He isOriginally from Hamburg, and if anyone can charm their way into aGirls knickers it is a scouser!It was a few weeks ago and I thought I would call...in on Michael toSee how he was doing and see if he needed anything from the shop.When I knocked at his home he called me in without getting up, so ILet myself in as usual and wandered through to his living room. HeWas sat watching an old episode of Charlie’s Angels.“Hi Michael, how are you today,” I asked.“Hi doll, I’m pretty good.” He always. Then he left it against me and I felt the heat of his body. I didn’t move away. His talk became a little bit halting and I knew our touching was exciting him. Still, I didn’t move away; just let him continue the contact. His hand found my knee. I smiled at him and pushed it away, gently, patting his hand.He shook his head with an embarrassed nod, and I patted his hand again with a smile.He tried again. I left his hand there for a little while and then looked at him with a gentle smile and shook. They looked kissable!“What the hell put that thought in my head, kissing a girl — woman actually — and one I don’t even know. Plus the simple fact I was straight and married.” I thought as everything else seemed to crash in on me. She stuck out her hand, which was as imposing as the rest of her.“Nice to meet you, I’m Chic. I know, funny name, but it’s an old nickname and I prefer it to the one I was given at birth.”We shook hands and she practically pulled me inside. I put down what I was. "What could I say but, "Yeah, great! I'm looking forward to meeting them too."A friend? That didn't sound promising. But I heard her call out my name!All day long, I was wondering how she could just pretend that nothing had happened between us the night before. Finally, I decided that if she could be so cool with it, I could too. If my intuition was right, it was something I shouldn't bring up in casual conversation, a shared experience that just didn't need to be mentioned. I'd just let it.