Icould feel the smooth nylon panties around my pulled back cockand the sensuous feel of my pink outfit and stockings all overthe rest of my body. I sa...t on a bar stool, watching everyone elsein the club, and saw that they all seemed most comfortable inthis atmosphere. Although some of the customers were clearly,like me, men dressed as women, others looked so natural that Icouldn't tell whether they were crossdressers, or real women. Iordered another drink, and was about to get up to join. Removing my sunglasses, I slowly scanned the entire area. She looked away as my gaze neared her. I waited, my eyes on her, until she thought I had looked past her. When she peeked again, my eyes met hers and locked.I didn't do anything but look at her. I didn't make any gestures, lick my lips, or anything. I simply stared into her eyes until she flushed and looked away. I smiled to myself, replaced my sunglasses and leaned back again.She must have decided that it was time to go. She kept. "How are you feeling right now, Ed," she asked."A bit weak, Mrs. Sloan." Since I'm going to be your nurse until you are better or your folks get home I think you should call me Bonnie." OK, Bonnie. You know I've always liked your name. Reminds of a bunny rabbit." You can't be all that sick if you can make such bad jokes," she laughed.I felt her cool hand on my forehead and it felt nice. Honestly I was sick but not really all that bad. Jack had been well taken in by my acting in my hopes his Mom. No sense in denying it. Rather, I embrace it. I live in Brockton, Massachusetts. The so-called City of Champions. Also known as Shit Town. Why? It’s simple, folks. If you don’t shit on people in Brockton, they’re going to shit on you. So you’ve got to always watch out for haters. They’ve learned not to mess with me anymore. I’m the toughest bitch you’ll ever meet. The black chick you see cussing on the subway or yelling at someone at the mall, that’s probably me. I got to express myself, you.