I could never go back to being a girl, and would never again experience the same kind of romantic emotions as I’d experienced with my husband. No, m... pal. Tony. I’ve got to stop thinking like that now. I still had all my female clothes forcefully crammed into a bag beside the front door, ready to explode at any moment. Every other minute I would glance over at it and fight the urge to indulge myself in lace and satin. Knowing how much I had loved being a girl, I knew the only way to quit was. 10 years have passed Stan had a great job, my son became 16, and I 32, though I still have a crush on my son, maybe even more than before, he’s such a handsome young man, all the girls in school wanted to date him; I didn’t, I just wanted to fuck him, although I think he has a crush on me since the age of 13, because he always blushes whenever he sees me, and tries to hide his hard on when I wear sexy revealing dresses, or when I come out the bathroom with a towel around me and my blonde hair. More

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