She had never used columns before, and was curious as to how to doit. She pulled her chair close to mine as I explained to her how to definethe colum...s, setting up the number of columns and the distance between them,and how to turn them on and off. It was tough, though, with the way shepressed her breasts into my upper arm as I typed. She was blessed with quitea nice pair, and she made no effort to hide them. One could have probablylost a small c***d in her cleavage. She was certainly. "Carl, my dad runs NBD, I have never been married, I am not gay but I prefer feminine males with a cock. I have only ever dated she males," he said. "Anyway, I needed a job and figured it was time to settle down with a wife. I knew my Dad had this Buddy Team that always seemed to produce excellent working tandems but also marriage and happiness for all. So, Dad helped me out and said that if I could get a she-male to apply, eh would partner us. Well, no she-males are qualified for this type of. The bond we share never diminished or even flickered. What was it, four years ago? The Valentine’s you came to the dinner table wearing nothing but one of my white dress shirts, one with French cuffs. And you never laughed, but carried on like it was perfectly normal. And when you slowly popped each button after our meal and padded to my side of the table, open to me, watching my eyes to make sure I was enjoying the show. I loved every casual flick of your slender wrist. Your fingers freed me. Our child bloomed in her belly. Every night in the comfort of our bed, I applied lotion to her swelling tummy, rubbed in the cream, went to sleep smelling cocoa butter. We talked, dreamed of several Palmer progeny gestating in what we hoped was a fecund womb and the same bed we had decided on the name Emily for a daughter, Eric for a son. Not bothering to speak aloud, I communicated telepathically, a form of séance, a silent communion. Little too nothing is known of life after death. As a.