” She stopped, and slowly licked her rich, red lips, “You understand.” I did, and my crotch was catching up fast.“Why me?” She laughed, “P...re chance, Mr. Tarakan. I chose seven P.D.’s from the phone book. You happened to be the fuckable one.” “But why P.I.’s?” She returned with a tumbler of whiskey and ice and sat on the end of the bed, slowly crossing her legs with a long, drawn-out rustle of nylon. I was stiffening quickly.“My dear, ex-husband, bless his cotton socks, was very rich, but. Finally, we donned our dresses.I have already described mine. It was a beautiful silk, laced and brocaded, cut sufficiently low in the front to begin to show the valley of my bosom, and much lower in the back. Siobhan’s dress, also made by Mrs. Foraker so that we did not clash, was designed so that Siobhan did not outshine me on this glorious day. This was her idea, not mine, for I had never felt the least twinge of jealousy towards my friend and only wished her the very best of fortune. She. More

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