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“I know.” Truth be told, it’s all I can do to keep from<br />
flinging my arms up in front of my chest. But what else can<br />
I do? How am I going to change our loop and encourage<br />
Perry to view me in a whole new light if I wear my same old<br />
clothes?<br />
The night before, on the way to Middletown, Aunt<br />
Marty elaborated on the best way to rev up my sensuality<br />
and arouse the, um, stallion in Perry Gould.<br />
“Always wear silk underpants,” she advised.<br />
I laughed. “That’s what you mean by ‘starting at the<br />
bottom’?”<br />
“Yes. Silk underpants make you feel like you’re harboring<br />
a delicious secret. Which gives you confidence. And<br />
confidence is the true aphrodisiac.”<br />
“Aphro . . . huh?”<br />
“Anything that awakens desire,” she replied.<br />
“Got it.”<br />
Of course, I don’t own any silk underpants. My “lingerie”<br />
drawer is full of white cotton. With pink flowers.<br />
Which are about as sexy as a baked potato. Definitely not<br />
the confidence booster I need to transform my loop with<br />
Perry into something more equine.<br />
The closest I can get to a “delicious secret” is to color a<br />
white bra with a black Sharpie marker. That morning, just<br />
before I got to the bus stop, I unbuttoned the top of my<br />
shirt so Perry could view the brand-new me.<br />
“Is the buttonhole too big?” he asks, his eyes still bugging<br />
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