Life was good, busy, but good.I looked up from my newspaper as she pushed down the plunger of the French Press then poured our coffees. She was unawar... that I was watching and I smiled to myself. She looked very pretty today; I liked it when she looked pretty for me. Her skirt was flared, coming halfway down her thighs, and her black tights accentuated her slim, shapely legs. How I adored those dainty ankles and, as she had her back to me, I could see the cute dimples at the backs of her knees.. I thought he had grown by nearly a foot, butI realized suddenly that it was I who had grown shorter bynearly a foot. I began to understand I was going to bespending a lot of time in conversations looking up.I'd be looking up, I thought, but men I was conversing withwould be looking either further down. Despite Doris'scomment, I felt as if I had a more than substantial set ofbreasts. How the hell did women put up with their swayingand their weight? Besides, as large as mine were, I knewfrom my. More

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