On one hand, I loved being a woman and theattention everyone gave me, especially Steve. I loved the new clothes andnow loved shopping. I could get use... to this way of life, maybe.But what about my wife? Could she handle me being a woman? How would Ifit into her life?I need to talk about this with someone at the Institute. I think they canhelp me understand what is happening in my brain.I drifted off to take a nap and was dreaming of being with Steve for therest of my life. This was real. This penis was what I had expected from the talk of the pot bank girls at home in Stoke on Trent fifty years ago, snakelike. Slender like him and at least a couple of inches longer than Paul’s, and instead of sticking straight out like Paul’s, Michael’s curved gently upwards from a little patch of curly hair. As I say beautiful. As he walked towards me I thought he was going to use my mouth, but he grabbed the waistband of my jogging bottoms and pulled them and my panties up and off and threw. More

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