Told me that if anything happened to her. She would find a way to get up with one of us. Our mutual friends or me. Then one day, I seen her online, sh... told me: I’m moving! He’s at work and I’m pulling out. Going to her sister’s. I was happy, but kind of sad at the same times didn’t want her to leave. But I knew she needed to. She said she would keep in touch. It’s been 2 years now. Nothing, I search the newspapers where she lives to see if anything has happened to her. But nothing yet has come. " And John's fetish is... " The world moved in slow motion as I divulged deeply private information. But I knew Monica wasn't going to give in until she had every drop out of me. Shit, she was like a detective, or even a bloody interrogator. I continued, "... Well, he had this phase which I indulged him in for a few months. And I'm talking, three years ago or more. Not now." Interesting. Go on." Well, when we used to make love..." My heart fluttered. I took a sip of the cold cocktail to quell. And those things on my chest, all floppyand fat and pointy... I knew there was only one word for them: boobs!With a sinking feeling I lowered my panama bottoms, knowing all toowell what I was going to see. It was true. I was a girl down there too.It seems strange to say, but I was pretty calm about it, maybe becauseI was still so zonked out, maybe because something was happening to mymind and the feminine was taking over, or maybe because after beingaround my mother all my life not much really. She seems to easily find a way into my knickers even when I am not horny.But that takes me away from what I really wanted to write about, so best I get back on topic. It reminds me of what Jane keeps saying to me, "Ruth, we are naming you 'Run on Ruth' from now on. You just can't stop talking and I do believe it's because you are afraid." Maybe she is right; I am afraid to let others control my life or get too close to me so I keep talking.Maybe I should explain a little about what Ruth looks.