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I wheeled my carry-on to him where we embraced and kissed after so long a separation. There was, of course, the usual stuff about how was my flight and all that and we got my checked bag and we were soon pulling into his garage with the door closing behind us.It was late-afternoon and, after I got settled and had a quick shower to rinse off the inevitable travel-grime, we came back together in his den and began reminiscing about our youth.Neal and I were never really very close like some siblings. I think if we'd been a little closer in age we might have been closer but five years difference meant that we were often in different schools even. So, we had vastly different friends and interests.We did a lot of catching-up as I helped him prepare supper, a simple bachelor's spread of grilled steak, baked potatoes and a mixed salad which I assembled.It was summer and I had on a simple sundress, rather low-cut as I've always been a bit of a show-off as far as my breasts are concerned. They. I really wanted to kick him into the street and throw his suitcase after him.Then he started crying. He looked positively mortified, vulnerable and pathetic standing there.What do I do?Okay… I was a big girl and so I swallowed down the anger and tried to deal with the situation rationally. It was not as if I didn’t have a few friends that cross-dressed.However, this was a little close to home.I walked around him again. The situation presented some farcical observations as in when I saw the girdle he wore. “You do know of course that you don’t require a garter-belt when you are not wearing stockings.”“I... know Auntie. I… j-j-just wanted to wear it.”His wearing that garter belt without hose jarred my sensibilities. It simply appeared ludicrous to me, which in itself, considering the overall situation, was ludicrous in itself.“You are also wearing it back to front.”I absolutely cannot explain why, but I stood behind him, unhooked and removed the garter belt. Then twirling it slowly in.
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