.. it was more the fear of breaking some hidden bond between Bill and I. I felt that our relationship was somehow dependent on being able to say I had never been with any other man since we had met.At any rate I decided to sleep on it and leave any serious pondering until the next day. After I hung up the phone I poured myself a warm bath and settled in for another two-finger tango to satisfy my more urgent needs. I pushed in for some soft music from the hotel switchboard, lit a few complimentary candles that were on a table in the room and slid beneath the bubbles to forget everything for a while. I closed my eyes and thought of Bill and how wonderful he made me feel when he was inside of me, and soon my fingers had found there way to that spot between my thighs. Somehow I couldn't forget Bill's suggestion, and maybe it was the candlelight or the effect of my efforts on myself, but gradually his proposal didn't seem all that strange after all.I mean most women in my shoes may have. After a couple of false starts I got up at 8, washed my face and taking my Swiss Army knife used the scissors to trim my eyebrows. Then I took the tweeters from the Swiss Army knife and plucked my eyebrows, not severely but enough. I felt slightly better and could function again at least for a few days.The next day it was clear there had been a shift in my body image and mind-set but could at least attend lectures and be self-sufficient again. Nobody mentioned the eyebrows but there were a few stares but I did not care. The diet started a few days later as did the early morning runs and gym work. So far I had been coasting but now proper work would be required. Top of the list was learning makeup.I could function OK but mainly on autopilot and only if I did not overthink things. A return visit to Duke’s mound would have to wait; it would be too traumatic at the moment. The landlady/concierge woman caught me the next day. “Nice to see you running in the morning, nice bum, good legs,.
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