Moving from the booth he caught his reflection in the office doors glass windows. Shit – I look like some fag carrying a purse. He had to figure out...a way to lose the damn thing. He walked at a brisk pace down the stairs. Looking at the glass doors, he couldn’t even see across the street.A thick fog hung over the streets like a blanket of white. He locked the door behind him and began to walk toward home. A pair of large dark eyes watched him – hungry, lustful eyes. Softly she moved from the. It alwaysmade me feel worse when I looked more feminine than other women who Iwas with, which was increasingly the case. I caught my reflection inthe window as I stood there, a short, extremely busty blonde woman withobviously fake lips, my arms folded under my breasts as I tried torelieve some of their weight, my cigarette held delicately betweenfingers topped with ridiculously long red nails. I couldn't have lookedmore feminine if I tried, a fact made even more stark by the bright redlipstick. More

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