Dusty count
He had not been thinking about it, that is the key to magic, it has to be spontaneous. Sure he had idly fantasised about her, they all had, he was sure of that. Then when he said something about how dirty it was in the store and made to pull off his nice cardigan and for a tiny awkward moment his shirt had risen over his head and he had, again without a thought, hummed the tune it's getting hot in here... and she had stripped off her blouse too. Fine then, he said as he dropped his slacks. And she said this is just to keep my good clothes good as she dropped down her chiffon skirt. And that was how they did the stock count, him in his boxers and her naked as a newborn, for she was of that age that didn't believe in unders. And he tried not to look at her too much, sternly working until he could control himself no longer and he burst out laughing saying: how am I ever going to tell anyone about this ever, they'll think it just a fantasy. And she said fine then, don't tell anyone. And he looked her fine young figure up and down and said they'll believe me if you teased all the old men like this. And she said: then I'd better not, had I.
The wrong game
