A sequel to Perfecting the Art...
A gay young man, who has been sitting on the fence of what gender to present to the world is sent to Boston for "polishing".
The breeze stirred my skirt once more, a more intense and longer lasting gust than when I first emerged from the apartment lobby and out into the as Rochelle. My skirt was lifted above my knees but somehow my freehand was able to hold it down as the gust subsided. To my vexation a few men stared at the spectacle. It also appeared that I represented a threat to the girl accompanying one of these gawkers. They had been strolling arm in arm but as soon as she noticed my attempt to hold my skirt in place, she pulled the gentleman’s arm tightly to her side and looked up at him. Glorying in my new role, I caught his eye and winked. His reaction was to blush. Not wanting to call any more attention to myself, I let t go at that and continued along the route Abigail had given me.