“Do you still have your Birth Certificate with you?” I asked.Her eyes crystalized in front of me.“Because I have mine with me as well,” I said... rolling off the bed and landing on one knee.Her hands were over her mouth, silently waiting for ther next words out of mine.I reached into my back pocket, and produced a ring box from Zale’s:“Dianne ‘Princess Di’ Jackson, will you marry me?” I said producing a combination Aquamarine and Diamond Cable Wrap ring.“When did you have time to buy that?” she. "Because I want my man good and rested tomorrownight, if you know what I mean," she emphasized, grinning devilishly."Uh, yeah. I do," I agreed."Okay then," she said, as if we'd settled things. "I'm going to meetthem in the lobby. They said something about bar hopping. I hope theyaren't planning to stay up all night. But I'll see you tomorrow baby.Can you believe it? We're getting married!! I'm so excited to be yourwife. Aren't you?" I am," I agreed. "You be careful" I added, as if.She. I’m sorry if anyone is offended by that, but this was the early 70’s, and that was the word in use at the time. She babbled on and on about how it was too late now, probably, and I would always be ‘queer’, and it was all her fault, and on and on and, well, you get the picture.All this time, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, and I knew from experience the best thing to do was just let her run down, and then I could try to explain. She finally did just that, and I began to tell her I wasn’t. As I kissed her perfect, full lips, I squeezed her ass, somthing I had never done to a girl. She responded by massaging my tounge with hers. I was in heaven. I took my tounge out of her mouth and stepped back. My eyes went strieght to her small, firm breasts. I started rubbing her tits with my hands. She let out a small moan. She grabbed my hands and pushed them away. Why does she want to stop now?" I was thinking. she lifted her bra up and put my hands back. I rubbed her, now bare, breasts. I.
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