My fears were taking root and I wasn't sureof how I could handle what was happening to me.I've always loved being a boy; the rough housing and messing around withmy friends was something I looked forward to every day. My time spentwith Cindy, was always special because I became like another person, butI was still, Mark. Cindy would call me her girlfriend, and sometimes Ifelt that way, but we both knew I was still, Mark. Now things had changedas Amanda, made herself known. I think if Mom had named me, even the samename as I have now I might feel different about what was happening to me.I would still be Mark, a boy with a pretty face and a name my mother gaveme so I could work as a girl. She would have chosen everything; even theclothes we bought tonight would have been a masquerade for the job. Therewould have been no connection to Amanda, other than being her for a job.When I named Amanda, or I should say when I renamed myself, somethinghappened to me. I had essentially told myself. She was wearing a solid white bikini. The top barely covered her nipples. The bottom was a G-string. I watched as she walked across the floor and her meaty ass shaking like a big bowl of jell-o. My eyes followed her until she was out of sight. My male instinct was to get up, follow her and rip the thin material from her young body, but my fatherly instinct held strong and I lost myself in my work. After a while I got so intrigued in the numbers that I almost forgot that the sexy Latina teen was present. After about an hour and a half I pushed back from the desk and walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. I twisted the top and turned to the window to look out. I almost dropped my beer when I seen what was outside. Jen had gotten out of the pool and was laying out in one of the lounge chairs. Her beautiful body lay on her back. Her top was lying on the concrete beside her. My eyes stared at the most perfect set of breast I had ever laid eyes on. There was not a bit of sag as.
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