Hebreathed deeply and peacefully and it almost seemed a shame to wakesomeone as gorgeous as him up for something as base as fornication.Unsurprisingly...my hand moved on its own accord, gently wrapping itselfaround Marcus' impressively thick shaft. My hand slid up and down in away that I knew from experience felt good. The sleepy haze around my headdisappeared and I became fully aware of what I was doing. I tightened mygrip on the rod in front of me to see if I had control of my own hand. Idid. I tried a bra, and that became an essential part of who Iwanted to be. I didn't understand my desires; only knew how comfortable Ifelt, how happy, when I was wearing women's clothing. Was it anaddiction? A compulsion? I don't know.I guess I didn't have other options in those early years, but it feels alittle shameful now. But what else could I do? I was only being true tomyself.I hit a nuclear crisis point several months ago. For decades I hadn'tconsidered what I'm about to share, but,. More

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