I imagined that after she'd have seen me dressed up, I would fall to aneven lower rank in her eyes. Maybe she'd be angry she wasn't the one tocatch me... or the one to make me dress like that. Maybe she'd be angry atme for allowing the last vestiges of my masculinity slip away. Either way,I feared she'd start treating me like dirt again.After a while I stopped crying and got off my mother's lap. She wiped theblack tear marks from my face and helped me repaint my eyelashes withmascara."What's for. So listen to me. First of all, I accept everything you said about Mary accepting me. I was frightened all the way to Heathrow." But it was you who spotted me being antsy and were so supportive." Maybe, but that was possibly because I wanted to comfort my man. I also wanted him to reassure me and you did because you still called me your princess." That little?" Yes because you put so much love into the words."I could not do anything but kiss her gently on the lips."Since then, Mary and I have. Over the coming weeks, whenever his wife was away, they spent many, manyhours together. Even though he was drawn to her, it was not sexual. Theybecame two girlfriends enjoying each others company. It was the best timein his life.He found his friends often cancelled plans, and normally he would havechased them up. But now it simply freed more time up to see Liz. Helooked forward to their time together so much he found himself not evenmaking plans with his male friends anymore, and then not even. As she pulls it over her head her T-shirt rides up showing her flat belly and a brief flash of her white bra. Her breasts may be on the small side ‘B’ I think, but very perky just like I like them. Her T-shirt damp from sweat clings nicely to her body. I admire it for a while, smiling. I start to pull my fleece over my head. It also sticks to the sweaty T-shirt but gets all tangled up. That’s when the little vixen attacks. With my head and arms still stuck in the fleece, she starts tickling my.