I would leave today, and then she would find what I had done to her blankets. I knew I should do something about it, but in my post-orgasmic daze I wa... too satiated to move. I also didn't think, being so young and horny, that my rustling of the old squeaky metal bed would have been loud enough to wake anyone...and alert them to what I was doing.When the door opened, my eyes were still closed, and I opened them quickly, to see Annie waiting there in one of her little white dresses, holding a. Christine gave me breast forms. A C-cup, she told me. She bought me ablonde wig. She told me how pretty I was, how nice I smelled, how soft Ifelt. She told me I was pretty. She fussed with my hair, with my nails,with my eyes.Maybe there is a part of all of us who would like this. In othercultures, men long to dress as women. It doesn't matter if they wearrobes, they want the colors, the fabric, the cut, the look. It's a fact.Women's clothes feel better. And maybe it was part of me.Looking back,. More

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