His legs were encased in dark, tan tights, his feetslipped into silver heels. He carried a black handbag filled with anassortment of make up, money an... tampons.Art stood before the mirror. The familiar sense of accomplisment washedover him as he drank in the image. There was no way anyone would guesshim to be a boy. No way anyone would guess him to be sixteen. To all theworld he would appear as a young, twenty something woman. He placed hishands on his waist and cocked his head back, pouting at. I have always been a cunt man. Of course I love breasts, but nothing to beat a cunt. So I left her bra on and untied her petticoat and took it off. And finally, what I had only dreamt of just 4 hours back. I peeled the white panty down her great legs exposing here divine cunt to the bright sunlight. She slowly spread her legs so that I could get a better view. But then, before attacking my target, I took of her bra and freed her wonderful breasts too, leaving only her Mangalsutra hanging from. More

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