Hot Dog

Hot Dog Once, with Bill, I'd gone to the length of rolling the waistband up a couple of times to bring it to mid-thigh. He'd stared at my legs all evening, but when we made out later it was no different than before. I thought it was a sad comment on Bill that Lyn was likely going to appreciate it more than he had and much more likely to take the hint.

Hot Dog Mom dropped me off at the mall a little before seven and I made a bee-line for the ladies room to adjust my dress. I also undid the top three buttons of my blouse, underneath the sweater, too. When I walked up Lyn was standing in front of the store, looking the other way.

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