I painted my nails andtoenails with clear polish that I found in my mother's stuff.I washed my hair and tried to make it look as feminine as possible.... Iprobably should have worn a wig, but I had always resisted that. To methat was a costume, and what I was trying to do was to satisfy whateversubconscious yearnings I had, not dress up. I brushed my hair down atthe front to cover my masculine eyebrows, and down at the sides. It wasa bad hairdo, but it was feminine.I had research makeup, but I. She stepped again to the edge to look down, almost hoping some one would see her.The patio furniture near the french doors to the kitchen caught her eye. So many times she'd sat there, having her morning tea, or a coffee, some times dressed, many times not, and a familiar tingle between her legs caught her attention. She danced her way to the chair, smiling as her mind raced with possibilities.She pulled the chair away from the table and sat herself down on the wet plastic seat. She slowly ran. More

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