Read Online Three Sides of the Coin (Catherine I) by Carole J Lennon - Free Book Online Page A

And they were proud of this!   That woman took a photo of the clerk checking them out."
                  Catherine glowered at the trio.  "That just about qualifies as child abuse.   Mike, go over there and ask them if they just escaped from an Amish farm.   Do you think they are color blind?  Does the store bear any responsibility for letting them walk around in public?  What if someone asks them where they bought those clothes?  Should someone tell corporate that they are taking a public relationship risk?  I need to buy something green.  Do you want to help?"
                  I was temporarily taken aback by this last bit.  "Why, did you see a lime walking around?" I asked swiveling my head around to see what brought about this segue.
                  "No,” she said waving her hand dismissing the trio.  Catherine often rapidly moved from one topic to another with little to explain why.  It was most frustrating when topic two was a continuation of a discussion that was left hanging hours earlier.   Sometimes her mind was two or three statements down the road before I even connected with the proper context.  "Green is the new color this year and I don't have anything like that.  Would you like to advise me?  I am not sure if I can pull off the look.  I hate to spend money without a second pair of eyes on it.  Would you mind?  Do we have time?" 
                  "Sure we have time."  I said and we were off to some women's department.  Banished from her mind were the bad dressers.   She was never malicious in her various tirades.  She was often more baffled then bothered.  "Don't they have friends to advise them?"  or “When they were looking at a rack of clothes, what makes them pull that out?  What makes the manufacturer choose that fabric?  Oh look green and yellow seersucker; let's make some Bermuda shorts out of them.  Perhaps some blind golfer will purchase them."  
                  But all that was behind her now as she was on a new mission, focused on finding something green.   And there were a lot to choose from.   But she quickly computed her way through the racks of clothes.  Not the right size here, a poor sleeve choice here, poor quality over there.  After a fashion she was marching towards the dressing room with me in tow.   At the entrance she looked around for a chair for me to sit in, where I imagined I'd be guarding her purse.  A clerk saw her looking around and said, "It's alright, he can go in the dressing room with you.   We ought to have chairs out here and ESPN on a television.   Believe me; we'd sell a lot more clothes."
                  The next thing stunned me.  "Okay, come on Mike," she shrugged.  So I found myself in a dressing room with her much sooner that I had expected would be possible.  I suppose I should have not have been.   She was always brutally practical.   Since she was trying only blouses and shirts, she would be showing me no more skin than one could see at the swimming pool.  Besides, she knew I was gay, almost one of the gals.   I sat on a bench and she tried on blouse after blouse.   Her bra was a white lacey number and her breasts, from what I could see were soft and symmetrical.  I was careful to keep my eyes on the clothes and my Johnson from getting too excited.  I particularly liked the too small Kelly green number that stretched tight across her bust.  I was concerned about rising to get her a larger size as Mr. Johnson was not being a gentleman and threatened to blow my cover, but I was saved by the clerk who offered to fetch some alternatives.  I was ever so grateful.
      At one point, Catherine unzipped her skirt and slid the shirttails inside it.   I wanted it to be my hands running down her flank and touching her skimpy lace panties.  I love it when a woman matches her underwear, even if it is just for herself.  But all good things