He managed to say yes."You like my panties?" I asked him again.He said yes - in the same, low tone."My cotton panties?" I said, stressing the word "pa...ties."He nodded ... barely."My pink cotton panties?" I emphasized each word, still moving my hips for him.Another nod. His hand was still rubbing. I undid my pants all the way, and lowered them a bit, down low, over my hips. I stepped closer to him."You can take it out," I said in a low voice.His expression barely changed, but I thought I could. They'd probably be flying into Baltimore that evening, ahead of Friday night's game.I called the land line number anyway, and got a recorded message. I tried the cell phone and it was shut down. Maybe he was in the air already.According to ESPN's scoreboard web page, the game in Cleveland had ended much earlier.All I could do was call him Thursday night, after he'd had a reasonable shot at getting here -- if in fact the Sox were flying in that night.I called Lester's cell number at 8:45 p.m.. More

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