..trying to bloom. The eroticism of thestory has me breathing in shallow breaths.Well, let's see....we were in the bedroom and Betty....since I do her...hair now Ithink it is okay to call her Betty....I definitely prefer it....let's see...yesBetty was telling me to kiss her son, Jean right there in front of her. Ihad a few gay sexual experiences under my belt, but never with a girl or aboy who looked like a girl...and he did....believe Robin, he did look like agirl."So did you kiss him or what?". His hands slowly caressing my stomach, across my navel. His fingers finding the crevices under my chest, my hand wanted to move his across my mound. My areolas engorged while his tongue moved across my neck and collarbone. I moaned and ached to be explored. This was torture, I wanted to feel like a woman again. I couldn’t contain myself, slowly pushing a finger inside me. I wanted to taste him, I wanted him to take me in ways that would satisfy his lust as much as I craved it. I wanted him. I mean, it's just us. We could haveworn jeans and gone for pizza. Yet instead here we are, done upjust gorgeous and seated in the finest French restaurant in town." I enjoy dressing up now and then. Tracy tells me you do too nowthat you're well into it. She says your closet is like a grandboutique." I suppose. It's wonderful how women need so many differentoutfits, how they -- WE, Tracy wants me to say 'we women' -- we'reexpected to dress according to occasion and mood and style andseason.. You all depend on me as much as I depend on you. Some days it's worse than others, but I feel inadequate." Well, not to make light of it, but what I feel between my legs seems more than adequate." We both hmpfed a little laugh. "But that's the thing, Brian. We have all been unfair to you. It was silly that when George started calling you Patrón, we all adopted the term and it seemed so natural. But we didn't mean it to be a burden to you. We look to you for love and leadership. We don't look to.