Especially since now and then we invited the boys…But my surgery had been different. Descending down from each nipple was a light scar, a noticeable...line that went to the bottom of my bust. I took a deep breath, knowing it would never get easier, and pulled off my dress. They started hooting, like good friends should.“Oh wow! Those are wonderful.”“Just like new.”Then Kinsey spoke, sensing my insecurity.“I kind of like the scar,” Kinsey said. “I know you’re self-conscious, but it doesn’t look. My penis juts out just above the top of my clitoral hood. So depending on the stimulation I can come as a man OR a woman. Or both. Lucky me.Anyway, I’d really dolled myself up for this evening. I had on a nice white lacy blouse, a black pencil skirt with high heels, pearls and patterned stockings. My glasses give me a school-girl/bookworm/librarian look that drives both men and women nuts. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve used it to get what I want at times. Depending on my mood I can go out as a guy. She screamed as her world toppled.She slammed down hard onto the slanted table, the cuffs digging into thesmall of her back. Her breath exploded out of her and she sucked air back intoher lungs. His footsteps sounded loudly in the room as he walked to the sideof table and tilted her to her side. She felt the metallic embrace of the cuffsreleasing one tender wrist and then her hands were drawn upward by his strength.Her arms were stretched outward, drawn so far up she thought they would popfrom. This was Sunday, his day of rest, her day of preaching. He cooked breakfast for the two of them before taking his own bath. He was out and half-dressed by the time Jen came for her goodbye kiss. She walked to the church, no great distance, while he finished dressing. Before service, he drove over. They’d need his car afterward.He was in church -- on the right side, four rows back -- a few minutes before the service started. Jen’s sermon was fine, sounding a little better than it had on his.
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