I told her I’d be proud to have her as a sister, and so I would. I’d be even prouder if she was my girlfriend, but let’s not get completely out ...f hand. There was no way that was going to happen. Sis seemed to be happy with the idea. ‘Okay, you call me Sis and I’ll call you Al.’ Now, nobody called me Al, Paul Simon notwithstanding, so it seemed like a good idea. At least we had names for each other no one, not even our parents, used, and it gave us a sort of bond. I mean, we weren’t going to be. Then back to my place, pop a champagne cork, sip from each other's glass. So romantic. Then to bed. And absolutely no fireworks. For either of us. So that next Saturday, July sixth, I went to this really nice lingerie shop and start picking out hot outfits for me to wear, guaranteed to bring fireworks from my man, and a spectacular grand finale, too (I hoped). So I’m checking myself out in the store mirror, in a totally cute micro-miniskirt, red stocking, red garters, and matching red bra.. More

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