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I nestled against her and closedmy eyes. I must have fallen asleep during the last half of the journey,for my next memory is of Sandy undoing my seatbelt, and persuading me tostand beside the car while she draped my coat over my shoulders. Westopped at the door just long enough for her to use my key in the lockbefore leading me inside.I remember nothing more, until I wakened in the late morning to findmyself lying on the chesterfield, still dressed, and with my coat spreadover me like a blanket. As I stared at myself in the mirror, afterstaggering to the bathroom to relieve my bursting bladder, smudges ofSandy's lipstick still marked my lips and cheek. "What must she think ofme?" I wondered, "a date who falls asleep just when the evening seemedto be building up to something."That day as I read the weekend paper, tidied my apartment, did my weeklywash, and carried out the myriad other chores left over from earlier inthe week, thoughts about Sandy kept me preoccupied. "Yes," I admitted. Alice looked at herself, scanning visually up and down over her feminized lingerie-clad body in the full-length mirror. She was satisfied with how things looked and now only had to put on her glossy patent black leather stiletto-heeled shoes and then the black leather collar that Mistress made her buy in person from a sleazy sex shoppe shortly after they had first met. The collar sported a silver charm dangling from it that read “Sissy Slut”. Every time Alice cinched it around her feminine neck, it put Alice into a very submissive state of mind, especially when she recalled all of the sordid kinky things she had done or that had been done to her while she wore this collar in the past. Alice had already prepared a tall glass with cubed ice filled to the top with sweet Thai tea. She placed this glass on top of a coaster on the coffee table next to the cushioned chair where her Mistress preferred to relax. Alice had also placed, at the foot of the chair, a pair of soft luxurious.
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I am honored that you feel that way about me, but to be honest I can’t understand what you see in me,’ he told me the other day. I let the sounds of the television linger around me, although I can’t make out what’s on the screen because I can’t pay attention to that right now. The first instinct – which is actually the wrong one to follow – tells me that it’s something about me. Maybe he doesn’t see me in a relationship sort of way. I shared that thought with Michael the other day after he expressed himself to me and he just laughed a little and said, ‘No honey, there’s nothing wrong with you. If it weren’t for the situation I’m in right now I would want to be with you. I mean…you’re intelligent, you’re beautiful – inside and out – and you’re my friend. But since I’m about to be divorced and still angry and bitter over that whole thing, I’m just not ready for all of that again.’ I started to cry the same way I’ve been doing all day today. Michael hates to hear or see me cry. I think.

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