To wonder if I’m wrong now. To feel like I’m permanently trapped between choices.’ She glares. ‘You didn’t tell me it would be this compli...ated. You didn’t tell me it would hurt this much.’ Eventually, in the long silence, her glare subsides. Sadness flows back into her eyes and she returns to the simplicity of her hair. She asks, ‘Is this what it means to be real?’ No answer. More contemplation of her hair. ‘I could take it away. Make you forget him.’ Forget him…. Forget the anger, the. It had a picnic table and bench. I was wearing my normal style short pleated skirt, petticoat, stockings, garter belt, panties, bra, blouse short "bob" cut wig, makeup and of course my signature pink glossed lips. He asked how old I was, I smiled as always and told him and "don't worry mister I will never tell on you" His cock was so hard I could see the outline of it under his pants. He reached and raised my skirt and petti then he let out a long deep sigh seeing my little bump under my black. More

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