Ifelt different. Freer. Then I realized that after several days of almostcontinuous bra and girdle confinement, all I had on was a pair of pantiesand ... flowing muumuu. My breasts were singing at their freedom. Mynatural 38B's gloried in the feel of the loose top muumuu. There wasstill enough mounded shape to signify femininity, just a more joyousnatural bounce. The muumuu hung almost to mid calf so there was a lot ofswishing activity as I walked. With the coming warmth of this Parisianmorning,. When the whispering stopped, the bed creaked and I heard the rustle of clothes being taken off, more creaking, woman’s gasp followed by an unmistakable rhythm of copulating with the man on top. Afraid to make a move, I held my breath listening to the man’s grunting and panting, to woman’s begging him to be quiet, to her whispers turning into whimpers that were getting loud and untamed, to his grunts turning into growls, and to her moans joining and surpassing his in a feral howl.Once that was. More

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