Shaking his head Lucian tried to get rid of the avalanche of images thememory caused - the sneering faces, the crude remarks, the spittledripping from...his face, the hits and bruises.Most of all: the utter solitude.He shook his head and concentrated on the memory of the silver shoe, orone almost like it as he sat admiring it on the soft white rug in hismother's room - boudoir she called it. He was surrounded by half of herwardrobe: shining satins, softly knit jerseys, slippery nylons. " My reply indicated I wanted to end theconversation.Danielle did not let up. "Is that all? I mean, why have me keep it on?"I began slowly. "Well, there is more than just how nice you look. I liketo feel the fabric against my skin." Really!" Her eyes lit up, and she turned towards me, propping her head upon her arm. "You do?!?"I became defensive. "Well, it's not like I wanna wear it or something. Ijust like how it feels." Just clothes? Or underwear too?" I think women's underwear is pretty. More

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