The waist petticoat was again a silky satin match, hepulled it up his legs to his waist, only to discover that it was so shortthat it barely came down...to the bottom of the legs of his knickers. Hegave a little moan, it was meant to be of abject horror, but the soundwas affected by the unstoppable tingling within his sex. Shaking himselfagain he tried to be gruff and rough, but how could he possibly be, as heput on the school uniform skirt and the sheer blouse, the pink of the brashowing. I didn't haveH.I.V.! I wasn't doomed to a horrible death from AIDS! I'd rolled thedice, had unprotected sex with an H.I.V. case, and would live to tellthe tale!I know it must sound callous for me to refer to Ron that way, but one ofthe things I'd developed over the past month was a gallows sense ofhumor, which Ron shared. I'd promised him that I'd let him know if heinfected me, so I punched his number into my car's hands-free on thedrive back home. "Hi Missy," he answered."Good news, baby. . More

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