There were no c***d seat."Hello! Hello! Are you Ok? Miss....Hello!" I said. She was u*********s. I could see, she was still breathing. Her large...breast moved against the steering wheel. Damn! She was big in all the right spots. I quickly ran around the passenger side. I open the door. She had a big black purse on the passenger seat. I looked down on the ground. Just on top of the floor mat. Was a small baby bottle. It was half full. Some small droplets of breast milk, dripped. Later, I discovered that he was givinghimself hormone therapy by overdosing on his mother's contraceptivepills. He'd worked out that you needed to be a girl to be loved basedon the example he saw next door. Dressed in my panties, socks, dressand plimsolls, with a ribbon in his hair, he could have been a girl inmy class. "You're Frances now," I said, emphasising the diction, "Franor Frannie?"Together, we walked out of the house. He didn't attract the slightestattention - we looked like two girls. More

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