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"  To hear the author read this story,  click here . Special thanks to the Weekend America radio show, which originally aired this recording. The game was simple. The men were to leave the room while their wives blotted their freshly lipsticked mouths on party napkins. When the husbands returned, each was supposed to identify the napkins lip print belonging to his wife. Stenson was sure he&amp;#039;d have no trouble picking out Maggie&amp;#039;s small perfectly formed mouth. She often hid an imprint of her lips somewhere in his luggage when he traveled, and he&amp;#039;d keep that Kleenex kiss next to his bed in his hotel. There--the lips on napkin #3. Those had to be Maggie&amp;#039;s--the &amp;#039;O,&amp;#039; the philtrum dip, the crease in the lower lip, the slightly fuller upper. But in the interest of keeping the game going, Stenson pretended he was having trouble deciding, just like every other husband who, amid the general drunken hilarity, was looking studiously from napkin to lips.  Then Hoaglaud changed the rules. The women were lined up behind the sofa, and first he kissed Alison McGowan. Then Holly Garner, longer and harder. Maggie was next, but Hoaglaud didn&amp;#039;t kiss her. Instead he slowly inserted his finger between her pursed lips. She didn&amp;#039;t bite him, as Stenson hoped. She took his finger, to the knuckle, mmming all the while. Everyone laughed but Stenson who, in a sudden rage to stop the game, shouted &amp;quot;Here--#4! That&amp;#039;s Maggie&amp;#039;s!&amp;quot; purposely choosing the lopsided wide mouth that couldn&amp;#039;t be Maggie&amp;#039;s.  Maggie whooped &amp;quot;I knew it! I knew you&amp;#039;d find mine!&amp;quot; "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.esquire.com/entertainment/books/a2321/esq0207watson/>