Bobbie was small. I figured her for four foot eight, and maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. We had talked a few times, but no more than anyone else. ... found her attractive, but aside from some indirect flirting, had not really felt any chemistry. She had mentioned she was in a committed relationship, and the scuttlebutt around the office was that the guy was loaded. She had mentioned that she lived in the top floor of a very expensive condo development, so I guessed it was true, but I never. The place was typical for her weekend nights and the perfect hunting ground for her next piece of ass. That night she was seeking out a man, someone that could reach that particular itch she then felt inside. She scanned the crowd looking for the right target. The girl had been playing this game for a long time, and finding the right person without making herself seem too easy was something she had become adept at doing. Her eyes caught a promising candidate and she began winding through the. I knew I had to dosomething to reverse that, but what? And then it hit me. If Mike wouldno longer be my Ken doll and let me dress him in Barbie's clothes, then Icould dress him in my mind by recalling the times he did become my Kendoll. I could even reinforce the memories by writing about them, addingmy thoughts about the events at the time, sort of a memoir, if you will. And so it came to pass that I took up pen and paper, recording adifferent dress up session when ever the urge to play. Attempting to ignore my son and Devi kissing and touching, I grabbed a blanket and covered everyone's laps. Then I kissed Bess and slid my hand between her thighs. Her hands undid my trousers and extracted my penis. We kept talking to hide our goings on."Like I said, Benjamin," said Bess. "We love your poem. I want to use it at my wedding." Really," chirped Benjamin, excited in so many ways."Honestly," said Bess."When did you start writing poetry?" I asked."Since..." Devi's head disappeared.