She told me that she had brought a change of clothes so I shouldn't worry, and that she would meet me at the restaurant at the "usual time". At "the usual time" let me know that nothing was going on, so I left work and went to the restaurant and grabbed a table in the corner where we usually sit. It was then that I checked my text messages and she had sent a text telling me that she was bringing a guy from work with her; a guy who was interested in hearing this band. When they arrived my wife was wearing one of my of her dresses: Thin straps, low cut (not allowing a bra) but long and flowing. I met the guy, her boss, and he seemed nice enough and we had dinner and listened to the band while making small talk. During a break between the sets Tom excused himself and I had a chance to talk privately, for the first time, with my wife. I told her how great she looked and she mentioned "Thank you! Oh and guess what? I'm not wearing a thing under my dress."Needless to say, this was quite. Elizabeth’s eyes had slid to a pair of jewels about the size of a large tomatoes, when a giant hand came to hide what Mortimer thought of as his inadequate equipment from her gaze.Elizabeth felt strength coursing into her body from somewhere and got a deep breath of air into her lungs. She’d never seen anything so magnificent in her life and she wasn’t finished looking at it. She reached out and tried to move his hand. It was like trying to move an ox.“Move your hand!” she ordered, her voice raspy.Mortimer, used to following orders from a woman, did as he was ordered.“Mercy me,” sighed Elizabeth as she saw it again. “I had no idea!”“I can’t help it,” he sighed. “I was born that way, I guess. It’s been my curse all my life.”“Whatever are you talking about?” asked Elizabeth.“None of the girls will have anything to do with me, because it’s so small,” explained Mortimer.“Small?!” she squeaked. “That’s not small!” She tore her gaze from the object of interest and looked at his face. “It’s.
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