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We window shopped and talked about what we saw until we got to one of the trendy shoe stores. I decided to sit while she looked at shoes. A young man walked up to me and asked if he could help, I told him to get whatever the little blond girl wanted and his face lit up.. Gwen stopped at the wall display of shoes, directly in front of me, and decided to look at a pair on th bottom row. rather than bend her knees in a lady-like fashion, she bent straight at the him to pick up some kind of a black boot with straps and buckles and a price tag to match. But that was not what got my attention at first. Her skirt was short. very veryvery short. when she bent over at the waist with her legs straight, the skirt pulled half way up her ass, and it became immeciately obvious that she was not wearing anything under it. She looked back at me from between her legs and grinned her nasty little grin. Thank God there was some kind of a display on either side of her, because she picked up the boot. I got into the bathroom and emerged an hour later, having pampered myself with bath oils and shampoo and a warm long bath.Mom was in the kitchen cooking up something that was smelling divine. She served hot breakfast and I was terribly hungry so I ate a lot. Lots of Poha, upma, two bananas and an apple and then rich black coffee with milk. It was almost lunch time and therefore it was almost lunch.Mom also had a heavy breakfast with me. But she also had made arrangements for lunch. While I was bathing, she had gone to the corner butcher shop and got a fresh chicken slaughtered for lunch. It was now marinating and mom planned to make good roasted chicken with rice and curry for lunch.I got up after breakfast and bent down to kiss her but she said. “Only a kiss OK? I will make lunch now, take some more rest if you want and then have lunch. Your favourite chicken. A fat one, and a very lively and young thing it was. Got it specially cut up for you. Don’t waste it.”she said.I obediently.
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I wondered if you might have some milk”. His gazed returned to the two bulges in my shirt. “Of course,” I replied. Adding, without thinking, “Why don’t you come in?” As I spoke, I wanted the earth to open up. Here I was, sporting male attire but with bumps where they ought not to be, and I had just invited this new neighbour into my home. “Thanks,” he said, responding rather too quickly for my liking. “I’m William – but call be ‘Bill’”. “Bill,” I responded. “My name’s Paul.” He looked even more attentively at my bulges, and calmly asked, “Paul, eh? But what do I call you?” My face felt as though it was sunburned – but I don’t think that was the focus of his attention. “Sorry,” he said. “If I can have a little milk, perhaps I can call back later - when you’re more prepared for visitors.” “Yes,” I said, getting some milk from the fridge and handing it to him, “that would be nice.” What was I saying? What was he thinking? “Thank you.” he said, with a wry grin on his face. “Well, Paul,.

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