..and I could indulge myself inwearing girl's clothes that fit...Carols.Mom dropped me off at Sarah's and took them to the airport after givingme a list of stuff to do such as keep the house clean and water theplants and dog stuff.I gave them about an hour before running up to Carol's room and lookingthrough all her cloths to see what I was going to wear first. She had somany nice things that I was difficult because she, Carol, is a clotheshorse. My plan was to wear a dress for an hour or two every day and thenmaybe, after changing back, go to the mall and hang out for awhile.ONE WEEK LATER.I am standing in front of the full length mirror checking, for about thetenth time, how I looked. I am wearing five pair of panties (Because theygive me the hips and an ass of a girl about twelve years old), a trainingbra with about five or six cotton balls filling the small cups and a cutecotton dress that comes to just below my knees. I am wearing just alittle pink lipstick and a touch of. Rubbing ones genitalia against an upright pole, which is representative of the male penis, and grinding ones buttocks against the real thing, may or may not, be pleasurable the the girl performing the act.The above, if you care to believe it, was written by a fifteen year old girl, I should know, as I am that girl, and my English Master was a man in his fifties.I watched as he read through my wordings, he was fidgeting in a slightly uncomfortable manner, my imagination and the putting together of words in my girlish mind, was sexually arousing him, that was my intention, because sex was foremost on my mind when I put pen to paper, the pen was his penis, the ink, his seed, soon, I would be writing my name in the snow, holding real cocks and spreading the yellow ink with a girlish flourish.I had gone to bed a girl, and awoke as a woman with a deep passion for a man's cock. That was almost three years earlier, four days to be exact, before my first menstrual cycle, my body kicked-in with.
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