I wanted more than anything else to release thepressure in my throbbing maleness. But I daren't touch myself. Alicewould be here before long and she would expect my cock to be ready forher.I prepared a meal for Alice and myself. Each time I opened a cupboarddoor or bent over to reach something from the refrigerator I was remindedof the extra weight on my chest. Now my bra straps were not just touchingmy back and shoulders, they were supporting my new boobies. Somehow thismade me more aware of my other underwear; my suspender-belt gripping mywaist and tugging at my stocking-tops, my silky knickers brushing thecheeks of my bottom, caressing my hairless balls and supporting my erectcock. By now I was used to the sensation of not wearing trousers, but Iwas reminded of the feeling of vulnerability when wearing a skirt. Howcareful I had to be to avoid flashing stocking-tops, or even my knickers.And if I did, I would not be just showing my underwear, but also theunmistakeable outline of. ++++++++++++++++++ Sheila and I had met in a bar about twelve years ago. The guy she’d been with was apparently one of those guys who, when they get a few pints down them, thought he was the king of the world and looked for a scrap. But he picked a fight with the wrong guy, someone quite small who, I suppose he thought, he could handle easily. He might have been half cut, but he wasn’t that stupid. His trouble was, he picked on a guy whose brothers were in the other bar. It might have been very messy if the governor hadn’t been quick off the mark in getting the police to turn up. Anyway, after her date was hauled off to the nick by the local constabulary, I, being the gentleman that I am, and with an eye for the off chance, offered Sheila the benefit of my protection and a lift home. Well, we never actually went straight home. We stopped in another pub for a quiet drink, to calm Sheila’s nerves down a bit. From there we dated steadily for several months until she went off to.
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