E is for Erica

"Thanks so much, Ben, just sometimes it's nice to be a woman instead of a drag queen."

And she took my hand and placed it on her thigh!

"I'm sorry, Ben, I'm such a flirt, do you mind?"

This really was fantastic - Erica was steadily and oh-so-erotically sliding my hand, very slowly, along her nylon-covered leg.

"Wow, Erica, oooH my God, ooooooH!!!"

She had just moved her own hand a little, mine was still there moving up and down her thigh almost of its own accord. And hers was - edging up my own thigh, she'd met the evidence, the proof that she was having a very arousing effect on me.

"Oh Ben, I'm so glad..."

And she kissed me again, this time on my left ear, yet again lingering. I could smell her perfume - which made my arousal even more evident. I opened my eyes, and looked past Erica's gorgeous long dark hair. I could see the man behind the bar and a couple of other customers. They were all looking over towards us, grinning lecherously. OK, so they probably all knew, but I guarantee any one of them would willingly have swapped places with me at that moment.

Then, just one iota of common sense began to make its presence felt in my mind.

"Erica, please, I have to ... tomorrow ... I mean ..."

It really was pathetic in a way, I SO wanted to go on but I really hadn't much idea exactly where this was all leading. She sat back, moving away a little. I was disappointed. I know I'd asked for it, to be released in some way from the spell she was casting over me. But I was still disappointed.

"I'm sorry, Ben. I was maybe going too fast, you're just a nice guy, I shouldn't have..."

This time it was her turn to leave the sentence unfinished.

"Don't be sorry, Erica, I mean, you do really look totally fantastic, in any other circumstances things may have been different."

What the hell was I saying. Here I was, in a bar in a strange hotel in a strange town, apologising to a man dressed as a woman for not wanting him. Or rather her. But I did want her. HER!