That feeling when the woman you brought home last night and shared your bed with, strolls into your
That feeling when the woman you brought home last night and shared your bed with, strolls into your walk-in wardrobe to borrow one of your shirts and finds your drawers filled women’s pantyhose, stockings and carefully folded panties, bras and lingerie, an assortment of sexy stiletto heeled shoes and stylish skirts and blouses - all in your size. She knows you’re not married. She knows you live alone and haven’t had a girl live in with you for over a year. It kind of makes your expkantion of why you keep your legs and body completely smooth and free of hair, even more lame than it did last night. You can’t think of an explanation that sounds even vaguely plausible. You can see it on her face - she’s just slept with an effeminate, crossdressing queer. -- source link