It is her movements that I try to copy as I continue to twist and turn on the floor of their living room.I drop to my knees. I sit facing the big fire...lace, my back to the old man in the wheelchair and his wife, and slowly I start to peel off my t-shirt. I know a t-shirt isn't all that elegant, I would actually rather wear a blouse or something even more sexy, like a corset, but they like the t-shirt. It is a reminder of the generation gap between us and she says it's elegant in all its. I continually crossed and uncrossed my legs as I considered how I could find an opportunity for him to take a peek between my legs. Fate stepped in, he dropped his pen. He leaned over in his chair to grab the pen, and I spread my legs, wide. The table thumped. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Yes.. umm yes, hit my head” he fumbled. That answered my question as to whether or not he saw my quiet invitation. I held my breath as he sat back in his chair. Was he going to do anything? Had I misread. More

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