Four weeks and I'll beback home for Crimbo! Couldn't have worked out better!"I suppose you're right."To give him his due, he contained his excitement ...ong enough to ask how Iwas getting on. The trouble was, apart from my meat and two veg gettingsmaller I had nothing to report. If the female hormones hurtling throughmy bloodstream were turning me into someone else, they were doing itinvisibly.It didn't occur to me that becoming a girl was about more than growing apair of tits and losing what was. Yes. How? Go to the bar? No, no. Much too dangerous. Someonemight see him. The hotel staff might recognize him and throw him out. Worse,they might not know him and think he was a call-girl. A trollop. A Hooker.Picked up by the police. Humiliated. No, no. Never go out. Never be seen. Thisis private. If he was caught it would mean public ridicule or jail, or both.But ... But to feel like a woman. To wander outside where the cool breeze could caresshis shaven legs. Creep up beneath his skirt and. I watched as they moved together and slowly swayed to the music, his mate came back with the drinks and said “He’s quick he’ll be up her skirt in the next ten minutes”. I just smiled at him, knowing she was probably hoping that was so. We both watched as he placed his hands on her arse cheeks and was pulling her tight into him, Mum was leaning back slightly so they could talk, but we definitely couldn’t hear the conversation, but we could see him caressing her arse and slowly raise his left. I even found myself timing my arrival at work every morning on the off chance I might bump into her on the walk in. I started to ask her out more frequently. I never indicated that I wanted to date her. Heather had never shown an interest in me and I knew from past conversations that she didn’t believe in workplace romance or dating younger guys, so that was two strikes against me. Plus, she was still a little hung up on her ex-boyfriend. So we continued to hang out as friends. Mostly, we’d.