He pushed the door open and stepped into the house, his 6’1” frame blocking the harsh sunlight from entering the hall. He closed the door behind h...m and kicked off his shoes and put them into the messy pile of shoes belonging to Hannah’s family. He hung his coat on the bannister and looked into the living room, Hannah wasn't there so he assumed she was in the garden sunbathing. He walked through the hall into the kitchen and out of the backdoor. She wasn't there. As he turned to go back into. .." Jordan, I'm your therapist. I am bound by doctor-patientconfidentiality. I swore an oath to protect that confidentiality when Ibecame a doctor, and it is inviolable. You can tell me anything." You won't tell anyone? Not even Angela? Not even Matt?" Not even Angela. Not even Matt. I promise. Now Jordan, please talk tome."Jordan threw caution to the wind."I... I was born a man."There was a long pause on the other side of the line."Jordan, I think you should come to my office."* * *Jordan. Sarah sucked in her stomach to assist him in opening her jeans. The clasp opened, then the zipper buzzed down, exposing the front of her lacy panties. Although the jeans fit like a second skin, he managed to slide them down over her lean hips with surprising ease. Once Sarah’s jeans were off, Ben examined the young woman, who now wore only a skimpy bra and bikinis. Her body was slender, yet well-formed, her legs lithe. She was a cheerleader and was also on the gymnastic team and her body was. It's difficult to get the words out, and there are special skills involved in the process.For instance: it is vital that you DO NOT read what you have written straight after you have written it. Since writing about it requires me to be depressed in the first place, I've found that if I re-read the thing I get even more depressed and have to do something horrible to myself. Usually cutting, biting or burning; although I've been punching bits until they go numb lately (slightly strange; you'd.