"It must be a dream."He wandered over to his closet, feeling the swish of hair upon his shoulders with ever step. Gone were his jeans and polo shirts,...replaced instead by a variety of colorful skirts and blouses... even a cheerleader's uniform. Feeling the fabric of the panties and bras that now filled his underwear drawer, he clutched his chest only to feel two soft lumps in his grasp. Panic had already set in by the time he reached for his crotch and felt the inevitable void. The silence that. I laughed. “Nobody who doesn’t have Cindy and a Pilatus,” I said. “I’m starting to hear about THAT one through the grapevine.”“We’re writing an article for one of the trade magazines about it,” Dan said. “Got the client’s buy-in. Gonna use him and Jason as co-authors. Pictures, the whole schmeer.”“I think we oughta talk about it. If training crosses your mind, jot down some notes. We’ll start gathering and sifting and coalescing and see if there’s something we should market.” Alan turned to me. More

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