To feel my tiny heels on the pedals, my heavy boobs sway likependulums, my skirt flap, the wind in my hair, my panties on the seatand my bright painte... nails on the handlebars.I'm bundled to a full-length mirror and released. They stand backkeen to see my reaction. I want to scream with anger but myfemininity gets the better of me and years of suppression are sweptaway. I'm beautiful and I look like a sexy babe despite being in thegarish outfit. My jaw drops as I stare at my reflection. She read me the paper, wiped my brow, and even helped to the bathroom. It was a difficult time for me, but I finally was allowed to go home.I laid around for another six weeks or so, before I could return to work. During that time, Gwen was attentive and understanding. She tried hard to be cheerful and upbeat. The kids were back in college, but came home most weekends to see me and help their mother care for me.Gwen recovered fully in a very short period of time. At least it seemed like it to. More

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