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I want to be a writer," she smiled. I laughed, shooting Suzanne an evil glare while I did. She shrugged her shoulders.The meal went well; we talked, we laughed. Charlie proved to be a fount of wonderful stories and gossip. I almost forgot that I was sitting next to my blonder, younger twin sister. Almost, but not quite. Every glance down at my food brought me a glance at my cleavage, and I was still not quite used to that. Also, while Rebecca (or Becky, as she wanted me to call her) was aware of who I was, she still kept looking at me funny, her mouth slightly open, always on the verge of asking me a question. Also, of course, I was still attracted to her, and while I was trying as much as possible to behave like a girl, I was also aware of every touch, every look, and, of course, every curve of her body.After the third bottle of wine, I decided to attempt the ladies room. I had been dreading this (even though I had been in there before, albeit unconsciously). I wasn't one hundred. Moe shook his head. One man’s pornography was another man’s art. The room was empty, but recently so. The table still showed remnants of a concluded meal. Moe figured servants would be making their way in to finish the clean up any minute. He had no choice but to take a risk. He slipped into the dining room and rushed to another hallway opposite. The passageway took him towards the front of the house. As he neared a pair of paneled doors, he heard classical music whining from a Victrola. Moe stopped and waited to hear voices chinning politics, dishing dirt, or maybe a few poker game rants. Instead, there was just the music and an occasional soft moan. As Moe inched toward the door, other sounds became clear: grunts, groans, and slapping flesh – the distinct kind of slapping heard only from a four-legged frolic. He peeked into the room and nearly had to sew his jaw back into place. Scenes like this could only be seen at movie houses. And even then, only a movie house opened after.
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