. Imogen was visiting my home. My girlfriend was at her friend’s place, so we had the whole night entirely to ourselves. We started the night with a home-cooked dinner. Lamb and Mushroom Korma. I knew the recipe fairly well, but was unsure of a few ingredients. She offered to help. We began by organising the ingredients. She was a very neat person; always had a plan. I remember watching her chop the onions. She took such care, and I could see the tears welling in her eyes as she chopped them, the aroma stinging her pupils. She caught me looking at her. “What?” she asked. Her hip cocked to one side, allowing her shirt to rise up. My cock grew firm, and pushed against my jeans. I turned away before she caught me. She didn’t seem to have noticed. But, before long, I felt her hands. She dragged them down my back, then back up, massaging my shoulders carefully. She dug her nails into my shirt and skin, barely, and dragged them down once more. She slipped her arms around my waist,. This was the first time that I had ever worn women's underwear and I waswearing little else but women's underwear.I presumed given what I could see of what I was wearing that I waswearing panties too but I didn't have the time to check.It had been hard to run away from my captors in these heels but one ofthem had told me that I had two minutes to get out of this undergroundcar park I had just driven out of if I didn't want them to shoot me and Ihad better not look back. I would find my car a floor above. They hadbeen wearing ski masks that hid their faces and reminded me of theRussian protest group Pussy Riot.I had struggled to get the keys in the door and then in the ignition withthe false nails I could tell were stuck to my fingers.I could feel that I had a wig on and it was styled in a ponytail whichran down to just above my bra strap and the top of the back of my slip. Ifelt the wig brush against my naked upper back as I was running towardsmy car.I could also feel that my ears.
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