"This isn't mine" snapped George. "Has mycase been mixed up with someone else's?" But no, the rest of thecontents were clearly his. Faced with the prospect of sleeping raw orwearing the nightdress, he chose the latter option; even donning thematching panties that fell to the floor as he unfolded the nightdress.Shamefacedly he climbed into bed and fell asleep, only to experience themost lurid dreams that featured his new pink car being driven by abeautiful blonde girl at high speed through the countryside.In spite of his dreams, George felt quite refreshed when he awoke thenext morning. Nature called and he stumbled into the bathroom. Only thendid he remember what he was wearing. Pulling the hem of his nightdressaround his waist and slipping his panties down to his ankles, George satdown on the toilet. Although he would, of course, have normally stood tocarry out his business, for some reason he felt compelled to squat.Crossing to the hand-basin, George washed his hands and cleaned. She shook her head, dismissing the tone. She adored this man, there was nothing wrong with his tone, something inside of her told her.He smiled at her briefly and gave her a kiss. The passion in his kiss helped her feel a bit better, but it left her wanting more. His lips left hers and then he simply turned and started walking back the way they had come, silently fading into the night.She watched him leave, then turned and walked the rest of the way to the farmhouse. She opened the door as quietly as she could, knowing her father would be asleep, and crept inside. As the door closed, she heard his voice come to her."Who was that boy?"She jumped, then turned around. He was seated at the kitchen table, his eyes watching her in the dying light of the fire in the fireplace. His face looked angry."He was no one, poppa," she said, trying to calm him. "I met him at the dance is all. Nothing happened, he just walked me home while we talked."He stared at her for what seemed like forever to.
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