Father" Just like my father," she thought. "He always referred to himself as 'Father'. Never 'daddy', but 'Father'.Then she saw the letter from her mo...her, in her distinct cursive writing. She opened it and read it, too:"Cathy:First of all, I want to apologize to you for holding you back in your development. After the things your father and I went through I now realize I was wrong to teach you so many things that were wrong. I wanted you to be a woman and to do that I felt it was necessary to. I doubted I wouldreally care if my hair was curly. When she finished with my hair, she gotmy clothes. It was a simple, t-shirt and shorts combo to go along with herundergarments. She handed me the panties, which I put on. She then helped me with thebra. I put on the rest of her clothes myself. The shorts were a littleshort for my liking, but I had to go with what was in her wardrobe. Shethen put on my makeup for me. She instructed me on every detail, so Icould do it when she wouldn't be. Her wardrobe rarely varied outside a jeans and loose-fitting sweater combo. She was aware of her body, but wasn’t terribly interested in it. She meticulously combed her dishwater blond hair, but rarely styled it. It fell straight off her head and around her shoulders in an uninspiring cascade. Clarissa had never been able to nail down exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She loved science, but hated the meticulousness of it. Sometimes she thought about going into politics, but a life. I caressed them, rubbed them, and finally I did it. I squeezed them while they lay in the clutches of the palms of my hands. “Ohhhhhhh wow, wow” she cried out. “That’s soooo phenomenal.” “You like how that feels do you?” I asked. “Oh god yes” she told me. “I should lay down so you could do anything you want to do.” “Is that what you want, really?” She said yes and we got “positioned” on her bed. Naked, except for a pair of panties, Lucy looked like some tropical woman out of the southern.