“Shamalee. I can’t wear this. Everybody will see my bra and panty lines.”“No they won’t, look at the bodice, you don’t need a bra.”“Wh...t about panties?”“No panties needed. It will really make you feel daring. I have a pair of self-supporting nylons for you to match the dress. Your black high heels will go with it.”I felt a tingle go up my spine. I had to admit the dress was plain but striking. It would knock Don Parsons off of his feet. Later that night I enjoyed Shamalee again. We fell asleep. I stared at her, amazed. For once, I didn’t know what to say. Milena smiled and gently touched my hand. Our faces were suddenly inches from each other, and she asked me if I was alright. I looked at her hand, entwined with mine, and smiled. Then I kissed her. Yup, I kissed her. The frustrating, arrogant, gets-on-my-last-nerve chick who was my son’s mother, she who once took my breath away. I kissed her. Just pressed my lips against hers. I don’t think I’ve ever kissed her before. During our one. More

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