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CONTEMPORARY TV FICTION

I stared at the details. I was mesmerized. There was just the slighted cleavage showing. Could the bosom be real? I knew about hormones. My mind perplexed at the sacrifice that it would have taken for this man to grow and maintain a womanly bosom.

I gawked as he unexcitingly glared at me. Staring was rude but this man was better looking than any woman I'd ever dated. I wanted to move closer to him but I was afraid, besides I got no visual sign of acceptance.

I just stared and wondered what someone like this would want. Had he accepted his soft, ladylike beauty. . .knowing that men would react.

Had he ever allowed one to touch him. I wanted to slide my hand along this feminine looking leg, up under the skirt to be sure. .only then would I be sure of what I was seeing.

I tried understand what being male and being so thoroughly feminine would do to this man. He had to know what his feminine image did to men, didn't he?

I studied his made up face. Could I know him? He looked familiar but no man I knew would ever be caught dead dressed up like this.

I still wanted slide my hand up under his skirt. I just knew he had on the most girlish

JEFF'S HUMILIATION

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of dainty lingerie. . .the sexy kind my wife refused to wear since she found cotton.

I suddenly had the urge to move over closer and yell, "What if your father could see you now...all sissified up with your hair curled, fingers painted pink and wearing things meant for girls!"

But I didn't yell...I still just stared.

He delicately arranged a soft curl that was hanging around his neck and looked up to see if I was watching. Embarrassed, I quickly looked away...for a second.

I realized that he knew what I was thinking. He knew, that I knew, that he was not really a glamorous woman but a feminized male.

Instead of apprehension, his shoulders went back, accenting his feminine charms and his dainty, pink-tipped fingers adjusted the hem of his skirt downward prissily. His eyes showed that he was very pleased with himself.

That was enough for me. . .I turned away from the mirror.