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Chapter 1

"Reed? What the hell are you doing?"

My stomach dropped so hard I thought it was going to fall onto the floor. The voice may have been a horror-filled screech — not that she was screechy! — but I knew who it belonged to, and she was probably the single worst person who could have found me like this.

"Kate!" I almost screamed, my panic rising to match her fury. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing in our apartment?" she snapped back, staring at me with her mouth wide open. "What the hell are you doing with those?"

She pointed at the panties I was wearing — her panties — my erect manhood standing straight out between us. I desperately hoped she hadn't seen me stroking it with another pair of hers. I was wearing black lace but had been thrusting into my favorite silver pair, a shiny satin that felt as delicious as it looked to wear.

I stared back with wide eyes, completely unable to come up with any excuse that would come across as close to reasonable. How could I explain my love of her underwear? I opened my mouth to speak but failed to produce any sound other than a long, choked whine.

" Why are you wearing those? " she demanded.

"I — uh, well, I —" I stammered, beginning to take them off.

As if removing them would make this somehow less humiliating.

"Are you — are you one of those, those," she said, screwing up her face as she spat out the final word. " Crossdressers? "

I stared at the floor, body swamped with shame.

"What the fuck, Reed," she exhaled, dropping onto the bed, sunglasses still perched on the top of her head and car keys in her hand. "I mean, I always had my suspicions."

"I — you what?" I asked, furrowing my brow and widening my eyes.

I sat on the other side of the bed awkwardly, resting my hands across my still-erect cock. Her panties hadn't made it past my knees, and I was still wearing the ratty t-shirt I always wore on laundry day.

"Please," she said flatly, rolling her eyes. "You're the only guy I've ever met who asked me to keep my underwear on while we had sex. And don't think I haven't seen you looking at my panties like — well, like how I just saw you."

I grimaced, my heart thumping out of my chest.

"Look, Kate, I'm really sorry. I was just putting them away and something came over me and —"

"Reed, just shove it, okay?" she sighed, leaning her head back in tired exasperation. "Just… shut up for a second so I can think, okay?"

With difficulty, I managed to keep my mouth closed as I stared at her. She was thinking, alternately staring between me and the remaining folded panties in the laundry basket. I was overwhelmed by anxiety. Part of me knew it would be ridiculous for her to throw away five years of a relationship over something like this. But I knew worse things had happened to people for far less.

"Christ, Reed," she murmured, finally breaking the silence.

"I know it's… a lot," I ventured, reaching one hand out across the bed towards her.

She took it, her touch washing away my worries. This was a good sign. She probably wasn't going to leave if she still wanted to hold my hand.

But I was not prepared for what she said next.

"If you're so interested in wearing panties, we should get you your own."