"Good luck," he said. He left, closing the door behind him.The black guy was looking at me with a hard look. He was about 30, six foot two, at least 2...0 pounds and ripped. He was wearing a tanktop. He had a shave head and a goatee. His arms were bigger than my legs, and covered in tattoos. "You know how to suck cock?" He asked me. "And don' lie – I seen the lipstick an' high heels in yo bag."I nodded. He stood there staring at me. "Stan' up," he ordered. "I wan' check you ass out - see what I. What had led me tobe dressed this way you ask?As we walked I was careful to imitate her short strides, to keep my chestout and to glide. Caroline had trained me well in how to walk like awoman.I was constantly conscious of people looking at us. Would anyone guessthat I was once a normal man?It was at that point why people were looking at us. I realised that as Iwalked, or as the wind took it I wasn't sure which, my skirt revealedmost of my left thigh. No wonder I was attracting so much. More

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