I slid into my wife's most girly flip-flops, the yellow ones with pink flower design."If my feet can't cover all flowers, someone might notice," I thought.The magenta blouse was too much. I slowly pulled off the confining top, inch by inch, the whole time thinking, "If I had this on when my wife came home there is no way I could get if off in time before she saw me in it."The thought made the crotch of my jeans tighter in seconds. I found a white blouse with baby blue stripes that looked almost like a shirt I have, except that the collar and features on it were more delicate, and it buttoned the girly way, backwards. Again, androgynous, yet pretty. The blouse wasn't as long as a guy's shirt, and the sides of the blouse came up too high for a guy's shirt. It had small breast pockets that emphasized my own budding breasts. If someone studied the blouse, they'd wonder why I was wearing it. Looking in the mirror, I could see through the blouse only enough that my torso was silhouetted by. How do you open it?”“If I knew that, I would know what was in it.”She nodded and put it back. Then she tugged at the sleeve of Dad’s jacket. “It looks good on you.”I nodded. “Thank you.”Then she stepped close enough to rub her amazing boobs against me. “Didn’t you say you would answer my questions in here?”I glanced past her at the closed door leading to the house. “I could either answer them verbally, or show you want you want to know.”“You mean share more memories?”I nodded. “I’ve asked tons of questions and gotten lots of answers. I can share selections, like a commercial for a movie.”“Commercials only lead to more questions.”I nodded. “And you may never get all the answers you want. I have questions no one’s been able to answer to my satisfaction.”“How about we start with something simple and go from there?”I shrugged. “It’s a matter of timing. Mom’s making lunch. You can ask until she comes back. After that you may have to settle for the memories.”She nodded. “You said you’re a.
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