I looked inside and found a label identifying the wig as a Christine Jordan. 100% human hair, hand woven. I erupted into gooseflesh and crossed to the...mirror. Boy, what a shock that was. I flinched, seeing myself the first time. I grinned, foolishly, blushing."You are a fag," I told the reflected boy in the baby-doll nightie. It fit him so well. He looked like a girl, just like my sister. I watched him pull the wig down over his head and awkwardly adjust it. I made a better-looking girl than a. Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable."The cheers erupted from the crowd behind Beverly and were echoed by selected individuals standing near John Cord."Madam, I believe you owe the house your bra," said the dealer."Oh, my god," whispered Beverly. She had turned white as a sheet. Men behind her jockeyed for better viewing positions."If you please," said the dealer holding out his hand.Beverly turned from pale white to beet red in an instant. Where the hell is George, she thought. She brought her. It was around three o clock in the afternoon and the sun was still quite hot. Eve asked for some sun cream. I looked in my bag and discovered that I had forgotten to bring it with me. Mike said he had plenty with him and pulled out a bottle of lotion. Eve was lying on her front and Mike asked her if she would like him to put sun cream on her back. Eve hesitated but Mike squeezed a large amount of cream into his hand and knelt down next to Eve and began rubbing sun cream over back. Mike. The moonlight illuminated her; her red hair falling in curls over the cute stub nose dotted with the freckles that she never could get to go away. Her slender body shone whitely, set off by the green nightgown that did little to hide her trim body and nothing to hide her legs. Mike shook his head. She never understood just how beautiful she was, she always thought she was too skinny and flat-chested and not at all attractive. To him she was the most gorgeous woman ever to walk the.