My sobs had subsided to sniffs, and she gave me a paper towel from the table. “Wipe your eyes with that, and then hold it on your knee, I’ll be straight back” I did as she said, and looked up as she came out through the patio doors, a full pitcher of iced lemonade and two glasses in one hand, a first-aid kit in the other, and watched as she bent down to put everything on the table. Still bending over, she opened the kit, took out some gauze, cleanser, and a pad-bandage, and set them on the table. I couldn’t help looking at her – her robe was still loosely tied at the waist, but it was open wide at the top, and I could see her lovely breasts so clearly. I felt quite giddy. I liked what I was seeing – and knew very well what was under the bikini bottoms as well. I mean, you show me a ten-year old who hasn’t found at least one of his dad’s Playboy magazines and I’ll show you a kid who hasn’t looked. But the breasts in the Playboys were just pictures on paper. These were 100% real and. I had bought new things and brought the best of my existing. Underwear to enflame, I laughed to myself. God, but I hoped it would. I knew how much she liked silk and lace. I knew by then how much she wanted femininity. I spread a new nightdress out on the bed, then I picked it up and held it to myself, examining myself in the full length mirror. Its deep crimson silk shone in the fading afternoon light. I put it back on the bed and undressed. I put my dirty clothes in a bag and hid them. The shower cubicle was larger and the shower hard and warm. I luxuriated in it, washing my hair twice and taking the opportunity to check my shaving was adequate. One month ago “I have to be in London in about 5 weeks time” No build up, this was the first thing she said when she got online. “Oh, wow.” “I want to meet you.” “I’d like that too.” “Well, let’s then?” “Oh, god, yes, please.” “I’ll let you know the dates.” “Wonderful.” “Where’s my email?” “Oh, I simply haven’t had time.” “Hmmmm” “I am.
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