Clumsily, I did my best to remove the delicate garment from her bare arms and folded it carefully over my arm.She was wearing a rather severe, tight, ...leeveless, tailored black dress in what I took to be silk taffeta. Her nylons were barely black and (I have a 'nose’ for these things!) a pair of red-soled, black patent-leather Louboutin shoes with four-inch heels. Her ensemble was completed with elbow-length butter-soft black leather gloves, a pearl necklace with a matching pearl bracelet, worn. “Mark, I only met him once and we only talked for a few minutes.” Well, unless you counted the later conversation where he talked me out of my clothes. I couldn’t make myself feel guilty and it was a secret that was going with me to my grave. I’d even dreamed about him a few times, vauge erotic images that seemed to flow without rhyme or reason. I invariably woke up to wet panties.“I don’t care. Stay away. I don’t like his vibe.”“His vibe? The man is half a football field away and you can feel. More

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