Neither were the birth certificate, socialsecurity card, and other documents and records. The papers were all forsome chick named Caitlyn Paige Thomp...on, daughter of Mark and HeatherThompson.Behind the documents were several photographs of 'Caitlyn' with herparents and suddenly my memories came rushing back. Since I was a childmy parents seemed to encourage me to participate in any activity thatallowed me to dress up like a girl and I hate to admit it, but I make apretty convincing girl. . ”He looked at me and reached under the counter. He brought up a large ledger and started flipping through the pages before stopping. He looked up with a wide grin, “You are in luck master. The ruins belong to the city and for a small fee...”He looked at the stone on the counter, “They and fifty acres will be yours.”I looked at him for a minute longer and then tossed a single gold coin onto the counter, “No more.”He swallowed and bobbled his head, “Give me one moment master.”He began scribing in. She sat in the pagoda by the river which flowed through her garden, near the small forest which came with the lands and by the statue-lined pathway which led to her front door. It was a delight to show off her new-found wealth, and the luxury of having servants to tend to all those chores which she used to hate, and usually neglected. The pinnacle of her fame, however, was to interviewed on the late night talk and sex show,  presented by the eponymous interviewer, a privilege only. Our tongues wrestled and his 9 inch dick was longing for some attention. He gently lead me to the bed where he unclipped my bra and let my D cup breasts fall out. He looked me in my eyes and started slowly sucking on my neck. Then down to my breast where he flicked each nipple with his tongue, then he lowered down kissing my flat stomach. Then he arrived at my tiny wet pussy. He started kissing my thighs with such soft kisses it made me squirm. He gently glided his tongue sliding my soaking.