tend to do well with big corporations and Tim's is the biggest commercial bank

in the state. At his rate, he'll make Senior Loan Officer and Executive Vice President before he's thirty five. Unless of course something happens. A small scandal perhaps? Banks are so, uh, small minded about some things.

I saw George's Jag in the parking lot. He slid out of the driver's side as I pulled into an empty spot alongside. Georgeously coiffed women and tuxedoed men were pulling in all about us. George in his tux and I in my gown were all set for this pre Winter night. And then there were our darlings. Candy slid out as George opened her door with an unintentional burst of entirely too much leg. She still hadn't mastered the fine are of covering up while emerging.

"Geez George. What are you wearing?" He asked, obviously wondering about George's costume.

Stuffed Hands

"Oh, I'm going as George Raft, the great dapper movie criminal. I'll put on a small mask inside," he said with a smile and a slight wink in my direction, "But a bind tonight. Obviously by let's go help Lylia. The poor dear seems in such 'we' he meant Candy should go help Lylia, so she minced, jiggled and jingled around to the passenger side of George's car.

I came behind and saw that Lylia looked perfect. Inside the car sat another tuxedoed man. George had slicked his wife's short hair straigh back and washed her face of all makeup. She wore a tuxedo identical to his that covered her figure fully. And it soon became obviouse why Lylia needed help.

Apparently her hands were stuffed into her pants pockets and somehow secured inside. Since she couldn't remove them, she couldn't unbuckle her seat harness. She was trapped there until someone wanted her out enough to release her. Candy bent over and into the car (presenting a wonderful display of her magnificent buns) to release her friend and helped pull her out. It was in the light of the parking lot that the rest of Lylia's plight became apparent to me.

Lylia wore a Magnum-style mustache and her lips were apparently glued closed under it. In order to give her a somewhat more masculine look, something or some things had been crammed into her mouth before the sealing and the was padded all over and her packing filled out her cheeks. Apparantly she wonderful bust line was well taped in. She looked every inch the sophisticated GQ man of the year, if a little small. And with her hands stuffed nonchalantly into her pockets that way, she seemed particularly relaxed. Unless you knew what was going on, she'd pass completely.

A Jiggling Tiny Purse

I walked over to the handsome couple and added one last touch. "Click!" Sliding Candy's gloved left hand through Lylia's right arm, I quickly attached her jangling bracelet to her waist with a tiny lock. Until that lock was released, these two would be an inseperable couple. I couldn't wait to see them on the dance floor.

"I can't do this Lylia. Don't make me, please don't." The lovely little blond with the enormous breasts was really distressed now. All sparkling and heeled and blonded, she clung to her man's arm. Her tiny silver purse hung low over her free hip from a long shoulder string. It accentuated the wonderful sway of her large hips as she clicked along. Obviously Lylia felt a similar reluctance and mumbled similar whining grunts through her sealed lips. But their fates were obvious and the protests useless as we prodded them toward the brightly lit

entrance.

We saw Tim's boss walk in with his wife as we approached the door, but even though he stared directly at them, he showed not the slightest sign of recognizing Candy. And that was good, very good. Because there was something that neither of the fashionable little couple in front of us knew. While, this was the great Holloween fund raiser for the hospital, the major society event of the year it wasn't ever a costume party. Ewww, this was going to be fun.

Timothy Reisling Betticut

(Continued from page 48)

I'm ungagged, so that my whinings can be enjoyed by everyone. And as I shuffle about on these damned spiked heels i realize that I'm ajiggle at bust and bun. There are signals that turn us on, and a jiggling, helpless woman isn't one of the more subtle. I wonder how much the jel padding on my derrier will protect me from the paddling I'm about to get. But, knowing how erotic I look, and how wrong it is to be so slutted up, I've got the paddling coming. Or at least that's the way those guys will see it, I know I would.

Timothy Reisling Betticut

Fantasies In Lace,

(SEXY LINGERIE)

INC.

52

(305) 581-2366

3608 W. Broward Blvd.

FL Lauderdale, FL 33312