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Window Shopping

By: Ian H.



I live in a road with houses down one side and a block of flats on the other. My name is Andy, I'm 25 years old, single, a TV, I have a boy friend of sorts, he rings me from time to time telling me when he is coming round. This gives me time to get ready for him, I shower and put on the clothes he likes me to wear. Black underwear, suspenders, stockings, panties and a black dress. Then the finishing touch is a blonde wig, lots of make-up and black high-heels.

He had rung earlier to say he was coming over. As usually I was sitting in my bedroom window looking out for him, this gives me chance to watch for a guy who lives in the flats opposite. He is a hunk, well over six feet tall, he looks very fit, dark hair and sun-tanned. I hadn't been there long when I saw him coming up the road, he looked smart in a suit, I watched him go into the entrance to the flats. I don't now which one his is. Not long after A familiar car pulls up and Terry gets out he sees me in the bedroom window and waves. He let himself in and came up to the bedroom.

I was leaning on the windowsill trying to see if I could see which flat my dream bloke lived in. Terry came up behind me pressing himself against my bum and leaning over my back and kissing my neck. I could feel his hands running up the back of my thighs and up under my dress. I could see too much more out of the window as the sun had just appeared and was shining directly into my eyes from above the flats. He slid the hem of my dress up over my back and was feeling my ass. I'm 5 feet 7 tall and slim, Terry had always loved my ass, he said it was nicely rounded and sexy. He usually grabbed it as soon as he could whenever he came to see me. He was pulling my panties down at the back, then running his hands over the bare cheeks of me ass.

"Don't move," he said, "You are in a good position there". I glanced over my shoulder,

"I hope no one sees us, through the window," I said. He placed a hand between my legs and grabbed my balls then slid his hand up along my ass, a finger was in my crack and soon found my asshole.

"It's nicely greased I see," he said as he slid a finger up my hole. He insisted that I keep my ass lubricated when he was around, as he liked to shag me whenever and wherever he wanted. I heard him undoing his trousers and then slid them down, moments later his cock was nuzzling up against my ass. His cock spent more time erect and hard than it did soft. It was soon pushing into me, he pushed my legs as wide apart as they would go, as my panties were down mid thigh. He was soon humping me ramming his cock in and out of me.

His cock wasn't very big, it was sliding in and out smoothly, his balls slapping my thighs, my head hit the window a few times as he lunged forward. He always likes to cum in my mouth or over my face, I know when he is about to cum as he humps me faster and faster. That moment had just arrived, he pulled his cock out and I turned around and dropped to my knees just as the first jet of cum shot out of his cock and hit my cheek. I caught the rest in my wide-open mouth swallowing hard, then he wiped his cock around my face smearing the cum on my cheek all over.

"God, I needed that," he said. I stood up and pulled my panties up and re-arranged my dress.

"You look smart," I said noticing his nice trousers and collar and tie.

"I going to a wedding shortly," he said, "Thought I would come and see you first though." We went down stairs and I made us a cup of tea. It was a Saturday afternoon, there was sport on the Tele, we watched it for a while then about 2.30 he said he had to go.

"I'll ring you during the week," he said as he left. I went back to watching the sport and fell asleep. It was about 5.30 when I awoke, I was going upstairs to the toilet, which takes me through the hall past the front door. I noticed a letter on the mat, it was posted by hand, as there was no stamp on it, just the house number. I opened it as I went up stairs, it said: -

"Hi sexy, Saw the show you and your boyfriend put on this afternoon in your bedroom window " my heart skipped a beat I thought for a moment I might be in trouble for exposing myself etc. but I read on: -

"I would like to come and see you this evening would that be possible? If so turn your bedroom light off and on three times at 6 o'clock, Ps I love the sexy clothes. Joe".

I began wondering who Joe might be, I kept on looking at the clock and wondering if I should see him or not. Curiosity got the better of me and at 6 o'clock I turned my bedroom light off and on 3 times, it was just getting dark so I pulled the curtains. I went back down stairs and pulled the curtains they as well. After a short time there was a knock at the door, I very nervously opened it and peered around the corner, I had a nice surprise it was my dream hunk, I stared at him in disbelief,

"Are you not going to ask me in then," he said.

"Sorry," I replied holding the door open for him then shutting it behind him. He was older than I imagined mid thirties perhaps, I led him into the living room.

"I'm Joe," he said holding out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Andy," I answered. We shook hands,

"What's your other name," he asked, "I can't call you Andy when you look like that," he added. I blushed a little,

"Terry, my boyfriend, likes to call me Mandy," I answered.

"Oh, him," he said, "Ok, I'll call you Mandy as well then," he added.

"Can I get you a drink, a can of lager maybe," I asked.

"A can of lager would be great," he replied. I went into the kitchen and came back with a can each. We both opened them and had a long drink each.

"I loved the show you put on earlier," he said, taking another drink.

"I do love suspenders and stockings, and a good ass. From what I could see your ass is pretty cute. Any way, I've had this all afternoon since seeing you," he said holding the bulge in his jeans.

" It's your fault and I think you should take care of it," he said with a lecherous grin on his face and started to undo his belt. I watched him as he put his can down and undid his jeans, I was surprised by his bluntness, but not bothered, I waited eagerly to see what he had hidden. His jeans hit the floor, then his boxer shorts. His long white T-shirt hid his equipment. He lifted his shirt with one hand while supporting his enormous cock with the other. My eyes nearly bulged out of my head, his cock wasn't that long 6 or maybe 7 inches long, but it was so fat, I reached out and put my hand under it. Joe let go and it fell into my hand, it was heavy, I closed my fingers around it but they didn't meet by a long, long way. It was hard and the tip looked damp as I stroked it slowly. We sat on the sofa, Joe cock standing up proudly. He reached over and placed a hand on my thigh and slowly slid his hand up under my dress,

"Ah, suspenders," he said lifting my skirt up higher for a better look. My hand was around his cock, I could leave it alone, it was amazing. His hand was stroking my bare thigh tracing the suspender along to were it disappeared under my panties. I noticed he had big hands as well. He then reached up and put his arm around my neck, "Suck my cock," he said pulling my head down into his lap. I loving licked and kissed the tip then opening my mouth as wide as I could I attempted to get it inside. The big head was just to fat it was scraping my teeth top and bottom before it was fully in. I just licked it up and down and sucked and licked the tip, tasting his juices. He pushed my up after a while then he stood up and took my hand and pulled me to my feet as well. He lifted the hem of my dress up under my armpits,

"What a cute ass," he said, his big hands squeezing my panties-covered buttocks. He slid his hand down the back of my panties and ran his fingers up and down my crack. Then I felt him tugging my panties down, they soon hit the floor around my ankles and I kicked them off. He found my lubricated hole and slid a huge finger up me.

"This is nice, you are all ready greased up," he said. He walked me towards the table and pushed me down over the end of it, then I felt his monster cock pressed up against me. I wasn't sure if I could take it, he slowly and very gently pushed. The tip started to stretch my ass, it slowly slid a little further in, I was feeling a little pain as it sank further in. Then, stretching me more than I had ever been, it's head slid up my ass, the rest soon was embedded right up to his big heavy balls. I gasped loudly as it filled me then slowly and gently and began sliding it in and out, each time it was getting easier and soon he was fucking me good and hard. This was what I had dreamed of after seeing this bloke out of my window, he pulled his cock out and got me down on hands and knees on the floor. He came up behind me and slid his cock back up my ass filling it once again, then fucking away some more. He was good. He then pulled out again,

"Let's go to the bedroom," he said. I got up and led the way, as we went upstairs, Joe was right behind me rubbing and squeezing my ass as we went, running his other hand over my suspenders. We reached the bedroom he had my lying in my back on the bed, my ass overhanging the edge then he placed my legs on his shoulders and leaned over on top of me, my ass came up to meet him. His cock seemed to find my ass without any trouble and slid back in. This position seemed to get him further in and with long strokes he fucked me some more. My ass was used to the size now, his cock making a squelching noise as he pumped it in and out. He fucked me in a few more positions, I was beginning to think this guy would never tire. Then he had me on hands and knees on the bed.

"I'm going to try something I have always wanted to do," he said. He saw the jar of cream on the bedside cabinet, he picked it up and got some on his hands. He sat on the bed behind me and pushed a couple of his big fingers up my ass and spread the cream around. Then he bunched up all four fingers of his right hand and pushed them as far up me as they would go. Then he twisted them back and forth, pushing at the same time, he was stretching my poor ass even bigger.

"I'd love to get my hand up your ass," he said, "I've dreamt about it so often," he added, pushing more of his hand up me. I was gasping for air as the pain increased. He continued twisting his hand and pushing his thumb joined the fingers and my hole stretched a bit more.

"It's nearly in," he said excitedly, then with a sudden relief my ass hole began to close as the widest part of his hand disappeared up my ass. He pushed his huge hand up me until my hole was now closed around his wrist.

"Oh, this is fantastic, it's so hot up there, and so tight," he said overjoyed at doing what he had dreamed about. Then I felt my ass beginning to stretch again as he pulled his hand back, God what a relief when it got passed the widest part again. He slowly slid his hand fully out and fully in numerous times I lost count, it blew my mind, each time, the feelings were so intense. He was kneeling behind me as he worked his hand back up me once more wanking his big cock at the same time. Suddenly he pulled his hand out and shoved his cock in, it didn't touch the sides, I close my ass around it and I felt him cum bucket loads deep inside me. He groaned loudly,

"God, I have never cum like that before," he said as he pulled his cock out and flopped on the bed exhausted. I went to the bathroom and got a towel and we went back downstairs. I placed the towel on the sofa to sit on as his cum trickled out of my huge, wide-open asshole. I watched him as he got dressed,

"That was fantastic, better than my dreams, we must do this again," he said enthusiastically.

"I hope you agree, I think you are incredible, and you have the cutest ass I've ever seen," he added. I looked at the time it was after 10 we had been fucking for hours.

"Yes I would like to see you again, you have the biggest cock I have ever seen, and I'd like to see more of it," I said. I stood up and pulled my panties on to catch any more cum that might dribble out of my ass. I pulled my skirt back down, as I walked him to the door he was rubbing my ass and he bent down a little and kissed me full on the lips, his tongue inside my mouth flicking over mine. We reached the door,

"Can I see you Thursday, evening," he asked. I thought for a second,

"Thursday will be ok," I answered.

"Good"" he said and left. I went to bed and relived the evening had had a fantastic wank.

Window Shopping



You were blissfully strolling along the corridors of the mall, enjoying a rare weekday off, to pamper yourself and just relax. I saw you approaching before you noticed me. My eyes had been emblazoning all over your body, admiring the beautiful creature before me. I felt bold, brazen, I had always wanted this to happen, and now you were the one.

You turned and saw me, watching you, smiling at you. You couldn't help yourself, you smiled back, the display of my confidence bemusing you. Besides, you thought, he's pretty damn cute. The starched white shirt, the crisp blue suit, the nice silk tie.

And, of course, that smile, mischievous, knowing, charmingly disengaging, my bright green eyes sparkling their approval at the lovely sight before me. You. 

"Hi!" I said.

"Hi yourself." you replied. You wondered, "I hope he has something better than that as a line."

"Welcome to my mall, I'm the manager, my name is John."

"Hello, John, isn't that nice, my name is...," you hesitated,"Anita."

"Nice to meet you, Anita, I'm here to make your shopping experience a pleasurable one, I can offer you impeccable service."

You couldn't help the smile spreading over your face, though you tried to conceal it. You didn't know it, but I could see your cheeks flush almost imperceptibly.

"Well, now, that is so thoughtful, John, thank you so much. Tell me, do you offer this to all of your customers?"

"Actually, no, Anita, I've been saving this especially for you."

Again, you smiled, your eyes locking into mine, dancing eyeballs in a visual foreplay, displaying interest, anticipation, intrigue, daring.

"And, just what have you been saving for me, John, do tell."

I leaned away from the railing and stood straight, and your eyes couldn't help but to glance down, and see my very noticeable arousal.

"This, Anita, this is what I have to service you." I said, my pants now visibly twitching.

Oh my God, you thought to yourself, I can't believe this is happening. Who IS this guy? Yet, at the same time, you were becoming very aroused yourself, your weight shifting from one high-heeled leg to the next.

You said nothing in reply, still surveying the situation and weighing the options in your mind. You were now a captive emotional passenger in this, waiting to see where I would take this, where I would take you.

"It's big." I said, snapping you back from your thoughts.

"Pardon me?" you stammered, slightly.

"It's big." I repeated.

You smiled, playing along now, completely engrossed in this dialogue. "What's big?"

"It." I replied, standing straighter.

Hmmm, you thought, it certainly does appear to be.

"John, just how big is it?"

"Very, Anita."

We looked at each other intently for perhaps ten more seconds and then your lips parted, "Yes, but.,"

"I do.", I interjected, not letting you finish your sentence.

"How do you know what I was going to ask?" you queried, slightly annoyed at my presumptuousness.

"I do, Anita. I do know exactly how to use it. That's what you wanted to know." I watched you grin reluctantly, a smile of affirmation.

"When I say I will service you, I will do so with great skill and care. You will leave a very satisfied visitor. I have picked you out especially, as I have already told you. All you have to do now is enjoy, and follow a few simple instructions, that's all. Ok, Anita? Would you like to be serviced?"

You stood there, for one of the very few times in your life, rendered speechless. It was usually you who took control of the sensual and sexual banter and teasing. You didn't know quite how to react to someone so confident, yet at the same time so sincere in their desire to please. You continued to ponder, as I began again.

"Anita, here is what I will request that you do. You are to return home, and dress as you would for an important job interview, and come into my office at exactly two-thirty. I presume you have a nice, conservative business suit with a skirt, for the occasion?"

I did not wait for a reply, though you managed to nod weakly.

I continued, "You will come into my office and identify yourself as Ms. Mandalay, and you are here for the personal assistant's position."

Again, you nodded, making mental notes, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts, trying to make sense of all of the sensations, yet consumed by the growing dampness evident between your legs, dripping onto your thong.

"However, Anita, I have one requirement for you. It is incumbent that you follow this request for continued consideration for this position. Beneath your conservative suit, you will be wearing..nothing. Not a bra, no panties, no stockings, nothing. I will have such accessories available to provide to you during the private interview. Is that acceptable?"

"Wow!" you thought, "Is it ever!" But you tried not to convey your enthusiasm, though your eyes and the flush of your cheeks and the unmistakable scent of your sex betrayed you. I knew all, noticed all, for I was intrigued by the subject matter. You.

Instead, you just whispered, "Yes, John, I understand, and thank you for the opportunity, you won't be disappointed, I assure you."

I smiled back at you. "Splendid, Anita, I'm quite sure I won't be. Two-thirty, then." I extended my hand.

"Two thirty, yes.", You watched as I walked away briskly, your heart racing, your chest heaving, taking short, measured breaths.

You thought, "Wow, oh, wow, oh wow! What a day this has turned out to be." Your immediate thought was getting into your car and touching yourself wantonly, waiting for the next several hours to pass.

"Wow, oh, wow, oh, wow!", I thought. "I can't believe I just did that, she is simply stunningly beautiful!" My only thought was returning to my office and touching myself furiously, waiting for the next several hours to pass.

To be continued. Only if you ask for more.



Window Shopping



Emily leaned back in her chair, kicking the front legs up as she sipped cabernet, the deep purple wine clinging to her lips. "You seeing anybody yet?"

I rolled my eyes and poured myself. "No, Em, I haven't got time for that."

"It's been six months. Don't you think it's about time you made time."

"You know how my job is. I've got three projects going right now, and we're bidding on the new library."

Emily leaned forward and plucked a Gitane from the cobalt blue box. It was like her to smoke a strong, foreign cigarette. She wasn't the kind of girl who'd smoke something so prosaic as a Marlboro or Winston. She drove a Peugeot that cost her a metric ton to maintain, drank Chilean wines and wore silk dresses when flannel was chic among lesbians. Her neighboring apartment was a temple of books, which probably explained why she had lived there throughout and beyond two serious but failed relationships. Her books outweighed the baggage. Perhaps that's why I'd stayed as well, or simple inertia. I slid the last of our dinner dishes into the dishwasher, while bitching mildly about unreasonable deadlines in between sips of wine.

"Gary, you are always facing deadlines. Don't let work become an excuse. I know she hurt you, but it's time."

"And who would I date?"

Emily turned her eyes away, taking a long puff from her cigarette, letting the smoke hang in the air. "Whomever you want."

I pulled the cork from the bottle, and refilled our glasses. "And what about you, Em? I haven't heard much giggling from your bedroom lately."

"You can hear?" She turned around, mouth open and face slightly flushed. "I didn't think I was that noisy."

"Fear not. There's concrete block between our apartments. It's intended as a firewall, but it does a decent job of blocking sound.

Emily smiled wanly. "I'm glad. Still, I was relieved when you replaced that old box spring."

I winced. The damned thing was loud, but I didn't think the noise would transmit through concrete block and drywall."Don't be so serious, I'm just teasing. Have you met that new girl in 42-C?" she asked, now grinning mischievously. "She's awful cute."

"The one across the courtyard?"

"Yes."

"I ran into her once in the laundry room, but no, we haven't really met. Even though I can see right into her apartment."

"Really? Get any shows?"

"Pervert!"

"Like you're better. All guys like to look."

"Em, when I sit at that window I'm normally working on a CAD drawing. Yes, I can see but I don't peek. What's up, are you interested in her?"

"A little," she said taking another puff from her cigarette. She looked away again before adding. 

"Usually when you say that you're very interested."

"Alright, she's really cute. But she's probably straight."

I poured myself a bit more wine so I wouldn't have to say anything. 

"You should go to the party next weekend," Emily suggested. "I could introduce you."

"You know her?"

"We've met, in the laundry room. Only I was folding my unmentionables so we had a chance to chat. Her name is Lisa, and she's a techie."

"Was she checking out your undies, Em?"

"Maybe a little. I have some pretty interesting stuff." Then she winked at me.

That was one of those places I didn't want to go. Emily often teased me sexually, and more often lately now that we both were between relationships. I enjoyed it but preferred to suppress that fantasy. Emily was far too tempting. She was pretty. Tall and slim with long red hair and flashing blue eyes. And she was so feminine, so atypical of the lesbian stereotype. Adding our friendship and her known interest in other women made for a dangerously seductive package. I dared not think about Emily sexually, because I knew what would happen. You start out with a few harmless fantasies, but sooner or later they turn into the drunken pass or unwelcome hints. Pop goes the friendship. I didn't want to become one of those men, so I refused any hint of delusion. Better to think of her as the sister I never had and leave matters there. "Well, she has some pretty interesting stuff too." I added.

Emily raised her right eyebrow. "So she did give you a show?"

"She hangs her clothes up on the porch to dry."

"Sun-dried clothing is the best way to go. But usually you don't hang your unmentionables out there, at least the good stuff. Women reserve viewing for special moments with someone special."

"Unless you're living with them."

"Well, small apartments do challenge the feminine mystique. No space for a boudoir."

"I didn't think you did such things."

"You'd be surprised at what I do, Gary. You really would."

I smiled at her and saw that pensive look in her face, that I'd seen a lot of lately. And then her face lit up as she grinned at me again. "Well, Em, I've got to get back to my drawings. Deadline tomorrow, you know."

She grinned and sipped her wine, before rising. "I think the reason they gave you your computer is to get more work out of you. I know that's why they gave me my laptop."

I laughed. "Everyone knows that's true, we just don't want to admit it. At least they let us put video games on our home machines."

"So you've been shooting zombies all this time, instead of working.

"If I don't get this drawing done, I'll be turned into a zombie!"

"Well, I'd hate to see that happen. Green is not your color." As she opened my door to leave she reached back to touch my hand in parting. She grinned and her fingers slipped away, grazing gently across my skin. After the door clicked shut I lifted my hand for a second wondering, for she'd never touched me like that before. 

There seemed no point worrying about what Em was doing. I spotted my copy of Scene. It took a moment to scan the personals. Lots of single women. This one I liked but wouldn't likeme, that one I didn't like. No one looked likely. I tossed the paper aside and headed formy bedroom, where the computer waited. Two clicks brought the ceiling plan up on my screen. I needed to check the lighting levels before handing the plan over to the engineer for the circuit diagrams.

As I worked my mind drifted back to Emily. Had she really been able to hear Theresa and I together in bed? It hardly seemed possible, and she knew our mattress squeaked from when she visited. But if they had, what would they have thought? Would they have been repulsed, like the stereotypical lesbian? I wondered about that. Mary had never been particularly friendly to me. Emily once told me she was jealous of our friendship.

Rubbing my chin, I turned to look outside my window. There stood Lisa in her bedroom, backlit from her hallway light. She was clad only in a black slip and earrings, and the sheer fabric clung to her petite body. Her nipples were plainly visible beneath the fabric and I wondered if she was preparing herself for a lover. She was so pretty, and I felt my cock stirring as I looked. So I turned away and lay on the bed to give her privacy.

Yet she was lovely, I realized, and hungered again for a woman's touch. I looked back at the wall that divided Emily's bedroom from mine. What if she had heard us together? Would our passion have inspired Em and Mary to make love? Theresa and I had made so many memories in this bed. I remembered Theresa's black hair splayed across the pillow, mouth open as I drove myself into her. I reached down to unzip my jeans, and raised my hips to slip them down. My cock sprang free, standing upright before me as I licked my fingers before taking it in my hand. So many images filled my mind. Theresa beneath me, her legs wrapped around my hips, her arms about me, whispering lewdly into my ear. And as I did that I imagined Emily and Mary in the next room, listening to our bed springs and Theresa's soft cries of passion.

I pictured them kissing open-mouthed, and tall, voluptuous Mary feeding her enormous breasts into Emily's small mouth. In my fantasy she wore an enormous dildo, and Emily spread her legs to receive it. I wrapped my fist about my cock and began to pump it, slowly at first, to savor the sweet sensations. My other hand cupped my balls and began to roll them gently as my hips writhed upon my bed.

I tried to strip that image from my mind, and instead tried to picture myself with Lisa. I remember that she had a sharp, mischievous grin from our meeting in the laundry room. I pictured her now, erect nipples poking through black satin, her slip up above her waist, legs spread wide for my thrusts. She smiled at me as I pounded her. And then her picture dissolved and only Emily lay beneath me, her long red tresses spayed out on the pillow. I licked her soft pink lips as I kissed her, my cock deep inside her. Her body was tense and breasts bounced, and she asked me to fill her. And with her image in my mind I came with a groan, feeling the warm liquid spread out upon my belly.

* * *

I awoke in the darkness, pants still down around my knees. I slid them all the way off and went to get a bathrobe. The deadline loomed before me. Back to work I went, checking the drawings one last time before sending them off to the office for printing. I heard laughter from across the courtyard, and glanced across. A neatly dressed man, tall and bearded sat upon Lisa's couch. And she was talking to him as she lowered the Venetian blinds, sealing off her world from mine.

Relieved, I walked to the kitchen to make coffee. I thought of Emily touching me again, and became angry at my weakness. Angry at myself for dreaming of Theresa again, when she was gone forever. Angry because I had intruded into Lisa's privacy. I decided that I should work with my blinds down in the future, though that had never been my habit. And then I wondered why, when all I needed to do was keep my mind on my work. And so I went back to work, never noticing when the lights went dark in Lisa's bedroom.

* * *

The party was a Luau theme, so I dug an old Hawaiian shirt out my closet and some khaki shorts. I heard the door open and Emily came in, wearing a floral print dress and grumbling "Where's your coconut bra," I asked, lightheartedly.

"Coconut bra? I'm not big enough to fill one of those."

"You don't need whoppers to fill a coconut."

"True, they do bulge on their own. But it's hard finding a grass skirt in this town. Would you zip me?"

"Sure." I leaned over and noticed that she wasn't wearing any bra, much less coconuts. I noticed how smooth her skin was as my finger closed over the zipper.

"Thanks." She whirled about to face me. "Get your drawings done?"

"I had to stay up all night to finish, but yes, I got done. Thank God it's Saturday, and I don't have anything to do until tomorrow night."

"Good, because we're both going to get leighed tonight."

"You got somebody in mind?"

"Maybe, but I was talking about the flowers, silly. But then you might get lucky. I plan on formally introducing you and Lisa tonight."

"I wouldn't hope much there. She had a gentleman caller last night."

"Oh did she?" Though she mouthed the words, I had a feeling that Emily didn't think that was a bad thing. Which surprised me, because I thought she might be interested in Lisa herself." She reached out and pulled me after her. "Now come on, I've got an appointment with a roasted pig, and we don't want to be late." And so I followed her down to the patio. We chatted with our neighbors. I decided to head over to the punch bowl, to check it for alcohol content. It wasn't, which reminded me again that my college days were over, though they did have a keg of cold beer to remind me of my youthful folly. I filled my glass and wandered over by the poolside, where I found Emily and Lisa chatting.

Em grabbed my hand and pulled me over to them. "You have got to meet Gary. Gary this is Lisa," she added pushing her smaller hand in mine.

She squeezed my hand again, grinning up at me. "We've met," she continued, "though no one ever told me your name before. I've seen you out my window, always staring at your computer screen. Are you one of those chat room addicts."

"No, I'm an architect. It's just that this is the busy season for us, and my boss's last name is Legree."

Lisa smiled at me, that sort of upturned Cheshire grin that give you an idea that you don't know the half of what's going on inside her head. "Sounds like we have the same boss. I'm a network admin, have to work a lot of odd hours. Fortunately they haven't made to many changes in the system lately, so I've actually got it working right for once."

"If you can get it working, you ought to come to my shop. Our server is always crashing."

"That's bad, very bad. But let's not talk about computers shall we? I've had enough work for this lifetime." And we began to chat about work our college days, and whether or not John Cusack had gone Hollywood. Emily slipped away while we spoke, and after she left Lisa's next question surprised me. "So how long have you two been going out?"

"Em and I are just friends."

"Really? I was sure you two had something going."

"She's my best friend."

"You mean you're not interested in her."

"No, she's not interested in me. She's gay."

"Oh." Lisa turned her eyes to watch Emily from across the pool. "Are you certain?"

"In the six years I've known her, she's had two live-in girlfriends and not one date with a man."

"And what about you? What team do you play for?"

"Excuse me."

"It isn't exactly usual for a lesbian to hang out with a straight guy."

"Emily's not exactly ordinary."

"No she isn't. But who wants to be ordinary?"

"Not me."

"Me either. Do you like to dance."

"Sure." And so she took me out on the dance floor and we began to sway and bump with the music. She moved gracefully, like a panther in perfect time with the beat. Near her I felt clumsy but she didn't seem to notice. She was beautiful and totally female, and my mind and body couldn't help but notice. It felt good, like Theresa hadn't taken my mojo after all. And then I caught sight of Emily in the corner of my eye. She was watching us, but instead of the grin I expected her eyes looked sad, her mouth downcast. So I smiled and waived her over. And as I motioned to her, that wonderful smile reappeared. 

And so we danced, and rested, then danced some more, growing closer all the time. Lisa and Emily seemed to hit it off, and I could see Lisa batting her eyes flirtatiously at Emily. And then at me. I was confused, and a little bit high, so I really didn't understand at the time. But we were having fun, and I enjoyed both their company. 

Finally I sat down and watched them dance together. Their eyes stayed upon each other as they swayed to the music. And then a slow song began, and they parted, gesturing to me. I caught Emily's eye she took my hand and put it in Lisa's. "Dance for me," and stepped aside as our bodies came together.

I put my arm around her and Lisa stepped toward me, her head fitting nicely against my shoulder and my right hand fell naturally to rest upon her short black curls. I rested my head upon hers as we swayed together. I could feel my breasts against my belly, and her thighs against my hips. Lisa wrapped her arms around me and held me close as I savored the pressure of her body against mine. But as we danced I searched the crowd and found Emily standing there watching us intently. Her mouth was open and she stood quietly, though she smiled when she spotted me looking at her. 

"You two are so blind." 

I looked down and saw Lisa smiling before returning her face to my chest. I could feel her body against mine, and I responded in a way that was unmistakable. And I found myself wanting to kiss her very badly, but instead contented myself with stroking her hair and neck.

The song ended and she stepped away from me. "You need to give the last dance to Emily," she told me and slipped from my arms. She reached for Emily, and pulled my friend on the dance floor, whispering something in her ear. And then Emily stepped into my arms.

Emily's hair glistened in the moonlight and I noticed again how moist her eyes, were, how soft her long, straight hair. And then I realized I had never held her like this before, or noticed the curve of her back, the firmness of the muscles beneath my fingers. And I could feel her breasts against my chest, her nipples through thin fabric of her dress. I looked straight at her and she returned the gaze directly. She was beautiful, not model beautiful, but everything seemed to fit. She felt warm and soft in my arms. And then my cock began to swell. I panicked a bit. What if she noticed? Surely she'd be offended. So I pulled back so she wouldn't notice my desire. But she wrapped her arm around my hips and pulled me tight against her body. My erection rubbed against her thigh, no way she could miss it. "Oh my," she whispered as I felt her body press against my erection.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, ashamed and yet enjoying the touch of her soft hair, the pressure of her body against mine.

"You're a guy. You can't help yourself." But she did no move away but continued to press herself against me, body swaying to the music. My skin tingled from the delicious friction. On a whim I relaxed and let myself press against her, daring for a moment to dream that she felt as me. My best friend was next to me, so beautiful and feminine. As we danced a single tear slipped from the corner of my eye. 

The last song ended and she pulled away from me. She reached out one long finger and wiped the water from my face. We looked around, but Lisa had already gone. So we turned and climbed the stairs upward toward my apartment. "Would you like to come in for a drink?" I offered, hoping she would accept. And she stood silent for a second with pursed lips, and then smiled and followed me inside. 

I reached for the lights but I felt her hand close over mine. "Leave them off," she whispered. "It's a beautiful night, let's enjoy the darkness for a bit. Sit down on the porch and I'll pour us some iced tea." I didn't complain, just slid open the door and stepped outside into the night air. Across the patio I could see into Lisa's apartment. The lights were on low, though she was nowhere in sight. Which was fine by me. And then I heard a rustling and Emily stepped on the porch with me. Handing me a tall cool glass. I lifted it to my lips and drank deeply, letting the tea roll over my tongue.

The light snapped on in Lisa's bedroom, and she stepped into the room, clad in a terrycloth robe. I could hear Emily lighting a cigarette to my right, and smelled the acrid smoke floating by. It seemed for a moment that Lisa saw it too, for she looked right at us. But she made no move to lower her blinds, but turned down the bed and began fluffing her pillows.

"You know she kissed me when we went to the ladies room," Emily announced, taking a long drag.

"Really. How was it?"

"Sweet. She has wonderfully soft lips."

"So how come you're not with her?"

But Emily just took another drag and said nothing. Lisa closed the closet door, revealing a full length mirror. I could see Em's cigarette glowing in the reflection. And then Lisa sat down and began rummaging through her bedside table. She turned and seemed to smile at us as she found what she wanted. Emily and I both caught our breath when she held up a large double-ended dildo up before laying it upon her bed.

"We should go inside, Em."

"No. She knows we're here. She can see the glow of my cigarette. I think she wants us to watch."

"Her room is lit."

"I tell you she knows."

I stood paralyzed as Lisa pulled a small bottle of oil from her drawer and set it upon the table. And then she stood before the mirror, studying her image and then let her robe tumble upon the floor. Her breasts were wide and close together, crowned with small berry nipples. We watched as she traced her right hand over her belly and up to cup her left breast. My cock began to throb.




Window Shopping



"She's really beautiful," Emily whispered, her voice hoarse. Her chest rose and fell slowly and she lay her cigarette still lit upon the banister. "Damn that's a big dildo."

"You've seen one of those before?"

"Yeah." Emily spoke breathlessly as if the sight before us brought back some tingling memory that absorbed all but a shred of her concentration. I turned my eyes from Lisa to my friend, who stood next to me, arms crossed except for the cigarette dangling from her hand. I could see the tension in her body, shifting nervously as she watched. Her large nipples stood out like berries beneath her thin dress. She turned and grinned at me. "What are you looking at, Gary? The show's over there."

But Lisa slid down her blinds ending the free show.

"Lord I need a glass of cold, cold water."

I laughed and got up to get us both a glass. "I can't believe she showed us that dildo.

"Me either. I'd like to be on the other end of that."

"Maybe she did it send you a message."

"Maybe she did. I gave her enough hints."

"So go knock on her door."

"Are you kidding?"

"Why not? Aren't double headers a classic lesbian toy."

"Straights use them too. You can bend them around and . . . " Emily stopped short and then grinned at me."

And I got another image in my mind of Emily taking the soft shaft and turning it on herself for double penetration.

"I know what you're thinking. You're wondering how that would work. I'm so horny that I'd show you if I had one."

"So go borrow Lisa's."

"Yeah, I can see that now. I just stopped over to see if you had a cup of sugar and a dildo. No problem."

"Yeah, but maybe she wants you to come over and get in the driver's seat."

"Honey, I'm a catcher. Haven't you noticed that I usually date butches?"

"Not really. You don't date people who look like men."

"Butch isn't a haircut. Lisa is very feminine. Plus she likes guys. Probably just a baby dyke dabbling."

"Still, she's pretty, she hasn't anyone to occupy the other end of that phallus. And she kissed you in the bathroom. With intent, I assume."

"Yeah, there was intent. You dirty bastard, Gary, you're trying to get me laid."

"What's good for the goose . . ."

"I ought to goose you."

"I'd like it too much."

"Yes, you would Gary. But what excuse would I use?" I went to my cupboard and pulled out a decent cabernet and two wine glasses. "Bring her a bottle of wine, she can turn you down decently but at least you have an excuse, and something to do if she isn't in the mood."

"Good plan. I'll try it. I'll eat her alive."

Emily slid open the screen to my porch and disappeared inside. I was half drunk, but decided to visit my refrigerator and get one more. Emily hadn't slept with anyone since her breakup with Mary. I found myself wishing she were with me, and stopped to think about it. Maybe if she got some I would too. Sometimes things happened that way, you give up something to get something else.

Yeah right. That sounded too much like some psychic crap. Karma seemed like wishful thinking to me.

A moment later I spotted a light turn on in Lisa's living room. I watched her walk across the room and then I saw Emily's taller silhouette through the curtains. I saw her pour a glass of wine. A few moments later the two figures came together. 

The necked standing for a time then lowered themselves until they disappeared from view. The lights stayed on but I saw no more. Somehow the whiskey bottle came out, and I told myself again and again that it was okay, that the woman I love had found someone that it was good, and I could bear it. 

Again and again, I told myself and hoped to believe it.

* * *

"Wake up sleepyhead." 

I awoke with a start. My head was pounding, and my stomach shaking. The sun was bright in my eyes. I was still in the chair on my porch, still wearing my leigh and Hawaiian shirt. The bottle of V.O. sat empty at my side, the glass, half full. 

"Where are you?" It was Emily.

I stood up just before Emily pulled open the screen door. "Oh my God! Look at you! Did you pass out on the porch last night?"

I nodded and braced myself against the wall. "I think I need an aspirin."

"I think you need more than that. You look terrible! Come to bed."

I stumbled after her into my mercifully dark apartment. "My God, you're still in those clothes." She led me to the bedroom. My stomach heaved, and I made a quick detour to the bathroom."

Fortunately nothing much came up. I found some naproxen and slammed down a double dose. It didn't sit well, but it sat. Emily unbuttoned my shirt as I stumbled to bed. I didn't last long.

**`*

I awoke a few hours later, my head down to a dull roar. The scent of fresh coffee filled my nostrils, and I came out. Emily was asleep in my easy chair with her laptop. She shook her head and smiled when I shambled into the living room. "You look a lot better. When I saw you this morning you looked like Death himself."

"I felt like dying. What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you'd be okay."

"My stomach is fine now. Do you want some coffee?"

"Absolutely. Why did you drink that much? I haven't seen that bottle out for a long time."

I told her I had been thinking of Theresa because I knew she'd believe it.

She grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me direct in the eye. "Gary, listen to me. You can't carry a torch forever sweetie. Theresa's the kind of person whose career will always be more important to her than any man."

"It seems like I always fall for the wrong girl."

"You and me both, sweetie."

"So it didn't go well between you and Lisa."

"Au contraire. She fucked me within an inch of my life." And she closed her eyes, and shimmied to emphasize what must have been wild.

"Wow."

"Don't get too excited. Lisa's a party girl."

"Maybe you can change her mind."

"I doubt it. People are what they are."

"Do you have a thing for straight girls?"

"That would be silly. Love is mostly about luck anyway. You have to meet the right person at the right time in your and their life."

I forced a laugh. Emily grinned at me. "Speaking of sex with straight girls do you know who hit on me this morning?"

"Huh?"

"Patsy Bennett in 11-F."

"Her? I thought she was Suzy Homemaker. She's got all those yellow ribbons and such on her car."

"It seems her husband has a two-girl fantasy. Seeing Lisa and I dance together pushed them over the edge"

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. She's not really into it, and I don't want to waste a few hours wrestling with some girl who doesn't want to be there just to please some man. Plus if I was going to do a threesome it wouldn't be with Mike."

"Who would you choose? Brad Pitt?"

"I'm more an Ed Norton kind of girl."

"Ed Norton?"

"He's sweet."

"I would never have guessed."

"What about you. What guy would you have your threesome with?"

"Don't you mean 'what woman'?"

"Answer the question white man. What guy?"

"Gosh, I'd never thought about it . . .. Probably Michael Douglas because he'd bring Catherine Zeta-Jones."

"What a guy you are."

"That's right."

"You ought to consider how women often prefer sensitive men with an edge."

"Is that my problem. Not enough edge."

"Not sensitive enough. If you really understood you'd have chosen some metrosexual."

"But I don't want to go to bed with a man."

"Yet men expect their straight girlfriend to go down on another woman."

"I'm not Mike Bennett."

"Thank heaven for that. If you had been her husband, I might have said yes."

"Really?"

"No. Patsy would still have been a problem."

"I would never marry Patsy."

"Why not? She's voluptuous and has a good job."

"She has the personality of an unsalted cracker." 

Emily laughed. "Oh, a vicious streak! I hadn't seen that in you before. You may learn how to mimic bad boys yet. But you'll never be one. Are you going to be in trouble for not going into work this morning?"

"Not with the near all-nighter I pulled Wednesday."

"Good. Well, now that you're up and going home to plan tonight's wardrobe."

"Are you and Lisa going out again?"

"I'm making her dinner."

"Sounds romantic."

"I hope so."

"Maybe her boyfriend works weekends."

"If it was serious wouldn't he come over late for some hootchie cootchie?"

"He might have my job."

Emily laughed. "Honey, you still found time for Theresa. You always find time for me, even though I'm a bitchy dyke. Lisa would have been waiting up for you."

I laughed, but I watched her every move while she slinked out the door. I decided this would be a good day to go into the office. Work does such a fine job of occupying the mind, on that day I wanted not to think. I was glad for Emily. And jealous as well, jealous of them both.

It didn't get any worse. I didn't see a lot of Em that week, except briefly through Lisa's window. It looked like the affair was on. The only time she stopped by was to ask me if she looked 'right'. She always looked better than right so I didn't have to lie.

On Friday I did something I never, ever do. I went in to the strip club I pass on the way home. The lot was full and the bouncer tried to mix friendliness and intimidation as he shock me down for the cover. It was dark and smelled of weak cigarettes, nothing like Emily's Gitanes. A long haired latino girl danced around a pole illuminated in bright purple light. I made my way to the bar passing a tall black girl with butch hair and enormous breasts. She winked at me and I couldn't help but notice the bills hanging from her garter.

I grabbed an open stool. To my left a middle aged construction worker stroked the back of a tiny oriental girl. She pressed her breast against his bicep and sipped from a low glass. The bartender wore tight black pants, high heals and white oxford, unbuttoned just enough to give me a peek down her shirt. And I peeked.

"What'll it be, sugar?"

'Sam Adams." I turned away to look at the Latin dancer, who was in the process of taking down her top. Her breasts were small and firm, much like I imagined Emily's would be. I felt someone brush against me.

"Hey baby what's up?" It was the black dancer I'd seen earlier. She had smooth skin the color of milk chocolate and I noticed for the first time an oriental cant to her eyes.

'Not much." I forced a smile.

"Honey you don't look so happy. You aren't supposed to be unhappy, not here." And she bent over giving me a look down her bikini top. Like I needed the advantage, for her breasts were huge, outsized as the rest of her was slim. Almost skinny. Almost like Emily looked in a bikini without the breasts or the color. I'd only seen Em in a bikini once, at the pool with Mary and drenched in sun screen. I wondered if Lisa would get her back there again.

"You like my boobies?" She put her hands under her top and began to juggle them so they bounced.

"I am a man." 

"I noticed baby. But you're all alone. And I need a place to get off these heels.

I nodded and made a bit of space. Four-inch heels seemed the rule in this club. "So what's your name honey?"

'Gary."

"I'm Ebony."

"You know, a girl works up a mighty big thirst shaking it up there.'

"Uh huh." I glanced at the stage where the long-haired latino girl was hanging upside down on the pole.

"Could you buy me a split of champagne?"

'How about a glass of wine."

"Fine, but I make a split last."

"Alright." I had been feeling flush after my last raise, and I had no will to refuse. I'd come here for feminine companionship, and it had come, albeit at a steep price. I pulled out the cash and paid the bartender, because I realized a tab would get me into serious money all too quickly.

"I've never seen you here before."

"I've never been here before."

"Well, glad you came?" She winked at me and leaned forward to offer a detailed view down her top. I looked too.

"I don't know yet."

"Well, I do. Handsome guy like you, dressed real nice, the girls will all be wanting to dance for you. I'm just glad I got here first?"

"I just wanted a drink."

"Need someone to drink with? Dancing makes a girl thirsty."

I laughed. I knew she was working me, but she winked and pushed up against me, and against my better nature I did notice that she was shapely, even if I suspected that Intel had as much to do with her figure as mother nature. I knew she was working me, but I had money but lacked a woman. Maybe she wasn't the woman I sought but she was sitting next to me and pretending that I was sexy. Pretend was good enough for me at that moment. 

The bartender removed my twenty and brought the girl, whose name I couldn't remember, a fruity looking drink that probably rated ten proof, if that.

"So what kinda music you like?" 

"The Blues."

"Like B.B. King?"

"Big Mama Thornton, Bonnie Raitt, Buddy Guy, Candye Kane."

"Candye Kane? Isn't she a big girl who used to be a stripper?"

"Porn star, actually."

"No shit? She was in films? She's awful big for that. I'm built a lot better than she is."

"But can you sing?"

"I sure can." She launched into a few bars from something Shakira or someone else. She had decent vocal tone too.

"You're not so bad, but Candye is better."

"Well, she isn't so pretty as I am. If she can get into porn, so can I."

"Getting in is easy. All you need is a DV camera and a fast desktop."

"Think so? There's some money there for a girl who likes to show what she has and has some titties. And I do had some titties. She jiggled them for effect, and got more motion than I suspected. 

I had to admit she was right. "So why do you want to get into porn?"

"First of all, I really like sex. I can't live without it for very long. That's why I like the job, lots of hot girls and horny guys. It's a lot easier to do a job if you like what you're doing. Second, I got a kid. I need to make some money now because I can't shake it forever."

I nodded in agreement and let her talk.

"It's hard raising a kid today, what with dentists, school clothes and such, especially by yourself."

"What about her father?"

"Her daddy's gone, killed in the war. My momma didn't raise me to be no 'ho. But I'm not raising my little boy in the ghetto neither. I shake my ass and I can afford a decent place. If I get into porn I can make some real money."

"I can't really argue with your logic, though you might want to try to get a college education."

She laughed, and I tried again to remember her name. "I couldn't stand studying when I was in school, why would it be different now that I'm out and have a kid."

"Because you understand the necessity."

"Bobby, what's your name . . "

"Gary."

"Gary, I ain't no science girl, if you know what I mean. I know what I know and that doesn't include Shake-spear or cosmopology."

"There's no such word as 'cosmopology'."

"I just made it up."

"Well, it might make Webster's for a few more editions."

"Hell, that's just a big heavy book anyway. Probably costs a fortune."

"They're cheap for what you get. You'll want one for your son, once he learns to read."

"He reads real good, they have him taking home a new book every week. When I make it home in time, I have him read me a bedtime story."

"What did he read you last time?"

"Story called "Make way for ducklings. Old book, it was my mama's."

"Damn, I go to a titty bar and find myself talking about children's books."

She laughed loud and clear and pressed her thigh and breast against me, the most contact allowable by law. And I laughed too, more than slightly aware of her body pressed against me, but also aware that something was missing. She was more than I expected, but I expected nothing and wanted everything. 

We talked a bit more before her turn came to dance. I watched from the bar, her body slowly swaying to the music, spinning around the pole. I could see her looking at me, but I could also see her work the men at the line of the bar, moving in close for their bills, her legs open, thighs almost touching their ear, moving sex merely inches from their mouths as they slid the bill beneath her garter. She winked at me and followed a young man behind a curtain.

"Ebony's giving a private dance," explained the bartender as she refilled my scotch. I didn't remember when I had switched to scotch. 

A petite blonde wearing a blue bikini dropped into the seat next to me. "Got a light?" she asked.

I pulled out the lighter I carried for Emily and lit her cigarette. "My name's Mickey." And she batted her eyes at me.

Ebony had been attractive, in the way of buxom young woman. Mickey was just plain beautiful in the way of fair-skinned Celtic girls, firm like a woman working the fields, every curve perfect, every movement liquid. She looked a lot like Lisa, only much fairer, and if possible firmer.

I bought her a drink too. "Did you like my dance," she asked, and I admitted I hadn't seen it.

"Yeah, I noticed you talking with Ebony. But she won't be back for a while. She's got a groom in there, a friend of her regulars. She'll give the boy a lap dance he won't forget. Probably more than a few." And then she winked at me.

"Well, I didn't come for a lap dance.

"So what did you come for? Window shopping?"

I laughed. "Distraction really. I didn't want to go home."

"Your old lady giving you hell?"

It took a moment to get the words out. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Just lose one?"

"I never had one, I suppose."

Mickey squeezed my arm, "That's the sort of words that always end up in a sad story Sombody got use you for something?"

"No, she didn't."

'You leave her?"

"Never."

Mickey leaned forward and took a long sip of simulated vodka. "Man you really are mixed up over somebody."

I laughed. 

"If you aren't having fun, it isn't worth it. We're here to party, right?" Mickey licked her lips and took a drink. I decided that her vodka bottle had to be filled with water—she'd never be able to stay slim —or coherent- drinking like that. There was a silence, long andawkward as neither of us knew what to say except that we were supposed to say something to each other. Finally, she asked me what I did.

"Architect."

"So you design buildings and such?"

I laughed. "Until recently I just designed parts of buildings and fixed technical problems. But I've finally had a drawing of mine accepted, a craftsman style home out in Venford."

"Venford's a pretty wealthy area."

"Nobody but wealthy people can afford a custom home. Especially with the good stuff. The good materials cost too much. Custom design ups labor costs too because you can't just slap it together."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Most the houses today have almost been stamped out like a car. Cookie cutter."

"Sounds like you like the old homes."

"I do. The old guys, Burnham, Richardson, Sullivan, Wright, Johnson, they had a sense of style, proportion. Everything fit, and since craftsmen built everything cool cost little more than mundane. Everyplace you look there's a little something a detail to set it apart. That's why so many of the older homes are so neat."

"I don't want an old house. I want a heater that keeps me warm."

"Oh, that can be done. Just takes money."

Mickey laughed. "Yeah, well if I had money I'd be out with some handsome guy in a tux. Or shopping. Or at home with the family."

"Even rich people don't get to do what they want all the time."

"Then what's the point of being rich?"

"To have more of what you want."

"Babe, I live for too much. Too much sleep, too much caffeine, too much sex."

"I believe in that too, but I don't have a girlfriend."

"You told me. You spend a lot of time dwelling on that don't you?"

"I suppose I do." Then I stopped and took a drink, and I thought of Emily's joy when she described how Lisa had done her."




Window Shopping



"So what is it with this girl? You can tell me. Strippers are a lot like bartenders. We're supposed to listen then keep our mouth shut."

I laughed. "Well, she's my next door neighbor. And she's sleeping with another neighbor."

"And you can't avoid them?"

"She's my best friend."

"What kind of friend fucks somebody else when her best buddy is next door?"

"A lesbian."

"She never does guys?"

"Not that I've ever seen."

Mickey draped her arm around my shoulder. "You are so screwed. We have some gay girls here. The only thing they like about men is their wallet."

"Emily likes me alright. She comes over all the time."

"Yeah, but she never comes. If I were you I'd get the heck out of there."

"You would?"

"Honey, the only thing carrying a torch does is make your arm tired. Your right arm, if you know what I mean." And with that Mickey winked at me and rubbed her bikini covered breast against my arm.

"My right arm's tired enough as it is. I should have hairy palms by now."

"So should I." And she winked again, and licked the edge of her glass.

I laughed and took another drink. There was another dancer on the pole, a brunette whose cleavage denied gravity. But I turned back at Mickey, and ran my eyes over her body. Her skin showed not a single flaw, soft and supple, and her body seemed so perfect."

"You like what you see."

"Uh huh." I barely got that out.

"I thought so. Why don't you get a table dance? They're only $20, thirty in private. Let me give you a private dance and I'll give you something to grow hair by."

I heard myself agree. Mickey winked and took my hand back to a small curtained booth. She sat me in my chair, drink at my side. 

"Keep your hands at your sides," she whispered mouth so close to me ear. "You can't touch me, not for real, not the way we'd both like. The bouncers will come because if they don't the cops will. Just sit back and enjoy, because this is for you." She stepped back but stayed close, but not too close, an arm's length away when she began to sway to the music. The tune was hip hop, I didn't recognize it and loud, but Mickey managed to slow it down, to make her movements sinuous as a belly dancer. She twirled and stood stood en pointe like a ballerina, every curve accentuated. The lines of her pale blue thong drew my eye to her sex. I watched her belly button, and her small, beautiful breasts which her bikini top so delightfully accentuated. She pirouetted and turned, and then I saw her back, rippling with muscle, and her buttocks, smooth and creamy, swaying back and forth.

I could feel my cock swelling and I wanted her, wanted her badly, so perfect and beautiful and so close. Mickey came closer and put her arms on the backs of my chair. She reminded me to keep my hands where they were and she came close, very close, her covered sex only inches from my mouth, so close that I could almost reach out and lick it.

"Do you like what you see?" 

"Do you even need to ask?"

"She giggled and spun and hunched over, her perfect bottom only an inch from my nose. I traced the line of her thong and made out her puckered pink back door. She was so close, and I wanted to just reach out my tongue and lick. I felt like the Sultan and understood why Scheherezade so captivated him. 

Then she spun again and her top was down. And her perfect breasts bobbed naked before me. She leaned over me and pressed her chest against me, my mouth between her breasts and began to rub. My cock was aching but my fingers stayed put. I knew the rules, no touching, no real intimacy just the fantasy. But I could feel her breasts around my head and I so wanted to just turn my head and lick.

"You're a sweet one," whispered Mickey, before she spun again and planted herself on my lap. Her buttocks moved band and forth, and on its own accord my erect cock founds its way into the crack, squeezed and rubbed, she moved. It loved it I savored it, but the song ended all too quickly and Mickey slipped away.

"That ought to give you something to think about tonight."

"It did." And I thought of her and Emily together. 

"You're a sweet guy. One of the nice ones. Get away from the dyke next door. I know you like each other, but it won't be any good for you until you get somebody of your own."

"Love advice from a stripper?"

"On the house. You're an architect. Build yourself a dream house." She winked again and began refastening her top. "It'll be my dance again out front in a minute. Hope you'll come watch."

I nodded. I took a drink. I walked outside. Mahogany was writhing on a table surrounded by young men. Mickey headed to the bar, and on the way by she exchanged glances with a tall mustachioed man in a leather jacket. Her lover perhaps? I reached for my car keys and headed for the door. It was dark outside, full dark and I spotted flashing lights in the distance. I took inventory of myself and realized I was in no condition to drive.

"Can you call me a taxi?"

He was big and beefy but he nodded, made the call and offered me some coffee. It arrived quickly, and I realized that tomorrow I'd have to get a ride back for my car. I thought I'd ask Emily. After all, her romance drove me there.

Then I reconsidered. I drove myself there. I chose that night because I wanted a night at the harem. I'd had that night. Now it was time to move on. Mickey was right, I needed to leave the apartment behind.

* **

I woke up around nine and made myself some coffee, and started some eggs. Slapped a couple English muffins in the toaster and knocked on Em's wall. It was a signal we had that breakfast was underway. If she wanted any she'd come over. Then it occurred to me that she might have something better to eat than food.

Five minutes later the door slid open and two ladies walked in. Em was in her usual morning sweats and Lisa trailed behind wearing tight jeans and a pink t-shirt the hugged her like a bear. She smiled at me as she shut the door.

"Got enough for a threesome?" Emily leaned over the counter grinning at me.

"I've got plenty. There's grapefruit juice in the fridge. Rule is you have to serve yourself."

"Thanks. " Lisa pulled open the fridge and pulled out the juice bottle. I'd left a cupboard cracked enough that she knew where to find the juice glasses.

"So where were you last night, white man?" Emily looked at me with intent. "Did you have a hot date?"

"I went to a bar."

"Meet anyone cute."

"Yes, but she already has a boyfriend."

"Is that all?"

"It's a long story Em. So what did Emily make for you last night?"

"Chicken cashew."

"I've had that before, it's quite good. Emily's quite the cook when she wants to be."

Lisa smiled at me. "So are you from what I've heard. And see. What all do you have in those eggs."

"Red pepper, garlic, scallions and gouda. With a bit of spice."

"Sounds really yummy. Smells that way too."

"Gary is the king of breakfasts," Emily announced. "His dinner menu is average white man, well done but predictable. But in the morning, he prepares a symphony!"

"Gosh, next time I'll borrow one of your ethnic cookbooks."

"Nah. Your spaghetti and meat loaf stand alone. You just need the right person to share the cooking chores."

Lisa observed that "A man that cooks is a man a girl hangs on to."

I laughed.

"You're right sweetie, but Gary's still a mite tender on that point."

"Carrying a torch only makes your arm tired."

I laughed. "Funny, I heard the same expression last night."

Lisa laughed. "Believe it. You're perfect. All a woman wants is a man who'll fill her every morning."

"Speak for yourself," said Emily, who walked over and give Lisa a lover's kiss.

"Hey, no mushy stuff in here! You two act like a couple girls."

Emily grinned back at me and pulled Lisa even closer for much longer kiss. I could see both of their nipples swelling as the kiss hung on.

After they broke it Lisa gave Em a small kiss on the nose and said, "We aren't being fair to our host here." And she walked on over to me and wrapped her arms around me, stood on her tip toes and pressed her lips to mine.

I was shocked and returned it perfunctorily, my eyes on Emily. But Lisa pulled me tighter. "C'mon, you can do better than that. How do you expect to get your name on the girl's restroom walls if you don't try?"

Emily grinned at me and nodded, so this time I tried. Really tried, tongue and all, And I'd have to say the effort left a nice tent in my jeans.

"He can kiss when he wants to! You ought to give him a nibble Emily. But first make him shave, you aren't supposed to invite a lady over before you shave." Then she went back and slid her arm around Emily and I'd be surprised if Lisa didn't give her a little goose. Which made Emily smile.

"Maybe I will have to kiss him someday. After he's shaved of course. That's one big advantage of kissing girls, baby soft skin all the time."

"I have baby soft skin, just not on my face."

"And what spot could hold such tender flesh, oh burner of eggs?"

I turned my attention back to the eggs. They weren't burned, but in definite readiness for serving. "Rustle up a couple plates there, little lady, because this grub is ready."

We ate quietly. Emily sat very close to Lisa, who seemed to take a neutral stance. I passed out marmalade. Lisa took a couple bites and announced that I was, in fact, "The King of Breakfast." For which I poured her a fresh cup of coffee.

"I'm glad to see you two getting a long so well." I finally said.

"It's been great," said Lisa after which she and Emily exchanged long looks.

The Emily leaned forward. "So tell me, where did you go last night? I dropped by with some leftovers but no one answered."

"I told you, I went to the bar."

"Which bar? You never seemed the type Gary."

I could feel myself blushing."

Emily giggled. "You went to Neon Platinum, didn't you?"

I blushed even more.

They both broke out with the giggles. Em grinned wickedly. "I didn't think you were that kind of guy, Gary."

"Emily, he's a man. They're all that type. The good ones just don't go often."

"But to go there and spend money just to ogle."

"Especially when he gets to ogle at home," said Lisa with a little wink.

I could not have blushed harder.

Emily leaned over the breakfast table and looked me in the eyes. "So, did you find any of the dancer's particularly hot?"

"There was this little blond named Mickey."

Emily laughed then whispered something to Lisa. "She gave me a table dance once."

It was my turn to laugh. "Em, I didn't think you were that kind of a girl."

"Of course I am, as you well know."

"Dancers like girl customers better," added Lisa, her grin growing. "They're generally more polite and flirting with a girl drives the men nuts. You get more tips."

"How do you know that?"

"I stripped when I was in school."

"You did?" Lisa's remark surprised Em as much as I. 

"It beat student loans."

"You have a point there," I said. " paid off my debt last year."

"Lucky you." Emily had another year and a half to go.

Lisa worked a lot of nights that week, and so did I because I had that week only to finish the home I'd been commissioned. Naturally I wanted it to be perfect, and worked overtime on even the tiniest details. By the time I got home I was exhausted and dropped right into bed. If Lisa offered me a show I would never have known. Em sent me a couple emails, forwarded jokes mostly and a futile order for me to stop working so hard.

However my boss agreed with Emily. I worked late re-engineering some of the faux gable bracing that partly distinguishes the style. I'd done two or six designs already and finally my boss booted me out the door after refusing to let me email the file home.

He told me to "Go out and get laid." He even suggested a bar "loaded with horny divorcees." Somehow I managed to keep my face straight, though I'm not sure that was the right thing to do. 

The last thing I wanted to do was visit a bar. Remembering what Emily said about my 'pedestrian' dinner fare, I bought a Caribbean cook-book at Borders, picked out a recipe and went out to pick up the ingredients. R&D cooking seemed like a good time sink.

I noticed something different when I arrived. Something really different. An Aston Martin parked in our lo, same on James Bond drove in Casino Royalle. It was green, its fenders flowed like liquid and the paint was perfect and I couldn't help but wonder what was a two hundred thousand dollar car doing in an apartment lot for twenty-somethings?

Drawing stares mostly.

I put away the perishables, changed into shorts and a tee-shirt and got out my cutting board and knives. A few minutes later I was slicing and dicing, and roasting plantains in butter.

Emily rapped on my door, and then pushed it open. "I smell melted butter." 

"With plantains."

"Plantains? You've never cooked with those before."

"I thought I'd try and remove the ennui from my dinner menu." I pointed at the cook book.

"Hmmm that does look good. Maybe I'll join you."

"Aren't you going out with Lisa?"

"No! She's been really nice but she said she couldn't see me this weekend. I haven't a clue why."

"Maybe she has to work. Networks geeks get called in when something goes wrong."

"Maybe, but I don't think so. If you had a hot, horny woman waiting for you wouldn't you at least lead her on some? You know, make and share some optimistic guess that would allow for a quickie."

"I'd tell the truth if I knew that was a dream. I believe in miracles, but not for me."

"Gary, you have to hope, believe me. I too have my dreams." She squeezed my arm. "Man that looks good. I'm going to outside and have a smoke."

I didn't think much of it. I just kept on chopping, and inspected my olive oil supply as the sliding door opened and closed. A moment later it slid open again. Emily raced by and out the apartment door. She was crying.

I dithered, slid the chopped veggies in the fridge and headed outside. I caught Lisa headed down the walkway in a very, very short dress, a well dressed older man on her arm. He opened the door to that exquisite green Aston Martin and she got in.

Oh crap.

I spun on my heels and headed over to Em's. I knocked on her door.

"Go away!" He voice was half broken, half a shriek.

"Are you going to be okay!"

"No!" I could hear things flopping around her apartment. In a way, that was a good sign. Nothing crashed, which meant Emily was having a solo pillow fight, venting her frustration on the walls and non-breakables. She'd broken things when Mary left.

I waited until things calmed then knocked again. The door popped open. I could see her mascara running down her cheeks. "It's your fault Gary, you're the one who gave me that damned bottle of wine and sent me over there."

"I know."

"It's not your fault! How could you know? You sit there with your computer and . . . " Emily shuddered. "I'm sorry. Of course you couldn't know." And she raced into my arms.

We stood there for a long time, arms wrapped around each other. She wept and her tears wet my shoulder, and I could feel her shudder. But her fingers were tender, alternating squeezes with the softer touches of a lover. The she pulled her head back and forced a smile. "I'm such an idiot. It was just a good time for me, and I started imagining things."

"What was that joke about lesbian dating you told me? The one where you can tell it's a first date because of the moving van."

"I think that's a second date. Hell, I don't remember." And she giggled for a second. "I'll be alright. I just forgotshe's a party girl."

"And she has a very rich party."

"Is she dating the guy with that Bondmobile?"

"Yep."

"Lord, that thing must cost a fortune."

"You could buy a brand new house."

"Materialist bitch! Next time I find myself a political girl."

'Like Sandra?"

"Oh, her." Emily rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Maybe it's time I went back to guys." Then she grabbed me again for another brief round of shuddering.

I held her for a long time, both of us saying nothing, just swaying together, and it lasted longer than her tears. Finally it broke and she kissed me softly on the lips.

"Thank you," she said and squeezed me again. "You have to be most supercalifragilistic guy in the whole wide world."

"Well come on over. I have dinner to finish, and we can keep the drapes shut."

Emily shook her head. "Hell no. Leave them open so she sees what she's missing. But we're not going to drink whiskey. Whiskey is for country songs and nothing could taste sadder. We will drink light fruity, girlie drinks."

"I don't have any."

"I do. I have all the rum and pina colada mix a body could desire."

"I guess I can drink those."

"You shall drink, and you will like them. Now you get going. I want to change before dinner."

"Why? You're fine as you are."

Emily laughed. "You are such a guy! Now shoo! I'll be over presently." And she pulled me into her arms again for a long, tight hug. 

"I love you, you know." Her words were barely audible."

"I love you Emily." Mine weren't. She took my face in her hands and looked at me, smiling. "Go next door white man. I'll be right over."

There was nothing else to do but go back to my zucchini. And so I did, resuming prep, heating the olive oil, boiling the chicken lightly to ensure thorough cooking, starting the rice. The recipe made sense, it was something I could do and do well. It smelled good too, and I began to think I ought to try some more exotic recipes. 

But the food cooked quickly, and I was beginning to worry, when Emily gave her characteristic warning knock then stepped inside. 

And my heart stopped. She was dressed like the anti-Em, a skin-tight shorty t-shirt with big lipstick mark. It hugged her braless breasts and her nipples poked out the fabric. She wore one of the shortest, must butt-hugging skirts I'd ever seen, with a captains cap, sunglasses and ruby red lipstick. She even wore heels. 

I felt like an idiot, but all I could do was stand there gape-jawed. I'd never seen her like that. He skin seemed to glow.

Emily laughed. "The nice thing about guys, is that you always know when you have their full attention. Girls are more subtle, though we're no better."

"Emily, anyone who wouldn't notice you tonight is already dead."

"Think Lisa will notice when she sees me through the window?"

"If she looks, she'll notice."

"Good. I want her to see the hot babe and beau hunk she could have been with."

"Em, you alone are the story. I mean, wow."

"I can tell. The tent gives you away."

I blushed. Emily giggled then went to get the blender.

My first effort at this sort of cooking turned out well, the spices could have been better but the tastes of the fresh things mingled well, and so we ate well. Emily mixed sweeter than strong, but that was a good thing. And she put on some music and we danced in my living room. We watched 'Adaptation' then went back to dancing. By the time midnight rolled around we were half crocked, and the music had shifted from urban dance to traditional rhythm and blues. Slowly it shifted from faster to slower songs and we began dancing closer and closer. Until we were locked in a slow dance together, her head on my shoulder, mine locked behind her waist, slowly swaying together. 

I was hard as a rock. She didn't pull away either, she pressed against me, and the warmth of her, the shifting fabric and her nipples against my chest kept me at attention. It wasn't more than that really, not a big grope session, just two people dancing together really close.

Finally Em leaned back and looked at me, really looked at me. "Your face is a bit scratchy, but this didn't turn out to be a bad night after all."

"You want me to go shave?"

'No. It's the way you are." And she pressed her cheek against mine. "it's funny about men, you're so much harder everywhere, and I'm not talking about the obvious," and she wiggled her hips in emphasis, "But the edges! The scratch of your beard those big shoulders. Mary was pretty strong, but you, you're so much more big and powerful."




Window Shopping



I had been having a bad day, my boss was being a bitch, and my girlfriend was fighting with me for no good reason. So I asked my best friend to meet me at the coffee shop so I could talk to her about it. My girlfriend would be pissed when she found out I was meeting Denise, but I didn't care at the moment. As I pulled up to the coffee shop it seemed pretty empty, just a woman sitting in the window. 

As I walked up to the front door my eye caught something I never thought I would see; her legs were wide open. She was exposed to the world, I didn't know if she meant to do it but she clearly wasn't wearing any underwear. Her clean-shaven pussy smiling at me quickly brightened my day. I walked happily into the coffee shop. 

Denise, standing up as I came into view smiled. 

"Vic, it's been too long," she hugged me.

"I know it! How long has it been?"

"Since you started dating Cindy," she laughed. "So how is that bitch?" 

"She's crazy, for some reason I'm doing everything wrong. She sits at home all day while I slave over file after file at work all day, come home and she has spent all my money on crap that no one wants. Or she wants me to buy something for her," I ranted. 

"Wow, I told you she was going to go all psycho on you," Denise smiled, as she ordered a latte from the waitress. My eyes wandered until they found the woman in the window exposing herself to the world. Denise noticed I was watching her, asked what I was staring at.

"When I was walking in..." I trailed off, remembering her wet snatch. "The woman at the window, she isn't wearing any underwear!" I whispered with excitement.

"What? How do you know that?" Denise asked unbelievingly.

"Her skirt, she has it propped open so everyone who walks by can see. It's fucking amazing."

"Now that's the kind of girl you should be with!" Denise laughed. "Both whores, you'd be perfect for each other."

"Hey, that hurts! You've wanted to fuck me for years," I argued. "So I can't be that bad."

"Meh, it was a moment of weakness. And that moment has long passed!" Denise s smiled as the waitress brought us our coffees. 

The woman had her hand inside her skirt, I was sure she was masturbating in the window. I wondered how many people had noticed. Sure none had, "how sad," I thought to myself. If anybody had noticed, they would have been in for an amazing treat. 

"How long's it been since you've been laid?" Denise asked me.

"How long's it been since YOU'VE been laid?" I asked defensively.

"Last night actually, she was amazing. Man, last night...I was out at the bar and this girl was there clearly fighting with her boyfriend. This guy was at the bar just watching the whole fight. I was sure he was going to pounce on the poor girl, I think she wanted it too. As she was fighting she kept her eye on the guy at the bar. He was cute enough, one of those Malibu rich kid types. He probably worked out every day, drove a nice car, and would have been a fun fuck for about ten minutes. Until he came all over her stomach, rolled over and passed out in seconds, leaving her there to clean up his fucking mess.

"Well, as the couple left, this dude just watched her leave. He didn't get up or anything. So I followed her out. Her boyfriend left in the car without her, peeling out as he left. She was left there crying, clearly fucked up. I walked up to her consoling her. She told me she had always thought her boyfriend was going to be the one, until she came home and found him cheating on her. He actually asked if he could have a threesome with the two women! Can you believe that shit?"

"Ha, no...what a dumb ass," I laughed, thinking how it didn't sound like too bad of an idea. Ask this girl in the window home with me, maybe my girlfriend would shut the fuck up when she saw me fucking her brains out.

"Well, I invited her home. Told her I had free alcohol there. She quickly jumped in my car, crying all the way home. We drank two full bottles of tequila as the night went on she became more and more slutty. I actually convinced her to get back at her boyfriend... with me!"

"No fucking way!" I exclaimed. "How the fuck do you get so lucky, I wish I had gotten laid any time recently."

"Aren't you the one with the girlfriend? Shouldn't you be getting laid right now?" Denise joked. "Anyway, so as we finished the first bottle this girl told me she had never kissed a girl before. So I quickly gave her that experience, her lips tasted like the cherry lip-gloss she had on. I told her where else she should apply the lip-gloss, but she was WAY too shy for that shit.

"I dared her to stick an ice cube in her pussy, you wouldn't believe how quickly she stripped out of every thread of cloth she had on her body. Oh man, she was fucking perfect. Just begging to be fucked!"

My cock throbbed against my pant leg, just imagining Denise and this other chick; wishing I had been there, rather than sleeping on the couch.

"She did it too, but after she did she screamed that it was too cold. I told her I knew a way to warm her up and to melt it at the same time. So I brought her to my living room, put her down on the couch and started licking the ice cube out. Her clit popped up quickly, begging for attention. She tasted so fucking good, moaning as I lapped at her. 

"She played with her nipples as I sucked her clit HARD. She moaned and cried so loud, I was afraid I was going to have noise complaints. But before long she couldn't take it anymore, she begged me to fuck her. She kept calling me Kevin, I guess she was so fucked up she thought I WAS her boyfriend. I brought her to my room and took out my double-dildo. Man, she looked like a fucking angel perched on top of me, her pussy pushed open by that blue dildo you got me for Christmas."

"I told you you'd fucking use that!" I exclaimed, a little louder than intended, as everyone in the coffee shop turned to look at us; even the woman in the window. 

"Shut up, I know. And it was fucking perfect! She came so quickly with it deep in her. After I made her lick me, she said I tasted so much better than anything she had ever tasted before. I think she was lying about never being with a woman before, because she sucked the shit outta my clit. I was squirming and moaning when she stuck her finger up my asshole. Imagine my fucking surprise, I'm just about to cum and she sticks her finger in my ass!"

"How'd that go for you?" Asked laughing at the thought.

"Fuck, I came so hard. I wish I could actually bring myself to doing anal, I'm just too prudish about that I guess. That won't ever change!" She laughed, looking over at the woman at the window. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"I'm just fed up with life, ya know? I'm just sick of this shit," I exclaimed, taking a drink of my coffee.

"Well maybe it's time you found a new fuck buddy, go talk to the woman in the window," she pointed to the beauty. "If you don't you know I'm gonna take her home and fuck the shit outta her."

"Fine, I'll do it!" I was determined.

"Will you?" Denise knew me too well, I was way to shy to even step up to the woman. 

"How 'bout this, if you go over there and it doesn't work out, I'll let you be the first and only to fuck me in the asshole. If it DOES work out, I get to tell your bitch of a girlfriend. But if you don't do it, you get to walk outside and whack off in front of her."

"I'm on my way," I stood up again. Starting to walk over to the woman. 

Halfway there I realized I couldn't do it. Walking out to my car, I sat in front of the window, staring as she rubbed her wet clit. I pulled my cock out, struggling to pull it free of my tight jeans. I started stroking myself, watching her cunt intently. She rubbed faster and harder, I wondered if she saw what I was doing. Her wetness was dripping down onto the chair as she rubbed. She buried her finger deep in her pussy, gasping as she did, nearly knocking the cup on her table over. Suddenly, she began to shudder, her legs seized up. She came so hard she almost fell out of her chair. Soon after, I shot my load so hard it splashed my front window. 

Laughing to myself, I sat back. Realizing what a show we just put on together. I started my car and pulled out, looking back just in time to watch Denise walk out hand in hand with the girl. Damn, I can't wait to hear about how that night went! 



Window Shopping



She stared at the curtains covering the large bay window in her room. For weeks she had been toying with the idea of pulling the curtains open as she walked around and did her chores nude in her fourth floor apartment. This was her typical routine anyways. She had always felt that clothing was over rated. The less encumbered and restricted feeling was a wonderful change: nothing to fit against her body in unflattering ways. But to open those curtains, that would be a challenge. People walked by and drove on the tree lined road all day and most of the night. Her window was the only one not obscured by the reaching tree branches. She had specifically looked to see if that was the case. There would be nothing to hide her. 

She swallowed hard, the thought of fulfilling a little bit of her exhibitionist fantasy making her breath come a little faster. 

"Just open the curtains. You're still mostly dressed. One step at a time," she thought to herself, giving a little pep talk to her shaking hands as she reached for the cord. Slowly, she opened the curtains, leaning across her bed and window seat to look down into the street as the thick cloth moved out of the way. The fall day had turned into a brisk early evening. The wide ledge where she had often curled up with some pillows and a good book as the sun shown in during the warmer months seemed like another stark obstacle instead of her sanctuary. 

"Ok. Stand on the ledge. Wave at people. Try to get their attention. See if anything happens. You're high enough up, they might not even be able to see you." 

Hearing herself talk it out seemed ludicrous but helpful at the same time. She jumped up and down in her comfy tank top and shorts, waving enthusiastically at the pedestrians below. 

"Hmm. Not even a glance. This is good," she thought, smiling to herself. She had gained a little more confidence. She let her hair down out of the ponytail and shook it out to its soft fullness. Running her fingers through her hair, she pretended she was a model posing for a camera in her reflection, changing stances and twirling around on the window seat to the music she had going in the background. She giggled quietly to herself. No one had noticed her. 

Feeling a bit more adventurous, she pulled the tank top off over her head, tossing it behind her. Now she was just in a pair of shorts and her lacy bra. 

"Still nothing? Awesome," she thought, glancing down again. No stares or waves or gestures. Her heart was racing. She had gone this far and no one had noticed. Why not continue and truly try out the fantasy? She bit her lip in thought. Swiftly making up her mind, she raced to her closet and snagged the bandit mask from her costume drawer and clambered back over her bed onto the white, pillow-laden ledge before she could lose her nerve. "No need in risking anyone being able to recognize me after this," she thought, slipping the mask over face, tying the black satin behind her head. She peered through the eyeholes, gauging the light. She realized that she had left the brightest lamps on in her apartment, which would completely illuminate her body, as it got darker outside. 

"Well, if you turn the lights off, then this would be a completely pointless exercise. There wouldn't be any chance for anyone to see you, you ninny," she chided herself, grinning at her masked reflection.

She leaned up against the clear window, pressing herself to the chill glass. She felt her nipples harden under the thin lacy material that was one of her final layers as she tried to gather her thoughts. She took a deep breath, and still leaning against the glass she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, careful to not pull her sheer boy short panties down yet, maneuvering them over her hips to drop around her ankles. Stepping out of them with one foot she kicked them across the room with the other. Now she was only in her lingerie and mask. Her chest heaved up and down with excitement, her large soft tits ready to jump out of their thin protection at any moment. 

Emboldened, she moved to the music, gyrating her hips slowly she turned around as she reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She held it against herself for an instant then let it drop. She half turned, looking down at the street again. A couple people had stopped, doing double takes at the sight of her doing a strip tease in the middle of the window. Her stomach fluttered, "They won't be able to recognize me. Just keep going. You've done this much." Facing the window full front, she kept dancing, touching herself, running her fingers across her smooth skin of her waist, touching her hips lightly. She brought her hands back up her body and fondled herself, twisting her hard nipples lightly. Bringing one hand to her mouth, she licked her fingers seductively. 

A couple more people had stopped to stare while others only spared a quick look before scurrying away. She brought her fingers down and slid her hand under her panties, feeling the smoothness and began lightly rubbing her clit, still squeezing and caressing her tits. She had closed her eyes and had begun to enjoy the moment, finally beginning to not care who saw her. Still dancing to the music, she brought her fingers back to her mouth and sucked her moisture from them. With one last inner battle, she turned sideways and shifted her panties down her legs. She was bent over as she stepped out of the last vestiges of clothing and danced to face front again, pressing her body to the glass once more and sliding up it, revealing her clean-shaven front to the now small crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk beneath her window. She spread her legs, knowing that from their angle they would be able to see her entire pussy. She caressed her smoothness, sliding her hands between her thighs, her arms pushing her large tits out even more against the glass, her hard nipples pressed against them. She moved her hands up her thighs and touched the lips of her pussy. 

She teased herself, running her fingers softly across the lips with one hand, the other still circling her nub. She dipped one finger into her pussy, her increasing wetness a slight surprise. She brought the finger out, licking it clean, only to put it back inside, this time with two fingers. She used the thumb of the same hand to stroke her clit as she worked her fingers inside and out of her pussy, her other hand tugging and playing with her nipples. She turned around and bent over, this time pressing her firm ass against the glass, leaving her pussy completely open to the stares of the passersby. She opened herself up with her fingers, giving them a good look. As she was bent over, she noticed her vibrator that she had left on the nightstand next to her bed. 

"Might as well do this right," she thought, grabbing it up.

She switched it on with one hand as she turned back around. She held it against her clit, her mouth open slightly as the vibrations sent a wave of pleasure through her body. She slid it back and forth across her slightly open slit, feeling her body react and moisten the tip of the toy. She darted a quick glance at her observers. She couldn't make out any of the upturned faces, which was probably a good thing. A few seemed to be trying to egg her on, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. She had a feeling she knew what they wanted, so she slipped the tip of the vibrator inside, continuing to rub her little clit. From the obvious fist pump in the air from one of them, she knew she had guessed right and a smile slipped across her face. She pushed the vibrator a little further in slowly, feeling it move and twist inside of her. A small moan escaped her lips, continuing the slow push in, then stopped and pulled it most of the way out, then back in a little more. Repeating this, the vibrator was eased all the way into her. Once it was, she left it there for a few seconds without holding it, just letting it stay inside her pussy and vibrate against her g-spot as she continued to play with her clit and rub her tits, pushing them against the cold glass again. 

She went back to thrusting the vibrator in and out of her tight pussy. Through her now half-closed eyes she watched the group of people below her, hoping that none of them would call the cops before she was done. Her movements began to gain urgency as she got closer to her climax. She could feel it building, the heat and the pleasure coursing through her body. Her lips her parted and she licked them in anticipation. Her brows furrowed, her breath coming in short gasps as she worked the vibrator in and out even faster as she rubbed furiously at her clit. 

She was at the peak; she could feel it. Then, the dam broke and she felt her orgasm course through her, her pussy clenching around the vibrator as clear liquid sprayed the glass. She smiled to herself as she sagged against the window, her legs unable to hold her anymore. She slid down to a half laying position in front of the window through the wet of her ejaculation. "That's a new one. I've never been able to make myself squirt before. Need to do this more often." Looking down, the group of pedestrians were applauding and giving thumbs up, but of course there were a few that seemed mortified and there were several people on their cell phones and gesturing wildly.

She laughed aloud to herself, panting, laying in front of the window nude except for the thin black material, now lopsided on her face, as the small crowd dispersed after they realized the show was over, "Oh yeah. The neighborhood is going to start calling me the naked bandit."

She realized that there were still a couple people still standing outside and they were shouting at her. She couldn't hear them, but she didn't care if they were angry or not, because she had had a great time. Then the trouble started.

To be continued...



Window Shopping



So... I'm an old married guy. I've been married since I was nineteen and now I'm fifty-three. We, my wife and I, I mean, have something that's pretty, rare now days. We've been married for the entire time, thirty-four years. I'm sure most of you would think it was because we're so wonderfully in love and we share everything and are so open and honest with each other. Bullshit! I'm here to tell you, right now, marriage is all about understanding what to say to your spouse and what not to say. If your wife asks if she looks pretty, I don't care what you think, you had better smile and tell her that she looks as beautiful now as when you married. Your life might depend on it and I'm convinced your marriage definitely does.

And it's compromise, too, that's what it is! If she wants to have a candle lit meal at a French restaurant and you want a steak and a beer, you need to let her have her way. If she wants to watch some chick-flick on Lifetime and you're watching a ball game you better have a little TV in the basement. It's because I believe in compromise in our marriage that I go shopping at the mall with her once a month.

She just kind of goes nuts at the mall. She has to look in every dress shop there and she always buys something and swears to me that it was on sale and was some fantastic deal. I let her shop where she wants and buy what she wants. I make enough that it isn't a problem as long as she doesn't go overboard. I follow her for a while, but then I can usually tell her I'm tired of walking and I find a seat on the husband bench until she's finished and we can go home.

It's better now that the mall has Wi-Fi. I take the laptop and watch a digital feed game, or do my weekly expense reports. It's a little hard to concentrate, though, because I like to do what I call 'window-shopping.' It never fails that the women in the mall dress pretty nice. They don't usually want the other women to see them looking shabby, so they wear the tight jeans or the short skirts and get their hair fixed nice. I like to watch the women in the mall. Alright, I'm married, I know I can't touch. I'm window-shopping.

Last month there wasn't a game on and the wife had just kissed me and was heading for the shoe store, so I took a seat on the bench and started shopping. My wife wasn't even out of sight and I was already checking out this college girl. She was walking past in a little cotton pleated mini-skirt and cut-off tee, with one of those pink hoody things. The hoody was too short to cover her waist, but the sleeves were so long that they flopped past her wrists to her palms and the hood too small to actually wear. Besides her legs, which were really nice, what caught my attention was her hair. I'm a hair man. She had this fantastic, too-blond, long hair that was way past her shoulders and just all over spilling down her back.

I sat on the bench a little bit watching the girls go by and she came back up the other side. We were on the second floor, and there was an open area between my side and her side where you could look down at the first floor through the handrail. She strolled up and sat down right on the other side across from me, right on the bench on the far side. I can't help but check out her legs. She had the greatest skinny college girl legs with smooth, round knees and a little pair of topsiders, canvas, tennis shoes.

She was just sitting there and she took out a spiral notebook and started reading. I figured she must be doing her homework or something. She sat there the longest time. I filled up my eyes checking out her legs and her heart-shaped, pretty face and wishing she would shift enough so that I could see up her skirt a little. Ok, so I'm a pervert. Life is short, at my age I get all the thrills I can. Eventually a girl walked by that caught my attention and I watched her until she was out of sight, then I looked back.

She must have turned a page while I was looking away, because her spiral notebook page had something written on the back, the page facing me, in big magic-marker letters that said, "Hi, I'm Brittney." I thought it was sort of funny. She must have been writing a note to some guy and it was still in her notebook. I probably smiled about it and thought how lucky the guy was. I didn't know who she was flirting with, but I hope somebody somewhere was getting something off of that tiny, little, college-girl body of hers.

But then she turned another page and there was another note written on it in magic-marker that said, "I like to show off." I was thinking, "what does that mean." Was that note for me, or was it still something she wrote to some guy at school? She was just sitting there, smiling, and still reading her notebook. I thought that she must know what was written on the back of the notebook, since it was probably what she had been looking at before she turned the page, unless she was turning a few pages at a time. Was that what she was doing?

She was still smiling when she turned the page. Now the back of the notebook said, "if you like me, scratch your chin." I was scratching my chin instantly without even thinking. It was sort of automatic.

She had barely glanced up, but she was still smiling. She shifted in her seat and crossed her legs and I watched every microsecond. She was sitting pretty proper and I didn't see anything except the back of a little of her thigh. It was good, though. Smooth California tanned legs as far as the eye could see.

She just sat like that for a while, but I didn't take my eyes off of her. I don't think a fire alarm would have made me take my eyes off of her. I had pretty much decided that she had been flirting with some college guy and I was just imagining that she was sending me messages but I was seeing what she had written to him. But I was still watching. I was just hoping she would move a little more when she turned a page again.

She did this one a little different. She put the notebook on her lap so that I couldn't see the back of it and grabbed a divider on a page and turned it. I could see it had magic-marker on it when she turned it, but I didn't see what it said until a minute later when she lifted it just enough so that I could read it. Now it said, "if you want to see my breast." That was all there was room for on the page. She laid it back on her lap after she let me see. I couldn't wait for the rest of the message. I was sitting there nodding my head up and down like an idiot.

She turned the page, still smiling, but never really looking at me, as if she was just a girl sitting on a bench in the mall and reading. The new page said, "tug your ear." I tugged my ear right away. I didn't know if she ever saw. She was pretty cool about it. She just sat there and smiled and let the notebook back down on her lap. In a few seconds she slipped her hand to the bottom of her tee shirt, just inside her open hoody and it seemed like she was absent-mindedly scratching an itch on her ribs. Instead her hand raised the tee shirt just far enough that I caught a quick glimpse of the bottom lobe of her breast and a quick shot of tiny, brown nipple.

It seemed like it was getting a little hot in the mall, all of the sudden. I was pretty excited, I'm not kidding. She was just sitting there smiling. I think it occurred to me about this time that there might be someone else watching, so I looked around me and in the store behind, but there wasn't anyone there. When I looked back she had already turned a page and the new page said, "want to see again?" I pulled my ear, again.

Very slowly she ran her hand to the bottom of her shirt and lifted it slightly. I saw a pierced belly button and she moved like she was scratching again, only the shirt came up far enough that I saw a perfect nineteen-year-old, B-cup breast with a small innocent looking nipple and an untanned triangular bikini line running across it.

If I close my eyes I can still imagine it. It was perfect and perky, with smooth skin. I'm not a big breast guy. I love the small ones. I love thinking about how it would feel and taste and how the tiny little nipples would react when sucked on and nibbled. 

I only saw it for less than a second, but it was great, etched forever indelibly on my brain. She let the tee shirt back down and just sat there, smiling. In a few minutes she turned a page again. The back page said, "want to see the other one?" Ear tug.

She shifted a little, smiling the entire time, eyes down...she was reading a notebook, after all. She shifted the notebook to her left hand and the right one slid along her tiny waist and flipped the bottom of her tee shirt to expose her left breast to me for a heartbeat or two, and by now my heartbeat was a little fast. Her smile broadened a little and she shifted again. By now I was a little uncomfortable myself. I had a tent going that was a little painful. Here was this gorgeous, young girl toying with me and I was having a day I would remember for a long time. I was hoping my wife would take her time shopping.

The girl turned another page. "Both?" it said. I tugged an ear and she turned a page and it said, "wait." I was waiting. For the first time she was openly looking around. She looked up the mall one way and the other, and even looked down to the first floor. Some people were passing by behind me, then some more, but in a few minutes she leaned up a little and looked down and she raised her shirt up completely, giving me an unobstructed view of her firm, beautiful breasts. They weren't big, but they were so nicely shaped like firm nectarines, the smooth skin crossed by tan lines. Before the next bunch of shoppers passed she had let her shirt back down. For the first time she looked directly at me and smiled a broad smile.

I thought I was in love. If I had been thirty years younger I would have been buying roses. I was hoping we weren't finished. She shifted in her seat and uncrossed her legs, a movement that I didn't miss.

Page turn...sign says, "more?" Ear tug. She grinned her pretty girl grin again and she messed with the hem of her skirt. Her knees parted just a little. I got the idea she was toying with me. She looked at me again and turned a page in the notebook.

She left the notebook in her lap for just a few seconds more while some shoppers walked past, then she held it up. "I'm a magician," it read. That one seemed a little strange. Another page turned, she held it down for a minute and toyed with the hem of her skirt, then lifted the notebook and I read "Now you see it..." "See what," I was thinking?

Her knees spread a little more and she flipped up the edge of her skirt like she was straightening it and I caught a quick view of white panties. I must have been grinning like an idiot.

She didn't hesitate this time, but she turned a page and laid the notebook in her lap, picked at the hem of her skirt, and the next thing I read was "now you don't." The perfect round knees came apart again and she tugged at her skirt, but this time I caught sight of a smoothly shaved pussy with what looked to be a tiny patch of pubic hair above it.

The look on my face must have been a riot, because she broke into a huge smile and gave a little laugh. She turned the pages of the notebook back to where it had been before and flashed the page that said "Now you see it...," again. "She has that backwards," I was thinking. She giggled a little bit as she played with the hem of her skirt. When she straightened her skirt this time she moved a little slower and more deliberately and she was wearing panties again. She broke into a little snicker and turned the pages again. "Now you don't" I read again. She picked at the hem of her skirt again and raised it and I was looking at her trim, smooth pussy lips again. She laughed a little college girl laugh, this time, and fell a little sideways, but straightened up again and flipped back a few pages. I read "now you see it..." again and she picked at the hem of her skirt, lifted it, and I saw a pretty pair of demure, teenage girl, white panties, then flipped pages forward and flashed "now you don't" and picked at her skirt. She flashed me again, this time giving me a nice long look as she shifted her feet and ankles a little pigeon-toed and parted her legs. I got a wonderful look at her tight pussy and for the first time I noticed that the neatly trimmed patch was shaped like a tiny exclamation point.

She straightened up and fixed me in a wicked look with a little mischievous smile while she flipped pages. She sat up straight on the bench, gathered herself a little and turned a page in the notebook. "See it all?" it said. I had to keep myself from tugging my ear off. She just almost openly laughed. Pages turned. "Wait," it said.

She innocently looked around her, checking for other shoppers and people walking past. It was tearing me up that the mall was busy that day. I found myself silently cursing the shoppers, slowly walking along and talking about this window and that store. An old lady was toddling along and a lady with a baby in a stroller went by. I was seriously ready to tear out some hair, if I had enough hair to grab anymore. In a few minutes, though, there was a break in the traffic. She fixed me with a direct look and raised her eyebrows at me in a coquettish look. Her tee shirt quickly lifted and exposed both her perfect, nubile, young breasts to me and she lifted the edge of her skirt. I was looking at a beautiful young girl as near to completely naked as I had seen in years.

I couldn't have been more excited if I had won the lottery. I knew she was playing a game with me and I had no hopes that a married fifty-three year old guy was going to be seduced by a blond, vivacious college girl, but it was certainly the most excitement that I had in a long time. I just sat there drinking in the smooth, slim lines of her young figure and thinking about the way her perfect, naked skin looked. The biggest surprise was yet to come.

She actually stood up and walked across the little bridge between my side and hers and sat down on the other side of my bench, close enough that her side was touching mine. She twisted around and started talking to me.

"Did you like that," she asked?

"Oh, God, yes," I blurted out to her. I was turned enough to see her and studied the lines of her face.

"I like doing that." She tilted her head a little to nod to the rotunda at the center of the mall a few stores away. "See the guy down there in the green jacket?"

I looked to see a slim, dark haired guy standing at the railing and watching us.

"That's my boyfriend. We both like doing this. It's exciting for us."

"Your boyfriend doesn't mind if you do this?"

"No, he likes that men look at me and think I'm sexy. It makes him want me more."

"Really?"

"Yeah, when we leave we're going back to our apartment and make out like crazy."

"Do you always do this here at the mall," I asked? I was hoping for another free show someday.

"No, we aren't even from here. We pick a different place every time."

"Too bad."

She grinned at me. "You're a cute old guy. I saw you with your wife when you sat down. That's sweet."

"Oh?"

"Would you do something for me?"

"Um," I wasn't too sure about what she was going to ask me, "yeah, I guess."

"I just want something to think about. When your wife comes back and you get home, have sex with her...," she leaned over close like she was being confidential, "and think about me."

"Oh I think you can be certain about that." I grinned at her big.

"Is she anywhere around right now?"

I looked up and down carefully before I told her that she wasn't around.

She stood up and leaned over to me, making her little scratching movement as she did and when she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek I felt her bare nipple brush my arm.

"Bye," she said and briskly walked away. I watched her pretty ass bouncing under her skirt the entire way to her boyfriend. They kissed a long, warm kiss and he walked her off laced arm in arm. She turned back once and smiled at me and gave a little wave.

I had the damnedst time waiting for my wife to come back. I wanted to go looking for her once or twice, but she finally showed up about a half-hour later. She had to show me all the fabulous things she bought, so I listened, or pretended to, intently. I walked her to the car, carrying all the bags and let her tell me about what great bargains she found and what a smart shopper she had been.

We got home and I let her try on a dress to show me and I couldn't wait any longer. I grabbed her. I just grabbed her. I told her that seeing her in her new dress made me remember how beautiful and sexy she was, and I wanted to lay her down on the bed and make love to her right that minute. She protested quite a bit, but she always did love sex, so it didn't convince me.

"What if the kids come home," she was trying to ask me?

"Johnny got paid yesterday and Tom has that girlfriend of his. They're supposed to be home by midnight, but I don't think we'll see them before that." I wrapped her up in my arms and started kissing her neck. She started shuddering. She never could resist that, when I kissed her on the neck.

I locked the bedroom door and got her new clothes off and the two of us, fifty-three years old, both, made love like teenagers. At least, I was pretending she was a teenager. Sure, it took some doing and some imagination, but it really wasn't that difficult. I always did love her body. I played with her breasts and held them up until they almost seemed to be the breasts of a young, college girl. I kissed her skin and played with her and then I made fierce love to her, as fierce as my middle-aged heart would let me. I think I broke my promise a little. I didn't think strictly of Brittney the entire time. I slipped a few times and was just thinking of my wife some. 

When we finished she laid up next to me and wanted to know what got into me that day. I did what a good husband that wants to keep a good marriage should do. I lied my ass off. I told her that I had been watching her try on clothes that day and I just remembered what a beautiful, sexy woman she was, and I wanted to make love to her. She cuddled with me and smiled.

"Well, if watching me try on clothes affects you like this, I need to take you to the mall more often."

Oh, hell. Compromise, man.



Window Shopping



I was only going to be in town for a few days. We both wanted to spend as much time together as possible, especially alone. But I had wanted to take you shopping for some lingerie for some time. So, off we went.

The drive to the store was a torturous trip to heaven and back as you insisted on stroking my cock until it was hard and then slipping it into your mouth, working it with your lips and tongue. You never let me get close to cumming, teasing me with your mouth, bringing me right up to the edge and then easing off. The grin on your face told me how much you were enjoying this.

And to tell the truth, despite the ache that was building up, I was enjoying it too. We pulled up to a store out on the edge of town. You chose this place because you knew no one would know you here. Walking in, I gazed hungrily at all the lingerie, picturing in my mind's eye you wearing each and every one. 

You quickly ran through the store, picking outfits as you went. Teddies, lace, silk, whatever caught your eye. You moved to the dressing rooms and I followed, pulling up a chair just outside. You smiled down at me and closed the door behind you.

You changed quickly and what followed was a procession of outfits that left me breathless. In all honesty, I would never remember the outfits, only how happy you looked trying them on. With one outfit, a pink camisole with matching panties, you came out and sat on my lap, softly grinding against me. I groaned, reaching for you, but you playfully slapped my hands away as you reentered the dressing room.

Unable to take any more, I glanced around quickly, scanning the area to ensure we were alone. Sure that no one would be walking our way anytime soon, I opened the door and slipped in behind you. You gasped in surprise, but the smile on your face gave you away. You were hoping I would take the hint.

I grabbed you and pulled you into me, kissing you deeply and passionately. My hands slipped under the camisole top, massaging your breasts and nipples. You moaned as you felt my hardness pressing against you. I quickly spun you around, pressing you against the wall as I quickly unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. 

I slipped myself into your soaking wet pussy and began to pound into you from behind. You moaned, biting your lip to try and stay quiet. My hands were on your hips, pulling you into me in a fierce staccato rhythm that left you breathless.

We tried to be silent, tried to keep our noise down and not be too obvious, but something we did must have given us away. The door to the dressing room suddenly flew open and a young woman, the cashier and only employee working that day, stared, stunned as she watched me pound into you.

The realization that we had been caught did not shock us into modesty. On the contrary, it drove us harder and faster until you exploded in an orgasm and screamed my name, begging me to fuck you harder and faster. Without realizing what she was doing, unable to control herself, the young cashier's hand crept down the front of her skirt, massaging herself as she watched you climax.

When your orgasm subsided, you pushed me away and pulled the cashier towards you, kissing her deeply. You pulled her shirt up, revealing her small, firm breasts unhindered by a bra. You did not remove her shirt though, leaving it bunched up just above her pert breasts. Leaning down, you took one of her nipples into your mouth and she moaned.

Then you pushed her down to her knees, guiding her face to my rock hard cock. She hesitantly opened her mouth, slowly taking me in. Once the flavor of your juices on my cock hit her though, she began to suck me more readily, relishing the combination of your taste and my hardness.

You knelt down next to her. The two of you took turns sucking me, bringing me to the edge and letting me back down slowly. Taking a quick glance outside, you whispered something to the young woman. She nodded and went to pull down her shirt, but you merely shook your head. She swallowed nervously but walked off with her tits still exposed. She came back moments later. I knew that you had sent her to lock the front door.

You had not wasted any time while she was gone. You pulled up the chair that I had recently sat in. When the young woman returned, you sat down on the chair, spreading your legs over the arms. I smiled and kissed the young woman, enjoying the feel of her lips but not as much as I did yours. I knelt down and reached under her denim skirt, sliding her lacy thong panties off of her.

She bit her lip nervously. It was obvious she had never before been in a situation even remotely like this. This may well have been her first threesome as well. I threw the soaked panties over my shoulder and turned her to face you. I gently pushed her down to her knees, guiding her face into your soaking wet pussy.

She licked you, inexpertly at first, until some small direction from you got her moving more naturally, comfortably. The way your eyes rolled back and the moan that escaped your lips told me she was doing much better. I knelt down behind her, sliding her short skirt above her waist and exposing her pussy and ass to me.

I slid my cock into her without preamble, without warning. She gasped, partly in pain but mostly in pleasure. I began to pound into her, not bothering with the gentle teasing I preferred to start with on you. Soon, you both exploded, almost simultaneously, and I grinned, fighting back my own climax, as difficult as it was.

I held back because there was something else, another hole to fill. She felt it as I slowly pressed my dick against the tight rosebud of her ass. She tried to struggle, but you held her face down in your pussy, not letting her tongue and mouth stop. Her struggles quickly stopped once I was in and sliding down the tight tunnel.

As much as I wanted to just pound away into her, I took my time, easing into her. Soon she began to moan as she grew accustomed to the new sensations ripping through her. Then I began to pound, slamming into her as forcefully as before. An orgasm ripped through her, tearing a scream from her throat that would leave her hoarse for days.

With a grin, I pulled out and slammed back into her tight, wet pussy. I continued my forceful, fast pounding into her until yet another orgasm hit. This time, her orgasm caused you to cum as well. I pulled out, intending to shoot my load all over her back. But you rushed forward, pulling her with you. You guided my cock into her mouth, allowing her suck it clean for a moment before you then sucked me into yours. With a shout, I came, shooting my load down your throat. You swallowed all but the last spurt, holding that in your mouth to share with her in a heated kiss.

We all stood and quickly got dressed. The poor girl was shaken, but obviously satisfied in a way she had never before experienced. We both leaned in and each kissed her in turn. Then, without so much as glancing back at the befuddled woman, we left, my arm around your waist and your head on my shoulder. Despite not having bought you anything as I had intended, this day was ending with both of us smiling and satisfied. For the moment...