My name is Hanna. Hanna Banana. I'm a young transsexual. And yet, meanwhile I am also 26 years old. I'm married to a very nice and successful man. Aaron earns a lot of money as a doctor. More precisely, as a plastic surgeon. Aaron has just turned 45 and reads every wish from my lips.
I know there's a big difference in age. But how many transsexuals manage to find a husband? And then another one so well-off? Even if Aaron isn't visually a dream man, he's my husband. And maybe it's not the big love either. But I have grown very fond of him.
Three years ago Aaron asked me to marry him. How could I have said no? We'd only been together a year then. Of course we don't have children. We both wanted children, but we neither found a surrogate mother nor were we allowed to adopt. My caring Aaren works very hard and very much. I work a lot too. As an interior designer, decorating and designing is my passion. We live in San Francisco, in a fancy Victorian town villa.
Aaron is Jewish. He doesn't look like a model, but he's not ugly either. He is very friendly, polite, charming and courteous to everyone. Aaron is actually exactly how a woman should imagine her husband. But there is one small catch. And that really literally a “little hook”. Aaron's penis is far below the American average and measures barely 10 cm.
I, on the other hand, am exactly right with 1.68 m. A little small, maybe, and with the hormones I'm taking. But just in the right places. I have very feminine curves, my cup size is 95 D. Aaron made it himself for my 25th birthday. My hair is blonde and it's up to my shoulders. My eyes are bright blue and deep as the sea.
