I turned on the television, in an attempt to drown out my moans, and played with my pussy until I exploded in one satisfactory moan. Masturbating felt...good, but it was no comparison to my husband’s eight-inch cock. I walked downstairs and into the kitchen. I hadn’t thought anyone was home, turning the television on had become a habit, and I was surprised to see Manik, my eighteen year old son, sitting at the kitchen table looking at a parts catalogue for vintage roadster he had been rebuilding. "I am not playing hookie." I wasn't about to suggest it!" I say with my hands in the air. Now Dan's clothes are too baggy on me, but that's actually a good thing. It's not immediately obvious that I've changed genders. In fact: I look remarkably like my normal self... despite the major and minor differences. I already have rather long hair for a guy, and it works to my advantage right now. Depending on my posture and behavior I could easily switch between looking like a guy and a chick... but. More

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