What is happening to my memory these days?" Buffett, sir, Warren Buffett." I filled in."In any case," I continued, "I was seated next to your wife, wh...le you were seated on the other side several seats closer to the dais. Between the chap from OPEC and the Italian Ambassador's wife, as I recall." Ha! The most intriguing evening I've had at Mansion House in years. Neither one of them had a word of English. Not that I was too concerned about the oil man, but I enjoyed the Ambassador's wife. Did. This story is dedicated to my beloved friend and soul mate who passed away in November of 2002. Dana, I will always miss you terribly.I would like to thank those that helped me with the proofing and structure of the story. And a very special thank you goes out to my dear friend Denise Ryckman, who has generously offered to supply some original artwork for the story.I would love to hear any and all constructive feedback. Please feel free to post or Email me with your comments.--Lisa Grey. So I went to the room he showed me and got dressed in a little school girl outfit. I had a plaid skirt (pink and white) a white blouse with pink bra and pink thong panties. I felt like I was a real girl. More than I did when I left the house this morning for work that morning. When I came out of the room John had just stared straight at me and told me I was beautiful. I felt very beautiful standing in front of a boy. John had me lay down on his bed while he kissed my body all over. I was. He seemed pleased that I had told her and of the fact that it obviously aroused us both.Tracey and Ritchie began to kiss a little more passionately following on from the recounting of our alleyway fuck. I could sense that things were hotting up. On looking at Ritchie's bulge growing in his tight jeans it became even more obvious. They kissed for a little while, Tracey's hand straying to his crotch area and his hands beginning to wander too. First a fumble at her tits, then a hand moving its way.
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