..Because me and him had actually gotten along pretty good before I cameout to them with this thing that seemed so weird to him; that made himthink some little circuit in my brain had gotten damaged and caused meto start mislabeling myself. And I saw that if he was being super-negative about this, it was mostly because he wanted to discourage mefrom doing a thing that he thought would make life really hard for me;since he couldn't understand how much harder it would be if I didn't.My father had been through some tough times in his life, but neveranything that would help him relate to how I felt; the way things thatevery other boy in town seemed okay with could bum me out as bad as theydid. Things like to go on using the name you'd been given at birth anddressing like you were expected to, which made me feel like everythingabout my life was this huge gigantic lie. And if that stuff had feltlike a lie, my being a girl now felt like the truth, the real me, andlike finally being at peace. "Oh!" Sliding my hand up her thigh, I felt the soft curls of her pussy. Her thighs opened, letting my fingers nestle between them against the warm, humid softness of her pussy."Oh, that's nice," she purred when I moved my fingers against her."Like that?" I asked, my dick leaking precum."Uhm hmmmm," she assured me, stroking my cock, running her thumb over the head of it, spreading my precum around and coaxing another wave of it out. I worked my fingers deeper into her pussy and felt hot, slick, wet folds of flesh.I was in her slit!"Oh yes," she hissed. "Don't stop."I looked around to see if anyone was watching us, if anyone could see what we were doing under the table. Stephanie seemed to be daydreaming, looking out at the dance floor. Then I glanced down. Beth's tits were stiff, her chest was moving raggedly. "If you don't stop, I'm going to cum," I warned her."So am I," she moaned. "Oh, my, please don't stop." Oh," I groaned. "Oh, God!"She was working her crotch against my fingers.
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