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Our guards stayed with us, but not on top of us. If you didn't pay close attention, you'd have never known they were there. I upgraded their accommodations to suites, so their down time was as restful as possible, and Colleen arranged to add enough relief guards to keep everyone fresh.Hotel Riverton is one of Gothenburg's five star hotels. We took most of their available suites, including their most elegant, for ourselves. Rebecca and Colleen LOVED the way the Riverton pampered them. They luxuriated in the old world style of customer service, and more than once remarked on how easy it would be to get used to such over the top care.My time was mostly taken up with Jennifer. As soon as we arrived, Sherrie rolled Jennifer's chair down the hall to our suite. Her eyes shined like the stars, as she hugged me, pulled me down to her level, and lectured me about missing Christmas with her. Jennifer agreed to forgive me, "just this once," and I promised to try to do better.For over two hours,. He was quite friendly, and we idly chatted as I packed away my shopping. On my next visit, I went to his queue as usual, and as we chatted he quietly asked if I was gay.. My cheeks turned scarlet and I stammered "n...n...n..no," He smiled, and apologised for asking.. As he scanned the next few items, I brushed my hand against his,and said with A smile "but I am bi"I'm never normally wrong, he said, would you like to meet up for a drink sometime? I blushed again, asked for a pen and wrote my number down...and signed it off with two kisses...how gay had I already become?He phoned about two hours later, on his lunch break, and told me to pick him up at 7:30 at a local parade of shops, and that I had to wear some of the panties and stockings I had been buying. I showered, and dressed in some pretty pale pink panties, and black holdups. I wore a shirt, a pair of jeans and lofas with no socks ( you could see my stockinged feet) my heart was racing as I drove to meet him, and I almost.
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Saras heart was pounding and she fought to stop her tears. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her long dark hair was in a tangled mess and her face was puffy and red from crying. There was a scratch on her left breast and her nipples were soar from when her father had pinched them. There was even a hickey on her neck. All the evidence was there, but it seemed more like a dream that little more than half-an-hour ago her father had given the thirteen-year-old her first orgasm, and on her birthday no less. Sara was trembling so badly she had trouble getting her foot into her panties. She tugged another t-shirt over her head and made her way down the stairs on rubbery knees. Out here! barked her mother, and Sara followed her voice out onto the patio. She pulled the hem of her shirt down at the front to cover her underwear and stepped timidly out onto the porch, terrified of what was about to happen. She made it one step, and then she froze in her tracks. Her father sat on the edge.

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