While holdingup my petticoat, Mummy put one over the stocking of my right leg, to sitsweetly just below my panties. Taking each end of the ribbon, pullingthem tight before tying it off in a lovely bow. The process was thenrepeated on my left leg, after tying the bow, next a lilac silk hankywas opened out, taken by the centre, then tucked just under the garterto hang prettily on the outside of my left leg.Looking in the mirror it looked so beautiful sitting there, the fourcorners hanging daintily, but that wasn't all, once I started to moveWOW! That feather touch against my stocking covered leg was somethingelse. Along with the gentle pull between stockings and suspenders,teasing erotic shivers went through my whole torso. Lily, who was stillfull of sissy juice almost, lost control down there, being so close tothe cause of the disturbance. It took a bit of psychic coaxing on mypart, not to spoil my beautiful panties.The pleasures of being a Sissy girly/boy wearing all these. Still, the redheads’ routine had made its way to her new place. Two miles down the cul de sac, a mile down Leister Path, a half mile across Manchester Way, and then the grueling two and half miles down Abbey Road. She had slowed to fifty-five minutes in her age. Her sports bra still firmly held her jiggling breasts, her yoga pants showed off her strong frame, and her flat, but not ripped, stomach was exposed, tiny, tiny ripples of skin bouncing as she jogged. Sweat had plastered her red hair firmly to her skull and her blue eyes seemed to sag as her pale flesh turned pink in the sun. She was nearing the end of her run now, most of the way down Abbey Road back to the end of the cul de sac where she and Jeremy lived when something stopped her dead in her tracks. “Holy shit,” she said, too loudly, from the sidewalk, “It’s you.” A tall gentlemen turned around from watering his yard to see Farrah standing as he had last seen her, sports bra and yoga pants, sweating, but at least this.
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