His breath, like momentary white ghosts, became highlighted in the wan, late autumn lightHe had been there, contemplating, for two hours or so, ignori...g the chill and watching the day unfold. How he hated this Sunday each year, hated the march of veterans, but was drawn in some morbid fascination annually. Each year, he observed the file of crippled soldiers, long since passed their usefulness to a society doing it's best to forget for the other three hundred and sixty four days, except in the. He looked and saw a black maid's dress on the bed. That was a littledisappointing to him; he preferred the dresses of the princessparties.But if this was what Gwen had it mind, he would go along withit.First, she handed him a pair of pink panties. They were small, and lacy,but they were beautiful. Why didn't they hang pictures of panties in theLouvre?Jo-Jo slid them up his legs. They were silky and felt cool to the touch.He hardened immediately.Gwen handed him a matching bra, and Jo-Jo. More

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