" No...I mean on a boy-girl date, Jan. Not a girl-girl date. I want more thana platonic friendship." Hey, Edie...this isn't just a platonic friendship... Don't forget, I knowwhat's under that dress," she added winking and squeezing my hand. "It canstill be a boy-girl date...but I'll be the boy! I hate to wear dresses." Uh...I don't know...maybe. Let's get started with my lessons." Talk aboutconfusion!!!She began a crash course in training me to sit, walk, and stand like a ladywhile wearing a. She was just beautiful and I just had to try my luck with her.She gave me a hard time at first but after a little coaxing and a lot of flowers she finally decided to go out with me. She was bright and very articulate and she was a joy to talk to. They were few things that we could not discuss without her being well informed about them except for sports and my bedroom décor. The latter she took quite a while to get to know and it was only after I proposed marriage to her about six months after. That’s when I realized that I was not dressed properly. It had been my intention to change into my suit before entering the service, but circumstances being what they were, I was still wearing the short pants, a short-sleeved shirt with the tail hanging outside of my pants, and sneakers. Anxious to join the mourners, I got out of my truck, and sauntered up the hill. As I climbed the hill, I noticed there was a breeze that was ruffling the fringe on the canopy. In the distance, the sea was. He still held me, hands gently cupped to my ass. And then he let me go.My lips parted and trembled. I felt suddenly very heavy down in the seat of my short shorts where the seat of my bottoms was plastered onto my pussy. My body and mind reeled together, a hot vortex in which shame was still a major ingredient but not the biggest one. I think my eyes started to sparkle. I looked about me for the first time that morning, in what was recognizably the light of a new day, and for the first time.