We talk a whole lot more, and drink more bubbly, and at my request, she starts calling me 'Liz", and my body becomes pretty irrelevent....we're just two chicks talking girl-talk.
Elly went to work for Hubert four years ago, fresh out of college with a BS in Finance, started as his private secretary. As he became less functional amd disinterested in the business, she assumed increasing responsibility. He needed some sort of a relationship, and she'd hold his hand, then hug him, and finally sex became the ultimate. She was a body-builder in college already, won Miss Fitness of California five years ago, and still maintains a heavy excercise schedule. As we talk,we finish one, and then a second bottle of Champagne, and both are felling pretty good. Yet, I am constantly aware of the handicap of this old, fat body. I can't move easily, often need her help, barely can walk, and certainly not initiate sex, as much as I want to. I have to ask her, "Elly, how in God's name can you screw with this ugly, fat body, which is me now?" "Liz, my love, between self-stimulation and imagination you can do anything. And don't forget, you are a man and once we start, it's really pretty good." "Now that you know I'm a young female in my head, does that make a difference? I mean, will you still have sex with me?" "Hell, yes, Liz. Makes it even more exciting." "Like now?" "God yes, come to bed, my Loverboy Liz."
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Tue Jul 13 14:41:08 1999
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