Transvestia

As he looked at her he sensed rather than saw the cold hard look on her face and thought to him- self, this is no demure young teen-ager, but a woman of the world, despite her youth. He had often seen a similar look on the faces of the women living in the mean dirty streets of London's East End.

He answered her curtly, "I like to swim each day if possible, and I feel like one just now. I am going behind those bushes to change and I'm afraid you will just have to wait until I have finished."

Without waiting for a reply he picked up his trunks and towel from the parcel shelf, stepped out of the car and slammed the door. It took only a few moments to slip off his clothes and don his trunks and in less than a minute was back at the car to put his clothes on the drivers seat.

His companion ignored him completely, she was studying his book of road maps and did not look up as he turned, slithered down the bank and plunged into the river. Like all mountain streams the water was icy cold, but proud of his ability as a swimmer Jim struck out with a powerful crawl, the dust and grime of driving disappeared like magic and the cool exhilarating water caressed his skin with the touch of silk. Jim swam briskly to and fro for several minutes and then floated idly on the surface, glanc- ing towards the car he saw the girl was in the drivers seat, she had waited until he was in the middle of the river and now she was trying to start his car. Half a dozen strong quick strokes brought him to the bank and leaping from the water he pushed upwards through the bushes. He must get there before she got the motor going, but the branches which a few minutes before had offered friendly concealment now seemed to be the bars of a cage. Oblivious to the thorns and nettles which tore and stung his skin, he pushed upwards, a stout branch raked his side, caught his trunks and with a rip they were gone, naked now, he had got to stop her.

(21)