I would make sure I was tapping away at the keyboard furiously as they started out the door each the morning. “I’m on a roll,” I would call out... or give them some other encouraging words. As soon as the door was shut, I would close the word processing program, open the New York Times web page, and pour some Tia Maria in my coffee. By noon I’d be too inebriated to do anything but lie on the couch and watch old movies. I’d sleep off the first drunk and be reasonably sober by the time the kids. I was young, stupid, and prone to tantrums– tantrums that I sometimes directed my grandma. I still feel guilty about them now. In the background, the family was sniping, and I was angry that the hormones were taking their time to work their magic. I looked in the mirror, and I still saw a boy.The second year was better as my appearance became undeniably feminine. By the latter half of the year, nobody I met thought I was a boy. I looked like a girl, and I was treated like a girl, even if I was. You weren’t expecting my pussy to grip your dick. So I bite my lip, put a hand on your chest and one hand on a leg and swivel my hips back and forth. When I go forward I can feel your dick inside of a juice pocket in my pussy and it feels so good I moan every time it happens. Your enjoying this more and more so you put your hands on my hips and I lift up up just enough for you to bend your knees upward so you can take over with the motions. You begin thrusting up and down pounding my pussy. I wiggled until it was in the right place, then I pushed, long and hard, until I began to penetrate her. She lifted an inch, and her pussy lips massaged my glans, as she spread her wetness all over. I thrust along her slit, teasing her clit. Then I pulled back and aimed at her hole again. My entire being was focused on the tip of my cock as it squeezed into her one inch, then two. I slipped out an inch, and then she just dropped, and I was inside her completely.When I was young, I lived for.