Mike laughed, throwing his head back even further, throwing his high breasts into exqusite relief.

"The one time I came to your house dressed as a boy, they nearly threw me out. They think their little Dolly is too good for ordinary male mortals."

"But they're always so sweet when my friend "Michelle" visits me. They keep wanting me to be more and more like 'that darling girl Michelle'

Dolly had taken Mike's hand in hers, affectionately their identical slave bracelets clashing together.

"First time you've called me 'Michelle' today, dear. I like that, you know. Why is it always 'Mike' when we're together."

"Well Your appearance, even to that whispery contralto of yours, is so enviably deliciously female; 'Mike' is in such poignant contrast. But I have to keep reminding myself you're a boy too, in addition to everything. That's what's so exciting I keep discovering you're really a boy after - all', minute - - by minute, daily."

Impulsively Dolly cupped her friend's face in her hands, knocking off one of his earrings, implanting a warm lingering kiss on his full pouting lips. Mike went limp, turned his eager figure into hers for maximum contact during the long duration of the kiss. The passionate near struggle ended, Mike combing out his slightly disarranged hair into its previous smooth perfection.

"Do love you, Dolly," he whispered, his breasts falling up and down like a country side in earthquake under this crisp cotton top, "But we mustn't . . . in public. You know what a kiss like that does to me!"

Then, "I disarranged that silly wig you wear, Dolly. Your natural hair is so pretty, it's dumb to wear that wig. You'd think I was the one who'd be wearing a wig."

Dolly slipped off the wig completely, tightened the already tightly pinned mass of her own coiled hair, and slipped her wig