Andy Mandy & Me
We need rules. I am not having him dressing up, watching porn and masturbating his pathetic little cock, every time I go out. No.“Andy, I’m home!” His face appears from behind the door of his office. “Oh, hi, Alice. You’re early.” He looks surprised, perhaps worried. “Come here, now.” He hesitates but he knows he will have to do as I have said and, as he steps from behind his cover, I know why. “I was only trying them on,” he says, his hands cupped over his groin, the tiny panties visible on his hips, the suspender belt and stockings finishing the...