‘Sexually?’ His breath hissed out in half a laugh. ‘God, yes. In any way that you’ll let me, Rach! Hell, I’d settle for holding your hand.�... ‘Stephen…’ My eyes prickled but I kept talking, choking a little on a tightening throat. ‘You really want to be with me? Like, romantically?’ I was sniffling then, tears blurring the sight of his wonderful familiar face. ‘If you’re interested,’ he answered stiffly. A sob slipped out of my mouth then as I nodded and I heard rather than saw him step toward. For the five months I stayed with him, I lived in the clothes that he bought for me any time I was in the home. He told me I was a good looker even though, when I looked in the mirror, I felt I looked like a guy trying out dresses for the first time, unconvincingly. We rarely had sex with me dressed in the clothes (excepting the odd blow job) but he loved to undress me and loved to have sex with me wearing one or two pieces of lingerie or any nightdress or nightshirt. He wanted me naked,. More

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