The thought of being with him later would keep me there all morning long. I would carefully pick out my clothes. Along with my sexiest sleeveless, low...cut, sweater I would wear a red bra and matching thong. Of course, I would have on a conservative blue skirt and blazer with nude colored thigh highs and heels. My pussy would throb at the thought of how I looked without the suit I wore. Finally, about 10 am I would get a call from the oval office saying that the President would need to see me.. "Yeah, it almost seems like the power was cut or somethin'. Engineering's supposed to be on it. In the meantime, you boys check that direction." It's a deep, gravelly voice, and you have to focus hard to make out the words it speaks. A moment later, you hear: "Door systems, too? Thank hell it's just them and the lights so far. Why ain't this door fastened all the way?" This is followed by some clanking sounds, grunting, and repetitive, mechanical noises. There's little time to react before you. I rang the doorbell in anticipation, delighted to see Mrs Jones meet me at the door with a big smile. She was wearing a tight black suit dress, pantyhose and some cute black ankle boots. She made some milk and cookies and we sat and talked about clothes for a long time. I asked her questions about lingerie, what a basque was, how to put on stockings, what heels go with what outfit. She was keen to teach me all about dressing in women's clothing. It was getting late and I had to go home. She. Normally I’m content to amble along at or about the speed limit, today I drove like a demon possessed, it took me all of half an hour to make the normal forty five minute journey. Glynda and Bri’s cars were in the drive when I got there so I parked out on the road, rushing up to the house. Glynda had the door open as I got to it, as I got inside Bri through her arms around me. ‘Garry.’ Was all she said before she started sobbing again. As I manoeuvred Bri into the living room I was looking in.
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