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I opened the door for her and grinned, wearing my new frames. Unsmiling, she entered sluggishly and plopped her purse onto the dining table.I stood behind her, waiting, my new frames sitting squarely on my face in broad daylight. "Whaddya think?" I asked the back of her bobbed head.She turned around and looked directly into my eyes, and leaned close to me, and then put her hands on my shoulder and, gazing intently at my mouth, pushed me backward against the wall and pressed full length against me. She held my face in her hands. "What do I think of what?" she asked distractedly, her lips coming closer to mine, her eyelids lowered sensuously."The frames," I said.Ignoring the frames, she raised one hand and gently touched my lips. She murmured throatily, softly, "Outstanding." You didn't look," I said."Yes I did, they're lovely. Steven, I hate the New York City education establishment. I hate the politics, the shortsightedness. But I love your mouth. I've been thinking about your mouth. By the time jet lag hits I'm a sack of stones hitting the bed and then I'm flying off again. I was in the south for a business meeting that was supposed to take place the following Monday, but I came down early to enjoy the beach and maybe meet up with some college friends who had moved down here. It was a bloody hot Saturday afternoon, and the pools were crowded and there was no room to even wade in, so I didn't dare go out and try to enjoy myself yet. Not yet, at least. Around two that morning I went downstairs finally, ready to relax and enjoy myself a bit, do some laps around the pool and rub the stiffness of the flight away, and to my great relief, nobody was there. It was empty, and the chamber of the pool deck echoed with my footsteps. I slipped my flip flops off and put my towel down on a pool chair, eyeing the pool water hungrily as I started towards it. Thankfully there was a deep end and I dived smoothly in, feeling the icy water run over me as I started my journey to the.
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"Why don't you try it on?" I said. "To be safe." I think it'll fit but okay," said Allen. I pushed the buggy to the mens fitting room with Allen close beside me.A man about Allen's age stood behind the fitting room counter. "How many items do you have?" said the man."One," said Allen holding the dress up so the man could inspect it."Is this some kind of joke?" asked the man."Is it illegal to try on a dress?" said Allen. Allen's chest popped out. I prayed the clerk would shut his mouth before Allen shut it for him."No, I suppose it isn't," said the man and he led Allen to an empty fitting room then busied himself at the counter.A few minutes later, Allen stuck his head out of the room."Ready?" he said."Let's see!" I said. By now I was getting excited!"Tada!" shouted Allen as he threw the door open and stepped out from behind it. The man at the counter glanced up from his work just as Allen twirled around in his dress. "I... beg your pardon," stammered the man, no doubt intimidated by.

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