"Herbert," she said. "Why are you wearing my clothes?"With an uncharacteristically high heart the man replied in a scratchy, squeaky voice: "I am not ...erbert. I am Helen. And these are my clothes. Do you like them?"The man gracefully rose from the table. He loved sunny, shining mornings like this. His brawny, hairy arms bulged forth from a sleeveless, ankle-length floral print dress several sizes too small for his bulky frame. The man's feet, narrowly squeezed into silver-accented women's. I love how Jason pushes us to the edge and then he pushes a little more, that makes it even more exciting, I think.”“So do I sweetheart and I would do anything as well.”“I still can’t believe that I have to be naked in front of his poker friends next week.”“I wish that I was there to see that.”Kevin arrived around eight thirty and we sat drinking wine and chatting for a while before we took Christy’s clothes and stuff to his house. This time we made sure that she packed enough clothes for two. More

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