She headed for the chat rooms.She wasn't sure why. She hoped it would be nice, quiet, and friendly. It was, and she was having fun. She'd made a coupl... of friends, and one was there. Simone from Vancouver, who went by the name of 'acquiescent', told her a couple of jokes about George Bush and Elaine found herself giggling out loud."Why don't you come visit in the BDSM room?" Simone had asked in a private message. Sometimes her English made Elaine smile."I don't think so. Too many weirdos,". She never bothered to correct this misperception, which bothers me to this day. What my father must have gone through. If my mom was ever asked if she ever cheated, though, I am absolutely sure she checked the box for ‘no.’ See, my parents had gone through a couple of rough years prior to the divorce, and they were frequently fighting over anything and everything. I usually found someplace else to be when that happened. I’m sure my mother’s thought process would be that she didn’t cheat, ‘not. I could walk into a swank hotel in street attire with no luggage but a valid credit card asking for a room with out a reservation, and I would be booked into the presidential penthouse before you could say starry-eyed admiration. I did tip well, but they couldn’t have known it before hand.It just seemed natural to me, as it had been this way all my lives. I didn’t even really pay any attention to the smoothing of the way afforded by my aura. I just took it as a given that every one would be. I realized I was free of any hair below my neck. I looked like I did before hitting puberty.Her beautification technique was flawless, drying my hair and pinned it up. She then removed the masque, applied lotion, make-up, and finished with nails painted pink. She spoke excessively, gasping for the air she would need to finish the sentence. Transforming my once masculine face into one better suited for a girl.The entire time I kept her naked body in view. It was hypnotizing watching her bust.
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