Learning Curve

by Melody Sims

Part 1

 

"I really appreciate you being here for this, baby." I said as I opened the car door for my wife.

"It was important to you, therefore it was important to me. This has been a big influence in your life, now this chapter has closed and it's time for you and me to start the next one." I have spent the last 20 years wearing the uniform of a soldier and living that lifestyle. I met my wife (second attempt) seven years ago, and she has had to accept the fact that the military and I were a package deal. Over the past five years, I have been deployed for a year, missed numerous holidays, birthdays and anniversaries, which had strained our relationship and took away time that we can never get back.

I steered the car out of the Armory parking lot for the last time. It was a good ride, but I was ready for a change of pace and some real quality time with my wife, Amanda. She was really excited about my retirement, and at 37, I still had several good years left to work. Over the last few months, we had talked about several opportunities as a second career. Amanda owns and operates a graphic design business on the ground floor of a building that we have refurbishing over the last two years. It was an old Apothecary from the fifties, complete with the old medicine cabinets; which were in immaculate condition. I am a shade tree wood worker and "fixit" kinda guy, so this was not only a challenge, but good therapy for the stressful job of being a warfighter. She had been working out of our home since we got married, but grew weary of not being able to close the office door at 5 o'clock. We found this "diamond in the rough" through a realtor friend of hers and fell in love with it almost immediately. The loft apartment upstairs and the garage were separated from the downstairs offices, which meant that you had to walk out of the garage or from the apartment's balcony, and come through the beautiful stained-glass framed front door to get to work. We liked it for several reasons: this was the city that we had planned on living in post-military, Amanda loved the idea of being able to walk to work, the building was not only customized by us, but we owned it, it was a great tax write-off as a female-owned business, and we were able to deduct some of the insurance, property tax, maintenance and utilities onto the business. My retirement started the next morning, so from a financial standpoint, we were standing in pretty tall cotton. We had dabbled with the idea of setting me up as a multi-purpose home repair business, but I was looking for something a little more low-key. I had spent over half of my life making decisions that sometimes meant the difference between life and death and longed for someone else to "take the reins" for a while…My classical education and degree was in Education and Counseling, but the military taught me that I could do just about anything that I set my mind to accomplishing. I have always wanted to make a difference in society; hence the first career as a defender of freedom, and now I was setting my sights on teaching our youth about the hard lessons of the past as a History teacher at Barbara H. Kinsey; the local, high-dollar, exclusive academy for girls.

The interview was pretty standard, but as an educated, married male with a sterling military background, I was a shoe-in for the job. Mrs. Stern, the principal or "Countess" as she was referred to as, was glad to see a male in the faculty. She regretted the fact that "her educators" had been exclusively female for some time, and because of the breakdown of the nuclear family, she was overjoyed to have the "male perspective" on staff. I liked the fact that even though this was an entry level position, it was well paid and I would be basically working for a tenured educator for the first two semesters. Amanda and I felt that this would give me the time to gradually decompress from the rigid environment of the military; although the Countess (I feel like I need to sit up straighter when I say that title, don't you?) stated that Kinsey was very much like the military, but with class, refinement and lace ruffles. I had interviewed and was offered the job prior to my retirement in May, so I had some time off to relax before the teachers gathered in late July, to perfect the plan for the upcoming sessions. I had a few projects in the woodshop and some odds and ends on the building that I could finish, but my priority was reestablishing my relationship with Amanda. Prior to retirement, I had just come home from a year-long deployment to a very hot, very dusty and very dangerous place. I could have continued my military career as a combat veteran, and used my experience to propel myself up through the ranks; but I knew long ago, that this organization will take everything you've got, if you let it. I decided to call it quits after 20 years because I love my wife. Our relationship had been put through the ringer with deployments and such, and it deserved something other than "Hostile Fire Compensation" and "Separation Allowance" on a pay stub.

I started my first day of retirement much like my last 7,300 days, with an early morning run through the streets of town. I have had to keep up my physical conditioning as a job requirement for so long, that it has almost become a religion. I gained an early appreciation for running and biking, so I maintained a lean physique and smooth legs for "wind resistance."

For the record, it was my shimmering gams that first got Amanda's attention when we met at the Annual Bike Ride for Multiple Sclerosis. I was riding with some friends from church and she was riding tandem with a girlfriend from college. Now, lots of guys that are into biking shave their legs for speed, and almost all wear bike shorts. Probably not as short as mine, and usually in black instead of yellow, pale blue or periwinkle. But… Oh, alright! FINE! Being the rough and tough GI Joe all time is tiring, and a fella has got to have a way to relieve the stress and rigors of being a member of Team Testosterone. So to keep my batteries charged and my sanity intact, I like to escape the regimented lifestyle of the best army in the world, and go to a softer, gentler place where I can take on a more passive, feminine persona… I like to dress in girlish frills, silk, satin, lace, and mince around in my high heels like a little sissy girl.

Whew, that feels good to get that little factoid out in the open. I was dressing in my mother's delicates since I can remember and have grown to love the feeling of a proper fitting bra. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I have always been accused of being an extremist and a perfectionist. I can think of a lot of other things worse than being a little anal-retentive, but it has served me well over the years, and as for the extremist attitude, it speaks volumes for the lifestyle and habits that I have formed in my life.

I have always thought that my legs were my best physical asset, and take a lot of pride in showing them off to whomever wants a look; I guess that you could go as far as to consider me a borderline exhibitionist. So what if I wear my shorts just a little too short, I'm a big Army guy; no one would ever suspect me of prancing around the house in a pink miniskirt and heels… Well almost nobody.

I met Amanda at one of the rest stops of the bike tour. She was so cute in her pale-blue bike skort and matching, clingy blue and white tank top. I recognized her friend from aerobics class at the local fitness center, as she was being helped over to the sports medicine tent. I approached them to see if she was ok.

"Are you ok, Rachel?" I asked with concern as the EMT gingerly removed her left shoe.

"Hi Danny", she said timidly.

"OUCH, please stop!" She said looking down at the medic and her ankle.

"By the amount of pain that you are experiencing, I would say that your ankle might be broken", said the kneeling medic.

"Well, I guess that's the end of the ride for us" said her friend with a heavy sigh.

Through gritted teeth, Rachel said, "Amanda, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine from the gym. Amanda Gregory, this is Danny Phelps." I looked up and saw a face that could light up a room.

I extended my hand, "Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you." She smiled and accepted my hand; she had quite a grip, "I saw you riding earlier today; nice legs". She said with a cocked eyebrow.

"Nice grip", I said laughing, as I shook my hand in mock pain.

"Now that you've met, Amanda, why don't you ask Danny to finish the ride with you on the tandem?"

"Nonsense, I'll stay with you and we'll try it again next year" she stated with certainty.

With a tear in her eye, probably from the pain of her ankle, she replied, "Please, I feel bad enough as it is; this was your first ride and I want you to finish. It's only another forty miles, Danny is an accomplished rider and holds his own in a conversation. Please finish the ride, I'll be fine."

She looked at me with concern in her eyes. If I were her, I'd be wondering who I was being set up with too.

"I'm game if you are, Danny" she said with a contemplative smile.

"Danny, I'll get the support crew to bring your bike to the finish and I'll meet you two there tonight" said Rachel.

The medic interjected, "Ok, if you all have that worked out, I want to get her to the hospital for an x-ray."

That was our cue to go. I brought my bike over to the support staff and had just put Rachel's name tape on the crossbar when I saw Amanda walking toward me with the tandem, "Do you mind if I start out in the backseat for a while?"

"Not at all" I replied. "What kind of pace were you two running?"

"Actually nothing to speak of; we were just trying to make the miles." She stated with some reservation.

"Great! I was getting tired of keeping up with those racer types anyway, and they weren't much on conversation either." After loading my bike onto the truck and waving one more goodbye to Rachel, Amanda and I headed back to the tour.

"It takes a special pair to pedal a tandem. I have seen many marriages end aboard one of these rascals" I said laughingly.

"I think that if someone is kind, considerate and consistent and does whatever I say, they'll be fine" she said in a matter of fact voice.

"The Commanda has spoken!" I replied.

"Amanda the Commanda. Hmm, I like the sound of that."

"So let it be written, so let it be done" I said with my best Yule Brenner imitation.

"So tell me about yourself, Danny. We have several miles to cover today.

"I don't want to bore you with all of my details yet." I said. "What topics were you and Rachel covering beforehand?"

"Oh, fashion, men, relationships, work; you know the basic girl stuff.

"Where did you leave off?" I said.

"We were considering the male ego", she said with a sigh.

"Well that should be one of the shortest topics today" I said with a chuckle. There was a moment of silence. Then she spoke.

"I hope that you won't take offense to this, but you have got the most beautiful legs I have ever seen on a man!" I could hear the smile in her voice, "I would say that we should change outfits to do them justice, but those cute shorts are doing just fine."

I felt my blood rush to my face. There was another moment of silence as I processed her statement. "Well, the Commanda has spoken, let's find a portapotty and trade outfits!" We laughed as another pair of bikers passed us on the left, looking rather suspiciously at us. I thanked her for the compliment and she said quietly with that same devilish smile, "You are most certainly welcome, Danny, or is it Danielle sometimes?" I was caught completely off guard, and began to glow a bright, rosy red. I felt my head go down and I stopped pedaling; actually twisted my right knee inward on the ball of my foot like some embarrassed, little girl! I was speechless that she had read me so quickly. Granted, my periwinkle shorts only had a five-inch inseam, which offered most of my smooth, tanned thighs for display, my lycra top was in the same color with white trim, I had on lavender ankle socks and black biking shoes; but nothing overtly girlish. It's not like you could see the sweaty outline of a sports bra or I had on matching lipstick or something! I was trying to come up with one of my standard rebukes about being a hardcore biker, but they seemed pale and transparent. I guess I confirmed her suspicion with my silence. She smiled confidently because she had me dead to rights. No matter what manly little comeback I could mutter, I couldn't disprove or shirk my initial response. I didn't know what to say.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you?" she said, trying to break the awkward silence.

"You just caught me off guard with that one" I said nervously and noticed that my face was still hot, but I felt strangely at ease at the sound of her voice.

"I didn't mean to offend you or anything" she said with a little trepidation. I was silently contemplating the fact that she read me like a book and started pedaling again.

After another moment of silence, she offered up another subject, "What do you do for a living?" Well here I go, down the rabbit hole with this response, "I'm in the Army."

"Well, that's quite a dichotomy" she said with a soft chuckle. "Though I guess that I can see that; what with all of that fighting and looking tough all of the time. I can see how reverting to a softer side sometimes would be very therapeutic. Hmm. I have to tell you, Danny, I am strangely intrigued. Would you care to have dinner with me tonight?"

With a deep sigh and a worried smile, I said, "I'd like that."

"Good. I'll pick you up at your place at seven." She said with a mischievous smile. We finished the ride with small talk about the area and commenting on the outfits of the other riders. We were laughing together again when we reached the finish line. Rachel was waving at us while balancing her weight on a pair of wooden crutches.

"Did she talk your leg off?" said Rachel to me with a smile.

"What did they say about your foot?" asked Amanda as we slowed the bike to a stop.

"It's only a sprain, but it hurts like hell!" she said. "Danny, I failed to say anything before because I was probably blinded in pain, but you look really cute in that outfit. Have you worn that one to class before?" she added. I felt my cheeks get hot again. I also felt Amanda's gaze on me.

"What class is this, exactly; and does that mean that you have other outfits too?" she said with a prying smile.

I turned to her and smiled, "I barely know you, yet somehow you seem to know volumes about me. How is this fair?" I said with mock irritation.

"I like to keep my men guessing" she said with a sly grin. We looked each other in the eye for a long moment; then from what seemed a million miles away, we heard Rachel clearing her throat, "Excuse me. Remember me, the injured one? Hello. Somebody is going to have to drive me home as my clutch foot will not be clutching for a couple of weeks."

Amanda smiled lazily at me and said, "I'm beat and I smell like a locker room." Looking at Rachel she offered, "How about if I take you home in your car with Danny following in his car, we'll get you settled, then Danny can bring me back to mine?" All in agreement, I loaded the bike while Amanda helped Rachel to her car.

My mind was racing; what in the hell was I going to do? I guess I'm going to dinner. What should I wear? What will she wear? Oh, good gosh…

I followed them to Rachel's house in my car. "I'll unload the tandem, if you'll help Rachel into the house" said Amanda over her shoulder. I reached into the passenger side to retrieve Rachel, and she shot me a knowing look.

"What?" I said with a nervous smile.

"I guess you two had a pretty good time on that last leg of the ride, hmmm?"

"Why, what did she say?" I said, fearing the worst.

"She wouldn't shut up about how nice you were and how good of a time you had together. She said that you talked about everything, and that you were really something special. She hasn't talked about anybody like that in a long time."

I carried her into the house, and Amanda met us in the living room. "Do you need help in the shower?" asked Amanda.

"I'm afraid that I might" she replied sheepishly.

"Oh, it's no big deal; we're all girls here anyway!" She said with a wide grin and shot me a look. I gave her a look back that shot little pink arrows and gave a plastic laugh. I had spent a lot of time in Rachel's company at the gym, but not much in the shower. She was really cute and all, and we had talked a lot, but I just didn't get the vibe from her. We helped Rachel through the bathroom door and sat her on the countertop.

"Alright, I'll let you two do your thing, and I'll be right outside if you need me" I said as I made my way out.

"Danny, you have really impressed me today" said Rachel. "We've talked a lot at the gym and had fun at Step Class, but I had no idea of how good of a person you were until today. Thank you for being here." I could see Amanda out of the corner of my eye, looking thoughtfully at me.

"Thanks Rachel, I am enjoying this too. Maybe we can all continue to spend time together; but I suggest that we might try it in a larger room" I said looking around the bathroom. They laughed and agreed. I walked out, and listened from the hallway. They talked and giggled for a bit, and I heard the water turn on in the shower. They continued to talk, but I couldn't really understand them over the sound of the shower. The water turned off, and the door opened shortly after. They were both smiling at me as Amanda followed Rachel through the door to me for support. She smelled like a warm, moist lilac, and wore a short pink silk kimono and a pink towel around her head. Her left ankle was bruised and swollen; poor thing. We slowly made our way to her bedroom where I eased her down onto her bed. Amanda followed us in and made her way to Rachel's closet.

"How about this little number?" She said as she held out a purple sequined evening gown. "I think that this is just the thing for bouncing around the house all alone, don't you Danny?" she said with a sly grin.

I figured that I might as well join in on the conversation, if only to show that I'm a good sport. "Absolutely, but not without all of the trimmings!"

Giggling, we both looked over at Rachel, who was sleeping soundly on her bed. "She took a Tylenol Four in the car on the way here" said Amanda quietly. I slowly covered her up with the bed spread while Amanda turned to put the dress back in to the closet. After moving the comforter over Rachel, I turned to see Amanda watching intently.

"Maybe she'd let you borrow the dress for tonight?" She said with a calculating smile.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, ma'am." I said with a smile and mock defiance.

"That's Mistress to you, young lady" she quickly replied. I felt my loins twitch involuntarily, and I became short of breath. Who was this woman and what was she doing in my head?

"What was that thought?" She asked as she took my hand in hers.

"Who are you and how did you get into my head so quickly." I said with wonderment.

We gazed into each others eyes for a long moment, then she broke the silence with a soft whisper, "Let's get out of here. I left my cell phone number on her nightstand. I'm hungry and we need to spruce up a bit before dinner." She raised an eyebrow, "What are you wearing to dinner tonight, Danny? By the way, is it Danny with a 'y' or an 'i'?"

My face began to feel hot again, and I lowered my gaze from her smoldering eyes.

"Well, while I am in the service of the United States military, it is with a 'y'; after that, who knows?"

I could see the wheels turning in her pretty head with that response, and felt another twitch in my nether regions. Damn, this girl was gonna be the death of me; I thought with a knowing grin.

"Did you just hear what I was thinking?" She asked with surprise.

"I think I did."

We tiptoed out of the bedroom and headed out the front door; locking it behind us. I opened the car door for her, watching her as she settled into the seat. She moved very smoothly, almost cat-like. I filed that away, along with the hundred other observations that I had made today about Amanda Gregory. The trip back to the high school, where the race had finished was quiet, as we were both contemplating the day and the upcoming evening. I wheeled my royal blue Ford Bronco into the parking lot, where most of the remaining vehicles and bikes were parked. "Where's your car?" I asked while scanning the area. She pointed to the right, "That green Passat over there" she said. After stopping behind her car, I took out a notepad and starting scribbling out a map to my house.

She turned to look me in the eyes, "How about if you just follow me to my house, I'll get cleaned up, then we can head to your place?" she said with confidence.

"As you wish" I replied.

She nodded, "That's what I like to hear." She softly patted my smooth thigh, got out of the car and closed the door. My eyes were glued to her heart-shaped behind as she walked the five paces to her car. She turned her head and caught me eyeballing the goods. Damn, busted again! I brought my gaze up to her as my cheeks once again flushed red, and I tried to force a little confidence into my smile. She flashed me another devilish smile as she slid into the driver's seat and closed the door. My heart was doing summersaults as I wheeled the Bronco back and waited for her to take the lead.

"Hell, she's taken the lead in every other way, so far; she might as well take them all." I said to myself with resolution as I slowly shook my head in disbelief.

She drove over to the moving truck that had transported all of the bikes that had been collected along the route, rolled down her window and waited. Now it was her turn to watch me as I walked over to the burly guy at the back of the trailer.

"What's the name, pal?" he said gruffly. I was holding my tag in my hand, when I remembered that I had put Rachel's tag on my bike. Shit.

"Um, Rachel Mertens, please." I said weakly.

His eyes moved from my eyes to my toes and back again; he smirked and said over his shoulder, "Hey Hal, Is there a bike for Rachel, here?

"Rachel Mertens?" replied Hal from the back of the truck. "Yeah" he said, staring me up and down.

My cheeks were burning, and I almost thought I was finished dealing with this character, when I heard Amanda's voice over my shoulder, "Rachel honey, don't forget your helmet" she said gushingly sweet and grinning widely.

I took a deep breath and remembered that Rachel's helmet was powder pink with her name written in green flower stems across the front. I turned back to Mr. Burly and he was also grinning ear to ear, just waiting for me to ask for "my" helmet.

I took another deep breath and started to ask, when he raised his thick hand and said with that same grin, "Hang on, honey, I'll get it for you myself." I stood there and fidgeted with the hem of my skimpy bike shorts while he and Hal searched for the helmet.

"Is it the pink one with your name on the front written in flowers, there Rachel?" asked Hal.

I involuntarily raised my chin and rose up on my tiptoes to answer, "Yes, thank you very much." I had to remind myself to keep breathing before I fainted in embarrassment.

"Here you go sugar." said Mr. Burly as he handed me the pretty pink bike helmet and smiled. I thanked him, turned and walked my bike back to my car. I was glaring at Amanda, who was grinning back at me and my rosy cheeks. I could also feel Mr. Burly and Hal burning four holes in the back of my cute periwinkle bike shorts too.

"Men, what'll we ever do with them" said Amanda rolling her eyes at me as I walked past her car. I nodded in agreement, and suddenly caught myself swaying my hips and rolling my eyes like her.

"Where in the hell do you think you are, Sally?" I asked myself as I accidentally switched into girl mode, right there in front of everybody. I made my way to the car; quickly loaded my bike onto the bumper mounted bike rack and crawled behind the steering wheel. I made eye contact with Amanda, who was still laughing as she waved at me to follow. I put the Bronco in drive, sighed heavily and tried to regain some manly composure. Good Gosh.

We arrived shortly after, at a cute brown-stone Tudor on the edge of town. "How cute is this?" I said to myself, as I steered into the driveway. Parking behind her, I was rewarded with another few moments of watching her dig through the trunk for her camelback, gym bag and bike helmet. I got out of the car before she turned around and busted me again. I smiled in triumph, as I felt that I got away with that small victory.

"The place is a real mess; I apologize. I've been looking for a maid for some time now, but can't seem to find the right person for the job." She said as she hung her belongings on the antique coat rack, in the foyer.

"It's ok, but you know how we military types are about clutter and keeping house." I said with a little sarcasm.

"Hmmm, then maybe I should hire you as my maid." She said with a grin, a cocked eyebrow, and her left arm, bent and resting against her full, round hip.

I again found myself fidgeting with the hem of my shorts, and visualizing myself dressed as her maid, mincing around the house, while she relaxed in her overstuffed recliner, nursing a glass of red wine.

She winked at me as she made her way to the bathroom. "I won't be long. Make yourself comfortable; there's beer in the frig, if you want."

I smiled nervously, "Thanks." I felt like I should be curtseying or something. Shit. What was I thinking? Who is this woman and how did she break into the vault of my subconscious?

I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and meandered around, looking at her surroundings; you can usually tell a lot about a person by what they have around the house. She had some photos of family, friends skiing, a few of what looked like Girls Night Out, and several river trips. The love of canoeing and life on the river was something that we had in common; that and the secret that I thought that I had so cleverly hidden for so many years. Who is this woman?

"I like to spend a lot of my spare time on the river, in case you haven't already figured that one out." She said from behind me. She was running a comb through her wet hair as she spoke. She was wearing a light blue cotton robe that stopped just above her knees. She also wore the easy smile of someone that was very comfortable in their own skin. "I have a craving for seafood tonight. There is a great little place downtown that I found through a friend. It's a really casual atmosphere too. How does that sound?"

I replied with a quote from one of my favorite movies, The Princess Bride, "As you wish."

"Careful Danny, I might get used to that." She said as she turned back toward her bedroom. "Have you given any thought as to what you are going to wear tonight?"

Trying to sidestep the fact that she already suspects that I am a panty wearing little Nancy-boy, I said, "You said that this place was pretty casual, didn't you? Would khaki's be too much?"

"Not if they were cute Capri's with a pink peasant top and sandals." She said almost too matter of fact. "I have some pale blue ones that would fit you, if you want to borrow them."

I'm glad she was talking from her bedroom, so that she couldn't see me blushing like a schoolgirl. Who was she, and what was she doing in my head?!!?!

She came out in a pair of khaki Capri-pants, a lavender tank top with spaghetti straps and brown leather thongs. She also wore a slim watch with a lavender band on her left wrist and a silver tennis bracelet on the other along with a small opal in a silver setting on her middle finger. She was beautiful. Just a little mascara and some lip-gloss was all she wore. She had a natural radiance about her. I stared in awe at her for a moment, until she snapped her fingers and woke me out of my daydream.

"Can I take that to mean that you like?" She said doing a little pose. I just nodded and smiled. "Good. Let's go to your place and get you cleaned up. I'm starving."

I held the door open for her as she slid into the passenger seat. I recognized her perfume as she moved by me; Sunflowers, my favorite. As a matter of fact, I had a bottle at home, for personal use. Shit. It just dawned on me that I was about to take this woman to my home. I ran through the house, in my mind, trying to remember how much of a mess I had left. Let's see, I wore the mint baby doll nightie to bed last night. I made myself some pasta for dinner, in preparation for the bike ride. What did I wear, as I have a thing about dressing up to cook; some little quirk that would support that accusation of me being a little bit of an extremist. Oh yeah, I wore that brown plaid miniskirt, that cropped red sweater, brown tights and my brown knee boots. Ok, I remember putting the sweater and skirt in the dry cleaning bag, the tights, bra and panties into the laundry basket and the boots in the closet. The only thing that I had to worry about was my makeup kit on the bathroom counter.

Being a closet queen is a constant juggling and cleanup act: dress to the nines in private, but when your manly-man friends or a new romance possibility comes by, the little sissy's got to sanitize the place. I long for the day when I can actually have a real vanity, out in the open, for all to see, and not have to make up some story with the lady at the dry cleaners, about why I am always picking up dresses along with my military uniforms.

While I drove, we talked about the ride, music, theater, Rachel, jobs, the economy and the wisdom of the government; she was a real intellect. We arrived at my small ranch-style home, which we discovered that it was only about fifteen minutes from her house.

She surveyed the house and yard as she climbed out of the car, "Hmmm, a very clean and orderly outward appearance, Danny; just as it should be."

"Thank you very much." I said with some trepidation; worried about the emphasis on "outward"?

We entered through the garage so that I could offload my bike, since I was driving to dinner. I opened the door to the kitchen, which was immaculate as usual. Along with having a strong indoctrination by the military, practicing a fantasy about being a sissy maid, thereby needing lots of props to act out that little scenario; my home is always spotless.

I followed her in as she continued to evaluate my dwelling. "Very tastefully decorated, I must admit" She said with a nod of acceptance. "I like the island in the kitchen; sort of a Postman Always Rings Twice theme." She struck a nerve with that reference, as that is another one of my other favorite movies.

"That was the exact reference for that piece." I said with lust in my eyes; vividly remembering the scene when Jack Nicholson picks up Jessica Lang and literally falls with her onto that butcher block, hiking up her skirt and exposing those exquisite thighs encased in nude stockings and off-white garter belt; Whew!

She smiled at me over her shoulder as she strolled over to the couch. "Into the shower, you; I'm starving!" She said pointing toward where she thought said shower was located.

"How about I whip up a little snack, to tide you over? Maybe some cheese, fruit and a little wine?" I asked, mentally filing this away as an addition for the next chapter of my sissy maid scenario.

"That sounds lovely." She said with that sly smile, which she has perfected today. Then she moved to my overstuffed recliner and settled in, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She noticed that I started to take exception to her taking "the Chair", and locked eyes with me, as if daring me to deny her the honor of the throne. I felt my heart skip a beat, as I averted my gaze in retreat and concentrated on preparing the snack. I looked up when I heard her murmur while reaching for the Victoria's Secret catalog on the coffee table. Dammit! She shot me a knowing look, and I wish that I could've crawled under this butcher block and hid for a year or two!

"Do you have a highlighter that I could borrow?" She asked.

"There's one on that bookcase." I replied pointing at the recessed bookcase to the left of the fireplace.

"Why don't you get it for me, Danny." She said finality in her voice and a stern look in her eye.

I felt my stomach drop and my ears burn, as I had fantasized about hearing that firm tone of voice addressing me for some time. I started to walk over as nonchalantly as possible and retrieve the marker. It was a little difficult, as I felt a stirring in my loins, and these bike shorts offered no support when it came to keeping that hidden. I found myself visually searching around the room for something to cover up my embarrassing predicament. Once again, Amanda saw me hesitating and suddenly searching the room from the security of the waist-high butcher block.

"You know, Danny, you should really wear something over your clothes when preparing food; one wrong move and you could absolutely ruin an outfit. Why don't you put on that cute apron that's hanging from that cabinet?" She said while leisurely pointing at the cabinets behind me. Shit, that's what I had forgotten. The lilac satin pinafore that I wore was hanging right where I left it last night. I immediately began to feel the sweat on my upper lip and the heat radiating from my ears. I looked up to see her smiling widely at me, with her slender digit still pointed at the apron. For a split second, I tried to think of some lame excuse as to why I had such a dainty garment in my kitchen. Could I say it was the cleaning lady's; no, I had been boasting about keeping my own house. Shit! With another deep breath and a sigh of resolution (that I was caught like a boy caught wearing his momma's high heels), I turned and slowly donned the frilly apron. I reached back to tie to wide satin ribbon, when I felt Amanda take the two ends and pull them snugly around my waist.

"Here, let me help you with that." She whispered closely in my ear. "I want to make sure that the bow is tied just right." I placed my hands on the counter, if only to maintain my balance, as my head was spinning with nervous excitement. "There, that should do nicely for now."

I heard her take a step back to survey her work. "Turn around, Danny. Let's have a look." I turned around slowly.

"How adorable is that?" she asked openly and with excitement in her voice. Something deep inside forced me to lower my head, and thank her for helping me put on my apron.

She smiled in quiet triumph, "You're very welcome. Now that you somewhat properly attired, why don't you finish your task at hand."

"Yes Ma'am." I said quietly, and gave a slight curtsey. She turned on her toe and returned to her new throne.

How did she figure out that I was hiding my male-shame behind the butcher block? Who is this woman? Another deep breath and I returned to slicing the fruit and cheese. I was grateful for the firm shape and heavy satin material of the apron, as it was effectively covering the erection that was now pulsating in my skimpy shorts. I placed the plate of sliced Muenster cheese, queen size green olives, pitted black cherries and sliced apricot, and a sleek, elegant glass of Chardonnay on a small serving tray and carefully walked toward Amanda. She had her nose in the catalog when I approached, and sarcastically acted as if I had surprised her, "Oh, well isn't this just perfect." She said as she pointed to a spot on the coffee table. "Danny, do you court all of your ladies like this?"

My ears began to burn again, "No Ma'am, I usually save this for the important ones." I said with a nervous chuckle.

"Like I said earlier, that's what I like to hear." She said, once again smiling in triumph. "Now that I am well provided for, why don't you take off your adorable apron, for now, and get cleaned up." I nodded or better yet, curtseyed in agreement and turned to go find a rock to hide under.

"Wait." She said, stopping me in my tracks. "Let me help you untie your apron. Can you find a cute hanger somewhere, so that you can properly hang it in the pantry, for next time?"

"Yes Ma'am." I said and started toward my bedroom. I was then surprised to feel her smack me soundly on the behind.

"Hurry up, sweetie; and while you're in the shower, I'll find you something to wear."

  

  

  

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