‘No, I left it at home this morning. What about you?’ ‘Batteries dead. I just wondered what time it was.’ They stood in awkward silence for a...while longer, in the pitch black it was impossible to know even where each of them was even stood. Beth was wriggling on her feet, feeling the pressure on her bladder growing ever stronger. She was going to have to go soon. This was so humiliating. She pressed both hands between her legs, squeezing her hand with her thigh muscles, but the dampness in her. I would go and watch there football team from the side lines, I would keep quiet as the wives and girlfriend of the players were there.I would dress (under my man clothes) in satin panties and white hold up stockings . As the match came to an end, I would return home and dress as a sissy schoolgirl.When the match was over, they would make an excuse to their wives and meet up with me.Dressed from head to toe in Satin, silky stockings and by sissy bum lubed up, I would await there knock at my. If you really don’t like it, just stop reading, click away and I will return to my normal style soon enough.I have been asked what made me start writing what are essentially short dirty stories, and in point of fact, I was having difficulty trying to remember myself. But, it came back to me; there was a kind of seminal moment, so to speak. My husband and I had been having a quiet, romaticish night in; I had cooked a better than average meal and we drank a glass or two of better than average vin. I found him in the master bedroom. He was sleeping in the middle OF MY DOWN COMFORTER."Murrowf?" he questioned. Who are you and what are you doing in my house."I live here," I said ... miffed. "Shouldn't you be outside?" Mergurgle?" Are you insane. It's twenty below."How did you get in?" Murggle."He pulled himself up and stretched, kneaded the quilt, looked up and saw I was still there, walked over to the edge and jumped. He head-butted my ankles.I stepped back.This was the reaction he was.
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