Which was why she wanted help - should she tell her poor husband, and if so how the hell would she do so…?The crash of the penny dropping in my head...was like the sound of a fruit machine jackpot dropping at Vegas rather than the clunk of a single penny hitting the floor. Fortunately, my wife of some forty-odd years was out of the house when I read her magazine and couldn’t spot either my stunned expression or my reaction to the ‘Dear Abby’ letter. The truth was that that was where we had lived. "Baby,there are a few things in our relationship that we need to talk about" umm ok what?" Well first of all i want you to know who's in charge"she looked at him shocked "excuse me?" Baby your my bitch got it? you do as i say when i say" i dont think so, its so over" no,its not over" he came over and pushed her to where she was lying down then turned her over "what the hell do you think your doing??"he grabbed the belt "just showing you who the boss is"he brought the belt down hard and she. She wanted to be dominated. I read up on the subject, reviewed my Beauty books and winged it. I remember once, on chat - I was at work, she was at the "common" computers somewhere at the school. I told her to remove her panties while she was at the computer. She asked how in hell she was supposed to do that without attracting attention. I told her - that's your problem. Do it. OK, I went a little overboard, but, I hesitate to remind you... I was horny.So a little while passed and she messaged. He kissed me at the door. I was nervous. I really did not know what hewanted. He told me that when he first saw me in that skirt and top theother day, he thought I was beautiful and he knew that I was the girlfor him. I was red with embarrassment. I never looked at myself as agirl; I was simply a boy who liked dressing as a girl.We spent the rest of the day just talking, sort of feeling each otherout you might say. When he left that day he did not kiss me, we kissedeach other. For the next.
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