52TV FICTION CLASSICS

SANDY THOMAS ADV. Evan stuck his chin up in the air and said, "Yes, I'd like to see some lingerie, please."

Sam thought he'd lost his mind or something and didn't know whether to stay with Evan or sneak off.

"Right over here, dear." She moved toward a counter where they had slips and panties and things in little frames sitting around on the glass top. "Now, what is it you need, dear? Panties, or a new slip?"

She was talking to Evan like he was a adult woman. Evan didn't bat an eye. "No, not today. I need a new brassiere."

"A brassiere! A new brassiere!" Sam gasp. Evan sounded like he had about a million old ones at home! Sam assumed that Evan had never owned a brassiere in his entire life. The clerk just looked real sharp at Evan's front and squished up her lips and said, "Well now, what size would that be?"

"A thirty-two, in white lace with padded cups, I think." Evan sounded like he'd been buying bras for years! The clerk laid two or three out on the counter and Evan picked them up and turned them over, and they talked about cups, padding, support and comfort.

Sam about died when the clerk suggested, "Perhaps were should have you fitted?"

"Not this time," Evan said softly, "My friend is in a hurry...maybe next time?"

He finally picked out two, one with a little pink rosebud on the middle part of the front and another strapless one with push-up padding.

While Evan was fishing his money out, the clerk looked at Sam and asked, "What about you, dear? Anything today?"

Sam started to blush and folded his arms across his noticeable chest. "NO! No, ma'am . . . not today, thank you."

Evan got his package and they left meeting his mother by the front of the store. Seeing the bag in Evan's hand and the smile on his face, she giggled and said, "See how easy that was? Now you don't need me to get what you want."

"Mom, you know even though I like the French Braid you've done my hair, I'd like to try something a little different for a change," he asked sheepishly.

"Really?" His mother replied, pleasantly surprised by his innocent interest. "Any idea what would you like to try?"

"Well, I was thinking," he said slowly looking for the right words. "I'd like to see how I'd look with loose curls. ..you know like some of the other girls."

"Oh, like the other girls?" his mother quipped. "I've been thinking how cute you would look with long ringlets down your back!"

She had taught him how to take care of his hair, which had grown rapidly. If he wanted a cluster of ringlets at the back he'd have to learn how to use a curling iron, and how to do his hair in curlers for the night.

And so Paul found himself that evening sitting at his mother's vanity as she lovingly set his long blonde hair in curlers. Because of its length she had to use small sections and a firm setting, semi-permanent perm gel. Each roller was wound vertically to produce the desired spiral ringlets. It took over forty rollers to fully set Paul's hair! Before going to bed he was required to spend an hour under his mother's bonnet hair dryer. Even so, it would need another hour in the morning.

She pointed out to him that with such feminine curls "permed" he would be so feminine and beautiful that he could not just comb it out and be a boy again. With his girlish face and slender body, the additional curls might cause him to be sort of "stuck" as a girl for a while.

Blushing, Paul couldn't deny it. "They're already making fun of me, I might as well have some fun. You should have seen Evan today. He wore stretch pants and a cashmere sweater with short boots. . .I don't think I could pull that off?"

His mother looked at her feminized son and stated, "That's too modern for you. Maybe you'll let me put a bow in your hair like some of the most feminine girls wear. What do you think?"

Paul turned a vivid scarlet. . .blushing at his own excitement. The idea of bows and ribbons sent the pit of Paul's