Nothing very passionate going on there, it seemed.Angie was a long, skinny redhead who looked more like a skeleton every year, shoulder-blades poking ...ut, no bosom whatever, and a seriously unattractive skull-face. But after half a lifetime of my own bloated beached-whale of a wife, Angie had curiously become a bit of a secret fantasy for me. Just something different, I suppose. The image of that neat little rear-end, the slim ankles, and the smooth velvety voice, not like Lola's corncrake. I still loved them. Now I felt and looked more like a womanthan ever before.When I got home Cheryl brought over a casserole she had baked. She wantedto see my new boobs and I was more than willing to show off. It took almosta month for my face to return to normal. I loved to look at myself in themirror. I wasn't a raving beauty but I was pretty.I changed my wardrobe some. I could now wear tank tops without a bra. Iloved to show some cleavage and my nipples stood out through the thincloth. I. More

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