She only wears a dressing gown, which is knotted in the middle. Her long red hair falls in waves over her shoulders. Her sporty figure is recognizable...despite the coat, and the coat forms a small cleavage under which her small, plump breasts can be guessed."Wow Ginny, you are so pretty" I say affectionately, running one hand casually through my black disheveled hair.Without another word, Ginny steps forward until she is right in front of me. For a moment we look at each other intensely, she. Either this was the last of the ‘night crew’ or it was the early morning Ritalin crowd. I sighed and plodded to the stairway hoping to find the breakfast tables free of college kids in the throes of an effusive Ecstasy and Viagra marathon to rival the courts of Caligula. Barring that I could use a glass of OJ to set my blood sugar right. Over time I had acquired a minor problem with diabetes that could have been controlled if I had measured my drinking by individual bottles of 101 proof Wild. So used to be directed and guided she allowed it to happen, our tongues still twisting together. She didn't even flinch when her she felt the rope loop closing around her wrists, pullin gher hands together. She actually smiled into our kiss, feeling powerless again, a new wave of heat passing through her body.Ashlee squealed just a bit when I broke away from our kiss finally, tugging the rope tight and streching her arms higher. She smiled up at me and her eyes told the story as she twisted. After a few months of correspondence, we met for lunch. It's funny how well you can get to know someone through her written word. By the time I met her face-to-face, I knew she was not the man her body reflected.We were both married, and both struggling with the pain we would cause in coming out to our spouses. My disclosure was less shocking, as I'd told my spouse on our second date that I had 'gender issues'. At the time, that only amounted to crossdressing.Laura, on the other hand, was from.
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