... As fashions changed over the years that followed, she'd stopped wearing skirts, that is, until she got her job at the bank. As he looked at her skirt, he wondered what she wore under it. She'd always seemed to assume that men could see the sheer nylons she usually wore, but he never could unless he looked closely or felt them. Her description of Becky's lack of underwear made him long to ask her what she was wearing. She took his hand as they walked to the dance-hall. It was a disco, and the crowd was decent for a Friday afternoon, although mostly somewhat on the young side. The music was mostly unfamiliar, what he recognized was familiar only because he'd heard his children listening to it ...
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