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She had cross dressing confused with infidelity, as if by dating mymirror image I was being intimate with another woman. I argued inturn that it was harmless, for me a source of great joy, nothingmore. Finally she understood that it was a compulsion, delightfulto me if perverse to her, but a deep-rooted, powerful compulsionnevertheless, dating maybe even from a prenatal time of life. Itwas how I was. Finally we agreed that I could keep doing it, sinceI'd keep doing it anyhow, but it should always be in ways andplaces where she'd never know or be reminded. Mostly I'd kept to that arrangement. It was tricky, butpossible, and our happiness depended on it. We have a goodmarriage. We're a little unconventionally matched, maybe, butwonderfully compatible. I do most of my work at home,cost-estimating engineering projects, because home is where I canthink more clearly than anywhere else, juggle all the variables inmy head and watch them land right side up. Then I pipe in. My hungry cock wanted to just violate her by going right to sex. I took my time, kissing her all over. She broke away looking enough to open the top drawer of the dresser. “I need you in me now,” she said, frantically. A condom was pressed into my right hand. I took it, wasting no time getting it on. Heather had positioned herself on the bed, watching as I put on the condom. I climbed on top of her. My cock naturally positioning itself at her entrance. I didn't thrust right in though. I gave her a long make out session first, during which she started to wiggle trying to get my cock inside. I, finally, pushed into Heather. She sighed at the feeling of my cock stretching her. I took my time thrusting into her as we had slow love making. She smiled at me as I stayed going slow. I wanted to enjoy this as we had the entire house to ourselves. Heather knew this as well. I picked up my speed a bit. She started to thrust back into me. I thrust in one final time and came into the condom..
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