She giggled, still a bit drunk, and started to rise. “Good job, Mr. H. You make sure there’s no trouble,” she said, mockingly stern.She stepped ...oward me, presumably heading for the basement door, when her feet tangled in some shoes on the floor (probably hers) and she stumbled into me, bursting into laughter as I caught her in my arms. I helped her regain her feet and asked if she was okay, as I let her get herself together. I let her take her time, and took a deep breath. I could still smell. "She showed me the face of her mobile phone and there was Cathy's number. Isabelle continued the questioning"How long have you been dressing like a woman?"I decided to tell the truth. "Since I was a little boy. I don't do it often, normally I don't want to. I tried to give up, honest, but every do often, I just feel... like..."Isabelle finished for me. "...like you want to put on our underwear, we know. But tell me this. Why do you dress as a woman if you don't want to fuck men? Don't you ever. More

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