44-CONTEMPORARY TV FICTION

"BATTING PRACTICE?" I grinned. Revving the engine, I shifted into drive. "Perhaps there's hope for you, yet!"~

As I drove I worried less about being seen with my feminized friend. There wasn't any "sissy" showing, only a demure femininity.

The ball park was crawling with fans by the time we arrived. Our team was in a pennant fight with Cleveland. The winner of the game would take over first place!

As we headed to our seats, I felt the wanton gaze of thousands of eyes. Something happened I never imagined. The male attention Wayne got was unnerving. Men were looking at me with that, "What's he got," gawk.

"This way, Miss," the young usher stammered, drooling over my buddy's feminized figure. "Watch your step!"

But Wayne was already adhered to my arm for dear life. With my help, he teetered down the narrow stairs atop his ultra high heels.

I whispered, "I thought you were an expert on stilts." "Even the Flying Bonindi's used a net!"

We hadn't made it half way to the first row when a bevy of knock out gorgeous beauties turned to our direction. "Hey, girls!" a tall, buxom blonde squealed. "WENDY'S HERE!'

"Hi, Wendy. You've made it, honey. Who's the HUNK on your arm!" cried the others to my utter confusion and chagrin.

Smiling and waving, he blew them cheery kisses. But once we sat down, I casually leaned over and whispered, "WENDY? Who the heck is WENDY...YOU?"

All the color draining from Wayne's exquisitely made up face said it all. Yet, I didn't let up until it came from his own lips!

Batting his long, darkly mascaraed lashes nervously, he head drooped in blushing. "Okay," he admitted. "I'm Wendy. ..what should they call me now, WAYNE?"

Feeling betrayed, I was about to leave the park. But just then, the buxom blonde stuck her face in mine.

"I'm Jocelyn," she sexily smiled, thrusting her ample breasts into my face. "We're all models with the Olds Agency. Wendy's told us a lot about you, Ron!"

"Has SHE!" I sarcastically spat. "Yes, Wendy and I go back a long way!...Right, WENDY...

BOSOM BUDDY -45

"WATCH IT!" a voice in the crowd cried out. Instinctively shielding my head, I ducked from the errant foul ball. It missed me, but Wayne wasn't so lucky!

Seeing my pal slumped in his seat, doubled over, I cringed. "GAWD! Wayne, are you okay...er...Wendy? Where were

you hit?"

Meanwhile, a crowd had gathered around us. Even the Cleveland player who'd hit the hard line drive rushed over.

"My shoulder!" Wayne moaned, wincing in excruciating pain. "I can't move my arm. . .Oh dear. . .It can't be broken!" My football experience came in handy. Sliding my hand beneath his dress's narrow yoked neckline, I massaged the injured area.

"Does this hurt?" I asked, gently pressing against his inflamed skin. When he shook his head, I sighed with relief. "It's just a bruise!"

"Yo, sweetheart," the strapping ball player called, leaning over the dugout roof. "You okay?"

"I think so..." Wayne airily sighed. As his big brown eyes gazed thankfully into mime, I felt like an even bigger heel! "My friend's here to help!"

Taking the ball off Wayne's skirted lap, player began signing it. "Feel better, sweetheart," he winked, tossing the ball back to me. With a wave and a wink, he trotted back onto the field. "WOW!" I shouted, reading the autograph. "That was Donald Shelf...The league's top power hitter!"

"No kidding!" Wayne sourly smirked, rubbing his injury. "I haven't been up for baseball this season. Ron, be a dear and take me home."

As we got up, the models kissed and hugged Wayne goodbye. At first, I braced him by his good arm, but when he had trouble walking, I lifted his weightless body up and carried him

out.

99

As we drove home, my growing guilt was more than I could bear. "Forgive me, Wayne. I almost gave you away and...' "Relax, Ron," he sighed, his ruby red lips grinning impishly. "It's not a secret...at least not to Jocelyn and the others." "HUH? What do you mean?"

"I swear, you can be SO naive! Couldn't you tell? They're all Rita's other models, her unisex models. . .boys, TOO!"