The scene inside was familiar. I had not been inside "The Gilded G****"too often, but I knew it well enough. There were two bars. One near thefront do...r where Edie, who looked more like a Beauty Queen than a DragQueen, was barmaid, and a bar at the back where Emma held court. Emmawas a biological woman of some forty years who looked and acted likethe puppet "Madam" from the comedy act of "Whalen and Madam." Indeed,Whalen had been a regular at another Gay Bar where Emma had onceworked, and had. I found the other heel and ran out of the closet to her dresser, throwing open the drawers. It was mom underwear, all cotton panties and high-waisted bottoms. The sock drawer had socks in it. Shocker, right? But I knew she had more. She wore stockings on her dates. Where were they?Under the bed.The long, low box slid right out and folded open. And inside was a treasure trove. Panties and thongs and bras and stockings and garters. I picked up a pair of bright red thigh highs and my little cock. When we arrived at the ICU we went straight to the nurses' station to ask what was going on. The nurse looked at us with a nurse's standard practiced smile that seemed to get more strained as it became clear who we were. She told us that she'd need to fetch a doctor to explain the latest situation. I glanced over at Jilly and she seemed stressed but in control. I'm an analyst by trade and I don't believe that Jilly picked up on the same cues as I did that things were not good, like the strained. Every little noise made her jump slightly, fearing discovery. She had changed her clothes, replacing the blue sundress she had been wearing with a more dressed-down look. Now she was in a baggy black t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. But underneath, she had put on some of her sexier lingerie—although she suspected that what counted as sexy underwear by her standards wouldn't impress Ian much. Still, though, she made the effort.She waited outside the dorm for what felt like an age, but was in.