Mami – haa , per kaise maine to padhai bhi nahi ki hai .Me – are ek kaam hai chota sa 3 4 hrs ka.Mami – haa karungi jo kahoge , kya karna hai.Me...– kuch nahi bas jis din mai bulaun mera bister garam karna hai , ek din ke 500 millenge.Mami – ( gusse me ) tumhara deemag kharab hai kya , nikal jao yaha se , mujhe kya samajh rakha hai , aaj ke baad yaha aaye to sabko bata dungi ye baat .Me – are mami gussa kyu hoti ho , Dekho mujhe pata hai mama tumhe na Paise deta hai na khushi , mere se dono. I have also had a number of lovely encounters with other TVs and male admirers. You can read my 'True Stories' when I post them on this site.It constantly amazes me when I read so-called autobiographical stories about some guy who suddenly decides to crossdress or is forced to dress as a woman, and with no previous experience or preparation suddenly transforms from hairy man into a sexy stunning woman.I have written the story below as a tongue in cheek dig at these stories.I apologise to those. On our second night at the hotel, we were all in bed asleep by 8pm ensuring enough rest for the long week ahead of us. Two hours later I woke up again feeling restless, the tension of this whole move perhaps getting to me. I sat at the table, read the Hotel brochure, and noticed the pool was open until 11pm. A quick flurry through a case, off I went swimsuit and dressing gown on. I entered the pool area to find only one other person in the pool, a young man doing lengths at a fast pace. I sat. He escape, kill us. No one do better than you. You gain days. Good days. I make peace. Leave messages. Spend time you. Have hope."We didn't have any conversations that long again; Prof couldn't physically or mentally participate for that long. I was starting to have increasingly long and serious lapses too.There were conversations that Prof and I chose not to have. He wanted no recriminations or "If only" regrets, so I kept those conversations within my head. Prof set the tone that we weren't.