I opened the door and saw her standing there, leaning to one side with her hand on her hip. “So fucking sexy!” I thought to myself. Wearing a skin...tight dress and heels, she looked amazing. I mean, I knew she was a boy but she had to be the hottest “Trap” or “CD” or “Femboy” or whatever you want to call her, on the planet! I just wanted to call her mine! She walked in with a confidence that only knowing how much I wanted her could bring. Her hips swung side to side, her lips, full and red, her. But you could also say that they were both looking in the samedirection. Sometimes, in these dreams, he was a little girl. Or maybe thegirl was really her. But that, it seemed, meant that she was him. Ormaybe it didn't. Thinking of these dreams it occurred to her that the faceyou never normally see is your own.In therapy, when Amy was at university, she had recovered a memory ofsomething she had witnessed when she was very small, a road accident. Hertherapist had thought this very. More

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