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As with many of my stories there are a lot of real-life facts contained within. Yes, some of these events really did happen. Reality diverts into fantasy at some point; I leave it to my readers to choose what falls into each category. This is, intentionally, a long story. The situation I have found myself in didn't arise overnight. It took the events of my whole life to finally lead to this moment. To accurately share my present I need to tell you some details of my past. Hillbilly Girl Chapter 1 Life in the mountains of Kentucky is a little different than in other places and my own even more so. They found my father's body in a tent on top of Yancey's Peak when I was only four. He'd died drunk; smothered by his own vomit, and was naked; they never did find the bimbo who'd been there with him though my mom had her ideas. He'd left us alone and broke with no way for my crippled mother to provide for us. I guess I learned to have a good work ethic; food-stamps didn't pay the bills. Even Mrs. Priddy's small son Mark understood that. I worked hard at the part-time jobs I could find. I'd do most anything from mowing yards (tough in the mountains where level ground doesn't exist), to working in the general store to babysitting. Hard work was nothing to me though I was never a large boy; in fact I was always small for my age and mistook occasionally by strangers for a girl because of my long hair. I tried to date but didn't have much luck; I never had enough money to take girls out to eat or to the movies. My one indulgence was sports; though I wasn't very good at most things and really didn't want to play in some. When you go to a high school as small as ours everyone has to participate if we're going to have enough kids to put out a team. Like in football for example; even with my reluctant participation we only had nineteen players my senior year and that's even counting one eight-grader who was kind of big. I'd return kickoffs or punts and did ok; I was pretty fast. I was better at baseball where my weak throwing arm could be hidden at second base and even better at cross country and track where my little legs could easily out pace most competition. I never excelled at anything well enough to draw the attention of any colleges, but I enjoyed it enough to deal with practice schedules in and around school work and jobs. Not that my grades didn't suffer; they did, but I maintained a solid C average. The summer after my senior year my mom passed away. She'd been dying for years so it while it wasn't surprising it was devastating all the same. We didn't own anything that mattered; no house or car, so I managed to get rid of everything in one extended yard sale... everything but a few personal possessions and some clothes. Not all of them my own. When I was small, probably about six or so, though I don't clearly remember my age, I started trying on my mother's clothes that I found in the dirty clothes hamper. I'm not sure why, but it was fun and I did it in secret, somehow knowing I shouldn't let my mother know. Eventually I graduated from panties and panty hose 'fresh' from the hamper to bras and slips borrowed from my mother's drawers. She still had clothes from her younger days when she and my father were newly weds and by the time I was ten or eleven I started trying on her corsets and 'naughty nighties'. By that point masturbation was a big part of my dressing up though my emissions were nearly nonexistent and I loved to imagine that the girls from school were wearing identical underwear as I was at that moment. Somehow it brought me closer to them in my own mind. Not once did I have a fantasy about another boy; I was not interested in being gay. For the most part I was healthy, though I did have one issue come up that really depressed my mom, and also me at first. The doctor explained it all but to a twelve year old it didn't make a lot of sense. My mother was concerned that I was nearly thirteen and had yet to grow any body hair. Also; my voice hadn't changed and remained the same clear tenor it had been when I was little. Mom began to worry about me, normal I suppose because of her own history of health issues, and when she suggested that I go to the doctor for a physical I agreed. I would have done anything to ease her mind. Being in no hurry to grow hair in my armpits I wasn't concerned. I was active and had no doubts about my ability to pass the physical but that's the way life is; imagine my surprise when I failed some blood tests. "It's nothing that means life or death," the doctor explained to us when we returned for my final follow up. "Apparently Mark has a rare disorder known as Hypogonadism, caused by Klinefelter's syndrome. It's a genetic disorder." He had gone on to explain that my testicles hadn't developed correctly and were producing practically no testosterone. "What does that mean?" "First of all, you may be infertile; we can test for that. You can expect your body to continue to soften as you lose muscle and gain fat. What little testosterone your body has produced is dwindling and this situation will only get worse. You've had this issue since before you were born, so you have nothing to feel guilty about. If you don't begin an immediate regimen of testosterone injections and medications your body's feminine characteristics are going to become undeniable. Some of which are already showing though it's possible you haven't noticed." Mom, of course, who didn't entirely trust doctors after years of their failing to properly diagnose her, had a million questions and taxed the doctor's patience I'm sure, none of which I really understood. He finally summed it up for me. "Mark, you may develop breasts. They'll likely remain small, but they may very well be functionally capable of creating milk under the proper circumstances. You would have probably never noticed them, thinking only that they were loose skin or fat but I assure you that they are breasts. Without the testosterone treatments they will develop and they will remain. Your body cannot produce enough testosterone on its own; without these treatments you may lose the ability to get an erection." Embarrassed beyond redemption at hearing the doctor speak of me having erections in front of my mother I pretty much shut my hearing down for the rest of the visit. Mom wheedled a week's sample of the drugs from him and we left. She cried a lot and apologized to me but I still didn't truly understand what she was upset for. My chest didn't look like a girl's no matter what the doctor said. Naturally we couldn't afford the drugs but eventually I grew a little body hair, enough that my mother decided that I had 'outgrown' whatever condition I had and dropped the subject. Of course this new idea increased my dressing up for a while. I liked trying on a bra, pretending that I did have breasts of my own but it was all just a joke. I had nothing on my chest besides the same baby fat I'd always carried there. I just loved the thought of dressing and acting like a girl, not truly being a girl. Those times ended when my mother caught me. I was thirteen at the time and was sitting on the clothes hamper wearing panties and a slip when my mother walked in carrying a load of clean towels. She cried, telling me that she had been suspicious because of her clothes being in disarray but never certain. She blamed herself and wanted to know what she had done to make me do this. I cried too and said that I only did it to see what it felt like and swore never to do it again. She probably wasn't convinced but I did avoid dressing up for nearly two years, though I would often wake up through the night after a wonderful dream of dressing and cry myself back to sleep. Finally I went to a local church that was part of the 'Mountain Mission' where people donated clothing for the poor people of the Appalachians. They arrived dumped in garbage bags and I volunteered to sort through one truck load. They'd been washed before they'd been sent but there was no rhyme or reason to the packing so things had to be separated into appropriate piles for distribution. There I managed to obtain a few pairs of panties and a really nice bra for my personal use. I also took a slip, though it was very boring; made of cloth and with no feminine, lacey touches. These I hid inside an old T.V. tennis game (a Pong knockoff that had never worked) in my closet and so my secret dressing continued. I longed for panty hose and a truly feminine slip, not to mention the dresses I had only barely begun to try but I didn't dare let my mother catch me again. It was enough. It's not like I had a lot of time to indulge myself anyway. I learned to be so careful that my mom never again suspected; at least I don't think so. In all those years of dressing up my mom was the only one to ever catch me until the summer between my junior and senior years. I was sixteen then and was working in the local general store as well as part time at a sewing factory where I was paid to load the cloth remnants into an incinerator three times a week. I also had baseball games twice a week as well as a few practices but all in all I had more free time that summer than any up to then, so naturally I was dressing more. One particular Tuesday I was home alone; a rarity because my mother seldom left home because of her physical ailments. My uncle had taken her into Lexington that day for some medical tests and I knew they'd be gone for hours. I had showered and put on my best panties along with my bra and slip before walking into my mother's room to gaze longingly into her closet. Most of her clothes were utilitarian but some were amazingly nice to someone like me. I would take out the special ones one by one and hold them before me as I gazed into the full-length mirror. It was as far as I dared go but the desires were killing me. I knew that the softest, silkiest slips and panty hose were right there in the room with me and that with only a very minimal effort I could quickly be dressed completely as a woman. It was enough to make me swoon with emotion. I was holding my mother's wedding gown up to my chin when I heard the noise behind me. To be truthful I had heard the noises earlier but had discounted them. We live well off the main road with the nearest neighbor more than a mile away. Our driveway was a dead end and was maintained by the owner of the property primarily to give access to the field his father had cleared behind the old house we now lived in. The only visitors we ever had were my uncle and the farmer who always came on his tractor to work the field. In either case we always heard them coming long before they reached the house. I had no friends to speak of and not even traveling salesmen came back here. I had to ride my bike out to the road just to catch the school bus. When I heard the faint noises of someone in the yard, I just assumed it was a stray dog or the old tom cat that lived in the barn. I never expected anyone and in particular never dreamed that Todd Hammond would be in my yard, much less looking in my mother's bedroom window. I guess I should explain who Todd is. His father Duke owns the farm and house we live on and he's their only son. He and I had gone to school together from kindergarten on up but had never truly been friends. Acquaintances would be more accurate. We nodded and occasionally spoke in passing as minimally as two of the only six boys in our class would need to. It's not that I disliked him, despite his obvious flaws; we just never really 'clicked'. His flaws? Well for one thing he was much bigger than me, standing at least a foot taller than my 5'4''. His thick blonde hair and good looks made him the center of attention for all the girls in my school, leaving me and my black mop almost unnoticed. Where I was slim he was muscular. Where I relied on quickness he relied on power and was the standout on virtually every sports team in our school. He was the school stud and I was the school pansy. Not that he ever bullied me or mistreated me or anything; he didn't need to. He was so overwhelmingly my superior in every way that I was no competition to him. "What the Hell are you doing?" he had chortled, catching me in the act of daydreaming about the wedding dress. The windows were tall and open and the only thing separating us was a window screen. In defense I had spun towards him, holding up the dress to cover my slip but it was too late and we both knew it. My life was over whenever he chose to talk about what he had just seen. Naturally I began to beg for him not to tell anyone, telling him anything I could think of to convince him that I was just 'fooling around' and wasn't really a guy who wore women's clothing. He only laughed and waved away my excuses then walked around the house and came in the back door. Petrified and very nearly wetting myself in fear I had quickly hung the dress back up and rushed to meet him in the kitchen. Standing before him wearing only panties, bra and slip I was prepared to debase myself in any way he demanded to keep him from telling on me. I was ready for any insults he cared to throw at me and was frantically preparing defenses to the 'fag' and 'homo' references he was about to shower me with when he surprised me by asking if he could borrow my old baseball glove. "Excuse me?" I stammered, so shocked I couldn't comprehend what he was saying. "Your old baseball glove, the one with the broken laces?" he had explained, telling me that his sister had left his outside and it had gotten too wet to use in practice later. "I'll re-lace it for you if I can borrow it for a few days." Stunned, my heart barely beating, I led him back to my room still in my feminine 'finery' and there dug my old glove out of a box in my closet. Taking the glove he thanked me and simply turned to leave! I chased after him, begging him again not to tell anyone about me and swearing that I'd never done it before and never would again. Finally he turned back to me as we entered the kitchen and said simply, "Hey, don't worry about it." Then he left the house, climbed on his bike, and rode away. I quickly removed my girl clothes and spent the rest of the day crying in my room. I didn't go to practice that evening and told my mother that I was sick. My life was over and I frantically tried to think my way out of the predicament I was in. There was nothing I could do. Todd knew about my dressing up and soon everyone would. Chapter 2 Two days later we had a baseball game and I had to show up. I avoided Todd and stayed as close to the dugout door as I could. Every time someone laughed I nearly cried, because I knew they were talking about me. I went 0 for 4 and made two errors, easily the worst game of my life. As soon as the game ended I ran for my bike and fled for home; hoping to avoid the beating I would take when the local kids learned that I was a 'panty-wearing sissy'. I knew that no one in my rural town would ever believe that I wore girl's clothing and wasn't gay, and being gay in rural Kentucky was not a safe thing to be. I didn't even get out of the parking lot before I was stopped by Todd's dad in his pickup truck. "Throw your bike in the back," he yelled, being mostly deaf. I knew I couldn't say no without hurting the old man's feelings and did so expecting the worst. I tried to salvage something by climbing into the back with my bike but was ordered into the cab with him and Todd. As I slid in I kept my eyes downcast, answering Mr. Hammond's conversation with minimal replies without ever lifting my eyes from my dirty knees. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and sneaked a look at Todd, expecting to see his look of derision and so suffer again my shame. He wasn't even looking at me; instead staring out the windshield as if considering something. Finally he did look over at me, giving me a little half smile but saying nothing before returning to his contemplation. We left the truck at their house and I rode my bike home without a word from Todd, other than a 'thanks' as he tossed me my now re-laced glove. As far as I know Todd never told anyone. After about two weeks I accepted his silence on the subject as an unspoken promise not to reveal my secret. Another two weeks after I had accepted his promise I was back in panties again and began to feel friendship towards him. Not that I'd ever hated him before, but despite the arrogant confidence he always exuded, I had now seen another side of his character I wouldn't have imagined. He was really a nice guy. Not that we hung around together more; he was still the BMOC and I was as far from it as possible, but he was never impolite to me, not even when football practice began and we were daily naked around one another in the team showers. He never acted self-conscious around me or gave me a second glance, really. Obviously I didn't like guys and didn't look at the others when they were naked but I made a concerted effort not to even glance at anyone or give Todd any hint that I really was gay. Not that I didn't notice certain physical attributes; no guy can shower with others and not occasionally, accidentally, notice the size of their cocks, particularly when mine was so much smaller than everyone else's. Todd's, quite naturally, was easily the largest of all. I've always heard that a large dick gives a guy confidence. Well, if that's true then Todd's confidence was well earned and it's quite understandable why I have none whatsoever. To further embarrass me during these times were the slight protuberances on my chest. No, they weren't really breasts but my nipples were a little larger than the other boys and the only fat on my whole body seemed to concentrate there. I changed my shirt quickly and showered with my back to the others, always 'accidentally' holding my arm or a towel just perfectly to disguise my weirdness. No one ever mentioned anything. I finished out my senior year confident that my crossdressing secret remained my own, and Todd's, and returned to my routine of dressing whenever I could find the time. I still masturbated to thoughts of being with women but did occasionally widen my fantasies to include actually being a girl, though I never included a man in my conscious dreams. I had one or two night-time dreams about me as a woman with another guy, who was sometimes Todd, and these disturbed me greatly; even driving me to a week at a time here and there when I would give up dressing altogether. Eventually, however, I always returned to my panties, my small treasure now slightly augmented by further explorations of the Mountain Mission archives. By the time the school year was closing I knew that mom wouldn't be around much longer. When our meager things had been sold I had reduced my worldly possessions to the contents of four suitcases and an old wardrobe of my grandmother's. Inside two of the suitcases were my clothes. Inside the others were the best of my mother's things. Included in the wardrobe was the wedding dress carefully wrapped in plastic along with her nicest dresses and skirts. Also kept were the breast forms she'd been given after her first round of cancer. Not that she had ever used them; they were still in their package. My longing to try the clothes on was temporarily muted by her death but I still had the presence of mind to keep them because I knew that sooner or later I would be dressing again. But for now, that side of my life was put on hold. I placed my mom's things in storage and left for college once the estate, such as it was, was settled. The timing had been good because I had needed to stay with my uncle for only a week or so before it was time to leave. I didn't have a scholarship and had barely passed the minimum requirements but I had been accepted. Naturally I had to work to support myself as well as pay for the school but I was no stranger to that. I blew into town and had a job at an all-night convenience store before I even moved into the freshman dorm. A weekend job cleaning houses was next and a local fast-food restaurant agreed to schedule me around my classes. I bought a creaky old bike to get me around. I was exhausted and had no time for myself but without sports claiming any of my time I was doing well, even saving some cash for the future. I didn't dress up once that whole year, though I would often lay awake at night fantasizing about it. My old life seemed a distant memory. The only real reminder I had was occasionally seeing Todd around campus. Yes, he had chosen the same school that I had, though he was there on a football scholarship. I went to every game but he only played on special teams. The big Stud quarterback on our little team was the fourth-string safety here as a freshman. I still cheered for him. We only spoke once or twice that whole year; we just moved in different circles. He remained polite and always gave me a smile and a wave when we passed on the quad. I figured that seeing him combined with my lack of opportunity to dress up was what triggered the recurrence of my dreams. They were more intense now; with me always as a woman or at least dressed like one with Todd invariably somewhere around to hold my hand or even kiss me. I was mortified! My thoughts on the purpose of these dreams were wild and varied; either I needed to swear off dressing forever and remove the lure of my mother's things back home in storage or I needed to find a way to dress as often as possible so that I could ease my desires properly while fantasizing about women. In desperation I tried to date any number of women on campus without success. Desperation is not an attractive attribute I am sure, particularly when you are as small and forgettable as me. I even tried to avoid any place where I occasionally passed Todd and tried to change directions if I saw him coming my way; just so he wouldn't smile at me. I didn't want to give those stupid dreams any more fuel. I was not gay! Chapter 3 By the time my freshman year ended I was almost desperate for an opportunity to dress up. I would catch myself walking through a department store, stopping to stare longingly at some feminine garment or another. The knowledge that my personal stash of clothing awaited me back home, in particular that beautiful wedding gown, was almost more than I could bear. I was desperate to feel that soft garment sliding down onto my feminized body, whispering its silken message as it eased down over my slip. But even if I did reclaim my things, a three-hour or more bus ride away, I had nowhere to wear them. The crowded dorm was not an option and once the summer break began I had to be out of there anyway. I needed somewhere to live. The day I moved out of the dorm I moved into an efficiency apartment. Sixty dollars a month with all utilities paid. A virtual castle, I am sure. Cold cement block walls surrounded a tiny second floor rectangle room that was divided by a similar, partial block wall into living room/kitchen, and bedroom/bathroom. Between the kitchen and the tiny bathroom was a closet with a water heater but room enough and more for my few clothes. As soon as I could take off from work I went home, shipped my girly clothes back to my apartment, and gave the wardrobe to my uncle. I never planned on coming back. I was so thrilled to hang my dresses and skirts up in my closet! They were mine! And hanging right there in the closet for all to see! Not that anyone could see them, and no one ever came over, but still the thought gave me a thrill. I admired how they looked and moved them to the front of the closet so I'd see them every time I opened the door. I then took the next couple of days and immersed myself in femininity; staying dressed every second I could when I was home. I finally tried on 'my' wedding dress and it was every bit as glorious as I had imagined. I tried out a fantasy where I was a girl getting married and, not having any other guys around, chose Todd as my fantasy husband. Nothing gay about it, mind you; he was just there to supplement the real fantasy by giving me a reason to wear the dress. Things were going along splendidly as I pretended to march down the isle, but then went horribly wrong as I got carried away in the moment and pretended to kiss my new husband. Every time I dress up I invariably finish by masturbating, though my ejaculations are almost non-existent. That time I almost didn't need to touch myself as I very nearly came when I fantasized about kissing Todd. I was so guilty I nearly tore my dress getting it off and once again cried myself to sleep. I knew that I wasn't gay; I wouldn't allow myself to be gay, so why did I have to be cursed to enjoy dressing like a woman so much? It was natural that dressing would lead me towards that, I assumed, but men kissing men no matter what they were wearing was sick and I simply wouldn't allow it. I did, however, return to dressing the very next day though I was more careful about my fantasies after that. So my summer routine was set. I worked long hours every day at a variety of minimum wage jobs but took Saturday mornings off so I could cruise the local yard sales. If I was home, I dressed up or was asleep and eventually began sleeping while dressed after I bought my first night gown. I bought a single bed, though it was almost too big to fit into my 'bedroom', and then an old couch that was broken through on one end and likewise dominated my TV-less living room. I slowly pieced together enough mismatched dishes and pots and pans to make living possible. I also augmented my feminine wardrobe and bought some wigs at yard sales though I rarely wore them and even bought makeup from the Convenience store I worked at, ringing it up when everyone else was on break. I worked with almost all women there and they liked to take magazines from the rack like Glamour and Cosmo to read on break. They rarely if ever returned them so they'd be there for me to absorb when I took my break. I all but memorized them. Practicing with the makeup became a nightly ritual and I never dressed without my breast forms. All-in-all I was pretty happy, so long as I avoided thoughts of men when I masturbated. When the fall classes started I reenrolled and adjusted my work schedule to compensate. I wasn't making as much money now but I had saved up some and was able to get by. I chose my major; education, and loved the thought of teaching a class of young kids while dressed as a woman. "We love you Miss Priddy," they'd say. It made me very happy in my dreams. Todd came back to school as well, after returning home for the summer. I saw him once as I left the library. He smiled and waved. I walked home smiling like an idiot. I didn't see him again for more than a week, and then not under the best of circumstances. It was a Friday evening and I was freshly showered and dressed in a light pink sleeveless dress as I cleaned my apartment. It was light and airy and perfect for a 'girl' trying to keep cool as she worked. I still didn't work on Saturdays and was preparing for a glorious night of being Megan when there was a knock on my door. No one had ever knocked on my door. Not a neighbor, not even the landlord; I'd been anonymous since day one in my crummy little apartment. After making sure the curtains and blinds were properly in place, all the apartments opened up to the outside, I quietly eased over to my door and look through the peephole, to find who else but Todd standing there. I almost died! He knocked again. This time he called my name. "Mark? You in there? I know you are; your bike is here. I got something for you." I said nothing, trembling in fear at being caught by Todd again. Perhaps I had convinced him that the first time he had caught me in panties was simply an aberration but if he found me here, now, wearing a dress he'd truly know my secret. A secret I never wanted anyone else to know. I kept silent, easing back from the door. He was persistent. "Mark? I have a letter here from your uncle. He asked me to bring it to you but I didn't know where you were living. Took me some time to find you. Mark? Open the door and I'll give it to you." I said nothing, standing still and trying not to breathe. We must have stood that way for five minutes; he waiting for me to open the door, me waiting for my heart to explode. I could only stare at the doorknob that I only then realized was not locked. It seemed like hours before he spoke again. "Ok, I guess you're not home," he announced, though why he would say anything if he believed that I couldn't imagine. "I'll leave the letter here," he said, his voice muffled as he bent over and tried to slip the envelope under the door. Finding that impossible, the gap was too narrow, he mumbled something and then grabbed the doorknob, giving it a quick twist he pushed the door open slightly and flipped the envelope inside where it drifted lazily down to land atop my pink shoes. Almost he pulled the door back closed to leave but belatedly, almost comically, realized what he had seen. Pushing the door back open he followed my pink shoes up until he looked me in the eye. Chapter 4 "Hi, Mark," he said, giving me that familiar grin as he came into my apartment. Bending down he picked up my uncle's letter and handed it to me. "Sorry, I thought you weren't home. Here's a letter from your uncle; he asked me to give it to you." Stammering a 'thanks' I dropped the dust rag I held and shakily took the envelope, fixing my gaze on it as I trembled in fear. He'd caught me again, and this time I knew he wouldn't let it pass without berating me somehow. I couldn't have brought my gaze up to meet his if he'd held a gun. "So how you been?" he asked. "I was surprised to hear that you didn't go home for the summer. Your uncle wanted to write you, but the only address he had was at the dorm, so he asked me to look you up." Taking a step around me he looked over my tiny apartment. From there he could see everything that wasn't in the bathroom, because the closet door was standing open with my dresses on display. My bed was covered with panties and clothes I had intended to try on later and there was little doubt that my feminine wardrobe was much larger than my male one. I knew I was dead. I couldn't say anything. "Nice apartment," he laughed. "Well, not really but at least you have some privacy. I've been accepted to a frat, so I'll be living there now." I still couldn't comment. I'd heard about the frat; all the football players on scholarship joined it after their freshman year. "In some ways, I envy you having your own place. I sure get tired of stepping over people in my own bedroom, and all the parties are ridiculous." I still said nothing, though I did manage to lift my eyes. "Can I borrow your bathroom," he asked, turning to meet my gaze with his own. Were his eyes always so blue? I couldn't remember. "Yes," I stammered, seeing that he was waiting for a response before going. Throwing me his famous half-smile, known back in high school as the 'panty-peeler', he went into my bathroom and shut the door. Belatedly I remembered that the sink was covered in makeup and two pairs of nylons were hanging over the shower curtain. Shaking my head I realized that it didn't matter; there was nothing else he might find that could embarrass me worse. Shortly he left the bathroom and came back to where I still stood, facing the front door and gripping the letter in my little fist; the pink of my fingernails smudging on the paper. I'd been in a hurry and hadn't let them dry properly. He towered over me, looking down on me in all my feminine 'glory'. He didn't even chuckle. "Well I guess I should go," he said, "looks like you're busy cleaning up. Stooping down he picked up my dust rag and handed it to me. "Maybe I'll come by another time." With a smile and a wave he left, pulling the door gently closed behind him. My dreams were incredible that night. I spent all day Saturday awash in guilt over them. Unconsciously I not only continued to remain dressed, but wore my frilliest, sexist clothes. Once I realized what I was doing, I felt even worse, but I didn't change. Chapter 5 I went to the first football game of the season that Sunday and did something that I had never done before. Underneath my regular clothes I wore a pair of panties. I wasn't sure why; I'd always been scared to do it before, but it felt wonderful to be out in public knowing what I was wearing. Todd played a little, no more than a few plays, but I cheered for him just the same. I didn't see him again for two weeks, but it was once again a Friday night when I heard a knock on my door. After seeing him through the peephole I swallowed my fear and just let him in; it was a little late to worry about what he might think of my choice of wardrobe. This night was one of my yard sale specials; a pleated white skirt that hung to my knees and a white blouse that did little to hide the lacey slip I was wearing beneath it. At least the slip concealed my bra, though he had to know I was wearing one the way my B cup 'breasts' were pushing out the fabric of the blouse; my breast forms seeing daily use now. "Hi Todd," I sighed, stepping back to let him in. He flashed me a 'panty peeler' and brushed past. "What's up, Mark?" he asked, flopping onto the 'good' end of my couch. "Not house cleaning again are you?" "No, just relaxing," I said, sweeping my skirt beneath me as I joined him on the couch, consciously sitting as far from him as I could without sliding off into the hole. He wanted something; his silence surely had a price. He'd come back to blackmail me now, I was certain. "You don't look relaxed," he smiled, leaning back and looking very relaxed. "You look like you're not happy to see me." I hesitated before speaking. "Todd you can see what I'm wearing and you know I've been dressing like this for a long time. You know it's not just a passing fad. I appreciate that you've never told on me but it makes me very uncomfortable when you see me like this." "Yeah and you're getting really good at it. You look dead-on like a girl, dude." Cutting my eyes towards him I thank him. "I know you're just being nice Todd; I know I don't really look like a girl. I just want you know that I'm not gay, ok? Laughing he unabashedly met my timid gaze. "Gay or not gay, I don't care. I'm not here to ask you out. You like dressing like a girl, that's fine with me; and you do look good, whatever you want to believe. If I didn't know you, I'd never guess that you're a guy." Breathless and pleased I looked towards the floor and just grinned stupidly. I wanted to thank him because I worked hard at being a girl but I couldn't find the words. The thought that I might be going to pass out flashed through my mind. After a short pause he continued. "I came by to see if you wanted my old TV set. I just got a new one and was going to sell it but then I remembered you didn't have one." I pulled my eyes up from the ground to meet his sparkling blue ones just as he asked, "Are you interested?" Stammering I reminded him that I wasn't gay, causing him to laugh loudly. "No, silly, are you interested in the TV?" he chortled. "Oh," I said, my face glowing with embarrassment. "I suppose, if it works and it's not too expensive," I managed, tearing my eyes from his and lowering them accidentally to pause at his lap, then on to his shoes. Why had I looked at his lap? "Great, I'll go get it. It does work, though the colors are kind of off, but it won't cost you anything." Ignoring my protests over him giving it away for nothing he dropped me another panty-peeler and went out the door. Shortly he returned and easily carried the large, old set in though it was almost too wide to fit through the door. He was amazingly strong, particularly in comparison to me. It had to be from the early seventies if not older but he plugged it up and proved to me that it worked fine. The colors seemed to be primarily blue but since our TV growing up had been a black and white I was enormously pleased to have it. "Are you sure I can't pay you for it?" I gushed, my emotional roller coaster leaving me almost giddy. "Nah, I don't want your money," he laughed. "Just let me come over and hang out some times, so I can get away from that monkey house I live in." "Sure, but, you know I like to dress... like this..." I stammered. "If you let me know when you're coming, I can have on my regular clothes so you won't be uncomfortable." Again he shared a laugh and flashed his cute grin. "Don't change clothes on my account. I think you look great. You dress however you want; I won't mind." Overwhelmed at the thought of someone, anyone, coming around to see me, much less seeing me dressed as a woman, nearly took my breath again. I never thought that it would be possible to have someone accept me as I was, without judging me. Almost, I came very, very close, to throwing my arms around his neck and giving him a hug. I managed to alter my momentum into a squeeze of his arm as I thanked him. Chapter 6 Football season being as hectic as it is Todd didn't come over again for almost three weeks. Two straight away games were followed by an unseasonably cold home game that was played on a Thursday night. I went to the game, naturally, and was able to get a really good seat because the crowd was smaller than normal. Since I was able to wear a coat I treated myself to not only wearing panties but also a bra, though I left my falsies at home. So scared was I that even though I found myself sweating beneath the big coat, I kept it on, petrified that someone would see my bra straps. Todd saw me in the third quarter and waved from the sidelines. I can't remember if we won or not. The very next evening he came to see me. I was just starting supper when he knocked. I was wearing a cute little one-piece outfit that combined a bib overall top with a jean skirt. I was wearing a tight white tee that clearly revealed my lacy bra and the bib pockets hung low while the galluses ran to either side of my breasts giving the illusion that they were bursting out of the top. If Ellie-Mae Clampett wore skirts this is the outfit she'd have worn. I'd just shaved my legs so even if I say so myself; I looked good. I'd spent hours getting ready and knew that I looked damn cute. Todd complemented me right away. "Damn, you're hot hillbilly girl," he said. My hands were clasped behind me as I smiled up at him pushing out my breasts at his admiring gaze. He was really my only friend and to hear him compliment me at the only thing I was any good at made me feel wonderful. He surprised me when he reached out a finger and pushed on my left breast. "Are those real?" he asked. Shocked, I could only shake my head. "No, they're not," I finally replied, vowing in my heart at that moment that I would find a way to make them real and thinking for the first time in years about my genetic disorder. Nodding he gave the same breast a good squeeze. "They sure feel real," he marveled, running a finger over the bump on the very tip. "I mean; that sure feels like a nipple." Hardly able to breath from the emotions running through me I stammered that they were fake breasts and had built-in nipples then tried to change the subject. Obviously I didn't mention that my real nipples were suddenly so hard they almost hurt. My face was red and I was so flustered I blurted out what was supposed to be a joke. "Well you can't just grab one without making the other one jealous," I said, immediately regretting my words. His spontaneous grasping of the one, even though it wasn't really a part of me, had sent a shockwave through my body to that place hidden inside my panties. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, I wasn't gay after all, but my 'joke' now made it sound as if I was asking him to touch me. "Oh, sorry," he laughed, gently give my other breast equal attention. It felt almost as good as the first time. Trembling, I looked up into his eyes as he held my breast, feeling very weak and vulnerable; as well as close to orgasm. Still smiling he finally released his touch and moved to drop onto the couch. I quickly finished the meal, for which he enthusiastically complemented me for my cooking skills. I thanked him of course but how can you ruin a meal of soup and salad? We took our time eating as we caught up on the details of our recent lives and then moved to the couch to watch TV. I sat near the hole as to give him the arm rest but somehow he inadvertently sat closer to me than he meant to and we ended up virtually hip to hip. He apologized and eased away but only a fraction of an inch. I decided to be a good hostess and not complain, but instead leaned back and tried to concentrate on the show. For some reason I couldn't get into it, though Todd sure seemed to enjoy it. During a commercial he looked at me, I just happened to be looking at him at that moment so our eyes met, and thoughtfully he asked, "You know, I feel odd calling you Mark when I come over. You don't look anything like a 'Mark'. Don't you have another name I could use so I don't feel weird?" Concerned, I asked, "I didn't know you felt weird around me. I told you I don't have to dress like this if it makes you uncomfortable." I was suddenly on the verge of panic. Todd was my only friend; I had no one else in the whole world except a seventy-five year old uncle who rarely spoke. If my dressing like a girl made him uncomfortable it was only a matter of time before he drifted away. "Are you crazy? I love how you look," Todd said, giving me a panty peeler. "I've told you that you make one amazingly beautiful woman. I just thought you might have a girl name to go with your girl self. But if you want to just be Mark..." All I heard was that he thinks I'm beautiful. He had to repeat himself before I manage to stammer out my girl-name; one I'd only decided on that week. "Megan... my girl-name is Megan." Smiling again he leaned back, sitting so close that we were touching all along our sides. "Megan it is then. You look like a Megan." Chapter 7 I'd always been a quiet boy and one prone to spats of melancholy. My periodic dressing as a girl would make me happier, though after my orgasm the inevitable guilt would hit me and I'd be even more depressed than ever. After Todd started to call me Megan the guilt seemed to wash away; he accepted me for who I was, at least the part-time me that never left my apartment. For some unknown reason my dreams were particularly intense during that period of my life and always involved Todd kissing me or holding me, even lifting my top to kiss my breasts, but they failed to spark much guilt. I would wake up with his kisses still burning on my lips and reject the guilt; accepting the dreams as simply unconscious reactions to my dressing up and nothing to worry about. I knew that I wasn't gay, after all, and if I had a few dreams... well, I wasn't hurting anyone. I knew that one day I would meet the right girl and my urge to dress would go away so a few dreams now meant nothing. It was also during this time that I began researching a way to enhance my natural breasts in some manner, or to be truthful, I put more serious effort into it. I'd long thought that it would be wonderful to have real breasts but Todd touching me had become a game with us; he'd sneak up behind me in my apartment and reach around to grab them both, then pretend to apologize because he didn't realize that I wasn't a real woman. Sometimes I'd stand there with his arms around me, his hands clamped to my breasts as we laughed and feel my body demanding that I make the breasts real. Nothing that couldn't be reversed, of course; I didn't want to become a woman, just enhance the joy I received from my pastime. Breast enhancement surgery was an option, except for the cost and the fact that everyone involved would know that I was a guy. But it was reversible. I'd learned of several herbal substances that would help but at this time I really looked into the details. The side effects concerned me but the worst seemed to be a slight feminization of the body and loss of body hair. I wasn't too concerned about those, being small and feminine looking even when I didn't dress up. Estrogen seemed promising but I had no ready supply of that, so I went with an herbal concoction of various things and brewed them into a tea that I drank twice a day. It didn't taste great but I learned to tolerate it. It was a few weeks before I noticed anything but over time I became confident that I was slowly on my way to having my own breasts. Wouldn't Todd be surprised when he grabbed a handful of the real things! By the end of the football season Todd and I were spending more time together. He'd come over most nights and we'd study together. I tutored him on grammar and spelling and he'd help me with math. I'm terrible at math. We'd move the TV to the floor and drag my tiny desk, the only place I had to put the TV, over to the couch and we'd scoot up next to one another and hit the books. My grades, never a strong point, suddenly showed improvement and I had to admit to myself that studying had never been so much fun. So long as Todd was there to help me, I'd gladly study all night. It was after completing one such marathon study-fest that Todd broke my couch, or at least made it worse. He'd just put my TV back on the desk and flopped down on the sofa near the end with the hole. He broke straight through, halving the part of the couch that was still capable of being sat on. I fell on him twice trying to pull him out and he took both opportunities to paw at me. We laughed so hard I almost peed myself. He'd always made fun of my couch but I couldn't afford anything better. After that we were almost sitting atop one another when we watched TV. Sometimes one of us would sit on the floor and lean back on the other's legs. That was nice, but I preferred to share because it was so much more comfortable. Todd, being so muscular and wide at the shoulders had to put one arm across the back of the couch to give me room to squeeze in next to him. We discussed his putting it around my shoulders, he was afraid I would be offended, and finally decided that just draping his arm around me wouldn't hurt anything; we were just two good friends watching TV. I had to admit that it was more comfortable; that way I could scoot in real close to him and not have to hang out over the hole. Other than going out drinking with his friends from the frat, Todd was at my apartment whenever I was in those days. I still worked a lot of hours but would rush home to get ready for him as soon as I could. He always gave me an hour or so to prepare and looking extra nice for him became another game for us. My only regret from those days was Todd's drinking. He and his frat buddies were really overdoing it. Friday evenings and most of the day Saturday were ours and Todd usually managed to drop by the other days, but his frat was famous for their parties and he was always willing to partake. He never was drunk around me, though, at least not in those days. He managed to get into some trouble but nothing serious. I got into trouble as well, though it was minor and entirely of my own making. It was a Thursday afternoon. My last class ended at noon so I went to work at the convenience store from one to four so another girl could go to a doctor's appointment. I was supposed to work from seven to close at the restaurant so I hurried home to get ready for Todd's arrival at five. He was bringing takeout and we were going to have a quick meal together before I had to get ready again for work. Knowing that I only had a few moments I didn't get all dolled up but just jumped into the shower, taking care to keep my hair dry, and then threw on a matching set of black panties and bra, with breast forms in place of course though they were starting to get tight now that my teas were having a slight effect. Then I fixed my makeup and pulled on a simple black dress that barely came to mid-thigh before throwing my hair up into a pony tail. Todd liked pony tails and they certainly were easy. Grabbing a pair of black flats I walked into the living room when Todd knocked on the door. Smiling that he was early I threw open the door to reveal myself to only the third person who had ever seen me dressed as a girl. It wasn't Todd; it was my landlord. Mr. Williams was a quiet, elderly man who never seemed to leave his apartment on the first floor. He spoke gently to me when I paid the rent and if he needed to tell me something specific invariably just dropped a note in my mailbox. Now he was staring at me while I was wearing a dress entirely 'too short for company', as my mother might have said. In that instant my sweet old landlord turned into a depraved old pervert as his eyes locked on my legs. "Hello, Miss," he said, dragging out the 'o' in 'hello'. "I didn't realize young Mark had a visitor. Are you his girlfriend?" he asked, stepping into the apartment without being invited. "No," I stammered, involuntarily stepping back as he barged in. "No?" he chuckled, his eyes trailing up to focus on my breasts. "Then why are you in his apartment?" My mind didn't always work particularly well in stressful situations. I searched for some reason why Megan should be found in Mark's apartment when I noticed the remnant of mine and Todd's meal from the night before still scattered across my kitchen table. Picking up the dirty dishes I put them in the sink and turned on the water. "I'm Mark's sister, Megan. He pays me to clean up for him," I lied, adding some dishwashing liquid. As the water ran I picked up a sneaker from the floor and carried it to the closet. "Oh, you don't have a boyfriend?" the pervert said, apparently ignoring my explanation as he came closer with an odd gleam in his old eyes. "Pretty little thing like you ought to have a boyfriend." Again I was scrambling for a response. I was really getting scared. "I didn't say that I don't have a boyfriend," I explain, darting around the landlord to get back into the kitchen to turn off the water. "I said that Mark wasn't my boyfriend." "And who would that be?" he asked, moving to stand between me and the door. I could swear that he was staring right through my dress. What other name could I have thought of in such a stressful situation? "Todd Hammond is my boyfriend," I blurted. "That's right, old timer, she's my girlfriend," Todd said, his powerful frame blocking out the light from the open doorway as he stepped inside. His usual smile was different now; not the panty peeler I so enjoyed but something more feral; more dangerous. Mr. Williams immediately lost his predatory gleam as he dropped a letter on the table and darted from the apartment. "Make sure young Mark gets that," he mumbled as he left. I stood there after he was gone, holding myself and trembling. Todd closed the door and came to me, taking me in his arms and holding me as I cried. "I was so scared," I snuffled after a long while. I felt comforted there in his embrace and held him tight so he wouldn't step back. Not yet. "He's gone, don't worry about him. I'll have a little talk with him when I leave; he won't bother you again," Todd whispered, squeezing me to his thick chest. I stayed there in his embrace until I couldn't pretend to cry anymore and then stepped back, thanking Todd for his timely arrival and his reassurance. Todd didn't say anything, just looked down at me with his panty-peeling smile on full display beneath the most beautiful blue eyes I could ever imagine. That tiny part of my remaining maleness, pushed back between my legs as usual, was rigid from the closeness to Todd and my fears were now a memory as I looked up at him. We stood that way for long minutes as my trembling eased and my body, most of it anyway, lost its tenseness. Looking down as he held me Todd started to chuckle until his spell of maleness finally lost its hold over my feminized self. Punching him lightly on the chest I still didn't step away from the circle of his arms. "What's so funny?" I demand. He still didn't immediately answer. Finally he chuckled, "So I'm your boyfriend?" Chapter 8 So now we had a new joke. Todd would laughingly refer to himself as my boyfriend and I would laugh along, calling him 'sweetie', or 'honey'. My dreams certainly didn't take it with the same humor that we did and in my nightly adventures Todd and I became very intimate. I took solace at the thought that it was, after all, just a harmless joke between friends. The letter brought by the landlord? A notice that my rent was being raised by $10 a month. It was just after this event that I learned of a new research project being started on campus. One of the professors was going to research a new sports drink and wanted to study the effects on long-distance runners. I applied for the job as one of the research subjects and was chosen, provided I passed a physical. I was rarely sick and although I didn't run much now I was good at it before. I didn't think for a moment that the physical would be so thorough. You guessed it; I failed some blood tests. "It's nothing that means life or death," Dr. Phelps explained, almost mimicking the words my childhood doctor back home had used years before. You have a disorder known as Hypogonadism, caused by Klinefelter's syndrome." I had almost forgotten about that. Mom said the doctor was exaggerating the issue and it had never been a problem for me; I didn't want body hair and couldn't care less about a deeper voice, but the news made me think of my mom, which upset me a little. He offered the same testosterone treatments my family doctor had and urged me to start them as soon as possible. I thanked the doctor and told him I'd come back the next week to tell him of my decision but I didn't go back. Starting that evening I doubled my intake of the tea. Chapter 9 Christmas was wonderful even though Todd had to return home. We had a small dinner at my place the evening before he left and exchanged presents. I bought him a nice shirt; it was a soft blue that really set off his eyes. He bought me a bracelet with little silver hearts on it, along with three pairs of nylons, explaining that, "You look too good in nylons and don't wear them often enough." He was already gone home to visit his family when I found the engraving inside the bracelet. "To my girlfriend." Talk about your erotic dreams. I barely slept for days after that; each time my eyes closed I would find myself in Todd's arms, his naked body atop my own; his kisses lighting me on fire. When he next came to see me I met him at the door with a fierce hug and held him close for a long time. When finally I pulled back he asked, "What was that for?" "Can't a girl hug her boyfriend?" I replied. We shared a laugh at our little joke, but my heart was pounding with joy. Chapter 10 In mid January Todd surprised me again. We were snuggled up together watching an old movie on my blurry TV, his left arm around my shoulder as I basked in the warmth of his body. We had a blanket over us as the concrete walls of my apartment were chilly at the best of times. Sometimes I had to remind myself that all of our talk of boyfriend and girlfriend were just a game. I knew I wasn't gay but sometimes I would forget when I hugged him hello or goodbye or when he held me to prevent my falling into the hole in my couch that I really wasn't a girl. It felt good; comfortable, but I knew it was nothing but fantasy. Todd, I knew, was still dating girls and his campus conquests were well known. Still, he always made time for me and our friendship was strong. "Why don't we go to a movie next Friday night?" he asked. "I guess we could," I reply, turning to look up at him. "But you know I'm a stay-at-home type of person." He shifted his weight slightly, accidentally pulling me in a little closer to him. "Well Megan needs a night out; she stays at home too much." Frightened I sat upright, catching his eyes. "No, Todd! You know I can't go out as Megan! What if someone saw me? I'd die!" His smile was as electric as ever. "No one would know you're not a girl. I forget myself sometimes. I don't know how you pass as a guy, anymore," he patted my arm to calm my outbreak. "Look, I understand your feelings and I've put a lot of thought into this. Will you hear me out?" "Yes Todd, I'll listen," I said, leaning my head back down on his arm. I couldn't look him in the eye; there was no way he could talk me into leaving my apartment as Megan. "Thank you. I won't even dwell on your landlord's reaction to you; or how I see you myself. You pass easily as a woman but you won't accept that so I'll skip it." Pleased despite my misgivings, I adored hearing Todd saying that I looked so convincing. "You know the drive-in theater in Greenville?" he asked, not waiting for my answer. It was about twenty miles away and one of the last drive-ins in the state. "They show a double feature that starts after dark. We stay here until the sun goes down. I'll take the bulb out of your outside light and I'll park there by the back stairs. We throw a big coat over you and drive straight there. We get to the drive-in in time for the second feature, park in the back and we never leave the car. No one would ever see you and Megan would get a night out. What do you think?" I carefully explained all the reasons why I couldn't possibly do what he wanted. My arguments were well thought out and rational and I was confident in my ability to sway him. He kept smiling at me and his big blue eyes soon trapped mine and my words trailed off into nothing. At least he helped me pick out my outfit. Things went well, though I thought my heart was going to explode from fear. I wore a dark blue dress that went to mid-calf with a longer woman's coat and a scarf over my head. Todd removed the bulb from the light by my apartment door and we hurried down the concrete steps to the back parking lot that few people ever used. I darted into the car and hunkered down; I never did calm down during the whole ride. Todd laughed at me the whole way. I kept my face averted at the ticket booth and then we were inside and parked well away from the other cars. Despite my fear I felt excited; Megan was finally outside! We got there a little early and watched the end of the first movie. It was a kid's movie and kind of silly. After the intermission, that I spent slumped down in the floorboard, the lights went out again and the main feature came on so I resettled into my seat and tried to relax enough to enjoy the show. It was cold despite the car's heater and Todd noticed that I was shivering so he lifted the armrest to make the front seat into a bench and motioned for me to slide over next to him. I snuggled up to him but felt no warmth through our mutual coats. He must have noticed I was still shivering so he made some adjustments by opening his coat and allowing me to slide inside and he hooked my legs and lifted them up to rest over his knees. Then we took my coat and draped it over us. I was so warm and toasty I immediately began to relax. This was the same position we always watched movies in at home, though I was snuggled up to his right side rather than the left I was used to. I decided that either was okay. Soon I was enjoying the movie, and wrapped my arms around him inside our coat-cocoon and gave him a thank you hug. "You were right, Todd, this is great," I said, smiling up at him. He just smiled back and gave me a good squeeze. I felt so wonderful and relaxed and despite a good movie fell fast asleep; not for long I don't think, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. Something funny happened and Todd chuckled and that's what brought me back to consciousness. I went through a blissful moment where I wasn't sure where I was but absolutely didn't want to move and ruin the ecstasy I was feeling. Slowly my situation returned to me and I knew that my head was pillowed on Todd's chest and my left arm was wrapped around his back. My legs were still draped over his knees and my right hand was wresting on his lap. And that's when I really woke up. My hand had drifted while asleep and now my wrist was resting atop a very firm, very masculine lump rising within Todd's pants. He had an erection, caused by something in the movie no doubt! And I was almost touching it! If my hand had slipped two, maybe three inches more at the most, I would be holding him in my hand. I slipped one eye open and saw the reason for the erection; there was a nude girl's locker room scene showing and all the sluts on the screen were topless. What a terrible movie! I wished Todd would start the car so we could leave right then! This definitely wasn't what I wanted, but I didn't know what to do. If I moved my hand Todd would know that I was awake and might suspect that I had been awake all along and intentionally touched his cock! If I stayed where I was, I would be intentionally touching his dick. Todd wouldn't know, but I would. Unsure and conflicted, I stayed still and kept my breathing steady, hoping that I could just fall back asleep and forget the whole thing but that wasn't going to happen. I was so aware of his erection that it was all I could think of; it felt like it was burning into my wrist. My body reacted to the turmoil and my own little cock was straining to escape its restraints; not from touching Todd's cock, just from the fear and stress. My nipples were hard as well, and trying to chew their way out from beneath my breast forms. Another ten minutes went by as I held perfectly still; trying to ignore the firmness beneath my wrist as I mentally struggled with what I should do next. Todd chose for me. "Damn," he mumbled, suddenly shifting his weight. He then reached beneath his coat and gently moved my hand aside, then shifted again as he adjusted his manhood to a more comfortable angle. Next he retook my limp hand and placed it back on his lap, but this time he put the palm of my hand directly on his dick, groaning as he squeezed my hand so that my fingers squeezed him. "Oh yeah," he sighed, easing his seat back. Petrified I sat very still, cupping and holding his dick as I continued to pretend to be asleep. I was barely breathing, I was so scared. Or maybe it was excitement; but that couldn't be true. "You awake?" Todd whispered. I didn't respond. "Thought you were awake," he mumbled. "Kind of takes the humor out of it," he added. So, placing my hand on his cock had been a joke and he had expected me to jerk it away immediately but I had missed my chance. I should have pretended to wake up then, using his words as an excuse, but I didn't. I continued to feign slumber and left my hand right where it was for the rest of the movie and suffered mixed emotions when the show ended. "Wake up Megan," Todd said, nudging me gently. Reluctantly I released my grip and sat up, blinking sleepily as I helped him readjust his seat for the drive home. We were more than halfway there before I realized that I hadn't slid back over to my seat, but was instead still snuggled up to him. Not wanting to draw attention to my lapse I just stayed there. He'd think I was still sleepy. Darting back up to my apartment was anticlimactic and I was disappointed that my adventure was over. I gave Todd a very enthusiastic hug once we were safe and thanked him for taking me. He just smiled. "We'll do it again soon," he promised, squeezing me back, then 'honking' one breast and then the other. "I can't remember when I've enjoyed a movie more." Leaning back I gave him a playful slap across the chest. "I bet, with all those topless cheerleaders running around," I stated, pretending to scowl up at him. Then I remembered that I was supposed to be asleep during that scene. Todd's smile said it all; he'd just caught me. "Yeah, well. I like girls," he said, dropping me a panty-peeler before one last hug goodnight. I was too embarrassed to say anything. Chapter 11 It was only a few days