He could make the ladies laugh, an important trait in the arsenal of a Don Giovanni, a Don Juan. He was well muscled and had been a promising baseball...player like a fellow Italian whom he had idolized. Joe DiMaggio was a man, one to be admired. He not only was a great athlete, but had been husband to one of the great sex symbols of his time, the ill-fated Marilyn Monroe. His body was lean, flat bellied. His arms and legs were long and slender, as were his hands and feet. His mother said he had. Her golden blonde tresses were spread out on the couch pillow behind her like a halo. Her dark lashes lay gently against her the golden skin of her cheeks, and her lush full lips were slightly parted. He stared at her, and as if he were in a trance he leaned over and brushed his lips softly over hers. At that point he was kneeling on the floor next to the couch. He raised his head slightly from her face. Her eyelids started to flutter, and then open drowsily. Her eyes opened wider. Her blue. More

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