But the perhaps more sanepart of me knew this was all sorts of wrong and there could be some realfucked up people involved in all of this. I was also ...fuming with my motherfor letting my secret out of the bag and telling other people about it.What business was it of theirs -or mums?!The 4x4 finally stopped and entered through a big security gate thatopened electronically. We were entering some sort of country manor in themiddle of nowhere and drove along a drive for what seemed like ages.. Ah, yes, my father, the missing part of this equation. My dad was the exact opposite of Chuck, his polar opposite. Chuck was Beacon Hill, Dad was The Cape. Chuck was Wharton, Dad dropped out of Harvard to go to Paris because it sounded like the thing to do. Chuck met Ruth at Penn and married her after a brief courtship, Dad was painting hookers on the Boulevard de Clichy one morning when an English girl happened by and, admiring his work, asked if he’d like to join her for tea at the Crillon.. I could feel her still looking at me, even though I was focused on what my hands were doing.The sound of the zipper being undone was punctuated by Alexis’ fingers spasmodically tightening and relaxing her grip on my shoulders. I pulled her jeans open, and then sunk to my knees before her as I slowly drew them down the length of her legs. Her panties were a sheer and pale blue, and I could see she was already slick with arousal through the fabric.Alexis’s breathing had become laboured as I took. .. well Ididn't want this. I was angry. And being so weak made me feelvulnerable. Not a fan.Why had felt male last night when I slept. What gives with that? I meanhow am I getting these dreams and memories of being Peter Parker whilstI sleep only to wake up a girl? It's like they're rubbing my nose ineverything I've lost. I was Peter and not a girl... Without a clearanswer or any way of getting one I put aside such dark thoughts. It washard, and I suspected part of it was due to my altered.