I’m regarded by all as a pretty girl. I’m a quarter inch shy of six foot tall without shoes, slender, with a generous bosom many a woman would kill for, thanks Mum, and a cute, pert and very rounded bottom that I’m told has a mesmerising motion when it follows me as I walk, thanks again Mum whoever you are. I like to sing and can, though my voice is at the deep end for a woman, but that suits the style of jazz and fado I like to sing.

All in all I dropped lucky in the genetic lottery with a couple of minor exceptions, but hey who has it all. I’m intelligent, well clever enough to get an upper second class honours degree, which led to a Masters and I’m currently writing up my Ph.D. thesis on inner city traffic management strategies. I was funded by Manchester and Glasgow city councils and have a rather unusual job to go to in that I shall be working for both of them. All in all I’m not doing too badly for a twenty four year old orphan out of the care system.

I’m in the early stages of a relationship with Jake which I have hopes may lead to a permanent relationship. I’m a bit insecure because of my past, so just because I want it so badly I’ve never mentioned marriage. I definitely don’t want to get a reputation as a fast girl, so since I’m going to be living here for the next eighteen months I’ve told Jake that if he presses me too fast for intimacy I’ll just walk away. He’s been ok with that so far, but he’s a bloke, and we all know what that means. I have a secret that I haven’t exactly told him yet, but I think he suspects something. I know I’ll have to tell him before our relationship goes much further. Problem is I have no idea how to tell him I have some extra bits that no girl wants. I’m having the surgery next month, but there may be traces of it left and there are of course implications if he wants a family.

Well, I did it. I told Jake, and he’s now history. Like I said I’d only allowed intimacy to go so far. I had my hand in his trousers, and he’d unfastened my bra and we were both enjoying ourselves when I said, “Jake, there’s something I have to tell you. I have some extra bits that are being surgically corrected next month.”

“I knew there was something that night when you let me touch your bottom but stopped me moving my hand round to the front. I thought it was something like that with you being so tall and singing like you do. I think it’s really sexy. Do you have to have the surgery? Could I see?”

“What have my height and voice got to do with polydactyly?”

Jake asked, “Is that another word for futanari? Like a chick with a dick?”

“No, you idiot. I’ve got an extra toe on each foot.”