“Would you do something for me?” “Whatever you want,” I replied with fervor, still giddy and relaxed from the wonderful fucking we had had, �...Sir!” “There’s some cleanup to do,” he explained, nodding towards his cock, then looking at me expectantly, one eyebrow raised. How could I resist such an invitation? I wiggled over so my head was in his lap and took the now limp cock into my mouth with a small shiver of naughty delight. It was slick from his cum and my juices, and the musky taste was. It was a sad irony that it was not who they buried.To me, she was Laura. I met her sixteen months ago, over the internet. We frequented the same chat rooms, both standing on the threshold of gender transition. After a few months of correspondence, we met for lunch. It's funny how well you can get to know someone through her written word. By the time I met her face-to-face, I knew she was not the man her body reflected.We were both married, and both struggling with the pain we would cause in. More

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