ransvestia

Fennell longed to lash out at the supercilious smile, just as he had at Corinne when his first wife had tried to pull that stuff.

"Hold on, Eileen," Arnold's voice was very sharp. "It's very easy for you to make silly jokes at Curt's expense, but I won't have it." He had also advanced under the lights. "We need Curt at the moment more then he needs us, and I don't want him walking out after any smart remarks by you." He glared at Eileen, who looked surprised but just shrugged her slim shoulders at him. "Phew," Arnold suddenly turned and looked up at the lights. "Are these lights ever hot!"

"Yes, how do you feel, Mr. Fennell?” asked Rudi, who was watching Curtis very closely.

"I-I'm dying," croaked the cowboy, the itch have changed to burning pins and needles. "I've gotta get ouf of here." As he stood up and wobbled out from under the lights, he heard Eileen Sharples cry of amused laughter.

"Well," she giggled defensively at Arnold. "She talks and walks like a man. It's so ... SO

"

"Stupid," growled Fennell furiously.

"No," she shook her lovely head. "Disappointing," a slight smile flickered yet at her mouth while her eyes glinted.

"It's the body stocking," said Gref, as Curtis Fennell, minus every feminine trapping was relaxing luxuriously in a warm bath in Gref's trailer. "I was afraid it would have that effect under the lights. I think it's pretty obvious that Mr. Fennell can't wear it for the shooting. He won't be able to stand it."

"So why did you put it on him?" Arnold's moon-like expression showed the first traces of irritation Fennell had yet seen. He had accompanied them back but Eileen Sharples had gone off on another errand.

"To get him into women's clothing," said Gref calmly, as Fennell felt a tingling feeling, despite the bathwater. "It's very hard for a

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