Again, string bikini tan lines were present accentuating the feminine shape of my pelvis, ass, and long legs. As I tried to take in the whole scene of...myself in the mirror, I began to cry. How could this have been? Somehow I'd been transformed into a beautiful, sexy young woman. I didn't understand how or why. "Please God, please . . . help me" I cried. "I don't want to be a woman . . . I'm a man!" I ran back to the bedroom crying. I fell on the bed, closed my eyes and hoped that I'd fall. ‘John, it’s the last day and I am curious. How come you never hit on me?’ I put on my serious face. It was a hard question and I wanted to get the answer just right. ‘Billy, things could have gone four ways. If I didn’t hit on you and you were ok with that we could remain friends and that would be good. If I didn’t hit on you and you got upset we would no longer be friends but at least it wouldn’t be because I did something dumb. If I hit on you and you got mad then we would never be friends. More

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