”“Really,” I responded, smiling. “And what do you want?” I asked, putting my empty mug down.“You know what I want,” she answered, leanin... closer to me. I leaned forward too so that our faces were closer. Our eyes were locked on each other and I could feel my cock getting harder in my jeans. There was a heavy silence.“And what is it that you want?” I asked, teasing her, our eyes looking hungrily into each other’s eyes.“What we both want,” she said in a low voice, almost a whisper, moving her. “I do think jazz is what sounds best on a Hammond B-3.”The pastor kept an eye on his watch. He stepped out of his office and disappeared behind a curtain. Thelma improvised a coda to her jazz number and began playing the processional -- Handel’s Water Music.Ang stepped through the curtain and then Jason. The pastor stood behind his altar and Jason joined Ang standing before it. Jason scanned the congregation. To his left he saw Oscar, Daymon and Phyllis sitting in the first row. Phyllis held. I couldn't recognize their faces with the colors on. I said 'hello' to the organizers and dropped in a dish, that I had bought earlier from the restaurant, in the tent. I got a beer and went to watch the dance, standing beside the men. Most were passing lewd comments about the women and the women were flaunting in front of the men. But I knew not to make any such comments, as most were married and friends with each other. I kept my distance. Some of the wives started pulling their husbands into. He was joking, but it would be great to pull his best friend and occasional tormentor's chains now that the big man was a little woman!The Captain turned his aristocratic, feminine face towards Gilligan. He flushed deeply at even the concept of sleeping in the same room with the husband of the body he was trapped in, even if that body now belonged to his little buddy. "In your dreams, Gilligan!" he almost screamed.He struggled, and finally freed his now weak feminine arm from Gilligan's grasp..