"You mean in your purse? No problem. I will stop by the locker room on my way back up."She grabbed the key from his purse and headed out the door. Don...was a nervous wreck. He managed to walk over to his desk and sat behind it, the click of his heels on the chair/carpet guard causing him more distress. He looked down and his feminized lower half. His smoothly shaven and supple legs, that skirt, the ankle bracelet and those sandals perplexed him. Not to mention his fire engine red toenails. It. He was a nice guy and all—and had a bod that most women gladly would open their legs to—but they weren’t anywhere close . . . although he’d made clear he wanted to and had been wining and dining her to build up to it. She had no idea whether she would go with that buildup. And she certainly had no plans last night to . . . ‘Didn’t lay a hand on you. I like my women to have some memory of what we did. You were half asleep when you came over. You obviously needed the sleep.’ ‘Crisis at work,’ she. More

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