She remained silent for a while making no attempt to divert my gaze. Finally, she spoke softly.“Come and sit down. Can I get you a cup of tea or som...thing? I’ve just opened some wine if you want a glass…”I sat down on a wooden garden chair and she handed me a glass of cold white wine without waiting for my reply. My cock was already straining against my jeans.“You can take those off if you want – you always used to run around here naked like the rest of us. It’s much more comfortable.”I. I was fascinated by reading posts from a secret sub-culture of men with varying degrees of gay curiosity or action.I also read about guys who liked to cross dress or be sissies (especially on Tumblr where sissification was rampant). And although I liked seeing a woman in nylons, and liked the feel of them on her legs, I wasn't interested in cross dressing or drag queens (although I'd be lying if I tried to tell you a shemale wasn't pretty fucking hot... someone who was feminine in looks, shape. More

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