They say that clothes make a man. Oh if they only knew what clothes can do!Two weeks ago we had arranged, as usual, to have our vacations at the same time. We flew to Vegas for a four- night stay. All of Norman's clothes stayed behind. We were not crossing any borders so identification was not a problem. Once in Vegas Karen and Alice had a ball. I was dressed mostly in skirts and blouses or dresses and always with heels, nothing attention getting, 3" or 4", which I was now comfortable with. Karen, however, wore jeans or slacks and light sweaters with medium heels (and, I might add, looked fabulous).After a day of sightseeing, with me the silent partner, and then an evening in the casino (thank God for hand signs at blackjack!) we went to our room and Alice looked after Karen. I must admit it wasn't easy. I enjoyed working with my hands and tongue on Karen, still in my Alice persona, and I could get her to so many climaxes that she slept like a baby, but it was the pressure on my. The cocks felt so good, the little suction cup swelling and tingling the inside of my canals, creating a euphoria that made me forget everything. My hands clasped around the desk, steadying myself at the rising up of the tentacles inside of each hole. I was so close I looked at the girl, my eyes unfocused as the orgasm thudded through my mind, causing only my lips to tremble as the air exhaled quietly. It was our pact, my deal with the demonic creature, parting with my soul at this instance of intense pleasure. And worth every shamefully earned second. I could barely wait for the girl to leave, the guilt-ravished moment done, ready to be truly taken and treated like I truly deserved. But to my chagrin, I noticed that while every part of the form had been filled out almost robotically, the name had been left blank. My knees knocked together, my greedy cunt already anticipating what would happen once the alien cocks had me alone. With a strained voice, I asked, almost begging. “Please,.
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