I could let you have it for a couple ofpounds. My first thought was "Oh, that will be useful!". Then Irealised that I had been addressed as a female by a woman in a shop. Ifelt a little tingle of excitement in the end of my cock. In that malepart of me hidden under my skirt and enclosed in soft feminineunderwear. It was at the same time both erotic (to have my malenessdenied) and reassuring (to know that I didn't look a freak).As we walked back home, Ann squeezed my arm and nodded at the case I aspulling behind me. "It looks like you're going on a journey," shelaughed. And I reflected that I was indeed on a journey, with a casefull of women's clothes. And although I had surprisingly rapidly gotused to what I was wearing, I suddenly became hyper-aware of myclothes. The unfamiliar mix of restraint and freedom; the firm,insistent grip of my bra and suspender-belt; the pull of suspenders onstockings with every step I took; the soft, gentle support of the silkyknickers enclosing my cock. I tried to figure out which couples might really be together and which were escorts or mistresses. After dinner we went into the lounge and had a couple of drinks. Deanne looked around at all the French women and said, ‘Now you can see why Max wasn’t coming alone.’ She had a good point, there were quite a few unattached beautiful women. I really had to wonder if I might hook up with one of them in the next couple of days. I knew it wouldn’t be tonight because I was quite tired from the flight over after a busy day of work. We headed to our rooms. I figured I’d get a good night’s sleep but I wasn’t sure about Max and Deanne. I figured they would get a little less sleep than me. It was Paris, after all. The phone rang the next morning. It was Ray and he asked if the accommodations were satisfactory. I told him they were and he said he would be by in an hour to pick us up to take us to the office. After I hung up I rang Max’s room and passed on the information. We met downstairs and.
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