However, I found out that the game would continue to get better.I ran in the bathroom and washed up with the washcloth. I threw on a pair of shorts an...d a T-shirt and was upstairs within minutes. My brother and sister were sitting on their side of the table there in the kitchen. My dad had his seat already at the head of the table. My mom was still doing something at the counter. I decided to take her lead and truly act like nothing happened. It was difficult but I continued on.As I entered the. Her big hand wrapped around my shaft and guided the head to her wet slit."Fuck me boy" Yes Ma'am"I thrust in and out for what I thought was forever and erupted inside her. "Oh George you did it again." Sorry Stephanie." Your still hard" she sounded surprised. Her hand was once again stroking my shaft she shifted her big brown butt a little and pressed the head to her asshole. "Now George push slowly forward" she instructed.With teenage enthusiasm I thrust my hips forward and buried half the. ‘I cah’nt seem to f’get hah much I hate m’ah father.’ The preacher man sat silently, listening. The man in black expected this to happen. In fact, he had planned on it. Several more moments of dead silence passed, and all the while the man in black was listening for any tell tale signs of another person in the church with them. There were none. He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket and put it in the rectangular hole in the wooden panel. ‘I’d like to think that I can set things right. At. It is August 15, 1975. Saint John’s bazaar starts this afternoon. My junior year in college will begin in a few weeks, and I’ll need to go shopping for school clothes and supplies soon. Somehow I know all this. I know my name is Stephanie, not Stephen, and I have a younger sister Patty, not a brother Patrick. I have a lifetime of memories of being a man, and at the same time 20 year’s worth of memories of being Stephanie seem to lie just underneath the surface of my consciousness, bubbling up.