.." I asked. I was unable to finish the sentence though."No," he replied. I didn't have to tell him what I was asking about. "Andyou have to admit, no...ody would ever guess that you weren't always a girl.You're too pretty."I laughed, partially to hide my discomfort but mostly because my brothercalled me pretty. He'd done it before, and some of his friends hadcertainly had their eyes on me. But he was telling me that there was awhole subset of students at this school who had no idea I hadn't. He gathered her by the shoulder and clung to her, burying his face in her chest. As he sought comfort in the touch of her still warm body, he recognised the scent that had touched him.Gently, tentativly, he slipped his hand down the waistband of her pants and touched his wife's damp and cooling womanhood. It was slick with something other than piss, and he knew even without withdrawing his hand and smelling it that she had climaxed as she died.Had she known he was there in her last moments? Had. More

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