While we cleaned up from lunch, Kathy suggested we catch a movie in town. She'd noticed a real thriller had a 2 PM showing. Sally loved the idea saying she'd had enough sun for a while anyway and wanted to do some shopping at the mall afterwards.
They literally dragged me along waylaying my protests with "nonsense you look perfect," and, "it's too late to change or we'll miss the beginning and besides I prefer the way you look right now."
What could I do? My "I'm a man!" and "This isn't what I usually wear to the movies." fell on deaf ears.
We sat three across in Sally's plush Continental with me compressed between them like a sardine. Anyone looking in would have seen three straining blouses in a row. Mine was all air and rubber but that was definitely not obvious. There were also three sets of nylon covered thighs projecting from short skirts. Again, all were shaved and there was no differences visible. I think it was the fear that withheld the skirt in the middle from having an extra lump in it, but to my chagrin the car seemed full of femininity