Chapter Forty
The Beauty Parlor Again
It’s Saturday morning. Christy walks her loops. I observe over coffee in the den. The air is cool. Mid autumn approaches. Christy’s pointy n*****s reflect the temperature as does a gait quickened to bring warmth.
I step to the kitchen door and clap, having left open the corral gate, Christy not given to trot off without clothing. She knows to end her exercise and prance to me with zeal in expectation of an enema and warm bath.
This morning’s ablutions will be quick. I need not set her hair or overly apply makeup as the beauty parlor will have Christy scintillating by afternoon. But I do assure she’s well scrubbed. I suspect she will have quite the audience and endure much inspection.
In greasing her rectum, I find two fingers may simultaneous int
