Chapter 10 - Ladies Night Out
The next morning was a Friday. As we dressed to go to the
club for our workout. Kelly pulled her thong leotard on over her
tights then reached for her fanny pack instead of first putting on a
tee-shirt. She grinned at me in acknowledgment of the correctness of
my previous prediction.
"One of these days," she vowed, "we'll get you out from under
your tee-shirt as well."
"I don't think so," I disagreed in disappointment. "The
exercise and lost weight have done a good job on my love handles but
I'm always going to need a corset to get a good feminine shape."
"I guess you're right," she agreed. "We'll just have to get
you plenty of corsets, then."
I smiled in agreement but couldn't help feeling a little
jealous of Kelly's spectacular figure. Her weight loss had all been
in unnecessary areas and while she could stand to lose a little more
off her tummy, her magnificent bustline made most other places
irrelevant.
"You know," she mused, "you still need an incentive for the
next ten pounds."
"I haven't even gotten all of my outfits for the last
incentive, yet," I grinned.
"I know," she said, "but you need to get a start on the next
one as well. I have to admit your choices for my incentives have been
outstanding. . ."
"Especially the last one," I interrupted with my own version
of the amused smile.
"Yes," she admitted with a quick blush, then continued, "but
that just means I have to find one as good for you."
"I can hardly wait . . . or is that weight as in pounds?" I
laughed.
Kelly smiled at my weak pun, but maintained her thoughtful
expression as we headed for the club and all through our exercises. I
waved as I left, finishing before her as usual, and she waved back in
a distracted fashion.
That evening as I pulled into the drive, Billie Jo came
walking over with a package in her hands. It was interesting to see
how our relationship had changed since I had become aware of the depth
of her interest in Kelly. Now I was confident and she was
embarrassed.
"Hello, Billie Jo, have you got something for us?"
"Yes, another package came for you."
Deciding this was the best time to broach the subject of
Kelly's third incentive, I casually commented, "I couldn't help
noticing your interest yesterday, in Kelly's . . . clothes."
She nodded silently, but her cheeks heated with a rush of
blood.
"Kelly has often mentioned how impressed she is with your
commitment to physical fitness," I continued. "She respects that
greatly."
Again, Billie Jo could only nod, not entirely sure where I was
heading.
"Did Kelly ever tell you how she earned that new outfit you
were admiring?" I asked.
"No," she finally said, curiosity at the purpose of my
conversation beginning to overcome her embarrassment.
"For the last few months we've been on a weight loss program,"
I explained.
"I could tell. The results have been pretty impressive,"
Billie Jo interjected.
"We decided our best success would come if we had near-term
incentives based on incremental savings. That dress was Kelly's
reward for losing a second ten pounds and keeping it off."
A light began to dawn in Billie Jo's eyes as she remembered
the changes she had noticed in my own attire during our evening walks.
"A second ten pounds, you said?" Billie Jo invited me to
explain further.
"Right, for the first ten pounds, she got some lingerie . . ,"
I paused for effect, " and a set of handcuffs."
Billie Jo gasped as her blush returned, but I could see her
nipples pop up through her blouse.
Continuing on before she had a chance to comment, I said, "and
we've already decided on her incentive for her third ten pound
increment."
Her curiosity won over her renewed embarrassment and Billie Jo
asked, "What's that?"
"You," I replied with a grin.
"What?" she blurted, but her nipples popped up so hard I knew
they must hurt, and her breath froze in her throat.
"You heard me," I confirmed. "When Kelly loses another ten
pounds, we want you to come over for an evening of intimate
entertainment."
"With you, also," she breathed, confusion rampant on her face.
"If you want," I offered. "I'll be there, but no one will do
anything they don't enjoy. You might be surprised, though, at what we
enjoy, especially Kelly. Think it over."
This invitation to let her imagination run wild had the
desired effect. After an instant's dreamy look confirmed a ready
fantasy, Billie Jo blushed hotter than ever and dropped her eyes. She
seemed to have overcome the need to breathe, her heart locked in her
throat. Nodding abruptly, she turned and fled back to her own house.
I wondered if her nod meant acceptance of the invitation or only that
she would think it over. When Kelly arrived I decided not to tell her
about my conversation with Billie Jo, at least, not yet. Kelly had a
package under her own arm, which she offered to me as I gave her the
one I had gotten from Billie Jo.
In my package were two more corsets. Both were identical in
style to my midnight blue one, but the first was the deep red of my
nightgown, while the other was in a pure, virginal white. Holding
them up against my body, I realized they would be even tighter than my
first one, if fully pulled snug. I was so distracted by my intimate
finery that I didn't notice the contents of the package that Kelly had
opened. When I finally looked up to once again see Kelly's smug
smirk, I saw in Kelly's package a lacy blouse and a short denim skirt.
Instead of my usual midnight blue, the blouse was in the deep red
color she had decided set off "my" hair so well. In the package were
also thin-strapped sandals, matching the blouse in color, but matching
my satin pumps in the height of the heel.
Hurrying into the bedroom, I stripped off my outer clothes and
Kelly began my amazing transformation. She laced me into the red
corset with no relaxation of her commitment to squeeze me tighter each
time. Deciding that suntan stockings were more appropriate with
denim, she handed me a pair. Once I was securely laced in and had my
stockings fastened to the garters, Kelly handed me the micro-miniskirt
and the nearly see-through blouse. It was only as she was buttoning
the blouse that I realized it did not have a high collar.
"What about my Adam's Apple?" I asked.
"Got it covered," she punned as she held out a wide choker
neck band in red velvet.
I reached for the choker but Kelly drew it back. "Not until
after we do your makeup," she insisted.
This time, in applying cosmetics to my face, Kelly explained
every step. She would do one side and have me do the other. Only
when she was sure that I understood what needed to be done would she
move on to the next color or item. Her patience was rewarded by my
success in matching her creative style, though she had to explain some
of the elegant subtleties in careful detail. When we were finally
done, she handed me the choker and brought out the lustrous waves of
the wig. Again she explained every step in adjusting the fit, and in
pulling the flippant bangs into the correct position. After this
intense training session I was confident I could reproduce the miracle
of my transformation . . . as long as I could remember everything that
is.
I bent to wrap the sandal straps around my ankles, and was
brought up short by the stiff corset.
"Kelly," I complained, "I can't do this."
"Well," she grinned as she bent to complete the task, "I guess
I don't have to worry about you taking your shoes off when I'm not
around."
"That's it!" she exclaimed with a burst of giggles. "I know
your third incentive."
"What?" I asked in confusion.
"When you get your third ten pounds off, you're going to take
a vacation from your office."
"Huh?" I glibly returned.
"You're going to take a vacation. For that time you will be
pure Brandy, total immersion. We will take a vacation someplace where
no one knows you and you will be totally female to anyone we meet. We
won't always be together, either. Part of the time, you'll be Brandy
alone."
The idea fascinated me as a snake fascinates a bird. I knew
it was dangerous, but I couldn't turn away from the idea. Discovery
was always a threat, but with Kelly to keep me out of trouble I had
accepted the idea that I could handle it. Removing that safety
blanket was a dramatic step. The blood pounded in my erection even
before the blush lit my face and it was clear I was hooked. Then the
practical difficulties raised their ugly heads.
"I can't even put on my corset by myself," I worried, "and I
don't have any ID or driver's license."
"You let me worry about that," she reminded me of my words to
her. "You just worry about losing the weight."
She finished fastening my sandals, and I stood to look in the
mirror. Brandy was back in all her undeniable beauty. No one could
doubt that this gorgeous creature was a woman, sensual, mysterious in
some undefinable way, utterly desirable.
"Wow," I gushed, "another success. You're a genius!"
Smiling in agreement, Kelly pulled out another pair of tight
silk gloves, in red this time, and handed them to me along with
earrings and other jewelry.
"You finish putting these on while I change," she directed.
Kelly had her own denim mini and high-heeled sandals, though
once again not as high as the ones she had inflicted on me. She chose
a soft silk blouse rather than matching the lace I wore. Handing me
her ice-blue corset, she turned for me to wrap it around her and lace
her in. Revenge is sweet, I thought as I got back at her for the
tightness of my own constraining garment. Chest heaving for breath,
Kelly grinned as she acknowledged my success and quickly finished
dressing. She needed help with her own sandals which I could provide
since she could raise her feet into my reach.
"We're going to have to put our shoes on before we complete
lacing our corsets, if we don't wear slip-on shoes," she observed.
"What are you complaining about?" I teased her. "This is
twice in a row you've gotten off with lower heels than me."
"Oh," she grinned, "but you have a much better swing to your
hips. You can wear them so much better than I can."
I pretended to try and catch her to slap her for her
impudence, but she knew she was much more nimble in her heels than I
was in mine, so she danced away out of reach. Then she came back into
my arms and we hugged, which was not nearly as much fun as normal
since the corsets armored our waists and we didn't dare smear our
makeup. Laughing and giggling at all the implications of my
cross-dressing we strolled out of the house.
"Where are we going, anyway?" I asked.
"I figured we'd go back to the mall," she replied, "and then
get some dinner."
"I have to try something," I decided, motioning Kelly to wait.
Stepping carefully to keep my heels from disappearing into the
grass, I crossed from our driveway to Billie Jo's, and then approached
her door. Ringing the bell, I held what little breath the corset let
me have in anticipation of Brandy meeting someone who also knew Ran.
Billie Jo came to the door and asked normally, "Can I help
you?" before she really took a good look at the woman before her. A
quizzical expression clouded her features as she began to wonder who I
was. The transformation had been so effective that even though she
already suspected what had happened to Ran, she could not believe who
she thought I might be.
"Hello," I softly sang in Brandy's musical contralto. "I'm
Brandy Dewinter, Ran's sister. Kelly and I are going shopping and
then to dinner. Would you like to come along?"
The sibling relationship I claimed was a credible enough
explanation for the similarity between Ran's features and Brandy's
that Billie Jo's doubts increased. She looked at Kelly, dressed so
beautifully as well, and Billie Jo realized that she would be a poor
third in looks with her normal tee-shirt and shorts. Surely, I could
almost hear her thinking, this gorgeous woman cannot be Ran! She
started to shake her head in refusal.
"Come on, Billie Jo, put on some sexy clothes and come with
us."
This comment caused her jaw to drop, and surprise widened her
eyes, for I had deliberately delivered it in Ran's normal tenor.
Gulping air like a fish out of water, she stared at me in disbelief.
"Please come with us," I entreated in Brandy's soft tones. "I
would so like to get to know you better."
I turned and motioned to Kelly to join us, wondering if her
close proximity would increase the intensity of Billie Jo's emotions
or help to get her back together. Billie Jo continued to stare at me,
the message of her eyes contradicting the message her mind was trying
to assimilate. When Kelly arrived, she looked at her, made up as
beautifully as on the previous night though in a more conventional
outfit than the leather dress and handcuffs. She started to refuse
again.
"I can't come with you. You're . . both . . so beautiful,"
explained Billie Jo.
"Kelly's a genius with cosmetics. You wouldn't believe what I
looked like before she helped me with my makeup," I whispered as
though sharing a deep secret. "She can help you, too, if you want."
"I've never really gone in for that sort of thing," Billie Jo
tried to deny her interest.
"No time like the present to start," I insisted.
I caught Kelly's eyes with mine and in the near-telepathy of
those who share their lives completely, I let her know my intentions.
We gently but firmly pulled Billie Jo from her doorway and took her to
our house. Leading her into the bedroom, Kelly sat her down at the
vanity table, and I went into the closet to find Billie Jo some
clothes.
"What size shoes to do you wear?" I called out.
"6," Billie Jo replied with confusion. She was beginning to
understand what we had in mind but was not sure how far we intended to
go.
I wasn't sure what clothes to choose without my native guide.
Kelly's sense of style and color had demonstrated genius and I knew I
was not as capable. However, I didn't want to lose the momentum we
were building in Billie Jo's transformation and Kelly couldn't be in
two places at once. Finally, I decided to get the same outfit Kelly
had worn for Brandy's first outing. Finding the black leather
mini-skirt and black lace blouse, I looked around for the spike-heeled
boots. They were a size 6 1/2, so they would fit if we found some
heavy socks to pad Billie Jo's feet a little. That reminded me about
underwear. Billie Jo didn't really need a corset but she did need
appropriately erotic lingerie. I found the garter belt Kelly had
given me and a clean pair of dark, seamed stockings.
When I returned to the bedroom I could see that Kelly was well
on her way to another miracle. Billie Jo's lean face was sharply
angular, too strong to be very feminine, though the clean lines and
high cheekbones offered a potential to build on. Kelly had softened
the planes of Billie Jo's face rather than emphasizing them as she did
in her own makeup. The result changed Billie Jo from lean strength to
refined elegance. Since it was easier to work that way, Kelly had
turned Billie Jo away from the mirror. As she finished she let Billie
Jo turn and look. Her hands flew to her transformed face, prompting a
laugh from both Kelly and I.
"When she first worked her magic on me," I explained, "she had
my hands bound behind the chair so I couldn't touch anything and screw
it up."
The mention of bondage resurrected the hard points of Billie
Jo's nipples through her shirt. I knew that her interest in that
aspect of a potential relationship with us would probably be the
deciding factor in her eventual acceptance of our invitation to
intimacy. She realized that her reaction was showing, and then
noticed the clothes I held. Her pleasure at the beauty she saw
reflected in the mirror gave her the last push she needed to embrace
the idea of going along with us, and she stood up with clear resolve.
Stripping off her shirt without embarrassment, she reached for the
black lace blouse.
Kelly waved me back and said, "Wait a minute, Billie Jo, we
need to start with your underwear."
I had been so fascinated by the change in Billie Jo that I had
not been paying adequate attention to Kelly. Her face was flushed,
her breathing was ragged, and I would have bet her nipples were as
hard within her corset cups as Billie Jo's exposed ones were. She was
clearly excited by the close proximity to a half-naked, beautiful
woman in a situation of sensuality not found in a girl's locker room.
Pointing at the sexless exercise shorts that hung on Billie Jo's
narrow hips, Kelly motioned her to remove them. Under the shorts
Billie Jo had on plain white cotton panties.
"Those just won't do," Kelly declared. "Hmm, your hips are
too small for most of my underwear. Let me see, I may have something,
though."
Rummaging around in her drawers, Kelly extracted a
barely-there, sheer g-string with thin elastic that provided enough
flexibility to make it one size fits all. She smiled and handed it to
Billie Jo, who looked at it with fascination but did not immediately
reach for it.
"Come on, Billie Jo, you deserve it," I urged.
I seemed to have hit on a magic word, for once Billie Jo began
to believe that she actually deserved to be pretty and sensuous, she
began to open up with more energy. Of course, I had always believed
it was impossible to spend time within range of Kelly's effervescence
without being lifted up so perhaps my choice of words was not such a
major driver. Whatever the reason, as Billie Jo reached for the
negligible g-string she began to grin and giggle along with Kelly and
I. She stripped out of her cotton panties without self-consciousness
and I wondered if she had forgotten that there was a male in the room.
I wasn't about to remind her. Though Kelly, with her flamboyant bust
fit my image of optimal female beauty much better than Billie Jo's
leanness, I was very much aware of the now-naked woman placing a sexy
g-string around her waist. I turned away to hide my reaction, as much
from Kelly as from Billie Jo. The tight thong I wore kept my package
hidden unless I was really aroused and a few seconds of thinking about
other things let me regain my control. By the time I turned back,
Billie Jo had donned the garter belt and was fastening the garters to
the seamed stockings. Deciding a bra was unnecessary with Billie Jo's
leaner figure, Kelly let her have the skirt and blouse and I handed
her some thick footlets I had found in Kelly's sock drawer. In a few
minutes, Billie Jo was standing in Kelly's black high-heeled boots and
her transformation was almost complete.
"Back to your house for some better earrings and jewelry, then
we go out," Kelly announced.
Billie Jo had clearly not walked in high heels much and I was
about to give her some advice when Kelly waved me to silence. In a
few more steps I saw what she had anticipated. Billie Jo's naturally
athletic poise had soon given her a gliding grace. She did not need
to swing her hips as dramatically as I did, though a gentle rhythm was
clearly apparent. Instead, Billie Jo gracefully flowed from one foot
to the other with an elegance more in keeping with her lean face and
figure.
"You know, if she let her hair grow out she'd be a knockout,"
I whispered to Kelly. "Different from you, but really attractive in
her own way."
Kelly's response was an embarrassed flush, showing that she
was not immune to the attractiveness of our transformed neighbor. My
objective assessment of Billie Jo's new looks had a very subjective
counterpart in Kelly's building desire.
We left our house and went next door. In a few minutes Billie
Jo had changed her simple posts for glittering golden loops, shining
dramatically in contrast with her dark hair and clothes. As we left
her house again, we looked at our choices for transportation. My
pick-up was clearly out of the picture and climbing in and out of the
back of Kelly's Camaro was something I didn't want to try in such
dangerously short skirts. The obvious choice was Billie Jo's car, a
four-door Taurus. We got into the car, carefully placing our heels
together, sitting down, and then swinging our legs inside with an
almost choreographed sequence which launched new fits of giggling from
all of us.
"Where are we going?" asked Billie Jo.
"It's too late for shopping," Kelly mused. "Let's just go get
dinner."
Without further discussion Billie Jo drove to a restaurant
Kelly and I had never tried before. She parked in the closest space
she could find and we extracted ourselves from the car. I was gaining
in confidence, but moving into such a public place still made me
nervous. I fidgeted with my skirt and my hair and found the others
moving off without me. Not wanting to become obvious by calling out,
I hurried after them and almost stumbled on my tall heels. I forced
myself to get a grip on my skills and concentrated on the swinging
gait I had learned. By this time we were near the door and my
exaggerated sway contrasted with the smooth glide of Billie Jo and the
reduced motion allowed by Kelly's lower heels to make my entrance seem
deliberately provocative. The other two watched my final approach.
Billie Jo's eyes widened again in surprise at the blatant sexuality
and Kelly giggled at both my motion and at Billie Jo's surprise.
"She's shameless," Kelly whispered to Billie Jo. "We ought to
follow along behind her handing out Kleenex to all the poor fools
drooling over that hot woman! Or maybe ice water to cool off some of
these studs."
The silver tones of her laugh carried through the entryway. I
had been doing pretty well tonight in maintaining a cool, calm facade,
but when I became the focus of their laughter my always-close blush
resurrected itself. I glance around to see if others were watching
and it seemed that every eye in the place was on us. This fanned the
flames in my cheeks and I hissed at Kelly to be quiet, which only
increased their mirth. By now, Billie Jo was thoroughly enjoying
herself, fully into the game of treating me as a woman, though always
aware of our shared secret. The amused light shining from her eyes
lit up her elegant face into a more potent beauty than I had ever seen
in her. In a moment the attractiveness of our threesome was
demonstrated literally, as men began to converge like iron to a set of
shapely magnets.
It was interesting to see the types of men gravitating toward
us. Billie Jo, with her restrained elegance, was the immediate focus
of an overpoweringly sensual stud, draped with gold chains that showed
against his furry chest through his unbuttoned shirt. It seemed he
relished the challenge of thawing what he thought was an ice maiden.
Kelly's angelic smile drew a correspondingly nice looking man. He had
a matching grin and approached with cheerful exuberance. I reflected
on how lucky I was to have found and captured her since this man was
taller (as most men were), more fit, and more personable than I felt
myself to be. Kelly could have had him at any time with little more
than a smile. In fact, a small frown of jealousy must have shown on
my face for Kelly looked at me with another telepathic message of
reassurance. I then found myself the target of a dark, heavily-built
man. He smoldered with deep wells of masculinity, silently shouting
his power and his control. I saw in him an exaggeration of the master
personality I wore when I bound Kelly to my will. There was no trace
of the angel in him, nor in me.
His approach was derailed when Kelly grabbed my hand, and
Billie Jo's and pulled us both with her to the powder room. Billie Jo
looked at the sign on the door with arched brow and then at me, but
Kelly sailed on through. I followed, though not without refreshing
the heat in my cheeks and the amused light sparkled from Billie Jo's
eyes. Inside, Kelly motioned me to the counter, indicating that I was
to take care of any cosmetic repairs myself. I quickly assessed the
minor damages, mostly a diminished lipstick shine, and proceeded to
set things right. Now a measure of respect was added to the amusement
in Billie Jo's expression as she realized that I had learned feminine
skills even she did not possess. Billie Jo glanced in the mirror and
was about to turn away when Kelly stopped her and made her replenish
her makeup to the uncompromising excellence Kelly demanded in her
creations. Properly chastened, Billie Jo began to comply.
"Did you see that stud that was after Brandy?" Kelly chortled.
"That man was not going to take no for an answer."
Billie Jo stammered and added her own blush to the one flaming
my cheeks.
"I think she was too occupied with her own conquest to pay
attention to anyone else," I teased.
The heightened color in her cheeks confirmed my insight.
Kelly's tinkling mirth prodded at us both. Through the mirror, I met
Billie Jo's eyes, and we smiled at each other in acceptance of Kelly's
jibes. This wordless pact moved us into a warm sisterhood I had never
shared before. My emotional ties with Kelly were rich and fulfilling,
but she was too cheerful and open for the sort of quiet depth I
suddenly felt with Billie Jo. In Billie Jo's expression I saw a
change in her attitude toward me. Previously, my cross-dressing
adventure was a joke we shared. Now, she respected and honored this
facet of my personality and from that point I truly became Brandy to
her.
Tossing my long hair into position, I made one last check and
declared myself ready to face the world. Billie Jo smiled and nodded
concurrence and Kelly proudly led her creations back into the entryway
of the restaurant. Before the stud patrol could again converge, our
table was called and we sauntered to our seats. Kelly and I ordered
our usual salads and Billie Jo was about to do the same when we
stopped her.
"Listen, you beautiful woman, you need to add a little shape
to maximize your potential. Eat something with some delicious fat and
lots of protein," Kelly demanded.
"Please do, we're so proud of you, but you could do with a few
more curves," I confirmed.
She agreed to compromise with a small steak and baked potato,
loaded with creamy butter. We jealously agreed with her selection,
resigning ourselves to perpetual constraints. As we waited for our
dinners Kelly engaged Billie Jo in a conversation clearly designed for
its effect on me.
"Did Brandy tell you about the hunk who was chasing her the
last time we were out?" Kelly opened.
"No, tell me!" Billie Jo returned, pretending not to notice my
embarrassed hiss at Kelly.
I ducked my head in an attempt to find some sort of oblivion,
but the liquid waves of my hair flowed down over my gloved hands in a
proclamation of sensuality.
"See?" Kelly chortled. "She does it all the time. She uses
that hair and her hips to get men's attention constantly. Then she'll
put on some helpless act and get guys to hold a door for her, or help
her to stand. Like I told you, she's shameless."
I felt my burning cheeks would set my long wavy tresses on
fire at any moment, but Kelly continued relentlessly.
"The last time we were out I went to the bathroom and when I
returned this incredible hunk was sitting with her. She was flirting
madly and he was hooked like a trout. That stud would have had her
right there on the barstool if I hadn't come back."
"Ooh, tell me more, what happened next?" cooed Billie Jo.
"Her stud bought us dinner. Of course, I was just window
dressing. He probably only noticed I was there when he realized there
were three meals on the check."
By this time Billie Jo was rocking with mirth, trying to
contain her helpless laughter. Tears were filling her eyes and I was
sure she only kept them in check because of the damage they would do
to her makeup. I looked daggers at Kelly, who preened invincibly,
knowing there was just enough truth in her tall tale to make denial
too complicated to be practical. Then she dropped the bomb she had
obviously been leading up to.
"By the way, Brandy, did I tell you he called the other day?"
"No! He didn't either! When?" I gasped, not sure whether to
want her to be telling the truth or lying outrageously.
"Yep," she smirked. "It was a couple of nights ago. He was
barely able to contain his disappointment at not finding you home.
Apparently, he was going out of town for a few weeks and wouldn't be
able to get back with you. He wanted to be sure you knew it wasn't
due to lack of interest."
My head had come up at her incredible tale, sending additional
waves flowing through my lustrous mane. This prompted Kelly to poke
Billie Jo in the ribs and point, first at me, then at the interested
glances of an obviously married man at the next table. Billie Jo was
reduced to shaking quivers as she tried to hold in her laughter.
All through our dinner Kelly embellished on her tale of Dart
Tanyon and the parking valet. I countered with a description of the
crowd of rescuers Kelly had attracted in her tight leather mini-dress
and high boots. Together, we sounded like a pair guilty of inciting
to riot and if it wasn't entirely true, there was still enough
validity to it to make us blush or giggle as we alternated our
stories. Somewhere in the rendition the flames of embarrassment
burned away and I started being proud of my effect on men. I resolved
never to make a promise I obviously couldn't keep, but I also resolved
to have fun. If a thing is worth doing, I rationalized, it is worth
doing well.
I had invited Billie Jo along on a lark, mostly to see what
effect Brandy would have on someone who knew Ran. By the time we
finished our meals we had formed a friendship with her that would
endure long beyond an evening's fun. We were still giggling and
teasing as we walked to the car. My towering heels forced me to the
shortest stride and Kelly drifted slowly ahead. Billie Jo held up to
wait for me and as I reached her she whispered, "Let me know when
Kelly reaches her next ten pound goal." The warmth of her smile made
it clear she expected me to be an active participant in that evening's
promised entertainment as well.
