A Flash of Lace

My voice had dropped to a whisper. I was confessing to myself.

"Then, of course, the games stopped. We were growing up.

When we were about twelve I'd sneak into your room and just look and touch your clothes, Open your drawers and look at your underwear. I didn't dare touch anything though. Your clothes had lace round the edges now, far prettier but now seemed forbidden, sacred. But I loved to look at them.

I sighed. By the time we were fifteen you were wearing bras and tights. You panties were nylon and frilly. You wore slips and you had some beautiful nighties.

It was too much. I had to try them on – everything. I'd wait till you were all out, then dress in your beautiful clothes. I was always very careful with them. I put them back exactly as I'd found them. So I never got caught.

Then we went to separate universities. I thought it was all over. I dated a couple of girls but it was always a disaster. I could never think of anything to say. They all thought I was gay after a while and left me alone. Then I went to a party, got fairly drunk and landed up in bed with a girl. Problem was, I couldn't do anything about it. Totally... impotent. And that was it.

I can still hear her laughing.

I sighed. So I'm back to wearing women's clothing and pursuing my fantasies.

I could feel her hot tears on the back of my neck. She hadn't stopped stroking my hair all through my confession. My pillow was damp where my own tears had fallen. I fell silent.

And with her warm, protective body pressed against my back we fell asleep - like spoons

I was alone in the bed when I awoke next morning. At first I couldn't think why my eyes felt tight and full of grit. Then it all came flooding back in a guilty rush. The discovery, confession, shame. I sat up quickly looking around. Had she left in disgust? Panicking, I leapt out of bed and reached for my clothes and saw the note on the bedside cabinet.

"Morning sleepyhead. Gone to do some shopping for dinner. Spaghetti Bolognese tonight. Bring some wine home – lots of it. Don't be late. Love you. xxx"