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Dad left and I was withher alone. She asked me a lot of questions about nothing in particularalbeit about everything. She was making notes about my answers on theclipboard."Well, I'm pretty sure you ain't a boy," she stated suddenly instead ofasking another question.I was speechless. I could neither confirm nor deny. It was true but Icouldn't say it. I was terrorized by an idea my Dad would know I wasn't aboy.I was sitting in her office on the chair trembling in fear. My Dad was theone who insisted on others living by the rule to live and to act strictlyaccording to the regulations. And there was no place for me in thoseregulations.The law is the law as they say and if you are a girl you are a girl and ifnot you are a boy. I wasn't. I wasn't a girl I mean. Or rather I couldn'tprove I was. But I wasn't a boy too. I didn't feel like one. So who was I?A waste of a place. And the Doc confirmed I wasn't a boy. What will benext? Disposal or recycling of that waste into something. We begin to sway to the music…but I pull away. ‘No kissing, no touching,’ I whisper. Wordlessly, you sit on the edge of the bed…disappointed. I dance for you, around you, even occasionally on you…but never with you. The candles flicker, the waves roll, and your pulse begins to match the Spanish beat as you watch my teasing movements with great care. As I twirl in the soft light, my short dress rises revealing more and more of my skin to the cool night air. As you release soft moans with each movement, I notice your mounting distress. I allow you to join me and soon I am lost in the sensations of your warm breath against my skins. I close my eyes and take in your caresses. The song ends and the music changes. We stop our movements, but you quickly take me in your arms. Breathlessly, you lay me down on the massive bed luxuriously draped in satin. I watch as your eyes do what your fingers, your hands have yet to do. With each passing minute, your eyes reveal another item carefully.
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