Sharon's Journey - Part 1, Vivere! free porn video

"Saved your ass again, didn't I?" Ray choked down the urge to snap back at Pete Becker, his supervisor. Once again, Pete was taking the credit for correcting an error he had virtually ordered Ray to make. Ray had argued that the entry would kick out of the system and create a forced balance, but Pete had told him to do it "or else", and so he had. "It's simple," Ray thought. "Both sides of an entry have to be valid or else the system will reject it. Accounting isn't that difficult, even on an ancient system like ours." For a moment, he thought of saying something, right here, at the Controller's Department holiday party. Now would be the perfect time - here was Jocelyn Drake, the Corporate Controller, coming over to say hello. She'd love to get the lowdown on her abusive accounting manager. Ray would say something, even if Pete was 6'2" and he was only 5'6". "Good evening, gentlemen," she said. "And Happy Holidays." They all responded in kind. Ray just nodded. She was attractive, he thought - short dark hair, large brown eyes, small mouth, full lips; she was slim, and rather small-breasted, but tall and unafraid to wear high heels. Tonight she wore 4" spike heels, and he found himself staring at them. "I'm glad I ran into you," she said, turning to Pete. "I happened to see that the interim report showed a forced balance of $378,000. What was that all about?" "Entry error," he replied, easily. "I caught it on the first run and had Ray, here, correct it." "Yes, I know. I was just curious how the entry was made in the first place, because the system kicked it out when it was charged to an account that had not yet been set up." Ray glanced at Pete out of the corner of his eye. Pete shifted his stance and cleared his throat. "As I said, ma'am, an entry error. It was only on the first run." "Ray," she said, turning to face him. "Why did you make an entry to an account that hadn't yet been approved?" "I...um...was under the impression that the account would be set up by the time the entry was processed," Ray said. He could feel Pete's eyes boring into him. "I think it was a miscommunication," Pete said quickly. "Clearly. From now on, let's wait until we have formal approval, okay, boys? Enjoy the evening." She turned and walked away, and the other members of the group, sensing trouble, also drifted off. Ray tried to move away but Pete grabbed him gruffly by the shirt. "Well, thanks, asshole! Now that dyke thinks it's all my fault, just cause you didn't listen. Well, I tried to cover for you, but I'm not going down 'cause of your mistake, and it's going to show up on your performance review!" Pete stormed off, and Ray was left to wander around the ballroom by himself. It was a young division, made up mostly of people like him, twentysomethings a couple of years out of college and looking to build a career. He tried to push the discussion with Pete out of his mind by checking out the women he worked with. Sandy came by, said a breezy "hello" and kept going. She was wearing a navy blue skirt suit, much like Jocelyn Drake's, only the skirt was shorter. Sandy was gorgeous, and most of the guys in the office had a thing for her. He noticed Jessie's burgundy pumps, Brittany's sexy black ankle boots, Carla's wonderfully soft white sweater. They all smiled and kept going. He was a marked man, and no one wanted guilt by association. He slipped out of the ballroom and got his coat. No reason to stay. He walked out into the parking lot of the suburban hotel and found to his dismay that the light snow of earlier in the day had turned into a mix of snow and sleet. On top of a miserable evening and a rotten day, he was going to have a difficult drive home. Then, he saw the flat left rear tire on his car. Anger welled up in his throat. How the hell was he going to change a tire in this mess? And then he saw the flat left front tire. It had to be deliberate; it had to be Pete. He opened the door, got into the car, and broke down and cried. He'd been sobbing for a while when he heard a gentle tapping on the driver's side window, which had fogged over. His first thought was that it was Pete, come to finish him off. He glanced around for something to use as a weapon, but found nothing, and he meekly opened the door. "Looks like you could use some help," said a cheerful Jocelyn Drake. Then she saw his tear-streaked face. "Hey, it's not so bad. Can I come in and talk a little?" Without waiting for an answer, she walked around to the other side of the car and slid into the passenger seat. "I have AAA," she said. "I've already called it in." "But they won't cover me." "I know. They'll charge my account. It's okay, it's my treat." "Thanks," he said, his throat choked. He tried to fight the new wave of tears but couldn't. He was startled when she reached out and pulled him into her arms. "Sometimes," she said, her voice soothing, "things look really shitty for a while. And then all of a sudden, they get better. I know for a fact that the forced balance wasn't your fault; Becker's a cowboy, and he doesn't realize it but he just got thrown." Ray sat up and stared at her. "Come on," she said. "The tow truck is here." They got out of the car, and she went over and talked to the service guy. She slipped him a bill of some kind and he nodded and went back to his truck. "Okay!" she said to Ray, brightly. "Let's go. I'll take you home." They got into her car, a late model Mercedes. She had left it running, and it was toasty warm. Andrea Bocelli was singing on the CD player, and she turned the volume down low but did not turn it off. "It's 'Vivere'", she said as they pulled out of the lot. "'Dare to Live'. I feel like that's my personal motto." He told her where he lived in Queens, not too far from their corporate campus just over the Queens-Nassau line. "Listen, I have to ask you something," she said. "And I hope you don't think I'm being too abrupt or anything, but what do you think of them?" "Of what?" "My shoes, my stiletto heels. I saw you checking them out at the party, and when we were hugging in your car. Did you like them?" Ray was speechless. He finally broke the silence by saying the next exit on the parkway was his. When she zoomed right past, he started to protest. "Ray, darling, you are very low tonight - rotten boss, horrible day, spoiled party, vandalized car. Come back to my place, and we'll have a lovely cognac or two and talk, and you can warm up, dry out and vent." When all he could do was stare at her, she smiled and said, "Ray, 'Vivere!'". Jocelyn's place turned out to be the first floor of a gorgeous house on Gramercy Park West in Manhattan. The sleet had mercifully changed back to snow by the time they arrived, and Ray slipped his sodden shoes off and left them next to Jocelyn's heels inside the doorway. He stared at them for a moment. "You can try them if you like," she said. It took him a minute to realize she wasn't teasing him. "What size shoe do you wear?" "Um...a men's seven." "And I'm a women's eight-and-a-half. I thought we'd be about the same. Go ahead, you know you want to." She was smiling warmly now and nodding encouragement. Terrified that it all might prove a cruel joke, he gave in to the relentless pull of the beautiful, trim pumps with the pointed toe on his feet, and he slipped first his left foot and then his right into the shoes. "Bravo!" she cried. "Now show me how you walk in them." They were a little tight, but not painfully so. They were a little higher than the heels he had at home, and of much higher quality. As he walked, he unconsciously placed one foot directly in front of the other, allowing his hips to swing. "As I thought," she said with a satisfied grin. "You like to dress." He blushed and nodded. "Well, I'm sure you'd prefer a dry pair of heels, and a pair of stockings to wear with them. But first we need to get you properly relaxed." Ten minutes later, he was lying naked in a luxurious hot bubble bath, scented in lilac, sipping cognac from a large snifter. Warmed both from without and within, he felt all his cares and anger drifting away. "Do you have any particular favorites in lingerie, or should I just use my best judgment?" she called in from her bedroom. "I put myself completely in your hands." "Good girl," she said, and they both laughed. Soon, the water cooled and he laid the snifter aside and lifted himself out. She had not been surprised to find he kept himself shaved all over, but he was now very surprised to feel how much softer the bath oil made his skin. "Everything is laid out on the bed," she said, and he walked into the bedroom and gasped. First, he pulled on the tiniest ivory thong g- string, with a patch of chiffon that only just covered his small but half-erect member. As he pulled them up tightly, he felt the thong nestle into the crack of his butt and felt a wonderful little buzz from it. Next was the ivory lace bra, delicate and light. It was on in a flash and immediately filled with a pair of silicon breast forms that filled the C-cups. The ivory baby doll negligee was see-through, and he felt like it kissed him as he put it on. Ivory self-support thigh highs were next, and he could hear Jocelyn giggle as he rolled them and drew them up his smooth legs expertly. He slipped into the caribou slippers with the 2" heel, and then turned to face her. She came to him with a hairbrush and fluffed out his longish, androgynous hairdo. "Oh, my!" she said when she stepped back to admire her handiwork. Ray turned to look in the full length mirror and gasped. He looked as lovely as he felt, and standing next to him was Jocelyn, in a red satin merrywidow, red lace top thigh highs, red patent leather pumps with 4" heels and nothing to hide her very neatly trimmed bush. She slipped her arms around Ray's waist and he could feel her breasts against his back. He leaned back and felt her cheek against his. "What's your name?" she asked. "Sharon." "Mmmmm...so, so pretty. Like you, my darling. You love being Sharon, don't you?" Jocelyn kissed Sharon on the neck, then licked her earlobe. Sharon giggled. When Jocelyn reached down to yank up her thong, Sharon purred and snuggled back against her. "Slut," Jocelyn said, making Sharon giggle again. "Come, my darling," she added, taking her hand. "Come to bed." When Sharon awoke the next morning, she was alone in the queen sized bed. She moved, slightly, and felt the kiss of smooth, cool satin on her nylon-clad legs and an immediate echo of the gratifications of the night before. As the last vestiges of sleep melted away and she became increasingly aware of the heady aroma of lilacs, spent sex and perking coffee, she realized it hadn't all been a dream. In addition to the thigh highs, she still wore the negligee and the bra. The g-string lay at the foot of the bed, and when she retrieved it, the chiffon panel was caked with dried semen. "Hey, there, babydoll!" Jocelyn cooed as she entered with a breakfast tray. "Look what I brought." There was a small coffee pot and two dainty cups from the same set, yellowed slightly with age and very elegant. A matching plate held hot croissants and there were two small bowls of fruit salad. "Did you make these yourself?" Sharon asked as she picked up a croissant. Jocelyn laughed. "Good heavens, no! Me? Cook? Surely, you jest." Sharon poured cups of coffee for each of them. "You have a very dainty manner," Jocelyn said. "You must have practiced a lot. Your femme mannerisms, that is." "I guess. I didn't really think about it after a while. Living alone, I just did it." "How long have you been dressing up?" Sharon sat back and thought about it. "My older sister and her friends dressed me up one day when they were playing house. I was only four at the time, they were 9, and they said they only wanted girls there, no boys allowed. "I objected and complained until they said that if I wasn't willing to be a girl, I couldn't play at all. Anita, my sister, took out an old party dress of hers - pastel yellow, I remember - and I got into it. It had a little crinoline and a satin sash around the waist, and it fit me very nicely. Then they had me put on a pair of white tights, and I liked how they felt on me, and they finished it off with a pair of black patent leather mary janes that had been in Anita's closet for a couple of years but that she had never worn, and they fit me perfectly. "Well, a funny thing happened. After they finished making a fuss over me, which I didn't even pretend to hate, we went back to playing house, and where they had been mommy scolding the little boy, suddenly they were mommy teaching and guiding and loving the little girl. When Mom caught us, she really blasted Anita and her friend and made me change back; I was devastated, and that night, when Anita was in her room, crying because she'd been punished, I snuck in and hugged her because I'd been punished, too." "Did Anita give you the name, Sharon?" "No. They called me Tina that day. Many years later, I asked Mom if they had ever picked out a girl's name for me in case I was a girl, and she told me, yes, Sharon." Jocelyn wanted to know if she had continued dressing, but she hadn't because she and Anita were both afraid of getting caught. For years afterward, she tried to convince herself it hadn't really happened and tried to forget it altogether. "But one day, when I was twelve and home alone, sick, I felt this tremendous urge pulling me into Anita's room. I had just had my growth spurt - or at least as much of one as I was going to have - so her clothes fit me pretty well. I spent the day dressed as Anita and I loved it, and soon I started taking clothes of hers I didn't think she'd miss and dressing up when I was alone. "One night, she came to my room and closed the door, and she asked me if I had taken some of her things. She was real specific, but she didn't seem angry. I told her I had, and I started to cry. "She hugged me and said she was glad I still liked to wear her things, but that I had taken a couple of things she really liked. We worked out a deal, where any time she decided she no longer wanted something, she would offer it to me. When I saw something in an ad or on one of her friends that I wanted, I would tell her and she would get it for me." While still in college, Sharon had lost both parents in a car accident. After their grieving time had passed, Sharon thought that it would be fun to dress up around the house. To her stunned amazement, Anita was very upset. "Look, I don't care if you do that stuff in private," she said, "but for God's sake, my friends come in here. I don't need them knowing my brother is a freak!" And so for the second time, Sharon tried to bury her femme self. She purged all of her femme clothing and did not dress up again until earlier this year, when the job and having an apartment gave her the means and the privacy to dress up without interference. And seeing all those pretty young women dressed nicely for work every day provided lots of fashion ideas, while ordering on the internet, which was becoming a big business, made it easy to shop. By now they had finished breakfast, and Jocelyn, wearing a black lace negligee set, set the tray aside and slid over to cuddle with Sharon. "If you could change any one thing about our lovemaking last night," Jocelyn asked, "what would it be?" Sharon blushed deeply, causing Jocelyn to giggle and ask, "What?" "I wish I had real breasts so that I could feel what you feel when you kissed and licked my nipples like I kissed and licked yours." Jocelyn nodded her understanding. "So," Sharon said, anxious to turn the questioning away from herself for a while. "What exactly do you consider yourself? Lesbian? Bi?" Jocelyn laughed heartily at that. "I'm not really sure. I've had a number of lesbian encounters, because I generally prefer women to men as friends and lovers. But somehow, lesbian sex always seemed incomplete to me. What can I say? I love cocks - for both sucking and fucking. I just never seem to like whom they're attached to...until last night, that is. What about you?" "I love women. I always liked girls, even when I was at an age when I was supposed to hate them. I've always liked being with them, and I loved being one of them. I guess that makes me a lesbian, doesn't it?" "Yes. One with a very helpful and delightful physical appendage!" They hugged and giggled and kissed. They hugged some more. "Please stay the rest of the weekend, my darling," Jocelyn said. "You have no idea how much happiness you're bringing me." After showering, Sharon was led back into Jocelyn's bedroom where she was given the pick of whatever lingerie she wanted to wear. She opted for a pair of pink lace boyshorts and a matching bra, the latter which Jocelyn filled out with the same breast forms from the night before. A pink sweater and black miniskirt, with suntan pantyhose and black suede ankle boots made a nice ensemble, and Jocelyn was pleased, when she sat her prot?g? down at her makeup table, to find that Sharon was already well-schooled in that particular art. Jocelyn tweezed Sharon's eyebrows a bit and also gave her some nice clip-on earrings "for now". As they emerged from the apartment, Gramercy Park was a winter wonderland, the bare tree branches caked in ice and the park blanketed in white. The sun was out and the sidewalk had been cleared, but the girls walked very carefully in their heels, just in case. Jocelyn hailed a cab. "Where are we going?" Sharon asked. "So Ho. It's my favorite place to shop. Broadway and Prince," she added to the driver. A few minutes later, they emerged from the cab in an area of the city that was still undergoing an enormous transformation. As they walked from store to store, Sharon noticed that men checked them both out, and she felt a little rush from it. It was still early in their travels when she realized just how significant a day it was going to be; Jocelyn led her into a small boutique that specialized in earrings and did ear piercing. Sharon hesitated, and Jocelyn took her aside. "You know you want to," she said. "But...it will be permanent. People at work will see. Everyone will see." "First of all, even guys have their ears pierced these days, so it's no big deal. Besides, I have some ideas about work that I thought we could discuss over dinner tonight. So, trust me?" Sharon relented. And when the studs were placed in her ears, she preened with delight. They went to another boutique where Sharon started trying in some very nice skirts. She was trying to decide which one of four she really wanted when Jocelyn said, "Why not take all four? You'll need more than that, anyway." "Because I'm not made of money," Sharon replied. "That's okay. This is on me. All of it." Sharon began to protest, but Jocelyn placed her finger gently on Sharon's lips. "You have no idea how happy you made me last night, or how wonderful I am finding this today. I meant it last night when I said I love you, my darling, and I mean it now. I have a big, mostly empty apartment that you fill with love and joy, and I have a very healthy disposable income and too little to spend it on until you came along. "So, please let me do this. Let me give you what you know you want. Trust me." Again, Sharon relented. Shoes and boots were bought, skirts and tops and dresses were added, and then they entered a lingerie boutique that had just opened on Broadway. Sharon's inhibitions completely fell away, and she bought up hundreds of dollars worth of panties, bras, garter belts, negligees, corsets and stockings. By now it was late afternoon, and they were both laden with packages. When they emerged from the lingerie shop, they could hardly move, and a well dressed gentleman in his 40s insisted on helping. Sharon thought he was hailing a cab, but then a black limousine pulled up. The driver got out and immediately loaded the packages in the trunk, while Sharon, Jocelyn and the gentleman, who introduced himself as Lionel, took seats inside. "This is so nice of you," Jocelyn said. "Thank you so much." "It is my pleasure to be able to assist such lovely ladies as yourselves," he said. When Jocelyn gave him the address, he noted that Gramercy Park was one of his favorite spots in the city. "Do you avail yourself of the park's amenities?" he asked. "Not as much as I'd like," Jocelyn said. "Work, you know." "Yes, a career woman. Hectic life. Are you a career woman, too?" he asked Sharon, who found herself blushing. "I'm not sure what I want to do, yet," she said. He nodded his understanding. The car turned from 21st Street onto Gramercy Park West and pulled up in front of the house. "Thanks again for the..." Jocelyn started to say, but Lionel interrupted her. "I hope you will not think me too bold," he said, staring longingly at Sharon, "but I would be deeply honored if you would be my guests for dinner this evening." "I'm sorry," Jocelyn replied, "but we have plans." "Ah. Another time, perhaps?" "Perhaps," she said with a smile. Lionel took Sharon's hand and kissed it, then took Jocelyn's and did the same. "It was a pleasure meeting both of you, and an honor to have been of assistance," he said. "I do hope our paths cross again, soon." Lionel and the driver carried most of the packages up the steps and left them inside the vestibule, and then were gone. That night, they dined out at a small French restaurant on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village. Sharon wore a lovely little black dress they had bought that day, along with black suede pumps with 4" stiletto heels. Jocelyn wore a silk burgundy dress with silver pumps with a slightly lower heel. Jocelyn explained that the house had belonged to her great aunt, a tough old spinster whom had doted only on Jocelyn among all her family's children. When she had grown old and infirm, Jocelyn had remained loyal and true as the rest of the family withdrew. "She was a tough old bird," she said. "And she told me that she liked me so much because I was tough, too. She was a lesbian back when people didn't talk of such things, and she always said she thought I would have an 'interesting life'. She assumed I would be pretty wild when it came to sex. "Well, the house had been in the family going back to the mid-1800s, but she had been the one to subdivide it into apartments during the war. She made a fortune on the rents and managed the maintenance and repair workers herself. I hired a firm to do it once I inherited it, but it's still a very good source of income, which makes me even more independent when it comes to my career." The waiter came to take their drink orders, and Jocelyn said she would have a glass of Merlot. Sharon frowned, and Jocelyn said to the waiter, "On second thought, can you give us a few minutes?" "What's wrong with merlot?" she asked Sharon when the waiter had gone. "Nothing is wrong with it, but a restaurant like this has some really nice wines on the list. Please let me pick one instead." When the waiter returned, Sharon ordered a bottle of Malbec. After he left, she showed the wine list to Jocelyn. "I thought you were going to order something crazy expensive," she said with a laugh. "I mean, it would have been fine. But I'm surprised." "Malbec is an Argentine wine, and it hasn't really come into its own, here, yet. But it is really wonderful." The waiter returned and opened the bottle. He went to pour into Jocelyn's glass first, but she deferred to Sharon. Sharon sniffed the wine, took a sip and held it in her mouth before finally swallowing. "Mmmm," she said with a smile. "Wonderful." The waiter filled both their glasses and left. Jocelyn tried hers, imitating what Sharon had done. "You're right," she said. "That is wonderful. How is it that you know so much about wine?" "Wine and cooking are my two favorite things," she said. "In fact, I was hoping that you would want to have dinner in tomorrow and let me cook for you. It would at least allow me to show you some of the same kindness you've shown me." "Sure. I mean, I was planning on taking us out, but if you want to cook, that's fine with me." "Is there a food store near your place?" "There's a D'Agostino's over on Third, if that'll help." "That should do quite nicely." They slept in later than they had initially planned, as their lovemaking had been less frenzied but much more intense than the night before. They had gone to bed completely naked, intending to simply enjoy cuddling. But cuddling had led to kissing, which had led to caressing, which had led to licking and sucking...and then Jocelyn had reached down and pulled out vibrators to play with. As they had drifted off to sleep, Sharon had wondered if the neighbors might have heard their screaming orgasms. The beautiful weather of Saturday had given way to a dank, cold and drizzly Sunday, and they both had to change their clothes when they got back from food shopping. But when Jocelyn came into the kitchen, Sharon was already at work on a dinner of veal chop in a mushroom cream sauce, with risotto and glazed carrots. "You know," Jocelyn said when they were having dinner later that afternoon, "watching you in the kitchen, it's like watching an artist doing what she does best. And you did it all wearing a skirt, sweater, stockings and heels." "Stacked heeled loafers," Sharon said. "I wouldn't cook in stilettos." "Yes, but what I mean is that, it's the perfect you. It's what you were meant to do. Well, meant to do when not making love with me or prancing around in super sexy lingerie or flirting with some rich guy." "I didn't flirt!" "Oh, sure you did. Batted those long eyelashes, looked with those big brown eyes, kept your legs demurely together and crossed at the ankles while letting the hem of your skirt ride up so he could see lots of thigh...oh, girl, you have it down, pat." Sharon blushed. "Oh, yeah, and blushing like a milk maiden, too." "Stop." "Okay. So tell me, what other hidden talents do you have that I don't know about? What else do you like to do?" "Well, I do like to write. I've written a couple of short stories that I've had published in little literary magazines, and I have a couple of ideas for a novel." Jocelyn gazed across the table at her. "Stay," she replied, softly. "Call in sick tomorrow, maybe take the whole week. Do whatever you like here. Make it your home, too. "It's not just the sex, dearest, although I have to admit that is really wonderful. You want to live as a woman, and I can help you do that. I don't want a man in my life, I want you, much more woman than man, and still very much a girl, if you think about it." Sharon stared silently. "We only really just met," she said at last. "And had the best weekend of my life," Jocelyn added. "And it looked like it was pretty good for you, too." "Wonderful," she replied with a little shiver. "Then, stay. If after a week, you're still not sure, stay another week, and then another. I can cover for you at work, if you really want me to, although I suspect you'll feel a lot better if you break free of Ray and just be Sharon all the time." Sharon was mulling it over. "I love you," Jocelyn said at last. "I want to provide for you, protect you, share everything with you. I know it's only two days, but how much longer does a girl need to recognize that she just found what she's been looking for her whole life?" Sharon smiled a little. "I'd be a good homemaker," she said at last. "I know," Jocelyn replied. Tears were beginning to stream down her face. "You'd give it the love it deserves. You're a loving and caring girl, Sharon, which is why I love you so much." Sharon got up and walked over to Jocelyn's side of the table. She put her arm around her shoulder and laid her head against her lover's. "I love you, too," she said. "I'm just a little afraid. What if things don't work out?" "Even if they didn't, you'd still be better off living as Sharon than as Ray." "I'll think about it." She cleaned up and did the dishes, then she went to take a long bubble bath. As she luxuriated in the lilac-scented water, she tried to think about what she would want if she went back to living as Ray, but she drew a blank. Then she tried to imagine living alone as Sharon. A few ideas emerged, but not very specific. After her bath, she toweled off and then put the soft towel to her face and inhaled the lovely scent. Flowers! That's what the house needed, along with other soft, feminine touches. Jocelyn was too busy competing with men in their world to do it, but Sharon knew what flowers and green plants would mean to their home. She lowered the towel and looked in the mirror. Even without makeup, her face looked girly, especially with her hair teased a little and her brows thinned. She suddenly wished that her hair was longer - much longer, down past her shoulders, thick and curly and maybe even frosted a little. Yes, she'd be pretty with frosted hair. The studs in her freshly pierced ears were nice, but she longed to wear the dangling earrings like she had seen another woman wearing in the restaurant the night before, a little string of stones on each side that had looked oh, so elegant. And she forced herself to look at her chest, shaved smooth but flat without the breast forms, and she suddenly knew what it felt like to be a twelve year old girl whose boobs hadn't even started to develop while all her girlfriends were already wearing bras. Jocelyn had said they could do something about that, too. She could have breasts and not lose the little pole that still gave them both such intense pleasure. "It wouldn't be hard," Jocelyn had said. "We can live as a lesbian couple, and no one will think twice about it, except for horny guys like Lionel who'd like to watch. You'll be my wife. I'll treat you like a princess." She had felt like a princess once, nearly twenty years ago. She had loved it more than she could ever say. Now she could feel like it again. Jocelyn was already in bed when she came into the room. She slid into bed next to her and they cuddled and kissed. "I'm kind of worn out after the weekend," Sharon said, and Jocelyn giggled and said she was a little sore, too. They snuggled a little more, and the room grew softly quiet. "So," Sharon said at last. "What would you like for dinner tomorrow night?" To be continued...