We both took long drags of our cigarettes and glanced at each other. "Do you have a name when you are dressed?" inquired Lauren. I said, "Brittany is ...y name". "That's a very sexy name, Brittany you fucking whore". I was shocked by what she had just said. She poured herself a glass of wine and lit up another cigarette. "Well, Brittany I always wanted to have a sister." She moved over closer to me and touched my tits. She commented on how perfect my tits were. I thanked her. Lauren told me to. ..I still don't know how I feel," she said, "and I may notever forgive you for it, but...maybe you should dress for me, atleast this once. No matter what happens, at least that fantasywill come true, even if it makes me puke, or want a divorce - Ijust don't know. I'm going to make myself a drink I think I'llneed it - while you get...changed."I knew that our relationship was on the rocks, and might well beover, but the thought of dressing for her, even once, was adefinite turn-on. I tried to. More

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