"Wh-what?" I said, slightly dizzy with the alcohol and the late hour."You keep looking at me," she replied, narrowing her eyes suspiciously."What do y...u mean?" You keep looking at my legs and feet," she said with mock accusation. "That's not true!" I spat, shaking my head. Without thinking, my gaze fell to her toes, distracted by the way she kept flexing them back and forth, stretching the thin material of her black pantyhose. Each painted jewel seemed to dance with a hypnotic rhythm that held. The bet was that for six months he'd wear anything she wanted himto wear, anywhere, anytime, and would give her no further trouble. Or if she lost, she'd wear anything he wanted, even the slutwearshe hated but he always made her wear when they went out. Howcould he refuse a bet like that, especially when he knew she knewnothing about basketball? Anyhow, in the end, all of our husbands' cheeks were as smooth asours, and their voices were even more mellifluous, and theirnighties were soft and. More

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