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Trust

Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Shemales, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

said, in a small voice. &#034I'm glad you're back in town, Ginny,&#034 Nancy said, in an oddly constrained voice. &#034I'd like to talk to you about that b*****r of yours.&#034 I couldn't think of anything to say. &#034Okay,&#034 I managed, finally. I heard her let out her breath. &#034Sit tight,&#034 she said. And hung up! I sat, staring at the receiver, for ten minutes before I managed to put it in the cradle. And then I laid my head down on the desk and sobbed (this was at my office. I like scheduling office hours on Friday afternoons; I always get an undisturbed nap that way). I had recovered, more or less, when, astonishment of astonishment, I got a knock on my office door. Could it be Her? No, impossible. More likely to be that one-in-a-million student who wasn't d***k by Friday afternoon. &#034Come in,&#034 I called, and then cleared my throat and repeated it without the quaver. It was her. She didn't look happy, though. She eyed me carefully. Closed the door. &#034Ginny?&#034 she asked, cautiously. Tears sprang to my eyes. &#034N-Nancy, it's *me!* Just... me,&#034 I repeated, and my voice quavered again. She sniffed. &#034I *hate* that cologne. I want to talk to Ginny. Or at least be sure that she's back.&#034 &#034No!&#034 I cried, and tried to squeeze back the tears. She turned, abruptly, for the door. &#034No!&#034 I yelped, &#034Please!&#034 I thought I'd sobbed myself out, but the tears welled up, and I added, &#034Please, Nancy, *don't leave me again!&#034* ... Then covered my face with my hands, and started crying in earnest. I got my breath back when her hand touched my chest. My shirt, to be exact. I swalllowed, hiccuped, and cut myself off. &#034Why aren't you wearing a blouse?&#034 she asked. When I looked up, she added, very softly, &#034Lee, I'm not the one who keeps leaving. Who keeps running away.&#034 I bit my lip and turned my head, until I thought I had enough control to speak. &#034I-I'm t-trying to be m-more masculine. Like J-Jimmy the Freak, and that. So, so you'll want me, as a man.&#034 Silence. I dared a glance at her face. She was shaking her head, slowly, and looking troubled. &#034Lee,&#034 she said, catching my eyes, &#034I thought we'd been through this already. What does an ape like James have that you don't have? Why should I want *him* instead of you?&#034 &#034H-he's a m-m-m-*man!&#034* I said, on a rising sob. Choked off the hysteria again, and managed, &#034Not a f-freak. A p-pervert. Who'd want me?&#034 Silence, again, until I met her eyes. &#034Anyone who likes men in dresses. Like me. Does that make me a pervert, too? Careful how you answer!&#034 I laughed, involuntarily. &#034N-no! B-but sooner or later, you'll get t- tired of, of a sissy.&#034 &#034No. I won't.&#034 Very firmly stated. &#034I love you. Not 'because' anything, but it certainly doesn't hurt that you like making yourself pretty and feminine. I like your feminine side. And there are a lot of advantages to it, too.&#034 &#034What?&#034 ...