It just got to me, they opened the front door and just expected me to walk out to the car as if notign was wrong, I ask you. Here I was dressed and made up to look like a woman and they expected me to just act 'normal'? What were they, crazy or what? It was all too much.
With each movement the skirt of the dress brushed against the nylons on my legs, the noise as my heels hit the tiles in the hallway, the long hair sweeping across my fare neck and shoulders, the curve of my breasts on my chest, long red nails, the taste of lipstick, the weight of mascara on my lashes, it was all so unnerving.
This couldn't be happening!
In the doorway I felt everyone in the street was watching me from behind their curtains. The fact that our driveway was tree lined made no difference. Paralysis set in, actually it was more like rigor mortis!
Finally Dave made a constructive suggestion and we entered the garage by the side door.
I got into the car first and sat on the near side of the back seat. My skirts had all bunched up below me and Gloria showed me how to get in properly. Slide your bum in, draw the legs in after and sit in the center of the back seat. It was easier that this way. Putting my seat belt on was awkward as well. The strap had to come between the breasts which felt uncomfortable, so I moved to the center where the belt was a lap style. My heart was pounding. I wanted to go home to be Bill again, who thought of Angelea anyway?