I was wearing jeans and running shoes, my Nebraska winter coat, and my Cherokee hat from Georgia. An officious-looking man in a three-piece suit stopped us inside the door.“May I help you?” he asked with the kind of sneer that said it was obvious that he couldn’t.“I’m Tony Ames. I’m here for the installation of my work.”“You?” the guy asked. His attitude changed completely in a heartbeat. “So sorry. Please, come right this way. Mr. Caldwell?” he called. “Mr. Ames is here.” Clarice came out of a room on the right. She looked harried and like she hadn’t slept in a week.“Tony! Thank god you’re here.” She assessed what I was wearing and dropped her voice. “Yes. Nice. Come with me. Your work is in the C Gallery. Bring your attitude. Lots of it,” she whispered. That was it. We followed Clarice. The gallery was huge. There were half a dozen different rooms and the fact that my work was taking up an entire gallery seemed to have the staff on edge.“Ah, Mr. Ames,” another guy in a suit said as. ." and she ran the palmof her satin hands over the wonderfully thick and crisp material of hergown, inviting Barbara to feel her dress.Rather soon, the pair were stroking each other's frocks and gloves alittle too fondly as George's imagination roamed into overdrive."Mmmm that is so swishy darling," Barbara moaned and leant closertowards her good companion, who was fondling her friend's ample bosomthrough the black taffeta bodice of her own frock.George marvelled at the two women and their sensual touches, the thickred lipsticks seemingly on the verge of intertwining in one long embraceof taffetas, satins and nylons and all just a few inches away from hisnow unbearable erection and stocking enveloped head."Mmmmm...but we have other things to attend to first sweetheart, don't we?"and in unison and is if pre-planned both ladies turned their attention tolittle bound and gagged George."This game....well let's start by tying your legs together with a silkscarf. Joan darling, do you have.
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