I removed my shorts, shirt, and bra, grabbed a big sleeveless tee shirt from Gerry’s drawer, and pulled it on. It was long enough to cover my pantie.... I had a habit of wearing clothes belonging to the men I’ve known. In retrospect, maybe it was my way of marking them. “Okay to come in?” I asked, rapping on the bathroom door. “Yep. Just me and my bubbles.” Gerry’s head was propped on the back of the tub with a wet cloth over his face. With muscled arms draped on the sides and one knee rising. I watched with renewed interest as a full-figured woman, not fat by any means, but had plenty of curves mostly in all the right places, emerge from the Range Rover. She was very attractive, maybe in her mid to late forties; dressed very erotically in red lingerie, suspenders, stockings, the whole nine yards. Her husband climbed out the driver's side, and the tailgate automatically began to open, and the lady went and sat on the edge of the car at the back. I watched as her husband began to. More

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