‘My name is Rosie,’ she replied, holding out her hand. He took it and brought it slowly up to his lips. Both his hand and his lips seemed unusuall... cool to her touch. A tiny little shiver went through Rosie as his mouth brushed the back of her hand. This was somehow both old-fashioned and out of place, yet it seemed rather fitting and second nature to him. Rosie smiled and turned back to her drink. She was shy as a rule and spent most of her nights at home with her cat. Normally she would never. Which was fine, because while he was out his wardrobe was all mine! I used to try on his t shirts, his shirts, his suits... I used to pose in the mirror and sometimes lay on the bed touching myself and just enjoying the closeness of his scent wrapped all around me. But one day he went to put on a top and he told me it smelled of me - and it was summer, so it smelled of sweat, too. He told me not to wear his clothes.Did I listen?Of course not.I simply learned to be devious - I had a shower then. More

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