Digging for Home

Frank's hands fell to the woman's flank, where he caressed, rather than groped, savoring the softness of her form, the softness of her very feminine form. His eyes bolted wide. In that instant he realized that he still thought of Charlie as a female, just like he always had; just like he always would. That was what she was; a woman; and no physical anomaly would ever change that.

One mental hurdle cleared, Frank tucked his hands beneath the lower edge of the jersey. Rising, his fingers found both sides of her compressed breasts, petting the soft, distended flesh.

Charlie arched her back away from the man's torso, allowing her bosom to assume a more natural shape. "Yes," she whispered. "Love my titties. Do whatever you want to with them. Whatever you want, I want it too."

Frank's gaze dropped to the bulging Yankee pinstripes that separated him from the treasure within. How much can that shirt have cost? he mused. His lips curled in a salacious grin as he brought his eyes to hers. From inside the jersey, his hands found the garment's central seam.

Charlie's eyes dropped to see the ends of the man's fingers peeking from between the buttons of the uniform. Grasping his intent as he grasped the cloth, she inhaled a single short breath, snapping her head horizontal.

Their eyes met as Frank yanked his hands, sending black buttons flying across the woman's parlor. Charlie pressed her bosom outward, emitting an inadvertent snarl as her passions surged from simmer to boil.

* * * * *


Late the following morning, Frank paced in his study before his main computer monitor. Behind his back, just below the base of his spine, his left palm loosely coupled his right wrist. He reached the end of his three-meter walk and reversed course for the one hundred and fifty-ninth time; not that he was counting.

The screen beside the man showed the day's stock prices as they changed. What did not change was the quantity of any particular commodity owned by Frank. Earlier he had sat, staring at the display; but he had not seen a thing, much less made a purchase or issued an inquiry. After sitting for half an hour, he had risen to pace for an equal amount of time.