” She smiled.“Thank you,” I managed, and back-stepped to the door. “You’re- you’re beautiful.”“I know,” she said without arrogance. ...��And I like to show it.” Her eyes narrowed as I reached for the doorknob. “I’m staying another few days,” she said. “Maybe we will get another chance to share our little experience?”I nodded, afraid to speak as I peered out the door, seeing the hallway clear, and dashed to the bathroom. I turned on the shower but didn’t get in. Naked, I stood in front of the sink,. What did the well dressed master wear, anyway? If I had managed to get fifteen damn minutes to myself this afternoon, I'm sure I would have found some sort of website. Jeans? Too informal. Sweats? Too high school. A tux? I actually owned a tux. No, too James Bond. She'd probably just start laughing. She was probably down there laughing anyway, come to think about it. I mean, this was a successful business woman down there. After her divorce, Mrs. Stone had started her own interior decorating. More

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