Once a month, I get dressed up and go for a drink, merely to see if I still pass as a woman.

But every so often, when the mood strikes, I also look for some action. When that happens, I go all out. I’ll wear my highest heels and my shortest dress, and I always make sure that I wear a matching bra-and-panty set, because even if the guys I pick up don’t notice those little details, I feel more pretty and confident wearing lovely lingerie.

Last month, I decided I needed to get laid. Or, rather, that Emily — my female alter ego — needed to get laid. So, on a Saturday night, after I’d showered and shaved and primped for hours, I donned a slinky red dress and a pair of four-inch platform sandals, put some condoms in my clutch, and headed out to my favorite lounge.

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