Aroused, exhilarated, I wandered naked along the rows of brassieres and corsets and garter-belts and bustiers and luscious, gleaming panties, my head ...pinning like a vortex. I was drowning in a whirlpool of shame, bliss, and guilt.And longing. Longing; vast and endless.Reaching the end of that tunnel of forbidden pleasures, I arrived at the Alcove. The Alcove was my Mother's private dressing room, a little salon housing mum's favourite pieces. Over the space of maybe a hundred visits, it had. And Art banned them for a month.Bigots ... hate ‘em. I guess that makes me a bigot. They have a right ... I suppose I do too.Roy was up early Friday, made coffee and headed for Three Forks. I suppose he was going to the digs.Angie cracked an eye. “Heck. He’s gone. Not that I wanted to go too. That’s meticulous work ... and it IS work.”“What went on while I was enjoying myself?”Angie explains“Davis opened a new area. Nobody was finding anything, so he told Roy to go find an artifact.”“Did he?”. Thereafter I used to call her regularly and check her status. When she finally delivered and came back to her house I went to her house to see the kid. She started chatting with me and suddenly the kid started crying, she just lifted him and started breast feeding him in front of me. I was taken aback seeing her breasts and the milk drops falling from her nipples.While feeding her son she kept chatting with me and found that I was looking at her breasts. She asked me if I am seeing someone’s. “You’re coming to stay with me for a while.” She stepped past Olivia into the front room. She looked Olivia up and down, admiring the former saleslady’s slender figure in her nightgown. Something sparkled on Olivia’s left hand. “That’s new, isn’t it?” Linda pointed to the shiny, diamond ring.“My boyfriend ... um ... my fiancé proposed to me last night.” Olivia’s pale cheeks reddened. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Riles, but I said yes.”“No need to be sorry, Olivia.” Linda put her hands on Olivia’s.