If you haven’t yet read part one, it is HERE: THE JACKET PART 1
We frolicked, we flitted, we flirted, in sequins, silk and feathers. The dud wasn’t such a dud when fitted in my duds. He was a different person. A real delight. He shimmied in and out of anything with a little stretch, exposing his well maintained abs and tighty-whities in between outfit changes.
We guzzled champagne, while I pulled clear zip pouches full of makeup, and glitter out from under my bathroom sink. He had the solemnity of a child as I lined his eyes in kohl, licked a makeup brush, dipped it in silver Mac glitter and dotted it carefully under his eyes. Parliaments dangled; from the corner of his mouth, and from the finger tips of my brush free hand.
“There! Gorgeous,” I said, as I handed him a circular mirror on a metal stand. I was sitting on my knees, facing him, watching him as he looked into it, wondering if he was maybe really, truly seeing himself.
He seemed satisfied, the corners of his pink lipsticked mou…
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