amos thought. He had been kidding about getting his hair permed but it had backfired on him. There was no way he would get Mildred to change her mind.

“Yes, dear, I’m thrilled” he said very unconvincingly.

“While we’re talking about perms” Agnes said, “Andre asked me when you were coming back to get your hair done? I said I didn’t know. What was he talking about, my dear?”

Leon blushed and everyone noticed.

“Oh, it’s just a joke. He thinks I should have a perm too. He says I look good with curls.”

“Oh, really, and why would he say that? He’s never seen you with curls, has he? I sure haven’t.” Agnes asked.

All three were staring at Leon anticipating his answer. Now it was his turn to curse his big mouth. Damn! Why did he ever bring up the subject of permanent waves.

“He, ah, kinda, like, ah, curled my hair once.”

“Oh Leon, you can’t stop there. I know you well enough that your are not telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So start talking, counselor, before I have you fetch a bar of soap for lying” Agnes said seriously.

Leon took a deep breath, looked at each of them, and began his story. He had a very captive audience.

“Butch and I lived just a few houses away from each other so we went to the same schools until college. We were close friends and from first grade we regularly slept over at each other’s house. His father gave him the name Butch, to sound more manly than his real name, Leslie. Butch would much more have liked being called Leslie. He was always a bit of a sissy and was picked on a lot. I protected him. As a freshman in high school he confided to me that he wanted to become a hairdresser, something that he certainly did not want to become public, for obvious reasons. On a sleepover at his house he asked if he could curl my hair. I told him to go to hell. But he pleaded with me and there were tears rolling down his cheeks. He said there was no way he could do his mother’s hair, because of his super macho father, and he had no sisters. He was afraid to ask any girl at school for fear his secret would be let out. He told me the curls would wash out and nobody would ever know. So I let him. His parents had gone out to a movie and would be out late. He washed my hair in the kitchen sink and set my hair in pin curls in his room. He put a net on my head which I objected to but he insisted it would not work without the net. Not knowing anything about hairdressing, I figured it would only take a half hour or so to do the job. My hair was not long,  but probably longer than any other guy in school, thanks to my mother. I was ready to stop the whole thing when Butch said I would have to sleep with my hair up as it would take hours to dry. I didn’t sleep much that night due to the pins sticking into me and Butch regularly patting my head. It was obvious that this excited him. In the morning I couldn’t wait to get the damn pins out of my hair. Butch brushed out the set and then, in his very fussy way, spent a half hour arranging my hair in a curly style. Looking at his reflection in the mirror on his dresser, I could see how happy he was. I did not admit it to him, but I did like my new look. Nevertheless, I rushed him to finish so I could sneak off to the bathroom and take a shower. He was right, the curls all came out. I told him in no uncertain terms that I would never let him do this again. It made me feel queer, I told him and he shocked me when he said that ‘queer’ can be nice too in such an effeminate voice. I tried to avoid him at school but his mother got in the act. She called my mother to ask if Butch could sleep over the following Friday night as she and her husband were going to be out of town and did not want to leave Butch alone. And despite all my protestations I ended up in pin curls again. I felt so sorry for the guy. But this time I did not have to sleep in them. My parents went over to friends to play bridge so we were alone again. My mother had a professional stand hairdryer in her bedroom and I ended up under it for half an hour. Boy, that brought back fond memories of my childhood. That gave us time to watch TV in the livingroom but I ended up sitting on the floor in front of Butch on the sofa as he spent a good hour playing with my hair, arranging it this way and that. I was really afraid that I was turning queer because it felt good having someone running his hands through my hair. And this continued on a regular basis until we graduated. I had pins put in my hair along with wave clips, and narrow metal curlers more times than I want to remember. It almost ended one night in our junior year when Leslie, as he asked me to call him when we were ‘playing’, pushed his body against my back while we were in bed. His erection was sticking into my backside. I jumped up and almost punched him. I told him if he ever did anything like that again we would no longer be friends. He apologized and began crying. It all ended when I went off to college and he went to hairdressing school, much to his father’s objection and his mother’s delight. I didn’t see him again until that legal situation. As part of the deal for him to teach me how to set your hair, Agnes, he insisted that he curl my hair again to ‘create the proper ambiance’ as he put it. So, on those evenings that I went to his salon for lessons, he first of all washed my hair and then set it on small rollers and pin curls but then had them removed before I left. To tell you the truth, I loved that and wished I had the time to sit under the dryer and have my hair styled. Butch was constantly after me to let him perm my hair but there was no way I could allow that. Curled hair was not quite the proper look for a man in a legal firm. I jokingly told him ‘someday’. You know, he always sent me a card on my birthday and asked if ‘someday’ had come yet. So that’s what he was referring to when he mentioned my curls, Agnes.”

She moved over and hugged her husband. “And has ‘someday’ arrived?” she asked him.

“Maybe” Leon answered. “I have to go to Statesville for a meeting at the end of the month. Will it be all right if I’m a little late getting home that day, Agnes dear?”

“Of course, honey, as long as there is no hanky-panky with your old, close, friend, if you get my drift.”

“But you know how I lose control when anyone plays with my hair, sweets” he said teasingly.

“And you know that the choir is in need of a soprano, my love. Would you like to fill that position?” Agnes asked as she reached down and not too gently squeezed his crotch.

“Ouch! Message received loud and clear.”

There was another round of laughter amongst the two couples.


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