Cross Dressing Read Online Free PDF

the trash can and retrieved the documents. “More Is More.” His eyes twinkled. “Why the hell didn’t I think of that?”

2
    I T WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT AND SISTER PEG WAS CREEPING down Sepulveda Boulevard looking for a hooker. She drove slowly for a couple of reasons. First, she wanted to get a good look at the girls who were working that night. Second, she didn’t trust the brakes on Bertha, the twenty-six-year-old Chevy Suburban that was the Care Center’s sole mode of transportation. Every time she touched the brakes, Bertha made a nasty grinding noise that sounded like money going down the drain—money she didn’t have.
    Sister Peg eased through the intersection at Nordoff and continued down the boulevard, her eyes scanning the corners and the sidewalks. Several of the working girls recognized the old beater and waved to the nun behind the wheel. Hers was a familiar face, since she had cruised the boulevard for years. Sometimes she stopped for these girls, but not tonight. Sister Peg was looking for one particular girl, but so far she was nowhere in sight.
    As Sister Peg approached Parthenia Street, she caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. She’d been up since five-thirty that morning. She made breakfast, did several loads of laundry, cleaned some bedpans, then spent an hour on hold waiting for a federal bureaucrat who eventually told her the Care Center didn’t qualify for the program they administered. Then she made lunch, served it, cleaned the kitchen, andstarted the entire process over again, finally turning out the last light around eleven. It was her usual routine, and for the past several years she had managed to maintain the schedule without taking on the appearance of the walking dead. But after her meeting with Mr. Sturholm earlier in the week, the pressure showed. She touched the lines by her eyes and wondered how long they’d been there.
I used to be prettier than this
, she thought. She kept cruising.
    Finally, just past Roscoe Boulevard, Sister Peg saw who she was looking for. Josie was tall, thin, and had long straight lemon blond hair. She wore a shiny black and purple Lycra getup that was cut low in the front to reveal the ample, yet firm, goodies. Josie was perched high atop a pair of glittering four-inch platforms. The soles flared at the bottom and provided extra stability when she did a job standing. The clingy outfit said as much about Josie’s profession as Sister Peg’s habit said about hers.
    Sister Peg tapped on the grinding brakes and lurched to the curb. Josie skittered over on her platforms, leaned in the passenger window, and licked her lips. “Hi, girlfriend,” she said.
“Voulez, voulez, voulez vous.”
Josie thought the French sounded sexy.
    “Are you working?” Sister Peg asked.
    “Ain’t going to church dressed like this,” Josie said. “Whacha looking for?”
    “The usual.” Sister Peg looked around to see if anyone was watching them.
    “You really like that, huh?”
    Sister Peg nodded. “I’ve got a one-track mind,” she confessed.
    “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Josie wiggled her shoulders and looked up the sidewalk, stretching her long back. Josie played this same coy game every time the nun came calling. And every time, the nun played back.
    A moment passed before Sister Peg spoke again. “So, are you getting in or what?”
    Josie rolled her eyes and cocked her head to one side. “Okay. But just for a minute. We gotta make it fast.” She opened the door and slid onto the ragged seat patched with duct tape.
    “You look great,” Sister Peg said. She reached over to feel the stretchy purple fabric on Josie’s leg. “That’s nice, shows off your features.”
    Josie waggled her head. “Use your knack, darlin’, that’s the rule.” She looked at Sister Peg. “You lookin’ tired. You sure you can stay awake for this?”
    Sister Peg smiled wearily. “Try me.”
    Josie sighed. “Okay with me, Sister. Let’s do