I told her I hate to wear underwear when I’m alone with a woman. She was highly pleased when she noticed her baby and the empty milk bottle. I hugge... her from behind and felt her breasts. “You’ve pleased mommy and my son will be rewarded,” she said and led me to the bed. Meghana removed the dressing- gown and pulled my pyjamas down. My cock rose in salutation to her pussy. I bent down and pulled down her pyjamas along with her pink coloured panty. When it fell around her ankles she stepped out. As hard as I tried, I couldn't picturemy manly father prancing around in a dress and wanting to be a woman, buthere I was doing the same thing. Maybe he was right about this being agenetic thing. If it was true, it shed a whole new light on my situation.If my wanting to be a woman was really genetic, then that meant it wasn'tmy fault. Of course, I still owned all of the responsibility. My fathersaid he felt similar feminine urges as a boy, yet he resisted becoming awoman. Why couldn't or. More

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