Secret Woman
by Georgia (35-L-5)
The girl beside me tugged at a white satin girdle until it covered her round hips, sat on a chair with a plop and covered her long shapely legs with smoky black nylons which made her legs glisten in the early morn- ing light.
Suddenly she bounced up, pulled the satin black slip over her red brassiere and brushed back the blond hair with her hand. The silky slip pressed tightly a- round her thighs, and the fancy lace allowed the slen- der knees, pressed with silk, to show. She wrinkled the smooth black cocktail dress and slipped it over her head, ruffling the long strands of golden hair. It cov- ered her body in folds until she smoothed it against her body. Her graceful actions reminded me of the actress who had played Claire in Genet's The Maids. She was a flirt. She slid her small feet into the brown high heels and smiled at me. I had just returned moments ago from taking my wife to work and already "Georgia" was making her appearance from depths of obscurity and abstraction. Stepping into the high heels, her calves became more curved, more deliberately shaped, and their girlish roundness excited me. Then she dis- appeared.
I again saw her unpowdered face surrounded by bathroom porcelain. Georgia continued to stare at me, laughing, chuckling, dreaming while trimming and penciling her rather heavy eyebrows. She giggled at me as she applied the creme makeup, and her lips be- came full and wet as she stroked deep red lipstick on- to them. I enjoyed her mockery of my masculine thoughts because she was part of me
·
-
as much to me
as my masculine suit laying wrinkled on the floor in the bedroom, but she did not belong to the outside world. She was my creation a creature existing in my reality which faded into a dream when I stepped beyone the door wearing heavy shoes. But this false reality stared at me in the mirror, and I was enjoying
48.