She was confused asto what was happening; her thought processes slow and fuzzy because of thewine she had drunk. She realised a stranger was in her h...ouse and that shewas being pushed down across her own kitchen table but couldn't figure outwhy. For one second she stupidly panicked at the thought that someone hadfound her dressed as a woman; and then a split second later she realisedthat she had a lot more to worry about than the exposure of hertransvestism. She realised she was in serious. But that’s not the point, is it?” she murmured, licking her lips.“I guess not.”We stood for a moment, looking at each other.“What do you want to do?” I asked.“It’s your turn,” she said simply. “But let’s make it quick, before they send a car back for us.”“This isn’t the most comfortable place,” I observed, looking around at the metal and glass. I was reminded of the chill by an involuntary shiver.“No one said art was always comfortable.”“Hmm. What’s in the back?”“Take a look,” she offered,. So of course I accepted. Before I left I shaved my balls so I wouldn't leave pubic hairs in her bed, and I packed some rufee's in my bag. The plan which I executed perfectly was to spike her drink with a rufee. The rufee knocked her out almost instantly. So I set up my video camera next to her bed and laid her on the bed on top of a sheet I also brought. I undressed immediately, my cock already erected. Then I hovered over her and started to kiss her neck. Then I slowly worked my way down. We seemed to get along well and the conversation flowed naturally, always absent any awkward moments. At the Bridge, Ann had to say goodbye so she could get home and get ready for an evening event to which she was committed. I hailed a cab, paid the driver, saw her off, and walked home. We spoke by phone during the week and met again the next Saturday, this time for lunch, followed by another walk along the Charles River. We sat along the river bank and Ann told me the above two stories. She.