When we finally got to the guest bedroom we both collapsed onto the bed and with zero energy left plus the ceiling spinning around at 90 MPH I wasn’... going anywhere and neither was Natasha.I think Natasha mumbled something but had no idea what it was but the fact that a few minutes later she turned on her side and put her arm over my chest confirmed that she had no issue with how we had both crashed out and I remember nothing until the early morning sun started to shine through the window.My. He usually worked nights. Iwas his supervisor. And still, we got along quite well.When I finally moved, I was happy at first. I ran away. I left mypretending life behind. Or didn't I? After all, I had a new job. Ican't be lazy there now, I need to prove myself. So, I kept pretendingand working. And working. And less crossdressing. None to be precise.It wasn't good. It helped me to feel real. Less fake. Less pretending.I could be me then. Before Christmas, I had two weeks of vacation time,mostly. More

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