Like a drug addict I knew this was the worse thing that I could do to myself. But I could not help it. I was very much in love with Connie. One night...Linda made an appearance at the home of gay partners that had volunteered to host our get together. Our hostesses greeted her at the door as an old friend. Connie, however, did not move from her seat on the sofa next to me. When Linda spotted us she gave Connie a nod and a small smile, then she seemed to spend a long studying me. Linda seemed to. I brushed those thoughts aside and watched the backs ofthe departing young women, admiring Alison's pert bottom encased in hertight navy jeans, and Brenda's long shapely legs. I loved the way theteenagers were dressed. They both looked fabulous, and so feminine. Ihad always been interested in women's clothing, as far back as I couldremember. By the time I was twelve or thirteen, I had started dressingup in my mother and my big sister's panties, slips, and slinkynightgowns, whenever I found the. More

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