On reaching the refuge and security of his flat David dropped his selfrevealing purchases and paced his living room in turmoil. What had justhappened... Why had he put himself in that position to be humiliated as hehad? Why had he even bothered going after two more skirts when'Michelle' already had dozens?Chapter Six - Inside Michelle's Wardrobe.It was true. From one end of neatly hung skirts in that section ofMichelle's wardrobe to the other was displayed what, over time hadbecome a collection. I just want to be your equal, not your boss.Michael: Well maybe I don't want to be your equal. If we get equality in the world, it will only be because you forced me into it.Amy: Look at your name? Michael Adamson Chauvin III. Do you want your progeny to trace their ancestry back to your great-grandfather? Shorten your middle name down to Adam—it means 'first man'.Michael: Well, until I decide to change it, just keep calling me Michael.Amy: If that's what you want. (She feeds herself one. I was concentrating on getting everything right. I had a bit of smooth vanilla yoghurt and few strawberries and blueberries. I had freshly squeezed orange juice; boy did I go through a learning curve as a male novice in the kitchen with the juicer. But man it looked good. This brekkie was a labour of love. The coffee was fine, well self interest was operating with that machine every morning. I knew I was basically out of my depth trying to poach an egg, grill a sausage and cook two pieces of. When she was smaller, I used to call her my fairy princess, she was so light on her feet — now, as Lucy approached her fifteenth birthday, the fairy princess had been replaced by a lush, nubile nymph. Her long dark hair was worn up in a simple ponytail. Her body, covered by the short pleated skirt and white blouse that served as a school uniform, was a thing of ripe curves and firm, budding flesh. Her best features, without a doubt, were her breasts, as large as her mother's but even more pert.