My dad, Harry, and my mom, Margret, grew up in New York City and met when they were both attending Harvard University. They got married moved to Alban..., then had me. I have always had what I wanted, every wish was their command, and it still is. They love me, yes, but they are so wrapped up in their work they never spend anytime with me. And that is what I crave is physical, as well as, emotional attention. The only problem with that is I am not allowed any friends, or boyfriends for that. Ifelt as if I had wings as the dress, with its layers upon layers offrilly lining, floated down and embraced me. "Was it the dress or Ifloating?" I wondered. I dipped and rose to feel the rise and fall ofthe skirt's petticoats. I was mesmerized.My hands went down to feel the top of the precious fluff. The petticoatscaused the skirt to rest almost perpendicular to my waist. My feelingstook over the moment. I could not resist reaching down and feeling thefull skirt, picking it up and letting it. I had never known what he had thought of me before. Well, I needed to pack up and go home before the television helicopter came out here looking for interviews. I followed the sheriff’s patrol jeep to the gate. I was about a quarter mile behind him when I heard his siren go off and he lit out for the northern road. I watched a whole bunch of news people follow him. Damn, they had been waiting to interview whomever was up here. I owed the Sheriff big time. I locked the gates up and headed home.. ‘I don’t want my bosom setting you off prematurely. I’m told I’m a bit… special.’ ‘It’ll be fine, I’m sure,’ gulped Grant unconvincingly. ‘Strip down to your bra for now.’ ‘That’s the thing,’ grimaced Emma. ‘I’m not wearing one. This is how pert and sexy my boobs are braless.’ She gave her shoulders a brief shimmy and let her bosom sway freely in its idiosyncratic, gravity-shunning way before Grant’s palpably astonished eyes. ‘Oh,’ said Grant. ‘I see.’ ‘Yes, now you see,’ said Emma. ‘Now, shall.