I looked around the room, my hand shaking a little now. I?d started tosweat, at least in my face, and I dropped the note out of my grasp,barely noticing as it drifted to the floor and landed beside my leftfoot, brushing my black sock as it fell.?I don?t want this, why, why is this happening,? I thought.I listened to the faint sound of my mother ironing downstairs, knowingall too well that she was ironing school uniform meant for me. If thisnote was right, I?d be supposed to be wearing that tomorrow.?No, no, I don?t want to be a girl.?Half of my fear was about being a teenager. Half of it was about being agirl. Perhaps more should have been about the girl bit, but it was allsomething that I wasn?t. It was all the identity of somebody else.?Stop this! Fucking hell, I?m a guy!? I shouted out loud.I didn?t care if my mother could hear. All I cared about was saving mylife, or at least, my life as a guy. I had to act now. It was alreadySunday afternoon.On shaky legs and virtually. I told her I would be happy to massage her legs anytime.Over the next week I rubbed Claire's legs every day, and every day I got a great hard-on looking at her panties as she was now spreading her legs very wide. She continued to berate Greg to Mom, and indicated that she really was lonely and unhappy.Claire came to the house Monday morning in tears. Greg had a union organizing trip out of town and he did not want her to accompany him. "I am so afraid being alone and pregnant" she told Mom. Mom told her she could stay with us, but Claire declined. Then Mom said, "why not let Bill spend the night? You have an extra bedroom." She hesitated, then asked Mom to ask me if I would mind. She told Mom she would pay me. Claire then called Greg to ask him, and he thought it was a good idea. I agreed, and when Claire went home that afternoon, I walked with her to her house.Her house was designed much like ours, three bedrooms at one end of the house, kitchen, dining, and living room.
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