Sarah looked around her room. Clothes were tossed in piles on the floor. Over near a pair of sloppy runners there was a balled up pair of tube socks and a garment she didn't recognize. It turned out to be a smelly jockstrap that had the name 'SARAH MCMILLAN' stenciled on the waistband. Sarah knew why guys wore jockstraps so she immediately pulled down the baggy pyjama bottoms she was wearing. Yep, she still had a pussy, yet why, she asked, did she wear a jockstrap.
She sat on the bed and felt something under the covers. She reached into the blankets and pulled out a copy of a catalogue for a store called Victor's Secret and a pair of Hanes tighty-whities. The underwear was encrusted around the fly opening with what Sarah guessed was cum. Sarah picked up the catalogue, some of the pages of it where stuck together, but they all showed men wearing bras, panties, stockings and garter belts.
She felt a warm tingle between her legs and she instinctively reached into her pyjama bottoms. Just then her cell phone rang -- it was Biff.
