I overlooked one aspect of going ahead with the surgery before I was donewith hormones; my breasts kept growing in size. Six months after mysurgery I...was a D plus. Och! My aching back!Well, I got impatience - 19 months into my new life. I jumped thetimeline; I advanced my schedule and moved up my surgery day. So after20 months, I had nearly completed everything?the new found femininity,the clothing, the surgeries for facial, breast augmentation, and downbelow. I even had gastric surgery to. Lynette’s features were stunning to my eye. She had beautiful, smooth skin, a wide mouth that smiled readily and a perfect small nose that joined with her gorgeous hazel eyes to form most of the expressions that I got to know over the years. Her hair was just longer than shoulder-length, a wonderful shiny light brown and framed her face with fringe that always tried to part in the middle. If there was a criticism to hurl at Lynette, it was that her clothes were always drab – always good quality. It was soon all over for me, this was all just too good. My body convulsed again and again, bucking my hips up off the ground and hard against Dave's thrusting crotch. My pussy spasmed over and over as I shouted the house down. The excitement of seeing and feeling me that way, and the effect of my pussy spasming against his cock was too much for Dave. With a mighty shudder he started hosing me full of his spunk. His cock twitched again and again as jet after jet spurted up into me. I relaxed. But he didn’t like smoking. And he didn’t like Tracy smoking. And he didn’t like fucking Tracy when she smelled of smoke. This was a problem, because Tracy didn’t just like smoking. She loved smoking. She adored it, she worshipped it, she lived for it. Which is kind of hard when your boyfriend hates it.Most mornings, Tracy woke up craving a cigarette. And a fuck. Question is, if you can’t do them at the same time, which do you do first? Generally speaking, the cigarette won.This particular.