In the dim orange glow of reflected streetlights coming through her rear-facing window, I could just about recognise the point when her skin started t... gain that telltale blush; her jerking respiration had already warned me that she was getting close to her climax. Her quiet gasps heralded a long moment as she held her breath, and then gave a high-pitched moan before her tummy convulsed and she sat bolt upright, before collapsing onto my chest. I held her through her tremors, and she stretched. We walked in our room and saw the contents. Our bags were on the king sized bed. I started grabbing my bags to unpack. I barely got it open when Carried stopped me. “No way! Not now!” She was already naked. “Let’s go!” She screamed at me and started untying the back of my halter top with two towels in her hand. I removed the rest of my clothes. She grabbed my hand and headed towards the door. “Wait, room key!” I grabbed her and mine. We both stuck our foot in the bracelet and put it around. I couldn't help but admire how I looked in Sylvie's full-length mirror. Even my nails were painted, and Sylvie had clamped earrings on me. The dress was very sheer, and ended at midthigh; I didn't have any leg hair yet. I practiced walking in the heels, and watched myself as I pretended to be a girl; I made girlie little hand movements and smiled at myself coyly. My dick got hard, but it couldn't grow inside the tube. I was surprised that the pressure didn't hurt. Actually, it felt sexy. . My Dad -- he's not going to be able to come. My Mom will come, and one or both, maybe, of my brothers, but... not my Dad." That's tough, Kimmy." So -- I'd like you to give the bride away!" Kim said, suddenly cheerful again, "You could stand-in, for my step-dad... Who better?" Jeez, Kimmy. The symbolism would be pretty -- heavy, there, wouldn't it? I've always thought it was kind-of Freudian, anyway -- this business of fathers giving the bride away. But, me! Wow. What does Roland think of that.
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