Recent Blog: MR CAMELTOE MRCAMELTOE.COM smiled as I noticed the small gold rings through them, remembering the day my Petey held my hand as a strange man had pierced them with a fierce-looking needle and then inserted the bars. I was so proud of myself when I barely flinched. This was years before piercings became commonplace and my various nipple ornaments often brought gasps of surprise when revealed for the first time. As I stood there I twiddled the rings reminiscing about the things Petey, and others, had done to them over the years. It was those memories which kept the rings in place when only I ever saw them. I brushed a tear from my rheumy eye, pulled my bathrobe over my shoulders, wincing at the ache then grabbed my stick and hobbled towards the bathroom.
I wondered why the master bedroom door was open so I looked in and saw Clive, still in his pyjamas, going through his mother's dressing table drawers. He had a lacy red brassiere in one hand and was retrieving a matching pair of panties with the other.
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