This story is about a young man, Richie, happily married and in lovewith his wife, Linda. She was a very rich young lady, an heiress ofsorts, having b...en left a fortune when her parents had died in an aircrash. Now Richie had a foolish secret habit that he has had since hewas a child; he liked to dress up in women's clothes, particularlyunderwear, from time to time. He wasn't gay or that way inclined at all,he just got a buzz from dressing up and playing with himself. (I'm sureyou all. "I took another sip (read:gulp) of my beer. "Justin, you're not getting what she's saying. She wants us to run a train on her, and right now you're the only thing she's waiting on." FUCK!" Justin yelled,"Hell yea, I'm in."We finished our drinks without saying much more. At this point in my life, I was pretty cynical and brooding. When I was drinking, I wasn't much of a talker. I can imagine Justin was quiet because he had just been hit with a proposition that he might have been rethinking. D. "Bye! Take good care of my flower," she called after him. Zane spent several hours in the library that night, but had a hardtime finding focus on any of the novels he tried to read. Thesensation of the dandelion behind his ear kept reminding him of hisexperience that afternoon, and Zane found himself thinking that he hadenjoyed playing that innocent game of jacks with a child more than hewas enjoying the thick books he was now poring over. Finally, givingup on Tolstoy and Goethe for the. Mind you, sitting in little more than a loincloth does give idle hands a natural place to rest. And the sweat glistening on the tan shoulders of the weed man across the road certainly was inspiring some idleness. The change in pitch emanating from the trimmer dragged me back from some pleasant daydreaming. As I opened my eyes, I realized 2 things simultaneously: 1, the moisture between my legs was not entirely perspiration, and 2, the attentive public servant across the street had taken in an.