one else if they have a tub handy. We just don't sell our souls for a tub, that's all.”

"Let me do your hair up. Shame to ruin my brushing with bath water." And I wrapped a fancily-tied towel turban around his head. The purple and gold towel pulling his tresses from his face revealed some aesthetically pleasing curves and planes I hadn't noticed before -emphasized by his pertly ski-slide nose, his full health-bright lips.

"Toss those old clothes out the door, Pauly, when you bathe. I'll wash and dry them in a jiff, while you're bathing." When his raggedy pants and sweatshirt and broken sandals sailed into the hall, I picked them up and sailed them right out the window, in the general direction of the garbage can. Placed a pair of pink-furry scuffies by the door, and hung there, too, my quilted coachman's robe with its pre-shaped bosom, wide sweeping skirt and delicate lace edging at the cuffs and collar. And waited downstairs, breathing a bit heavily I'm afraid. Adjusted down the lights for a more intimate atmosphere, adjusted the mirrors so he couldn't help seeing himself, and annointed the air with a light spring- flowed cologne.

When I heard the bath-door open I lied up, "Dryer's broke so I couldn't finish your clothes. But I left a robe and slippers for you." Pauly soon was descending the stairs, his quilted skirts swinging gently, his no longer turbaned hair bouncing in great curviness with each step. If I could keep her—I mean him—in an appearance like that I'd not have to worry about my female hormones getting out of line. But I had a growing, different sort of affection for Pauly he was so pretty! And strangely quiet.

He sat on the divan, as I had hoped--he couldn't miss his mirrored reflection. Studied the mirror, adjusted the draping of his robe, fluffed his hair up, said almost to himself, "I know why middle-class girls stay middle class girls. Bubble-bath, then clothes like this! Couldn't resist trying your bubble-oil, Zelda."

"It is a nice feeling, isn't it, Pauly! And really you make the change to a girl so... elegantly."

Nestled in the form-making robe his voice was gentler a slightly throaty contralto.

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