“Mmm, thanks, Sam,” I told the bartender. Then I put the glass to my lips and drank the brew straight down.I looked over at my admirer. 60ish, sli..., tall, handsome face. “Say, you’re cute,” I remarked. “ I really like older men you know.” Then I put my hand on his thigh and rubbed it a bit.“Do you like to play pool,” I asked him.“I love pool. There’s a free table. Shall we play?”“Yes, lets,” I responded, and stood up. I was unsteady on my feet, so my admirer put his arm around my waist and. The thing we’ve talked about on the phone. I feel my breath getting shallow as he puts his hand on my face, leaning toward me. I feel it. I feel his lips touching mine so little that it may not look like a kiss at all, but I feel his bottom lip follow the path of mine. He’s trying to make me work for it. He’s trying to make me crave it. He’s biting, tasting, nibbling on my lips. This is it right here. The time when whispers are allowed. The cliché spine tingling you feel when you haven’t had. I knew she was feeling embarrassed by what happened. I really shouldn't have stared, but in the moment I couldn’t look away. I kept trying to think of a way to talk to her about it, but it seemed like bringing it up would make things worse. One night though, my problem solved itself when she came to my room. It was late and I was at my desk. She was wearing shorts this time, much to my disappointment. She asked if I remembered that time in the kitchen. I told her I did. She started to. "Yes," answered Sara. "These clothes are new," she gestured at theclothes on the table, "we haven't tried it yet, but we think that if youtouch the medallion to new clothes, that haven't been worn, you'll changeinto a version of yourself who fits the clothes. Though these clothes arenew, they may have been tried on by someone. In that case, you wouldtransform into whoever last tried on the clothes."Christie stepped to the table and examined the clothes. There werevarious swim suits, men's,.