1. Bobbi


    Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: Gay Male, Shemales, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    a top, and stepped into a pair of brown penny-loafers. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked almost, but not quite, like a girl with my longish hair fluffed out in a unisex style. I was letting it grow long, but it was not quite full female length yet. I could almost pass as a butch woman, but since most people at work knew me as a boy, they thought I was just &#034queer&#034. I was ready to leave for work except for one last item. I had just bought a leather bag with a shoulder strap. It was not a purse. It was more like a small photographer's soft gadget bag. I purse would have been an obvious giveaway, but this I could get away with. A lot of the &#034Hippies&#034 carried these, so I could too. It was even just big enough for me to put a padded bra, my make-up case, and some jewelry in the bottom under my wallet and change purse. Margo had finished her shower, and was sitting in the kitchen having coffee and a cigarette. &#034My, but don't we look nice today!&#034 she said as I entered the room. I thanked her as I pulled a light jacket on, and slung my bag over my right shoulder. I asked her what she thought of the bag. &#034It looks good,&#034 she replied. &#034You could pass as a woman just the way you are now, Bobbi. If you had make-up on, there would be no question. You're very pretty. You just look like a girl.&#034 That was what I hoped I would hear. I said good-bye, and left for work. Margo and I lived on 46th Street just off 9th Avenue in New York City, and ...
    the Department Store where I worked was at 39th Street and 5th Avenue. That was just eleven blocks, so I usually walked. This morning was clear, but the mid-September chill was a harbinger that winter was not far away. I felt good! What I wanted most in the world at that moment was to be a woman, and I was making progress toward that end. It did not take me long to get to work. I made one stop on the way in at a little hole-in-the-wall Coffee Shop on 39th Street. I usually stopped there each morning to get a cup of coffee to go, so I could have it in the stock room when I started work. I got a very nice smile from the young Puerto Rican boy behind the counter. I do not know if he knew whether I was a man or a woman, but the smile felt nice just the same. This was starting to be a very good day. I went in through the Employee's Entrance, and went to the time clock room. I bumped into a man as I entered. It was Paul! &#034Oh, excuse me,&#034 he started, &#034I didn't see...&#034 Paul stopped, and stared at me. &#034Bob?&#034 he asked. I nodded, and said, &#034Yes, good morning!&#034 A look of recognition, followed by a smile crossed his face. I was not sure what that meant, so I decided to proceed carefully. &#034I didn't recognize you at first,&#034 he said. &#034You've started looking very different lately. You look nice, but different.&#034 I thanked him for what I assumed he meant as a compliment, and punched in. As I turned to leave, Paul said, &#034Err... Why don't you stop ...
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