" My father was going to be ashamed to have me as a son. Or daughter, or whatever I was. And I had to tell him it was my idea to dress like a girl. ... was going to go crazy if I kept having to do this any longer. I kept telling myself that it could be worse. At least I got to wear boy clothes to school, even if she did make me wear a girdle sometimes, when I didn't have gym. And no one from school had ever found out about me, yet. Why was this happening to me? What had I done to deserve. I suppose I had on some sort of stupid grin. I felt poleaxed. ‘Is she the one?’ ‘Yeah, maybe, well, yeah.’ I was very fluent, even loquacious. She was the one, if she’d have me, us. She was the one. I was likely pretty stupid the next day, or maybe just wrapped up in my memories of Julie’s sweet softness, her warmness, her unexpectedly unleashed passion. It had been sex at last, good sex, maybe great sex, likely not the best I’d ever had (Stacey and I had had some quite wonderful times, too),. Oh yeah. I didn’t tell you about how the project turned out. I wonder why? That was, after all, the whole point of the story ... right?Making the busts was messy, but it worked. They looked almost eerie ... pure white things that were so perfectly detailed, and looked so much like the real thing. Cat was amazed by them, and demanded to know exactly what it took to make them. I showed her Tabby’s cast, which was the only one I could get my hands on, and one of the boxes the kits came in, and. We watched sports together and occasionally porn, talked about girls, we worked and the same part time job at a novelty store, where more often then not we would get a pair of brightly colored vibrators and reenact star wars lines when it was slow. She had even got me to go to a strip club with her and had bought me a lap dance. She said it was the least she could do for dragging me to all the other parties. Though I had to admit I had fun at those she normally kept me close to keep guys from.