” I returned her hug, and then she stepped back and examined my car. “Well, I knew something was up when you got home,” she said, with a smirk o... her face.“What do you mean?” I asked, all innocent.“Well, when I left you last night you were wearing one of your western shirts, that one” she said, pointing to the shirt laying on the folded down back seat. “And when you came home last night, you were wearing Steve Miller.”She then reached out before I could stop her and grabbed the shirt from the. She had different blouses she would wear with these. Sometimes she would have her ass open to view, other times she kept it just barely covered by a longer top. Tonight she chose an electric blue blouse that shimmered in any light. It just came to her waist. She went with heels instead of boots. She never got into stilettos. She was worried too much of falling. I always told her the extra inch or two would put her holes at the perfect height. With her ass out, she need not tell me she wanted a. More

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