On my next visit, I went to his queue as usual, and as we chatted he quietly asked if I was gay.. My cheeks turned scarlet and I stammered "n...n...n..no," He smiled, and apologised for asking.. As he scanned the next few items, I brushed my hand against his,and said with A smile "but I am bi"I'm never normally wrong, he said, would you like to meet up for a drink sometime? I blushed again, asked for a pen and wrote my number down...and signed it off with two kisses...how gay had I already become?He phoned about two hours later, on his lunch break, and told me to pick him up at 7:30 at a local parade of shops, and that I had to wear some of the panties and stockings I had been buying. I showered, and dressed in some pretty pale pink panties, and black holdups. I wore a shirt, a pair of jeans and lofas with no socks ( you could see my stockinged feet) my heart was racing as I drove to meet him, and I almost bottled out, but my erect cock kept me focusedHe was wearing a black tee shirt. We made our way to the kitchen where most parties congregate. Family over there. Younger friends here in the kitchen. My wife and I liked Ann and [husband] a lot and we had fun drinking and talking. Two or three more wines and beers in, I asked Ann if she wanted a refill and she said sure as she—deliberately pulled her shirt out and down, an adjustment. No doubt it was for my benefit as her tit was in full view again, nipple even harder than before. I was in a fog. I gave Ann her refill and she thanked me with an even-more-knowing smirk than before. Was I busted for perving? Or was she flirting? I wouldn't find out until recently. I saw Ann's [husband] pull out of the driveway and leave our dead-end street. It was a late Friday afternoon and I figured he was going out for a booze run or takeout pickup. My phone buzzed. It was Ann. "Get over here." We had a few encounters since Covid and each was more intense and thrilling than the last. I made my way out my back door and across our.
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