Mr. Foster had come to their meeting prepared.The previous night, Michael and Brandi had (with great effort) redressed their drunken friend and taken her home. To their relief, after throwing up on the walk back home, Lily had finally stopped aggressively hitting on the two of them ... though once her crude pickup attempts had stopped, they’d been forced to fill the gap with awkward conversations.Brandi was burning up with questions about Michael’s sex life and what she meant to him, but she avoided letting any of her errant thoughts loose, instead conversing about safer subjects.“So, uh, how do you think the football team is going to go this year?”“Oh yeah, great. Great, for sure.”“Yeah?”“Yeah. Yeah, great.”“Great.”“Great.”There was a long pause.“ ... yeah.”Once they’d dropped Lily off, Michael offered to walk Brandi home, but she declined. A part of her was still hurt, still angry, but more than anything - she didn’t trust herself around Michael. When they were alone, they’d more. I applied very light mascara and eyeliner, alittle pink eye shadow and some light coral lipstick. Even these basiccosmetics totally changed his appearance and he seemed totally fascinatedby the new, feminine face when I showed him the results in the mirror.By now, the atmosphere in the room had become less light-hearted and wascharged with a frisson of arousal between us. Leaning in, I kissed himlonger and harder this time, relishing the feel of his soft, glossy lips.I told him we could stop any time he wanted but he simply shook his headsilently, consenting to me going further. I removed his dressing gown andcaressed his body through the thin satin of his nightdress, teasing andgently pinching his nipples until his breath was coming in short, urgentpants.Laying him back on the sofa, my hand moved to the front of his panties,cupping and caressing his cock. He wasn't very large, perhaps threeinches long and quite thin, certainly no symbol of masculine virilitybetween his legs. .
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