Her mouth was open, slightly and she wore no makeup. Her lips were too inviting to pass up.It began with a soft kiss, but soon turned into lip pulling... playful biting, tonsil probing, and escalated to a battle of the tongues. One of my hands slipped down to her ass, and I felt her hand at the back of my head, making sure it didn't get away. She wasn't tiring, and I wasn't either. We would probably still be going at it if she hadn't noticed me grimace. It wasn't what she thought, either."I'm. "She showed me how to roll them up my leg. "Wonderful! Now let's see ifthis bra's the right size. Don't worry ... it's just a B cup. Perfect.Here, we have some inserts to fill it out so it doesn't look funny." God forbid anything should look funny," I said in a feeble attempt athumor.She ignored my comment and added a filmy blouse that let the bra showthrough clearly."Oh, no! I didn't get you any panties! We'll have to do that after wevisit MAC." I could put on my old underwear." They're long. I felt disgusted at the country’s officials, being so xenophobic.I allowed her to calm down. I took her to the en-suite where she could wash up. In the meantime, my lack of social skills was coming to its own. I had to get out of my rational comfort zone to help her cope.“Ashley,” I struggled for the right words, “Look, to me you are a lady. I will always treat you like one. I’m OK with your genital configuration.”“Thank you, you don’t know what it means to me to be accepted for what I am,” she. Fortunately, Mr. DeLuca had been very kind to her on more than one occasion. He did keep track of the minutia, such as when a punk kid was raiding his trashcans or a beaten down on her luck whore needed a shower and a few days of rest in an unused hotel room. Using his name unlocked her willingness to be of help, and she agreed to be my eyes and ears on the street.I got to know her quite a bit better over the next three hours, but I didn't let her unzip my pants to blow me, which she did.