It was a man's cock and leading up from the pubes was atrail of hair that made its way up toward my belly button beforepetering out."Oh shit," I whisp...red. "Oh shit me."It wasn't a game of dress up anymore. It wasn't me slipping on a man'sbody for a couple of hours to get some chores done or to have a bit offun and get away from my problems. This was really happening. It wasreally changing me, maybe permanently.I realised then that I hadn't been totally connected to what washappening. I was. Lynn watched as Henry’s eyes caressed her curves. Lynn began to smile. And got an idea. Instead of turning back to the window, she faced Henry and dipped her cloth in the bucket. She stayed there, in full frontal view of her husband, and began to wipe again. Her hand went right, her breasts swung left. Back and forth, a counterpoint of mopping movements. Henry sat on his heels, his hands lifeless, his eyes glued to his wife’s chest. Just how long had he held this fantasy? Lynn smirked to. More

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