in a small heap about Ayumi Hamasaki's ankles. Ayumi Hamasaki stepped back and out of the circle of discarded evening dress. "Like?" Ayumi Hamasaki raised her hands above her head and slowly turned for him. The flimsy, non-support bra was blue and nearly transparent. So were the thigh-cut panties. When Ayumi Hamasaki had turned a full 360 degrees, she watched her husband "I like," he said simply, his voice thick. His lovely, petite wife stood before him in Ayumi Hamasaki's bra, panties and -- this was a first, really -- "That's new," he said, raising his eyebrows. "The stockings." "Got the idea from Emily." She'd told him some things about Emily -- including her remarkable tongue -- but not about what Ayumi Hamasaki and Kim had Ayumi Hamasaki smiled slightly and turned to her right, then executed a majestically smooth bend from the waist. Ayumi Hamasaki's knees stayed straight, as did her back and shoulders. Ayumi Hamasaki bent lower and lower, until her forearms were wrapped around Ayumi Hamasaki's calves, her nose was against her knees and her
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