The Bell Curve free porn video

She had beautiful eyes. Warm, liquid brown eyes that that showed her eagerness while they bored into your soul. She was stretched languidly on the couch, her trim belly bare and her legs spread wide in invitation. I had been neglecting her terribly, long hours at work and no time for her, yet there she lay there begging me to come over and stroke her body. I felt like a cad as I stood there. "OK girl, I'll take you for a walk." Tail wagging furiously my dog leaped off the couch and headed for the leash that hung by the front door. I could barely get the harness fastened her body was wiggling so. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, the sun shining and a gentle breeze blowing. The trees were just turning that spring green that heralds the end of winter. The spring rain had ceased a few days ago and the ground was dry enough to break out the lawnmower and lop off the precocious blades that stuck up a few inches above the rest of their fellows. The first warm weekend of spring, screws the lawnmower, Millie wanted to take a walk and I wasn't going to disappoint her. Well, to be truthful Millie wanted to take a run, and when seventy pounds of eager Pitt Bull wants to run it can be hard on your arms. As we hit the sidewalk I broke into a nice, easy jog and had just gotten into rhythm when I was abruptly spun around. The leash was now attached to an immovable object that was adding a stream of liquid fertilizer to my neighbors lawn. Women, human or canine, they're just plain fickle! Her business completed we continued down the street at a brisk pace. I swear I could see the energy shedding in a slipstream behind her eager body as she somehow managed to sniff every interesting plant, bush and tree without breaking stride. I don't know how she does that; one of nature's miracles, I guess. By the time we hit the second block she had slowed down, for which I was grateful. If Millie hadn't been getting her accustomed walks over the winter then neither had I, I was breathing rather hard and knew I was going to have to do something about the incipient spare tire around my middle. By the time we turned the corner my breathing had returned to normal and Millie gave me a couple of pauses to catch my breath while she fertilized another lawn or two. I stood there trying to read the sign at the end of the block in vain - must be time to visit the optometrist again, I couldn't quite make out the letters. As we approached the corner I was able to make out the letters: YARD SALE. Ah hah! A surer sign of spring than the first robin, the first yard sale! It was easy to see where it was being held, three houses down the lawn was covered in tables and the tables were covered in clothes, dishes and a thousand things that had accumulated in the house that were no longer needed. There was no one around as I approached, but I browsed through the tables while Millie sniffed the table legs and various interesting spots on the lawn. Being a smart dog, she eventually wandered into the shadow of one of the tables and curled up while I looked around. I had made a small pile objects on the porch steps. Some tools, a nice picture and a few dress shirts that should fit me, I really love finding a bargain. When the door of the house swung open and a couple of pounds of white fluff came shooting down the stairs, yapping furiously. Millie was up and running in a Millie-second (sorry - I couldn't resist) to play with the newcomer. I need to pause here and talk about the reaction Millie elicits in strangers. Millie is the sweetest , most gentle dog I have ever known. She still thinks that she's a lap dog, even if she weight seventy pounds. She had come into my life when her mother committed suicide by leaping over a porch railing with her leash still attached - sadly not even a Pit Bull's neck can withstand that kind of punishment - and I was unable to resist the little ball of fur that my friend brought over to the house. He begged me to take one of the pups and I couldn't refuse. She fit into the palm of my had comfortably back then. She was half the size of Carmel the cat, who bossed her around unmercifully. Pit Bulls have a bad rep, and there are certainly those who train them to be nasty or fighters, but they can be loving pets as well. I had been very careful to train her not to be aggressive and had succeeded. If the leader of the pack is the Alpha Dog then Millie is the Omega. A couple of years ago I had watched while a friend's border collie had leaped up and taken the food right out of Millie's mouth and all she did was look at me with those pleading eyes, then settle down for a nap. Millie was heartbroken when Carmel passed on a while back, she kept searching the house for days. Be that as it may, I'll resume my tale with my Pitt Bull streaking toward a little piece of fluff that I assumed was a dog in disguise. Strangers tend to get rather upset when this sort of thing happens. I had relaxed my grip on the leash as I browsed and it was no great trick for Millie to leave me standing there. The two dogs met halfway, but Millie was moving too fast to stop and had to shift gears while the piece of fluff turned on a dime and they made a second approach. This time Millie was moving slow enough when they met and the two of them spun around in paroxysms of doggie joy, sniffing and barking with tails wagging. If you are one of those people who insist on talking about 'dog years' then you might say the woman on the porch was no bigger than her pet in 'Human Inches'. If the top of her head was five feet off the ground it was only because her ample grey hair got her there. Think Granny Clampett from the Beverly Hillbillies and you have the picture. She was looking rather pale and I couldn't blame her, she had just gotten a tremendous shock. Dog owners in general love their pets, but I have found that older women with little dogs are particularly devoted to their canine companions. When it looks like Fifi (little dogs like that are ALWAYS called Fifi) is about to become lunch for some growling monster a woman is entitled to be upset. "They seem to like each other." I offered mildly. "So they do." She replied, still looking more than a bit tentative. The ball of fluff was eagerly investigating under Millie's tail. He had to stand on his hind feet to reach, but reach he did. Put me in mind of Eric Bogle's song "Little Gomez", wherein a Chihuahua valiantly tries to cover a St. Bernard. "Would you believe me if I said she's a friendly dog and not a monster?" "I suppose I have to." The ball of fluff was now licking Millie's belly as she lay spread-eagled on the ground. "That is a Pitt Bull, isn't it?" "Yeah, she is. I know - bad rep, but Millie's a sweetie. She wouldn't hurt a fly." "It's not the flies I'm worried about, but Max seems to like her even if she is a bit out of his weight class." So I lied - but he still looked like a Fifi to me. No way to tell the sex under all that hair, anyway. "I'm sorry if Millie scared you, I should have had a better hold on her leash." "My heart restarted all by itself, young man. I try not to think in stereotypes, but I must admit when I saw Millie charging for Max I betrayed my principals. Now that I'm a bit calmer I can see she's a very pretty dog. Why don't you come up and sit down while the two of them play, it would be a shame to let them miss their fun, wouldn't it?" "It would be a pleasure. My name is Gus and I live a couple of blocks over." "You can call me Sarah, after all it's my name." "Quite a collection you have here, Sarah." "Not mine - my tenants ran out on me and left everything behind. You get all kinds when you're a landlord, heaven knows. They seemed like a nice couple when they moved in, but they were always fighting and screaming. I was just about to throw them out so I could get a little peace when they disappeared. Would you believe counterfeiters? I figured that by the time the detectives stopped dropping by to find out if they'd come back I was pretty safe selling off their stuff. Doubt it will pay the back rent, though." "Ah hah! Somehow I couldn't picture you wearing any of those bikinis on the table." "The picture would be in black and white if it existed, Gus. About 40 years ago I would have been happy to wear any of them - if the prudes didn't try to lynch me, that is - but my Harold wouldn't have let me out of the house dressed like that. He'd have kept me in the bedroom and I wouldn't have been wearing it for too long, I can tell you. Don't look so shocked, I take my feisty pills every morning and try to say six outrageous things before lunch every day." "Darn, I don't have my calculator with me. Can I keep track on the back of an envelope or something?" "I'll happily tattoo it into your hide with a rusty knitting needle. There, I only have four left and I hit my quota." "Now, knitting needles sound more like what I would expect from your obvious maturity. Tell you what - model one of those bikinis for me and you'll fill your quota for the week." "You tempt me, Gus, if for no other reason than to teach you a lesson. However, Christine was considerably more Rubenesque than I, I'd have to wrap the halter around myself a couple of times and it would ruin the effect.." "Truly a shame. Maybe you can find something that fits at someone else's garage sale." "I got enough junk around here without finding more!" Just then a car pulled up in front of the house. "Millie! Cookie, Millie!" Millie came up the stairs and stood expectantly. I didn't want to scare off her customers, so I fished out the bag of doggie treats from my pocket and tossed them to her one by one, retrieving the leash while she was chewing. I broke one in half and gave it to Max, who revealed two brown eyes and a pink mouth beneath the mass of hair. One of the pleasures of city life is sitting on the front porch with neighbors. A custom of a bygone era for the most part, but I spend an hour or more chatting with Sarah while people came and browsed, then left with the spoils. Eventually I paid for my selections and continued my walk, but I had made a new friend in the neighborhood. --- I had just started defrosting a steak for supper on Sunday night when Millie gave me the eye and sat patiently by the door. The glutton, I had given her a walk yesterday and now she wanted another. We went through the usual routine with the harness and I soon found myself passing Sarah's yard sale. The selection was considerably thinner than the day before, but there were still quite a few shirts and pants that might be worth having, especially since there was a HALF PRICE sign stuck on the end of the table. "Well, if it ain't Millie and her Human." Sarah opened the door and called for Max. Soon the two were frolicking and I found myself sitting on the porch with an iced tea in my hand. "People just aren't cooperating, Gus. Look at all the stuff I have left." "Well, I'll take the clothes off your hands, Sarah. After all, who can resist half price?" "Tell you what, ten bucks and the lot of them are yours." "You've got a deal. That is if whoever that is that just pulled up doesn't want them. I wouldn't want to cheat you out of a profit if someone else is willing to pay." "Relax. That's just Dawn, my son's ex. She came over to help me put away the tables." "Hey - its afternoon, you don't have to be saying anything outrageous until tomorrow morning." "I had my quota by ten this morning, sonny, so don't tease an old woman. She may have divorced my son but I wouldn't let her divorce me. Sam's off in some godforsaken hellhole trying to find oil and get rich, so he never visits his old mamma, but Dawn is the daughter I never had." The dogs abandoned their play to investigate the newcomer. She was immediately down on her knees to greet the dogs and somehow managed to pet both of them at the same time even though they were orbiting around her. They both plainly found her irresistible. The orbit decayed until Millie was once again spread-eagled and waiting for scratching while Max sniffed her tail again. In seconds her leg was twitching as Dawn found that spot that drives dogs wild. I found myself with an urge to do a bit of twitching myself. A pair of short shorts did nothing to hide her long and shapely legs as she knelt on the ground, and her T- shirt molded itself around her breasts quite nicely while leaving her exquisite navel exposed. She had short, dark hair and long, dangly earrings that sparkled and flashed in the afternoon sun as she scratched Millie. I wouldn't mind taking her home from the yard sale along with the clothes. "I hope I don't offend you by saying your son must have his priorities a little out of whack." "He's a greedy son of a bitch, and a Republican to boot, but we can't all be perfect. Never could figure where we went wrong with that one." She paused, then called to Dawn "You're going to spoil the poor dog rotten, girl. come up here and meet Gus. "HI Gus. I like your puppy." "If you think she' a puppy I'd hate to see what you consider a big dog." St. Bernards are a good place to start. Matter of fact I wouldn't mind seeing one coming down the street with a keg around her neck. I'm parched." "I can take a hint!" replied Sarah, and went inside for a glass. "Seriously," Dawn continued, "She's a love. What's her name?" "Millie. Sit down and you'll find out the still considers herself a lap dog." She sat and we were soon joined by our canine companions. Try as she might, Millie couldn't find enough lap to accommodate her, so she curled up at Dawn's feet and we spent a companionable time on the front porch waiting for customers that never came. Eventually it was time to break down the tables and I stayed to help. I soon realized that I wouldn't be able to carry all my new clothes home, so Dawn offered to take them home for me. Being no fool I quickly accepted. She even helped me bring in the boxes we had packed up, Millie cavorting around us and threatening to trip us at any second as we lugged boxes up the porch steps. . "Nice place, Gus." "You wouldn't say that if you saw the upstairs. There's a truly prodigious pile of clothes covered in dog hair waiting for the washer. Damn good thing Millie has short hair or I'd look like I was wearing a fur coat every time I sat on the couch." "Millie, he's insulting you!" She sat on the couch and began to scratch my furry friend's head. "I love you even if your master's an old grouch." She looked at me. "Apologize, you old grouch. You've hurt her feelings!" "Yeah, I can see she' s all broken up." Millie was splayed out and kicking as she got her tummy rub. "You're going to spoil my dog if you keep that up. She's going to expect me to rub her all day long if you keep that up." "And she deserves it! Here, take over for a minute, my hand is getting tired." "My point exactly." I sat on the couch beside her and took over before those liquid brown eyes could do their "Love Me" routine. Wait a minute! How did it happen that a woman I have known for only a couple of hours just invited me to sit beside her on my own couch? Not that I was going to object, mind you, especially since the warmth of her body was seeping into mine as our hips touched. Nice. One thing led to another and she stayed for dinner, lucky there was enough steak to stretch for two. Millie was doing her attentive bit, flipping her ears while we ate. That's her refined form of begging. Unfortunately for her I wasn't paying her any mind - I had my attention firmly centered on Dawn. Amazing what you can pick up at a garage sale! ---- My work reprieve ended Monday morning. Someone in East Jehunga had screwed up their system so badly they couldn't unscrew it without help. Since I was on rotation I got stuck, so I quickly went home and packed, then carted Millie off to Doggie Gaol (The actual name some overly educated medieval scholar hung on his kennel), trying my best to ignore her pleading as I walked away. Talk about guilt! The problem turned out to be a bear, it was late Friday when I arrived home, far too late to go bail for Millie. Saturday morning I woke up late and went to fetch my lady home, but when I reached into the drawer for new socks and underwear the cupboard was bare and so was I. Between the laundry pile and the unexpected trip out of town I was fresh out of underwear. No socks, no shorts, no handkerchiefs. So I did what any red blooded man would do and dug into the dirty laundry basket. That was a very short lived idea, after a couple of weeks the contents were too ripe for even my relaxed standards. I was trying to decide if I could get away with wearing my swimming suit while I broke Millie out of Doggie Gaol when I remembered my new clothes, still in boxes in the living room. I padded down and started opening the boxes and was surprised to find the first one filled with skirts and blouses. That crafty old lady! Sarah had said I could have all the clothes for ten bucks, and guess I got my money's worth. However, she stuck me with ALL of the clothes so it was now my problem to get rid of the ones I couldn't use! I kept opening boxes - nightgowns, stockings, shoes, bras, panties. Just great!. How had I not noticed how many boxes there were? So OK, Dawn had distracted me, I didn't care how many boxes there were last weekend. At last, shirts and pants, I was getting closer! Not close enough, though. That was the last box. That wily old lady had, pulled a fast one on me. One lousy box of men's clothes and (one? two? three?) nine boxes of women's things. I think I'm going to hire her to negotiate my next raise, she would make one hell of an agent! So OK, we finally got to the point in this story you've been waiting for - the point were it occurred to me that nobody was going to notice that I was wearing panties under my shorts. Well, you know it was going to happen, but back then I didn't. I went back upstairs in a grump and put on my swimming suit and a T-shirt. I rustled up breakfast and was headed out the door when I realized I didn't have my wallet. No place to put it in my trunks. I was damned if I was going to carry it in my hand with a joyous pit bull dragging me on her leash, so I once again went upstairs. It was getting hot by then so I put on a pair of denim shorts - the only shorts I had clean - and once again headed downstairs. I went about three steps when I realized that the rough fabric and my tender flesh did not go well together. By the time I reached the front door I was seriously concerned for my manhood, and that, dear readers, is when inspiration struck. Talk about irony - the only way I could reasonably protect my manhood was by putting on a woman's underwear. It wasn't quite that easily accomplished, mind you. I felt like one of those cartoon characters with a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, fighting it out for the poor sucker's soul. To this day I can't tell you which one of them won the battle, but eventually I pulled out a pair of violet panties with little blue flowers on them. The woman must have liked lace, because every stinking pair had lace trim or some sort of peek-a-boo ornament on them. I vaguely remember wishing that Sarah's tenant hadn't had such awful taste, but that's about the only thing I remember about my first few seconds in panties. No blinding revelation of suppressed femininity, no crushing wave of guilt, only a mild relief that I was no longer in intimate contact with a metal zipper. The panties were a little loose, she must have had bigger hips than I have, but they stayed in place. I can also remember being surprised at how easily my genitals settled into the panties, I would like to think I am rather well endowed, but there was plenty of room for them to settle comfortably inside the nylon. It was almost an afterthought when I tried on a pair of sandals. Were they hers or his? Who can tell, they were plain brown leather and a fit just right. I hate wearing shoes with no socks on, they always feel so clammy. While I was enroute to the Doggy Gaol when I realized that every time I shifted in my seat the panties I was wearing clung to my bottom, and it was a kind of neat feeling. Getting out of the car provoked a number of pleasant shiftings and slidings of the nylon under my shorts. Funny, I hadn't really expected to notice any difference just because the panties were made for a woman, after all they were basically the same piece of apparel no matter the sex of the wearer. Millie quickly forgave me for throwing her in the lockup and within seconds I was dragged headlong out of the Kennel office to the car. My hastily donned sandals were no match for the traction she exerted. Have you ever tried to drive with 75 pounds of overjoyed dog trying to make up for a week of missed love? I made it back to the neighborhood in one piece (I think I didn't _really_ run that last red light, but with Millie licking my face it was hard to tell). As I passed Sarah's place, the lawn now a pristine green instead of a jumble of sale tables. I saw Dawn's car parked out front, so I pulled up behind it. Millie was out the car door before I could snag her leash and bounded up the porch steps before I had hit the curb. I didn't even have time to ring the doorbell before Dawn's face appeared behind the screen. "Don't you ever listen to your messages, Mister?" I've been calling all week and not a word! Come in Millie, you're welcome but I'm not so sure of this big lunk behind you." "Hey, I've been out of town. I got home at 11:30 last night and wasn't about to check my messages." "So why didn't you call this morning?" "I had to spring Millie from the Doggie Gaol." "You cad! You'd let this darling girl sleep on a cold, concrete floor behind a chain link fence and pine for her master all week. How could you?" "Hey, it's a White Collar lockup. Literally! Nice rugs, playtime, popcorn and movies on a bed every Tuesday and Thursday. She never even noticed I was gone. "Nonsense! I would have taken her and given her the love she needs, wouldn't I Millie? You should have called." "I don't have your number, and I'd at least want to take you out to dinner before imposing on you." "I love sea food!" Do you always greet men you've known for less than a week with like this? "Dawn!" interrupted Sarah. "Let the poor man sit down before you talk his head off! What would the neighbors think if it went rolling down the street and landed in the gutter?" "We don't have gutters, mother. They'd just think some ferocious Pit Bull had chewed up the rest of the body and the head was all that was left. Everyone knows how vicious these dogs are." Millie was curled up with her buddy Max in front of the fireplace. Yeah, some fighting dog. "Anyway," Dawn continued, "We were just going out for seafood so there's need for Gus to come in. Your car or mine, Gus? "Wha?" Wait a minute. Things like this don't happen to me. "Ahhh? What about the dogs?" "I'll watch them, Gus." Sarah offered. "See, it's all set. Let's go, I can taste those crab legs now!" That pretty much set the tone for the day. The crab legs were good and Dawn's company was even better. I just blew off my plans for the day and spent it with her. I had never met anyone quite like Dawn, vivacious, smart, talkative, funny, sympathetic and totally outrageous. Some of the stories she told had me practically falling on the floor with laughter. I thought I was a Liberal (proudly spelled with a capital "L") but Dawn's radical views made me think I had been spelling it with a "W". I thought I had led an eventful life, I've been around the world a couple of times and seen and done some amazing things but Dawn was able to match me story for story. In fact, I'm rather glad I met her after her "sex, drugs and Rock & Roll" period. We spent the afternoon at the Little Theater watching movies I would never in a million years seen without her insistence. Art films. With subtitles. Who would have thunk it? When we got back Sarah had the table set for three - was she clairvoyant or was it that obvious we were besotted with each other? We spent a long and delicious time over the meal, Sarah was a wonderful cook, then a lazy few hours on the front porch just talking. Exquisite! As the sky was turning a beautiful red I realized that Millie was doing her "I want to go for a walk and piddle on the every tree and lamp post on the street" dance, so I tried to excuse myself. Dawn was having none of it, she returned with both leashes and we set out for the park with the dogs. If any of the neighbors were peeking out of their windows they must have had a good laugh, especially since I had all two and a half pounds of Max at the end of the string he used for a leash while Dawn held the webbed tether needed to keep Millie somewhere close by when she wanted to be elsewhere. One of the things that sold the house I lived in was its proximity to the park and trails that follow the River. Millie and I had tramped all of them and knew all the best places for a dog who wanted to have fun in the city. We passed the baseball diamond, where it must have been a close game because they were still playing as the light faded, and struck out over the blacktop path along the river. We reached the bridge over the canal and paused to study the water as we leaned against the rail. When I reached out and put my arm around her she just snuggled in closer and we watched the sun set over the river where it crossed the Canal that crossed the river, then continued hand in hand along the path. We sat on a bench and let the dogs run free since we were in a rather deserted area of the park. If you're from some big city I guess the idea of sitting and snuggling in a deserted park would seem to be an invitation to a mugging, but this is not the Big City. Besides, what mugger in his right mind would take on someone walking a Pit Bull? The dogs were soon in the water, frolicking and chasing the few ducks that were hanging around. The scene was lit by the far off light of the expressway bridge as it crossed the river, providing a surreal and romantic effect. Other than the distant sound of the car tires as they hit the joints of the bridge it was as peaceful a night as you could ever wish for. "Are you a gentleman?" murmured Dawn. "I try to be. Why do you ask?" "Because if you're a gentleman I'm going to go skinny dipping with the dogs." With that she stood up and tossed her sandals off her feet, skinned out of her T-shirt and dropped her shorts to the ground. She turned her back to me. "Would you unhook me?" she asked. I was speechless. I fumbled with the snaps and her bra fell forward as the tension was released. She turned around and dropped it in my lap as she shucked her panties. "Join me?" What the hell? If she could do it then so could I. I repeated her performance, kicking free of the sandals, flinging off my shirt and dropping my shorts. Only when they hit the ground did I remember what I was wearing underneath them. By now the feel of nylon was perfectly comfortable and natural. "My, my! I thought I was the one who was going to be offering the surprises tonight. You are a man of unexpected depths, Gus." "Well, since you gave them to me I thought it would be polite to wear them for you." "Me?" "Yeah, all those boxes of clothes from the yard sale. I'm a very frugal guy, since I bought them I figured I ought to get some use out of them." "You're wearing panties because you're a cheapskate?" 'We who know the value of money prefer to think of it as thrift, or perhaps prudence. Cheapskate is such a negative term, don't you think? "Right. You going to take them off or walk home sopping wet?" "I dropped my panties and we joined the dogs in the water. --- It had been a long time since I had woken up with someone else in bed besides Millie. I was probably going to be in the dog house with her because three is company no matter how good a friend she might be. Dawn was snuggled up close to me and my hand was cupping her delicious breast. Her deep breathing began to change and soon she was stirring in my embrace. "Are you a gentleman?" came her sleepy voice. "After last night you have to ask?" "Mmmmm? A gentleman does wait when a lady is not prepared. You do have an imaginative way of making the waiting very pleasant. We'll have to do some shopping today so we don't have to wait any longer. But that was not what I was asking about." "Pray elucidate, dear lady." "Save the bull for when I'm awake, good sir. A gentleman is one who fixes his lady breakfast." "That would mean I have to get out of bed, and that means I would have to let go of your body. I really don't want to do that just yet." My fingers had been stroking her nipples for the last few minutes. "See - your biscuits are rising even as we speak. We wouldn't want to let them fall." "Mmmm? I can see that my biscuits aren't the only things rising. Too bad we don't have any cupcake wrappers so you could put them in the oven." "All in good time. I'd rather have breakfast in bed before we eat." --- An hour or so later found me, wrapped in my robe, stirring up pancakes in the kitchen while the shower ran above. I flipped the switch on the coffee maker as the water stopped singing in the pipes and plugged in the griddle. A few minutes later Dawn appeared. There's something very sexy and appealing about woman wearing your bathrobe, especially when she's nibbling at your neck. There's something to be said for tall woman. "Marry me. This is the style of living I want to become accustomed to." "Oh! This is so sudden!" I put on my best melodramatic voice, about an octave higher than usual. "What will we tell my dear, aged mother?" "She can move in with my dear, aged, ex mother-in-law and the two of them can play mah-jongg while they slip off into their dotage. Then you can ply me with food and sex until I burst." "Even when I'm halfway around the world fixing some recalcitrant machine so I can afford to buy flour for the pancakes? "Can Millie cook?" "We have a deal, I buy the food, she eats it. She refused to go when I sent her to cooking school. She thought it sounded too much like the obedience classes I made her go through." "Darn, we'll have to work in it." "Eat while you're scheming, the pancakes are ready." Conversation lapsed for a few minutes while we did justice to the pancakes, but eventually Dawn licked the last of the syrup from her lips. "I couldn't see the color last night, but you look cute in purple panties." "And you look even cuter without your panties." "Do you wear them all the time?" "I've been known to change them when they get stiff." "You are the most exasperating man! You know what I meant." "Today will be my second day in panties. I wore them because I ran out of underwear with last week's unexpected trip." "Well, you did warn me that the second floor was messy, now I believe you. It will take all day just to haul that pile of laundry baskets down to the washer." "And whose fault is that? I was intending to do laundry yesterday but I was kidnapped, so I will again dip into my secret stash. Can I offer you a pair of panties, perhaps a bra? Or would you rather just run around naked and turn me on?" "I've never had a lover offer to let me wear his bra before. You do have an interesting way of seducing women." "Creativity. After those art films yesterday I knew you were a woman who appreciates the absurd." "I certainly would look absurd if I wore one of those bras. Christine was several sizes larger than me, so you'll have to wear them yourself to get your money's worth." She arose and went into the living room. Digging through the boxes she found a wraparound skirt and a pair of panties. "Got a safety pin somewhere? I'll just have to make do until I get home." "Sure, right here in the drawer." She pinned the panties so they would stay on and donned the skirt. "Not that I'm complaining, but if you go out without a shirt it might cause a traffic jam." "Good thing Christine was partial to tube tops. Got another couple of safety pins?" I dug them out of the junk drawer and she made some swift alterations. Pretty damn good for an improvised outfit. "Here, these are for you." She threw a pair of panties and a bra at me. You need help with the hooks?" "I only unhook bras, it's in my contract." "Then I'll have to do it for you. Turn around." "Give me a break!" "Arm or leg? Would you settle for the pinkie finger? You'd look cute in that outfit. I always wanted to have a housefrau of my own." "Pushy broad. Do you always take over your lover's lives after one night in bed?" "I don't know. I've only shared a bed once before and that didn't work out to well." "You're kidding!" "No, I'm not. I don't know what made me trust you so easily, I'm not really like that. Maybe it's the way you treat Millie and Max, anyone who can earn a dog's love has to have something special. And Sarah approves of you. You've shown me I was right to trust you, too. Thank you." She said it very quietly and I took her in my arms and held her. I was beginning to appreciate just how special this woman would be in my life. --- Monday was a downer. Work seemed completely uninteresting, I couldn't keep my mind on it. That's mostly because I kept thinking of Dawn. The other distraction was my underwear. Having washed my clothes I was wearing my normal underpants and they felt wrong. I missed the clingy feel of nylon. Two lousy days in panties and now regular underwear just didn't feel right. When I got home Millie watched me as I took out a pair of blue panties and put them on. She didn't say a thing, just watched with her ears twitching. What the heck? I carted the box upstairs and put all the panties in my drawer and consigned my old underwear to the box. I liked wearing panties and who would ever know? Having made a start in cleaning up the pile of boxes, I figured I ought to at least get them out of the living room, so I took them all up to the spare bedroom and sorted through them to see what would be worth keeping. Turned out that the shoes that fit were hers. The men's shoes were too big for me so they went into the discard pile along with the men's underwear. There were many pairs of blue jeans, all of them too wide in the hips and too short in the legs. The T-shirts fit well enough so I kept them, at least the ones that didn't have those adorable big eyed kids plastered across the front of them. Then I got to the skirts. I pulled the one out of the box and my first thought was to toss it into the discard pile, but as I turned I saw myself in the mirror. There I stood, wearing only a pair of blue lace panties and holding a skirt. You have to realize that until a couple of days before I had never even entertained the notion of wearing women's clothes. Really, It had never even entered my mind, even during my abortive live-in relationship a few years ago. Sure I had seen people on talk shows and such, and you can't help but run across the odd comic in drag if you watch TV, but I just didn't care. Hell, I didn't even know that TVs made jokes about the TV at that point. I was a complete innocent. And yet, at that precise moment I could almost feel the devil and angel balancing on my shoulders. Well, why not - I liked the panties, why not try the skirt? I couldn't think of a single reason not to so I sat down on the bed and pulled it over my legs. I stood up and settled it in place and it fit tolerably well. Her hips may have been larger than mine but it seems we had a common waist size. I can't say I admired myself in the mirror, that would be a little too strong, but I did examine myself rather closely. The skirt was short, ending just above my knees. Now I count myself as somewhat accomplished in scoping out women's legs, but I found it hard to muster the detachment to scrutinize my own. I tried to tune out my hairy legs and concentrate on the other aspects. Knees not too awfully knobby but a wise man might consider a longer skirt. Man? That sounded just plain silly, even if the words remained exclusively in my own head. Anyway, would it be too much to think that without the hair my legs were rather shapely? Funny how it never occurred to me to ask that particular question before. Well, they did look pretty good. Dare I try on a pair of her high heels? Yeah, I dared and nearly landed flat on my face as I tried to back away from the mirror to see better. It was about then that the whole thing seemed just a little too strange for me. Even Millie was looking at me with a tolerantly amused look, so I took off the skirt and put it back in the box. Enough for one evening. I picked up the phone and called Dawn instead. --- Friday came at last. After four days of having to be satisfied by only her voice at the other end of the phone, Dawn invited me to her apartment, where she proved she was a fantastic cook, Perched on a stool by the kitchen island I watched as she methodically assembled several skewers of shish-ka-bob - chunks of lamb, green peppers, mushrooms, purple onion, small tomatoes and zucchini. The ingredients had been marinating all day and were dripping as she speared them and placed them on the grill on her dinky balcony. We filled the wait with small talk, trying not to behave too much like adolescent fools. We both wanted to say screw it and just screw each other, but felt compelled to behave like the mature people we were supposed to be. The anticipation of sex an ingredient I have never seen in any cookbook, but it surely improved the flavor of that meal as much as the marinade. "I made cupcakes for dessert." She informed me with a giggle. "Such a shame, I was hoping to help you put them in the oven." I replied. "I think that could be arranged. I'll take off your panties if you'll take off mine." "Deal!" She lead me to her bedroom and laughed as she took my panties off me, but she had other things on her mind besides commenting on my choice of underwear. Much later, laying in her bed in the afterglow, I felt her playing with my toes. It wasn't until my nostrils filled with the acrid smell of nail polish that I realized what she was doing. "Are you crazy!" I had meant to be more adamant, but it felt so good to be laying there while she worked on my toes. "Yup. If you're going to wear panties then you need pretty toes." "I have a hard time analyzing the logic of that statement." "Logic is forbidden for the rest of the weekend. Just keep me happy and I'll make it worth your while, fella." When she used that voice I wasn't going to argue so I closed my eyes and complied. "That stuff stinks." "You're an old grump. Give me your hand, old grump." I gave up and proffered my hand, but instead of the coolness of the polish I felt the rasp of a file as Dawn shaped my nails. "Nice hands for a man. You keep your nails very clean." "Washed 'em in a vat of industrial solvent and slathered 'em with cutting oil to keep them soft. Don't see why I should spend a fortune on beauty products when I can get them in bulk." "You should open a beauty salon. Gus' instant oil change and manicure. Did you know you're soaking in commercial grade floor cleaner, madam?" "I'm, about to release a line of epoxy makeup - guaranteed to last for three weeks or you money back - and the research lab is working on a way to recycle old tires into mascara. If it works it will clean up acres of land in old tire dumps since you women seem to use so much of the stuff." "'You women'? Do I detect a hint of supercilious disdain in your voice? "I don't think even the legendary Mel Blank could do 'supercilious disdain', even on his best day. I but made an observation in the spirit of our conversation." The sounds of her bare feet retreating across the floor were my only answer. Had I just blown it? Apparently not, because she returned in mere moments. "Close your eyes." Not a hard command to follow since they were already closed. I was very relaxed. I felt a feather touch on my eyelid, moving back and forth, which was repeated on the other side. What had I gotten into? "Open wide." I complied, or so I thought. "Not your mouth, your eyes! Wider!" I blinked as a cool, liquid something spread across my eyelid. My first thought was some slimy earthworm had settled on my lower lid. "I said keep them open. You need to listen our you'll look like a raccoon." "You're crazy!" "Serves you right for making fun of women. You're going to see just what it takes to live with mascara and eye shadow. 'You women', indeed!" Do you know how much trust it takes to let someone wave bristly brushes and drip black goop so close to your eyeballs you can't focus? Maybe not in the same class as what it took her to share my bed after being hurt, but it's up there. "You can open your eyes now, darling." "I got into this relationship with my eyes wide open, thank you." "Well, now you have something to show for it. Take a look." She held up a mirror. "Is this the right shade to go with an eight o'clock shadow? Actually, if I just looked at my eyes they looked pretty sexy. They're blue. A true blue and not the washed out gray that some people try to pass off as blue. I tried to blink sexily but the world disappeared. Oh well!" "You are truly an artist, even with a defective canvas. I hereby renounce ambitions to cosmetic manufacture and will leave that to those who have talent, such as yourself." "You do have sexy eyes. Now, let's put it to the test." We kissed. We did a great deal more than kiss, if you want to know the truth, but the makeup job survived almost intact. "See," I proclaimed, "You women have nothing to worry about." But I did. She missed, however, and other parts of my anatomy remained intact. --- Your mind does strange things when you wake up in a strange bed. I was on the road enough that strange beds aren't all that unusual, but finding someone else in that strange bed with me is rare enough I can give you an exact count. (Two, if you have to know.) I woke up disoriented, wondering what happened to Millie (My neighbor Stephanie had volunteered to let her out a couple of times while I was gone) and trying to figure out where I was. The whole thing came back to me with a rush, and I lay there amazed at how natural it seemed to be sharing a bed with Dawn, at least once my mind started working again. It had been a few years since I had been in a serious relationship. The last one had more or less faded out while we watched, neither of us knowing what to do about it. When she was offered a job on the West Coast we knew it was time. We exchange Christmas cards and that's about all that's left of what started out as the World's Greatest Love Affair. And yet here I was, smitten by a woman I had known less than two weeks. Perky, flamboyant, impulsive alternating with serious, competent and knowledgeable. A volatile mix, but one that I was growing to love. Love? Was I using the 'L-word' this quickly? I should be scared, but it just felt right. About this time I realized I needed to empty my bladder, so I got up quietly and used the bathroom. As I washed my hands I came face to face with myself in the mirror - the eye makeup was smeared and smudged and I did indeed look like a raccoon. I hesitantly touched my face, seeing the bright blue of my fingernails. The really odd thing was that it didn't seem so odd to me. I had been utterly unprepared for how good nylon panties felt, and yet in just a couple of weeks they were now the norm; I would never go back to men's underwear again. Kind of like Dawn, I found it hard to imagine life without her any more. Then nail polish, makeup, skirts - things that should have sent a real man into anguish and distress. For me they were, well, alluring; all the more so because it was so unexpected. And OK, having them be part of sex play didn't hurt. Looking at my face in the mirror I began to wonder what it would be like to have earrings. Somehow I doubted they would compliment my stubble, so I got out my travel kit and took care of the matter. "You about done in there?" My reverie was broken, so I opened the door to the bathroom. Dawn looked even better in nothing than she did in my bathrobe. She took one look at me and started singing "Rocky Raccoon". "Hey! You're the one who put this stuff on, so show me how to take it off." "In a minute, I have more urgent things to attend to. Scat!" She pushed me out the door and I heard unladylike noises that I politely ignored. I stretched out on her bed and waited, content to just must on life until she returned. Eventually I heard the door open and she called "Hey Rocky, want to learn how to do your own makeup?" "I'll settle for learning how to remove your makeup." "Title was transferred when it stuck to your ugly puss. Get in here or figure it out for yourself." "Pushy broad!" So I got my first lesson in makeup. It didn't hurt a bit, in fact it was fascinating. Removing the stuff was a pain, but I was amazed at how soft my skin felt after I was done with the moisturizing lotion. Applying the makeup was intriguing as well, it was like an watching an artist at work as she swiftly painted her face. "You do this every day?" "Not a chance, buster! Only for special occasions. The world can take me as I am, I'm not wasting time in the morning to look like some fashion model." "So I take it this is a special occasion." "Quit fishing for compliments. Let's get dressed." I don't know quite how we did it, but somehow we made an unspoken, mutual decision that we had had enough sex and one more round would be unnecessary this morning. No feeling of loss or regret for a missed opportunity, just the gentle assurance that when we were both ready again we would make love. I got my clothes out of my suitcase while she stood at her closet and selected a skirt and blouse. "What's it like to wear a skirt? I asked. "I never thought about it, really." She replied. "It's just clothes. Unless I'm doing something special like square dancing or seducing someone I just don't think about it. Of course wearing a skirt in winter keeps you aware of it while you're freezing your legs off." "I suppose it's the same for wearing a bra?" "You're full of questions so early in the morning. I don't notice my bra unless I'm not wearing it. These babies are too heavy to carry around without help." "Oh. I never thought about it that way." "You seem to have more interest in me when I'm not wearing a bra?" "That's biology. I was trying to be more intellectual. I'm trying to understand why wearing panties feels so much better than my old underwear." "Who cares? You are a very sensual man and I like that. You can wear whatever you want to and enjoy it as you wish. You tried on any of Christine's other stuff yet?" "Uh?" Damn, she was direct!" "Close your mouth, darling. Those pretty toes of yours would look just great in her blue sandals." "I tried the red ones. Damn near fell on my face." "Then you really would have to learn how to do your own makeup, but bruises are hard to cover." "Will you kiss my boo-boo if I fall?" "I suppose it's only fair after the way you kiss my boobs." "Take off your bra, I'm getting inspired. "Not until after breakfast, buster. I'm hungry." "I hunger as well, my darling, and only you can sate me." "I said after breakfast! Behave!" --- We spent the day doing nothing in particular. Millie did her little dance of joy when we arrived at my place and made a beeline for the back seat when we took her with us. We packed a picnic basket and meandered our way to a suburban park with a number of small lakes, stopping at every yard sale we passed that looked interesting. It's fortunate I drive a small car and we had the picnic basket in the trunk or we would have come home with enough bargains to fill a truck. As it is I got a few more tools, a lamp that would go very nicely in the study and some dog toys for Millie. Dawn's eyes were on the clothes, but she was very selective. "What do you think of this, Gus?" she queried as she held up a long, sand colored skirt with lace on the hem." "Uh..." "Maybe I should ask Millie, she might be more forthcoming." "I'm not too much of an expert in fashion, you know." "You'd better be if you want to wear a skirt. This one would look good on you." "Might look better on Millie." "Hey - you were the one with the questions this morning, I'm just trying to answer them." "I hadn't intended to get my answers on someone's front lawn!" "You're impossible. Come over here and let me see." I came over and she measured the skirt across my waist. "See, 1X. I thought it was your size. With your shoulders I think you'll need a ladies 2X blouse" "It's too long, see how it scrapes the ground." "Not with high heels on, I'll hold your hand while you learn to walk." "I don't see you wearing high heels." "Not for a picnic, silly. You wouldn't wear this skirt for a picnic, you'd wear a nice sun dress." "So why are you wearing a short skirt?" "You have to ask? You drool worse than poor Millie." "I can howl like her too. Wanna scratch my belly?" "Shut up and pay the kid over there for the skirt." "Me?" "What's the matter, afraid to buy your own clothes? Maybe you better call your mommy." "I think she might not understand why I need a skirt." "Then just buy it, already." So I bought, feeling like a complete fool, knowing the kid was going to ask why I wanted a skirt. I was suddenly conscious of my blue fingers and toes; It had seemed like a lark to go out with nail polish on my hands when we left the house, but now it seemed more like evidence of a crime. "See officer, its HIM - the one with the blue fingers!" He disappointed me. He just took my money and made change, then stuffed the skirt into an old plastic grocery bag. Even I knew you should fold clothes, not stuff them!. We went on to the next sale, which fortunately was run by someone who was smaller than me. This time I bought Dawn a skirt, hoping it was something she would like. I knew her size because I had snooped when she was out of the bedroom. 36D bra (I like big boobs - so sue me!), size 10 dress and 28 inch waist. I think I surprised her by getting something that fit, and she did like the skirt. Whew! So the rest of the day we ate, we swam (I was nervous about my panties in the changing room, but I changed in the toilet and stuffed them in a pocket under my wallet.), we walked the dog, we went home to my place and made love. And we talked. Talked about just about every subject in the universe; ourselves, our families, jobs, friends, hopes and dreams. I have never felt so close to another person in my life, and it was obvious that Dawn shared that feeling. For the first time in my life I simply bared my soul, there was no need to hide, to try and put on a pretty front. It was exhilarating and liberating to abandon fear and let yourself be just the unadorned you, and to listen as she confided her deepest feelings in me. In a way it was better than sex, because it didn't stop when the act was done, but kept on going somewhere in the background. Trust and vulnerability go hand in hand, we trusted each other in a way I had never experienced before. --- When I woke the next morning I didn't want it to be Sunday, because come Monday I had to be at the airport to fly to Tampa for a few days. Usually I enjoy traveling, but I felt cheated because I would be away from Dawn. Good grief! I was mooning like a teenager with raging hormones. Ridiculous! I could talk to her on the phone from Tampa just as easily as I could from home; we had agreed that we both needed to attend to the rest of our lives during the week, not spend time in the 45 minute drive between us. Pretty soon she woke our hormones started raging and I stopped worrying. I was standing by the dresser in my panties when Dawn returned from her shower. I was holding the skirt I had bought yesterday and trying to decide if I should wear it. Part of me, a part I was still coming to terms with, wanted to put it on, if only to see what it was like. Another part, the part that had just made love to a sexy woman, couldn't understand why I would even consider it. "Well, are you going to try it on?" "I don't know. What do you think?" "I'm just your lover, not your conscience. I think it would look cute but it's up to you." I made my decision and, with relief of an odd sort, stepped into the skirt. I was right, it was long enough to need high heels, so I hiked up the hem and headed for the spare room. I laid out the pairs of shoes on the top of the dresser struggled with the blue high heel sandals that matched my toenails. I stretched out my leg until the sandal emerged from the hem of my skirt. Well, did that look sexy or what? The correct answer was "Or what". A look in the mirror proved that, I did a little spin anyway and, when she had helped me up off the floor, I asked "So, what do you think?" "I think you need to practice walking before you take dancing lessons." "Can I hold you hand while I practice?" "I suppose ours is a supportive relationship. Why not?" "Well you could become a fallen woman if I stumble." "I think I've already fallen for you, Gus." "Yeah, me too. Is it too soon to say 'I love you'?" "Not if you mean it. I do, you know." Forget further dialog, we had better things to do just then. When I had my breath back I asked "So, just how far do I go with this dressing thing. I mean I look pretty funny with my chest bare." "Then pick out a blouse. Are you man enough to try on a bra?" "Somehow I never thought I would have to answer that question." "Life is full of surprises. You have me curious as to what you would look like, but it's up to you." "OK, boobs it is. Got any idea how to fake them. I suppose you never had to worry about padding your bust line." "Not since I was about eleven years old. I don' think wadded up Kleenex will work for you, 'cause it didn't work for me. My sister laughed so hard I never lived it down, at least not until my cups started to overfloweth, then she got jealous." "So I guess we need something soft and squishy. Water balloons?" "Not unless you want the experience of breaking water without being pregnant. Why not try stuffing the cups with your old underwear?" "You do carry recycling to the extremes, don't you. Anyway, I donated them to charity with the stuff I didn't want?" "Then we use some other lingerie. So, which box has the bras in it?" "They're in the top drawer." "You don't say. Do they fit?" "I still haven't gotten the nerve." "You are a very strange man." "Yeah, just look in the mirror." So I took out the first bra on the pile and fumbled my way into it. You wouldn't believe how silly it felt to try and reach around and hook the thing behind my back while Dawn was watching. I mean, a man wants to be cool and masterful when his lover's watching, right? Even if he's putting on a bra. Somehow the stupid little hooks just wouldn't line up, and I stood there flapping my arms like a chicken as I tried. "Can I make a suggestion?" "Feel free." I felt her hands warm my chest through the flimsy fabric of the bra. "That wasn't what I had in mind." "Too bad, you invited. Try turning it around and hooking it across your belly. And let out the shoulder straps, you have wider shoulders than Christine did." That worked pretty well. She adjusted the straps and we stuffed the cups. I picked out a blouse I thought would match the skirt and tried it on. The nylon of the blouse felt as good as the nylon of my panties. "You have lumpy boobs" "Hey, have I ever said anything about your pretty tits?" "Generally it comes out Mmmmm and ends in a slurp. You need to get your ears pierced, I think something long and dangly would go well with that outfit." "You tempt me, woman." "I hope so. Let's have breakfast and we can decide what to do with your face and hair." "This is getting complicated." "All part of the mystery of being a woman, my dear. You didn't expect it to be easy, did you?" "I didn't expect it, period. I was perfectly happy before you and Sarah stuck me with all Christine's clothes." "Then you'll be perfectly happy from now on. Think of it as a character building experience." "That's what my mother says when she has a job for me that I don't want to do." "Then isn't it good that you're going to enjoy learning about women - from a new perspective?" --- I learned quite a few things that day. I learned that walking down stairs in high heels is frightening, I clung to the stair rail like a sailor clinging to the ship's rail in a hurricane. I learned that the elastic straps on my bra were designed to offset the weight of my nonexistent tits. Before breakfast was half over my bra was halfway to my chin. Perky, upthrust breasts sound great in a sexy story, but this was ridiculous! So we experimented, finally settling on a baggie full of sugar wrapped in lingerie. That kept my bra in place once I got the straps adjusted, but I still had lumpy boobs. I learned that blonde hair or no, I have a stubborn beard. I learned that my skin tones are enough different from Dawn's that her limited supply of makeup did no good at all in hiding it. I learned that my medium length hair could be curled and styled into something that looked quite feminine, even if I did not. I learned that curling irons are HOT, that you suddenly develop an insane urge to scratch your face once you have makeup on, and that I was pretty darn good at putting on my own nail polish. I also learned that cuddling up with Dawn was just as much fun when I was wearing a skirt as before. No, it was a lot more fun. Very domestic, her in my arms and Millie curled up at our feet. I really liked the feeling of wearing a bra and skirt, it added a whole new dimension to daily life. I learned that bras make me horny, on myself or off Dawn. We learned that lovemaking is a lot more convenient when you're both wearing skirts, there's less to get out of the way when you're really in a hurry. We learned that if you're intent enough having Millie watch us while making love is only a minor distraction. By the time we made supper I had learned to walk in high heels without thinking about it and managed to keep my boobs from hitting door frames and such, at least most of the time. After dinner I learned that my boobs caught all too much of the food that didn't make from fork to mouth properly. I learned that dabbing at my boobs with a napkin made Dawn giggle uncontrollably. I learned that spending a day dressed as a woman was one of the most pleasurable experiences of my life. When the inevitable happened and it was time for Dawn to go home, she asked "Well, was it worth it? I know you enjoyed dressing up, that much is obvious, but how do you feel about it." "I feel charged up and relaxed at the same time. I never realized that just wearing different clothes could be so sensuous, so exciting. I suppose that will change as I get used to them, but today was something I never expected." "You have a gift for understatement, Gus. I never in my wildest dreams thought I could get turned on by a lover in a dress." "Funny I never had that problem." I paused. "Dawn?" "Yes, darling?" "Are you OK with this? Do you really want to go any further with this? Should we call this a one day fling and forget it, go back to being whatever we were before I put on this skirt?" "Could you?" "I don't know. For you maybe I could." "Gus, you're sweet. That's what made me love you, you think about me and what I need as much as you think about yourself. That's a very feminine trait, you know. When you get down to it, the feminine side of you is what drew me to you. I think I could enjoy helping bring that out in the open - that is if you want it. Can we agree on one thing though? "We had better, don't you think?" "I'm serious. If we're going to do this we need to do it all the way. I'm not going to spend my weekends indoors no matter how good you are in bed. I want to be able to go out with you no matter how you choose to dress. You're a great guy, I want you to be a great girl, too. One who doesn't hide in the house. "I won't worry about that. I may be crazy but I'm doing this willingly. Joyfully. I want to be sure that you feel the same joy I'm finding." "That's an odd way to put it. Joy? I haven't really understood what that meant since the divorce. We seem to be building something that neither one of us could have expected. Joy to the world, make a joyful noise, love and joy. I love you, but I really have to go." "I know. We'll have to talk about that sometime soon." "You're right, but we have all the time in the world." She left, taking Millie with her while I was gone. Damn! The house was lonely and deserted. I learned one final lesson that night. I learned that with enough scrubbing you can get makeup off your face, but when I got out of the shower I learned that I didn't have any nail polish remover in the house. That lead to me learning where the nearest all night drug store was and getting dressed (in pants!) to go get some. I got my own cold cream and moisturizer, too. Some lessons are easier than others. --- Monday in Tampa. I was developing a new sympathy for the addicts of this world. I was becoming a crossdressing addict. That first hit of spending the day dressed up with Dawn had unleashed a powerful craving. When I packed my bag for traveling I included a couple of skirts and blouses, along with the appropriate lingerie. It wasn't until I hit the inspection line at the airport that I had second thoughts, but what the heck, those guys weren't going to worry that I was going to hijack a plane by brandishing my bra. Oh crap! How was I going to explain the two bags of white powder in my suitcase? Sure it was only sugar, but the phrase "bag of white powder" had a connotation that wouldn't be helpful. "It's OK officer, I just use them to stuff my bra." hardly sounded convincing! Fortunately I flew enough that the inspector knew me. He even remembered my name and while he checked my suitcase he didn't dig through it, nor did he say a word about the bras and panties plainly visible in it. He did give me a smile a good deal wider than I remembered in the past, but my bag soon disappeared into the bowels of the airport and I made it to Tampa without incident. The day's work was a day's work. I enjoy doing it but you probably wouldn't care to hear the details. When I got back to the motel after dinner I eagerly changed into my new clothes, that's when the first signs of addiction hit me. You know how