When he finally had to exhale, my fingers began to pull down his zipper. I moved it exceedingly slowly in order to keep him wondering. Clearly, he was...enjoying the fact that he was about to be blown, but was he also thinking about 'having sex', as one of our former Presidents had tried to differentiate sucking from fucking.Truth be told, I myself wasn't sure how far I was ready to let myself go with Eddie G. I knew how much pleasure I got from my own fingers. How much would I receive from what. It was such a lovely warm day that I couldn’t bear to spoil it by wearing a bra, so I just put on a strappy top that allowed my breasts to swing free. As long as I was careful about bending over, I was still more or less decent. I put on a pair of very short denim shorts that showed off my legs. I told myself this was just for comfort, but I hoped Emma would like what she saw.Judging by her reaction when we met, she approved of my choice. She was wearing a different sundress, red and white this. She sat on the couch by my feet.I looked at her and began to smile all over. I could see by the look on her face that she was about to get up. I had forgotten that I was lying there with just a towel filled with ice on my dick. "I'm sorry Grandma! But when you said, "What can Grandma do to make it better", all I could think of was when I was small. I would hurt something and you would say those same words to me. I would tell you to kiss it and make it better. And you would always kiss it to. I unbuttoned my shirt and opened it. Sure enough, I was wearing a bra. I guessed my cup size as B. I was a woman. I had come back into the world as a homeless woman wearing smelly clothes who slept in an abandoned house. I couldn't have imagined a more uncanny fate for a dying man. Was this a sort of hell, an eternity of homeless misery as a member of the opposite sex? No, I couldn't believe I'd been a bad enough man to warrant eternal damnation. This wasn't an afterlife. It was real life,.
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