I've always been a sucker for a nice-looking ass.There was the parking garage where she had left her car. She had to be an Islander. It figured. Only an out-of-towner would pay $25 to park in the city for a couple of hours.She seemed to have a problem getting the key into the ignition. Did I dare let her drive as zonked out as she was? "Ma'am, maybe you'd better let me take the wheel. I haven't driven in a couple of years, and my license isn't exactly current, but... " She had leaned over and was kissing me sloppily on the mouth. That damn liquor breath again.Ten minutes later we were in the Midtown Tunnel, heading toward Queens and points east. I had been a little wobbly at first, but her late-model Buick rode steady as a tank."Over there. That'll lead you to the LIE." The what?" The Long Island Expressway. I can tell you haven't been in New York long. Don't worry, you're doing fine. You're a real gentleman, by the way. Not like my ex-husband, that lousy cheating bastard."She had. Now, if I lived in a frat house or a dorm room on campus, I would havepassed it off as a joke. Sort of a reverse panty raid.But as I said, I lived alone, and no one could have snuck into my bedroomovernight.I wondered what to do for a bit, then decided that since going commandoreally wasn't my style, I might as well wear the panties.They felt rather nice, and the soft material almost felt like a caress onmy skin. I tried to ignore the feeling, and finished getting dressed.By the time I got to my first class, I felt pretty close to normal, andafter a couple of days, I was so used to panties the idea of buying men'sunderwear seemed silly.Then, a week after the panties had arrived, more changes happened.My pants became women's pants.Not overly feminine, in fact the only reason I knew they were women's wasbecause they lacked a fly or zipper, and they had no pockets.Lacking any other options, I wore a pair to class, and put on a lightjacket so I had a place to carry my keys and wallet.If.
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