40--CONTEMPORARY TV FICTION

"HOLLY SHOOT!" I choked. Sexily strutting the length of the room, Wayne sashayed his hips with feline seductiveness. "That's RUNWAY MODELING!" Rita Delatore curtly advised. "Even I can hardly believe his marvelous progress in so short a period of time! I never thought he'd get beyond uni-sex modeling!"

Stopping momentarily, Wayne gracefully turned. As he returned to the corner, his limply held wrist flailed rhythmically, while his rounded fanny undulated with genuine female sensuality!

"Hot, eh?" Rachel baited me, "and you ain't seen nothing yet!"

But I couldn't handle anymore! My loosing strength, my knees became rubber and I stumbled into the easy chair.

Under Rita Delatore's watchful gaze, Wayne marched through a modeling routine of sorts. His capped tooth smile flashing brightly, he struck pose after femininely appealing pose.

"That's a wrap!" Rita Delatore cheered. "You were beyond SUPERB, darling. The camera's going to eat you up ALIVE!"

Then, without warning, Wayne's warm, sexy smile abruptly faded. "May I be excused," he peeped. "I don't feel too well.

"Certainly, dear," Rita Delatore replied. "Besides, you're not planning on, dessert anyway. Gotta keep your GIRLISH figure!"

Wayne's doe-like eyes widened, sparkling thankfully. Not wasting a moment, he swiftly scampered from the den.

"Don't leave now, Ron," Rita Delatore smugly smirked as I got out of the easy chair. "The evening's young and..."

More than anything, I wanted to give that bitch a piece of my mind. But out of respect for Mrs. Carr, I held my tongue.

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Wayne had learned his girlish lessons well.

BOSOM BUDDY -41

Following Wayne, I was glad to be away from the den and Rita Delatore's awful stench! But finding his "girlish" room door shut, I still heard his muffled sobbing loud and clear.

"You okay?" I asked, tapping on the slightly ajar door.

"It's open," he sniffled.

Seeing his lithe body twisted atop his canopied bed made me wish I had never come. "Gosh, Wayne, I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," he whimpered. "I'm fine until I see you and all the memories come back. I got myself into this mess but I need you to keep me sane in this madhouse!"

Feeling his hurt, I tried comforting him. Sitting down beside him, I gently put my meaty hand on his delicately rounded shoulder.

But as caressed him, his drenched eyes gazed at me in wanton desperation. Unnerved, I abruptly withdrew my hand.

33

"Don't stop," he begged, blotting the runny mascara from his hairless cheeks. "It feels SO nice. . .I need a friend. Shaking my head, I ran my fingers the length of his frail arm. "There's not much of Wayne Carr left!"

"Perhaps you're right," he tragically admitted.

The stress of his confession cut into my heart like a jagged knife. Drawing him close, I dearly hugged his fragile feminized body.

"I swear, Wayne, I WON'T abandon you. When this craziness's over, I'll get you back into shape. You'll be manlier than ever!"