‘Fuck me, Dude,’ I said, drying my lips with the back of my hand. ‘I’m either coming down with the plague or I have the mother of all hangover....’ I heaved again, but my stomach was empty. My bowels cramped and rumbled. ‘Tell me about it, Dude,’ Tommy groaned, holding his head in his hands. ‘And don’t let me hear you puke again or I’m going to have to join you.’ ‘I gotta take a wicked dump, Dude.’ I wobbled off toward the cabana, finding it difficult to hurry while keeping my butt-cheeks. " But she will look so beautiful, Father! We both saw all those women onthat tel-e-vision show. None of them were as pretty as Mother but theunderclothes they wore made them look so nice. Imagine how Mother wouldlook dressed as they were."I certainly did imagine that. It made me feel very strange. As a woman,I did not have my manhood to stroke for relief and I was unsure whatwomen do under those circumstances. In fact, I was surprised that womeneven experienced those feelings. I assumed that I. More

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