“Are you my dresser now?” “At your service, Miss. What can I do for you?” “There are dozens of hooks on the back of this. I can hardly reach...any of them.” The white silk of this dress clung more closely to Lucy's contours. In fact she worried that it was rather snug. Brian asked Lucy to stand in front of the chaise while he sat on it to reach the lower hooks. Brian relished the sight of Lucy's pert behind encased in the snug silk. He rested his wrists on the appealing curve as he fastened the. The one large room was papered floor to ceiling with rock posters from the sixties; David had lived in San Francisco then and was, as he told it somewhat sketchily, somehow loosely connected with the defunct Avalon ballroom. Lucy, in her more cognizant moments, guessed that he was perhaps a ticket-taker, but she never ventured to question him further. David was not the kind of person one ever got to know extremely well; she supposed she knew him as well as anyone, and still there were a lot of. More

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