Rear Window (Revised Version) free porn video

I was unhappy with some aspects of the original Rear Window.so I rewrote parts of it. I am now happy wit this new revised version,
Enjoy

Rear Window

Nikkie Silk

Rear Window is a 1954 film directed by Alfred Hitchcock and starring
James Stewart and Grace Kelly. This fictional story is inspired by some
of the characters and events of the film.

For a while I wished I could go back and start that day again. It had
all begun so well. The forecast was for a beautiful summer's day; clear
blue skies and wall to wall sunshine. I hadn't taken the Norton out for
a long time and this seemed the perfect opportunity. I pulled on my
leathers feeling them a little tighter than the last time I wore them.
It reminded me that I also needed to get back to the gym. I had been
working away for the past six months and had been so busy that I had let
my training regime go.

I adjusted my helmet and wheeled the bike out of the garage. It had been
serviced by my regular mechanic before I went away so I hoped that it
would fire up. Yes, that's good, I thought, as the familiar roar came
from the engine. I didn't have any real plan as to where I was going. I
had always enjoyed just getting on the bike and letting a journey unfold
in front of me. Free styling it like that had taken me to some wonderful
places I would never have found from a map.

I rode slowly through the traffic choked streets of South London and
onto the motorway just to open her up a bit. I wouldn't stay on the
motorway for long as it's boring riding such a magnificent bike in a
straight line. Give me England's winding A or even B roads any day of
the week. I was planning to take a month off after this last contract so
the ride today would be the beginning of my holiday.

I turned off soon enough onto a two lane A road and just let the machine
do its thing. It was a perfectly balanced and powerful b**st and I think
I'm a good rider when I'm in the groove. Bike and man were at one with
each other that day until ‘it’ happened.

‘It’ happened when I had just come round a blind corner and found a
small Ford overtaking a lorry coming straight at me. The last thing I
remembered was the terrified look on the faces of the young lads in the
Ford.

I woke up in hospital the next day with a broken collarbone, two broken
ribs, a compound fracture of the right leg, a dislocated left knee, and
a badly ruptured Achilles. I couldn't remember what had happened, but
they told me I had been very lucky. I lost control of the bike as I
tried to avoid the car and slid off the road into a thicket of bushes.
The Ford and the lorry didn't stop. Thankfully, a motorist following me
did stop, called 999 and the air ambulance got me to hospital in a
hurry.

It could have been much worse.

Still, it was bad enough. I was going to be laid up for a while. I had
just moved into a newly converted apartment up on the top floor of an
old four storey building in London. It had been a Victorian workhouse at
one time with four wings built around a central courtyard. It was a
perfect fit for my bachelor lifestyle; two double bedrooms, new kitchen,
big lounge and a wet room. The big feature was floor to ceiling windows
in the living room which looked out over a shared landscaped courtyard.
Perfect, aside from the fact there was no lift. I was discharged from
hospital a week after surgery; they needed the bed space, apparently. I
had a surgical boot for the Achilles rupture, a plaster cast for the
fracture and an arm sling for the collarbone. All in all, a class one
screw up.

After some wrangling between my solicitors, my company and the health
insurers, it was agreed that I could get a live in carer and
physiother****t for the two to three months’ recuperation I would need.
The insurers were trying to claim the accident had been my fault, but
the witness statements together with the police report finally absolved
me of all blame.

My parents had emigrated to Australia about five years previously so
there was going to be no help from them. Mum did offer to fly back over,
but Dad hadn't been well recently so I told her that she should stay out
there to look after him.

My sister Mandy, a research biologist, was halfway up the Wazoo, or some
such river in the Amazon, so no help there either. I didn't have a
girlfriend to call on as I had discovered my last one cheating on me
with her personal trainer. There was an old girlfriend who had offered
to pop in to keep me company from time to time, but that was as far as
it went.

There were mates, of course, but they were worse than useless when it
came to providing help. So, it was going to be me and my live in carer
stroke cook stroke physio for the next couple of months. The hospital
sent me home in an ambulance and the paramedics, bless them, managed to
carry me up the stairs on one of those chair contraptions they have for
such occasions. I had been given a wheelchair, and a commode chair, God
forbid.

My carer was due to arrive at lunchtime and precisely at midday there
was a call on the intercom. I buzzed him in and several minutes later
there was a knock on the door and I managed painfully to wheel myself to
the door and open it. Standing outside was a weedy looking guy with his
hair in a ponytail and a couple of large suitcases.

"Hi, I'm Paul, I'm your live in."

"Oh. Right, I'm Jeff, pleased to meet you."

We shook hands and I guess I was a bit underwhelmed by him. He looked a
bit puny for the task of hauling me around for the next few weeks.
Although I had already seen in hospital how much a tiny Filipina nurse
could lift with the right technique. He had just hauled two heavy
suitcases up four flights of stairs and he didn't seem out of breath, so
I guess that boded well.

Paul immediately took the handles of the wheelchair and pushed me back
into the apartment before retrieving his suitcases.

"That's a lot to bring, isn't it?" I said.

"Just a few things for the next couple of months," he replied, "it saves
me having to go back for stuff."

Fair enough, I thought. I showed him the spare bedroom which was only
just smaller than mine. I had commissioned an interior designer mate of
mine to decorate and furnish the place before I moved in, so Paul's room
had never been used and he could just move his stuff straight in.
"What a lovely apartment," Paul said as he came back out of his room.
"Did you do the design?"

"God, no," I said. "If it had been left to me, I would have gone
straight to Ikea and bought everything there."

Paul smiled and said, "Well, whoever did it has very nice taste."

I looked around and saw it in a new light, and I guess it did look
pretty nice. It was a conversion and my friend had left as many original
features as possible but had brought the entire apartment up to date
with modern furniture mixed in with a few older pieces I had inherited
when my parents moved to Australia.

"OK," said Paul, "let's get the schedule organised shall we?"

Paul turned out to be very efficient, and it was obvious he had done
this kind of work before. Before long we had a working schedule laid out
for meals and physio sessions, which would be twice a day to begin with.
I could just about move around in the wheelchair but I would need help
with showering and the toilet at least for a while. This was the part I
wasn't looking forward to, but I thought I would just have to grin and
bear it.

"OK, what do you normally do for lunch?" Paul asked.

"Pie and a pint at the pub, usually," I said grumpily.

He laughed and said, "Well, that might have to wait for a bit but let's
see what we can rustle up."

Lisa, my old girlfriend, had ordered a whole load of groceries from an
online service and had been here the previous day to receive the
delivery, and to pay the guy a big tip for dragging it all up the stairs
to the top floor. She is pretty good looking, though, so she has men
eating out of her hand, me included while we were dating.

"Is a croque monsieur and some soup OK?" Paul called out from the
kitchen.

"Sure, sounds good," I called back.

Paul brought it through on a tray complete with a bottle of lager. God
bless Lisa, she had gotten her priorities right. I pushed myself over
the window so I could at least look at something while I ate and took
the tray onto my lap. Paul had made himself a small salad and sat at the
table to eat.

"At least you have something to look at," Paul said, nodding at the
windows.

"Yea, better than daytime television I guess." I said, sulking a bit,
realising this was probably going to be my world for the next few weeks.
We finished lunch, Paul cleared away, and we started on our first physio
session. I wheeled myself into the bedroom, and Paul helped lift me out
of the chair onto the bed. He managed that with ease and I began to
realise his smallish stature belied his real strength. I was wearing an
old loose t-shirt and sweatpants as they were the only things I could
manage at the moment. Paul carefully removed the t-shirt and then the
sweat pants. His hands were very soft I noticed and very well-manicured.
I even thought his nails had some clear varnish on them.

From the first moment he laid hands on me I could tell how good a
masseur he was. His hands were strong and gentle. He was working some
kind of magic on me as he carefully went through a whole set of
exercises that the hospital had devised for me. I have to admit I felt
so much better after the session.

"Where did you train, Paul? You have wonderful hands" I said.

"I trained as a physio here in London for three years after school and
then went travelling. I did the backpacker thing; India, Nepal, Bali,
Australia and onto Thailand. I loved it there and travelled all over the
country. Got to Bangkok and ran out of money. I worked as a masseur
there for a while, learning their techniques and eventually made my way
back to London."

I wondered about him working as a masseur in Bangkok and what that might
have entailed. Paul chatted away about his time travelling and how much
he had enjoyed Bangkok. It was a city I had always wanted to get to but
had never got round to visiting. He was easy to talk to; probably I
realised because he was a good listener, a skill that must have come in
very useful in this job.

He got me back into my t-shirt and sweatpants and wheeled me back into
the living room. I had my Apple laptop on the desk in front of the
window so I could do some work from home. It also gave me the chance to
look at what was going on outside the window. The windows were floor to
ceiling and I could see most of the courtyard and a lot of the three
other blocks. It was a mixed development with some shops on the ground
floor, mostly artisan stuff; bread, cheese, delicatessen, organic
produce, a wine shop, and the ubiquitous coffee shop in one corner. The
first floor was let out as office space and the top two floors as
apartments. The planning authorities had specified to the developers
that they couldn't install elevators as it was a listed building so, it
became literally a walk up.

Paul had made some tea, and we sat looking out of the window as I
explained the history of the place. I told him that families were split
up once they came into the workhouse with men, women and c***dren unable
to see each other. Living conditions were deliberately kept bad to deter
others from becoming destitute, and harsh punishments were handed out
for trivial offences such as swearing. The food was so poor that the
inmates were probably on a slow starvation diet.

"Those poor people," Paul said, "we can be so intolerant. I know all
this has changed," and swept his arm across the view outside, "but we
still don't accept people for who they are."

He said this softly but with such passion I had to turn and look at him.
He blinked once or twice, turned away and said he would leave me alone
for the afternoon.

In addition to being a wonderful masseur, Paul turned out to be a very
capable cook. Lisa was coming by this evening as a kind of one-woman
housewarming. I asked Paul if he could cook for three tonight and he
said it would be no problem.

Lisa barged in about 6 o'clock and having kissed me on the cheek,
started on about how she had warned me so many times about that bloody
motorbike and that I never listened to her and when was I going to find
a woman and settle down because the clock was running and I wasn't
getting any younger and yes I was very handsome but there is no time
like the present... She could as usual have gone on like that all night
if she hadn't noticed Paul standing quietly at the kitchen door. I
called him over and introduced them to each other.

"Paul, this extraordinary force of nature and well known windbag is
Lisa, an ex of mine who is now happily married with three lovely
bambinos, and Lisa, this is Paul my carer. Actually, no I can't call you
that. I know, he's my new BFF."

Paul laughed and shook hands with Lisa and said, "Pleased to meet you
Lisa,"

Lisa said, "Likewise, Paul, and don't take any crap from this man, he's
impossible, I should know."

Paul smiled, a big natural smile that lit up his face and said, "Oh,
he's just perfect I think. If you would excuse me I have to go check on
dinner."

As Paul walked off to the kitchen Lisa watched him go and then turned to
me, pulled a face and said, "EEuw that put me down didn't it."

"Stop it," I said, "he's just doing his job,"

"Hmm, well I have to tell you he’s very pretty.” She cast a look towards
the kitchen and said, “He pings my gaydar too, you know."

"What? Don't be daft Lisa. He’s a carer, it doesn't make him gay.”

"Daft? You know I'm just a big fag hag don't you."

"Bugger off and get us a drink, will you?"

"Poor choice of words my sweet." she moved off to get me a scotch and
herself a gin and tonic. She stuck her head through the kitchen door and
asked Paul if he wanted anything. He asked for some sparkling water and
Lisa sorted us all out with drinks. Lisa and I had been an item for
about a year and I never really knew why, but we just drifted apart and
one day we realised it would be better if we went our separate ways.
Strangely enough we became good friends afterwards, and even when she
married her Italian banker we kept in close touch. She had been and
still was a stunning looking woman and I sometimes regretted not trying
harder back then. She is also great company and soon had me laughing
with some of her very dirty jokes.

Paul had made a beautiful spaghetti alle vongole with a salad and a
homemade tiramisu for dessert. The three of us sat up at the dining
table after closing the blinds to the outside. Paul had found my
grandmother's silver candlesticks which I had forgotten about, and the
light from the candles helped to create a wonderful ambience around the
table.

Paul’s food was delicious and time passed quickly. Lisa would as usual
hardly shut up, and I watched Paul as he listened to one of Lisa's
monologues with rapt attention. In fact, he looked as if he might be
falling for her. Lisa looked at her watch and announced she had to go
because Paolo, her Italian husband, was babysitting tonight and he was
so untrustworthy with the c***dren.

"Lisa, that's scandalous, Paolo is a wonderful father and you know it."
He was too, totally devoted to Lisa and their c***dren.

"Hmph," was all she said as she stood up. Paul went to fetch her coat
and Lisa hissed to me, "when you're finished with him, can I have him
please? He'll make someone a perfect wife."

I threw my napkin at her as Paul arrived with her coat. "Paul, thank you
for tonight, you are delightful, if you'll allow me to say so, and you
two make a lovely couple."

I laughed but caught sight of Paul who had gone pink. Lisa left after
kissing both of us goodbye and it was like a summer storm had come and
gone. Paul cleared up the dishes, made coffee, and we sat and chatted a
little.

Paul said, "I really like your friend Lisa, she's so much fun. She
reminds me of Grace Kelly, you know before she got married to Prince
whatshisface."

"What?" I said, nearly choking on my coffee. "She’s lovely, but Grace
Kelly, I can't see it."

There was a sparkle in Paul's eye and I thought that Lisa had made one
more conquest. One last task remained to be achieved this evening. Paul
pushed me through to the wet room and helped me onto the toilet in the
corner. I was damned if I was going to use their bloody commode. We
managed to do this without too many dramas and Paul diplomatically left
the room as I did what I had to.

I called him back in and he helped me back into the chair and off to the
bedroom. I have always slept naked, except in hospital where I had to
wear one of their horrible gowns. Paul got me onto the bed and helped me
off with my t-shirt and pants. I thought it would be more embarrassing
to have a man do this but with Paul there was a strength and gentleness
that was reassuring and unthreatening.

"Good night Paul and thank you."

"You're welcome Jeff and don't forget to use the monitor if you need
me." He had brought with him a baby monitor so I could call for help if
I needed it.

I was glad to be back in my own bed and partly because of that, and
despite, or maybe because of the wine and Scotch I had drunk, I slept
well and woke refreshed and ready for the day. Paul was already up and I
could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. I am not human before I have
had a couple of cups of coffee in the morning, so this was very welcome.
Paul knocked on the door and brought me in a mug of black coffee,
putting in on the side table. He had changed into what I assumed was his
professional working outfit of white trousers and a loose tunic.

"Is black how you like it?"

"Perfect, Paul, thanks. What's on the schedule today?"

"I suggest you finish your coffee and then should we get you cleaned up
before physio?"

"OK, but I have to confess this is the bit that I'm not looking forward
to."

I was not allowed to shower myself so a wash was all I was allowed for a
while.

Paul said gently, "I understand, but I have done this many times and it
will be quick and I will try not to be embarrassed." He said this with a
straight face.

"No, I mean I will be emb..." I saw him laughing, and I grinned
sheepishly, but it had broken the tension.

We got me into my dressing gown and made the short wheelchair ride to
the wet room. With Paul's help, I managed to sit on a stool and after
getting rid of the dressing gown Paul proceeded to wash me with a
professional efficiency. The problem was that being washed by someone
else is for me a very sensual experience. I had once been entertained by
a Japanese client to a so called geisha bath and had been bathed by a
beautiful Japanese girl. That was undoubtedly one of the most erotic
experiences I have ever had.

Paul was very gentle and the combination of his soft hands and the warm
water called up memories of Japan and my cock decided to remember it
too. It began to harden and there was no way I could really hide it. I
was beetroot red but Paul didn't seem to notice. It was while he was
drying my back that I asked him, "Do you mind doing this, Paul?"
He paused and then said, "It's part of the job really, and sometimes
with clients it's not a nice experience but with some clients it can be
enjoyable."

I was watching his face in the mirror as he spoke and I could see faint
pink spots on his cheeks as he continued to towel me dry. I also noticed
he had a small diamond stud in each ear. I tried to remember if I had
noticed that last night but I couldn't recall seeing them.

"I hope you don't mind, Jeff, but I have put my wash gear on the shelf
in here, if you wish I can keep them in my room?"

"No, that's fine, Paul. Please consider this your home while you're
here."

"Jeff, thank you, that's very sweet of you."

We fell into an easy routine, Paul would make breakfast then take me for
a wash, it still gave me an erection, but he didn't seem to pay
attention to it. We started with a physio session, coffee, and then I
would spend time on the laptop or staring out the window. Lunch was
followed by another physio session, tea, then work or a 'staring out the
window’ break, and then dinner. Paul was a great cook and twice cooked
me Thai meals which were fabulous. He had learnt to cook in Thailand and
loved the food. He had a dream of going back there sometime, maybe even
to live. He said that the Thai’s were much tolerant of differences than
we were in the West. He was also good company and he would sit with me
and chat about his life and what he enjoyed doing. He was an amateur
actor in his spare time and had dreamt of turning professional but the
chance had never really come along.

One morning I was looking out through the window and he asked me what I
watched.

"It's a bit like a human zoo out there, I guess. Look down there, for
example." I pointed to an office on the first floor. A man was just
pulling the blinds, and a girl was standing just behind him. "I think
they are having an affair as every day they come into this room at this
time. He closes the blinds and half an hour later he opens them again,
and she is trying to straighten her dress. Or that apartment over there.
There's a guy who practices the violin every day and ends up crying
about something. That one on the second floor, she’s had a pole
installed and does a pole dance warm up routine every afternoon,
generally wearing very little. Or the place opposite, the couple in
there seem to be fighting all the time, but I haven't seen her for a few
days. Maybe he's done away with her.”

Paul laughed, “As you said, who needs daytime TV?”

“And on the first floor over there’s a guy who does stretches in front
of his window."

“What's wrong with that?” asked Paul.

“Nothing, except he does them naked.”

Paul smiled and said, "Of course, not everything is what it seems."
"Yes, you're right, Paul. We don't really know what goes on behind
closed doors do we."

For some reason he blushed as I said that.

I quickly came to appreciate our twice daily physio sessions. Of course,
some of it was pure agony as he stretched and pulled and iced me to keep
my muscles and joints supple and working as they should. Even those
exercises were made bearable by the feel of his soft strong hands
stroking and kneading my aching muscles. I rapidly began to look forward
to those sessions as the highlight of my day. He promised one day to
give me an authentic Thai massage but as that could be very tough it
should wait for a while.

I noticed that it wasn't just his hands that were soft, he never seemed
to show any sign of beard growth and his skin seemed to be in perfect
condition. His hair he kept in a ponytail but one day he came out of the
wet room while I was wheeling myself to the kitchen, with his hair
hanging down and he looked transformed. It framed and softened his
features and I could see what Lisa had said about him being pretty.
Lisa had popped in briefly a couple of evenings for a quick drink, and
Paul visibly brightened when she was around. I thought that he was
getting a big crush on her and when he was in the kitchen getting our
drinks I told her so.

"Oh brother," she said, "you really don't know what's going on, do you?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, but Paul walked back in and Lisa just
rubbed my shoulder as if in sympathy.

Paul had his first day off on the sixth day he was with me. He had
arranged for a relief carer to come in after breakfast and then he would
be back later that night ready to start again the following morning. We
had our usual breakfast of fruit, coffee and toast as he waited for the
relief to arrive, before heading out the door carrying one of his
suitcases. Just going to drop off a few things, he said. See you
tomorrow morning.

The relief was a disaster. He thought of caring as more of a military
assault course, barking out orders to me and treating me as some kind of
obstacle that had to be attacked, surrounded and defeated. The physio
sessions were agony. How this guy was tolerated as a carer I have no
idea. He completely ignored my wishes, not that he actually asked me
what they were. It was his way or the highway as far as he was
concerned. As the day wore on in increasing amounts of frustration, I
realised how much I missed Paul; his conversation, his smile, his soft
hands and his caring personality were things that I had come to value.
At the end of the day I was praying for it to end so that Paul would be
back. As I lay on my bed, unable to sleep after a horrible day, my mind
started to spin. Why did I miss Paul so much? Was it just because of a
rough day with someone new?

A startling thought popped into my head. I know some patients fall in
love with their nurses, is that what's happening to me? I shook my head
and thought, no, I'm not gay, I can't be, I like women too much.
Is Paul gay? Lisa had put that idea none too subtly into my mind and I
really didn't know. Did it make any difference, anyway? He was doing a
great job, so why would it matter? I thought it must be just that at a
really low ebb I was fixating on the one person showing me some care and
attention.

I heard the outside door to the apartment open which must have been Paul
returning. I felt a huge surge of relief at the thought of him being
back and I fell asleep almost immediately. It must have been about 2
o'clock in the morning when I awoke for some reason. My leg was aching
badly after the physio from Mister bloody Motivator and I knew that I
had to get a painkiller or I would not get back to sleep. I realised
with disgust that the bloody relief had left the tablets and a glass of
water just out of my reach. The baby monitor was on; its light blinking
in the darkness. I could call for Paul but I should be able to do this
for myself, for God's sake.

I bum shifted myself across the bed towards the table and reached out
for the tablets when I overbalanced and fell out of the bed. It wasn't a
long drop, but I fell awkwardly and it felt as if I had been stabbed in
the leg with a red hot poker.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I heard myself saying. I needed Paul now. "Paul, can
you come? I need some help." I shouted.

Paul rushed into my room and said, "Shit, what have you managed to do
Jeff?"

"Fell on the bloody floor. What's it bloody look like?"

Paul ignored my sarcasm and calmly said, "OK, let's get you back up and
see what damage has been done."

Paul bent at the knees to get his arms under my shoulders to lift me
back on the bed and as his face came close to mine, I suddenly noticed a
touch of colour around his eyelids that looked like eye shadow that had
not been cleaned off properly, and there was, I'm sure, also just the
hint of lipstick in the corner of his mouth. My eyes widened and I'm
sure he noticed my reaction, but all he did was to lift me effortlessly
back up and onto the bed.

Paul quickly checked, and it didn't seem that anything bad had happened,
apart from a severely bruised ego that is. He fetched me a painkiller
and the glass of water, covered me with the duvet and stood looking at
me for a moment. He was wearing pajamas and as he bent over to pull the
duvet up, even in the dim light I swear I could see a hint of lace as
his pajama top gaped open a fraction.

"Are you OK now?" he asked gently.

"Sure, thank you for getting me up so quickly. No harm done I think.
I'll be a lot more careful in the future."

"OK, well I'll see you in the morning Jeff, good night."

"good night, and thank you, Paul." I hesitated and said, "Paul?"

"Yes Jeff?"

"Oh, nothing really, it can wait. G’night." I would save that for later.
"Sure Jeff."

I woke the next morning sore and angry with myself. How stupid had I
been? I could really have seriously set back my recovery. After I
finished feeling deeply sorry for myself, I remembered what I had seen
when Paul came into my room last night. Had I really seen it, or was it
a trick of the light and confusion because of the pain I was feeling?
No, I was sure of what I had seen. There had been traces of makeup on
his face and he had been wearing something lacy beneath his pajamas.
Oh shit, I thought. What's going on? He must be gay, for sure. At that
moment Paul knocked and came in with a coffee.

"Jeff, I thought that after your night time adventure we should skip
this morning's physio session and see how you feel this afternoon?"
"Sure, Paul, if you think that's the right thing." I was a bit harsh,
and he looked at me oddly for a moment and then left the room. Paul
returned a little later to get me out of bed for my morning wash. I
became much more aware of his proximity when he helped me out of bed and
into my robe. I was dreading the next step which was to get me washed.
For the first time I was able to get out of my robe and to sit on the
stool unaided.

Paul then began to wash me and I said, "Can I try please, Paul?"
Paul handed me the washcloth and stood back as I struggled to wash
myself. I dropped the cloth and angrily said, "Shit, bugger, arse."

Paul picked up the cloth and asked. "OK if I do it, Jeff?"

I nodded, not looking at him and he started. As usual the combinations
of his hands and the gentle feel of the washcloth across my skin had my
cock hardening within seconds. I tried everything that would keep me
from thinking about what he was doing but to no avail. My cock was only
interested in its own pleasure, not its owner’s embarrassment. I went a
deep red and Paul just kept washing and making it even worse. I thought,
he's enjoying this, making me have this reaction.

I said, "That's enough Paul, can we finish now?"

"Whatever you want Jeff."

He dried me off and then with my robe on he wheeled me into the living
room to the desk. I opened up the Apple and started hammering away at
the keys trying to get rid of my frustration. What was up with me, I
knew he was gay and there I was getting an erection in front of him
because he was touching me. God, what a mess. I couldn't think straight;
why did I feel differently now I thought he was gay? He had never been
anything else but professional towards me and had not tried anything on.
Oh that's fucking stupid, I thought, why does every straight bloke think
a gay guy is planning to grope him at the first opportunity. Paul had
many opportunities to do something, but he had not. I really liked Paul
before this happened and I missed him a lot when he was away. Was I
secretly attracted to him? Is that why I got an erection? Hell, this was
so confusing. I had ended up behaving like a complete jerk this morning
and I didn't know what to think.

Paul came in with coffee and laid it next to me on the desk. I didn't
look up.

"Jeff, is there something wrong? Have I done something?" a simple
question with a complicated answer. I didn't say anything.
"You seem very upset with me."

I grunted and thought, I have to say something, this is c***dish of me.
I turned round and looked up at him. He looked worried.

"Paul, last night when you came in to get me up off the floor, I could
see traces of makeup on your face. Are you gay?"

His face dropped, and he sat down and put his face in his hands.

"I thought you might not have noticed. Oh God, I'm sorry, I'll call the
office and get a replacement for me and I'll pack and leave today." He
looked as if he was going to cry. I felt something lurch in my chest.

"Paul, please just answer the question." I asked softly, and I hoped,
gently.

He looked at me and said, "do you really want me to?"

I nodded.

He looked out of the window, took a deep breath and said, "If you want
to look it that way, I guess I am. Have been since I was thirteen.
Satisfied?"

"And the makeup, Paul?"

He shrugged and said, "Doesn't matter, I'm leaving anyway."

"Paul, please tell me, I want to know."

He was still looking away and then as if a barrier had fallen he started
to speak.

"Not only did I know I was different at thirteen, I felt drawn to
women's clothes. First my mum's stuff, and then my sister's. I got
caught, of course, and gave it up for a while, but it's like a d**g. No,
that's not quite right, it's like you know this is what is right for
you, and you keep getting the urge to go back to it. Mum sent me for
treatment but that didn't work. When I went to college it was bliss, I
could finally do what I had wanted to and dressed regularly." He paused,
his mind obviously back in the past.

"I didn't want to dress full-time; I was happiest when I could choose
who I wanted to be. I wasn't sure whether I was gay or bi-sex at that
time. I liked men and women but felt more and more drawn sexually to
men. You would not believe the number of straight men who like to go
with a guy in a skirt." I felt myself blush, but he wasn't looking at
me.

"I've been the same ever since, I act pretty straight, I think, but I
really like to dress whenever I can given the limitations of my job." He
stopped and looked across at me. "Don't worry, I will go, no problem,
but believe it or not I have really enjoyed looking after you, and I
think you did too. So, if that's the case will you please not tell the
company what I have just told you?"

"One more question, please, Paul. What about last night?"

His shoulders dropped, and he looked away again, "Well, I've told you
everything else, so why not? On my days and nights off I go out dressed
for the day, I can pass as a woman pretty well. I'll go to a club or a
bar where I can be myself with others like me. That's where I was last
night, I was too tired to clean my makeup off properly. I hoped you
hadn't noticed, but I knew by the way you reacted this morning you had."
He stood and went to go back to his room.

"Paul, please sit down," I said in as neutral a voice as I could muster.
He looked at me and then sat down again. I knew I should ask him to go.

"Paul, thank you for being so honest with me. You're right, I have
enjoyed you being here and I couldn't ask for someone to take better
care of me than you. I admit it was a shock last night, and I didn't
deal with it well this morning. I apologise to you for that." I took a
deep breath. "And I don't want you to leave; I would like you to stay if
you feel OK about it."

He looked at me trying to see if this was a trap, "Jeff, are you sure?"
He seemed to be near to tears.

"Yes, Paul, I mean it, will you please stay?" I smiled to show him I
meant it.

"Jeff, oh yes, I would love to stay, If it's alright with you. Thank
you." I could see his eyes glisten and he wiped away a tear. "I won't
let what happened last night occur again, I promise."

"Paul, I really don't mind what you do. It's your life; you should live
it as it you want." He was on the edge of tears again.

"Thank you Jeff, this means a lot to me."

I asked him, "Do you have a name for when you, you know, are dressed?"

He looked very shy when I asked and said hesitantly, "It's Paula, not
very creative, but it's easy to remember."

My heart was beating fast as I asked the next question, "Can I meet
Paula?" Where the hell did that come from I thought to myself.
He stood dead still, I think, fearing I was having him on. "Jeff, do you
mean that?"

I nodded, my voice getting a little thick as I said, "Yes, I would like
to. How about tonight? Would Paula like to come to dinner?"

A big smile spread across his face, "I'll have to check with her first,
but I'm sure Paula would love to come to dinner with you."

"There's just one thing," I said, my face and voice deadly serious, "Can
I get a fresh cup of coffee, please?"

Paul collapsed in giggles and said, "Coffee coming right up, sir."

The day passed quickly, Paul was his usual professional self and after
lunch I felt fit enough for a physio session. This was the first session
after this morning's confession and Paul seemed a little hesitant in his
massage but he seemed to relax as he sensed I was not at all concerned.
His hands and fingers soon had their usual reaction, and I almost fell
asleep at one point.

It gave me time to think. Why had I asked for Paula to come to dinner?
Curiosity, I thought, I wanted to see him as his other self. I thought
about him growing-up and how confused he must have been. Even now to
have a c***d come out at that age must be difficult for parents to
handle, and the dressing must have made it extra tough. I couldn't
imagine the struggles he must have gone through with others and himself.
I thought that he seemed to have grown into his skin pretty well. Was I
worried about tonight? Yes, I was a bit nervous that he would look like
a bloke in drag but I would have to deal with that if it happened. I was
comfortable with Paul and I hoped I would be equally so with Paula.

The session finished, Paul wheeled me back to the desk with a cup of
tea. I had a brainwave and suggested that instead of Paul, or Paula,
cooking tonight we should order a takeaway. Paul frowned and asked if I
didn't like his cooking. I laughed and said that I loved it but it would
be better if I met Paula tonight without her having to cook too. He
eventually agreed, and I ordered from my usual Indian takeaway.

Paul left me alone after that and we agreed that dinner would be at
eight, with a drink at 7.30. I did some work for the rest of the
afternoon and then watched some mind numbing TV for a while. I was
nervous and I couldn't imagine what Paul must be feeling. At 7.30 I was
doing some people watching through the window as I heard the door to
Paul's room open.

"OK, I guess I'm ready." The voice was somehow Paul's and then not
Paul's at the same time.

I turned the chair round fearing for the worst and my mouth dropped
open. What confronted me was not a bloke in drag but a beautiful woman.
If Paul was weedy as a man, he was just gorgeous as a woman. Holy shit,
I thought.

"Well, what do you think? I'm Paula, by the way."

I realised I still had my mouth open and closed it rapidly. "Hi, I'm
Jeff and I'm very pleased to meet you Paula. You're absolutely gorgeous.

Oh, I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have said that, but you are."

Paula blushed and murmured, "Thank you. I scrub up alright, Can I get
you a drink?"

"Scotch please, better make it a large one."

It gave me a chance to look at Paula properly. Her hair was hanging
loose over her shoulders and she was wearing what I guessed was called a
little black dress. It was sleeveless, with a vee neck, and fell to
about six inches above her knees and absolutely hugged her figure. My
God, she actually has a figure, I thought, and her legs were to die for.
She was wearing a small gold chain round her neck with a locket, drop
earrings, a gold bracelet on one wrist and a tiny watch on the other.
She had on dark tights and some very expensive looking black heels. I
just couldn't believe my eyes and I could feel a stirring in my trousers
caused by what I was seeing, and I had to shift in the chair as I was
getting uncomfortable.

Paula turned round with our drinks and she came across and sat on the
sofa opposite me and crossed her legs. The action made the hem of her
dress ride up her thigh, and if I wasn't uncomfortable before, I surely
was now.

"Well, what do you think, Jeff?" She looked anxious, almost dreading
what I might say.

I took a moment to compose myself, then smiled broadly and said, "Paula,
if I wasn't seeing you with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it. I mean
you are stunning."

"Thank you, that's very sweet of you to say so. I was so nervous getting
ready tonight, I thought I might have overdone it."

Her makeup was light, but she had used it to highlight her eyes and
mouth. I think she had plucked her eyebrows because there was a more
defined arch to them tonight. She had used eye shadow that drew your
attention to her eyes and she had on a light pink lipstick that made her
mouth look very kissable. God, did I just think that? At that moment
Paula ran her hand back through her hair and that nearly did for me.
It's a gesture that gets me every time when a woman does it. The
stirring had definitely become much more than that.

Luckily, the door buzzer went and Paula walked across to the intercom
and buzzed in the delivery guy with the food. I watched her as she
walked across to the door and there was no trace of masculinity in her
stride or bearing. She looked as feminine as could be.

Paula returned with the food and sorted out plates and cutlery and we
tucked in at the table. I asked her to open a bottle of red wine and she
came back with two glasses. She said she wouldn't normally on a school
night as she put it but it might settle her nerves a bit. I told her she
shouldn't be nervous; I was delighted to be having dinner with such a
beautiful lady. She tipped her head and looked at me out of the corner
of her eye and said thank you and that she appreciated it.

The wine relaxed us both, and we were soon laughing and joking just as
Paul and I did. From time to time I caught a glimpse of Paul in her but
it was obvious that Paula was an individual and much, much more than
Paul in a dress. She talked about when she was in Bangkok getting some
cosmetic work done; smoothing her Adam's apple and some implants on her
hips. She had taken hormones for many years but was now happy with what
they had achieved so took a lower dose these days. She pushed her chest
out and said quite proudly that they were entirely natural. I had
already noticed she had boobs and asked how she kept them hidden as
Paul.

Easy, she said, they are not big enough to make it a real problem under
the loose tunic Paul wore as long as she bound them up in the morning.
Same with the hips, it doesn't notice in the work outfit either.
Eventually, she stood and said it's late and we still had to get me
ready for bed. Even that coming from Paula sounded very different.
"Jeff, I want to thank you for letting me do this, and for the way you
have made me feel this evening. You have been fabulous."

She stood and moved over to me, squatted beside the chair and gave me a
kiss on the cheek. I could smell her perfume and as she moved back from
the kiss, she paused and we looked into each other's eyes. I felt my
heart flip and suddenly this wild thought flashed into my head that all
I had to do was move a little closer and kiss her, but I just coughed
and said you're welcome and it had been an enjoyable pleasure. She
dipped her head once more and pecked me again on the cheek.

She wheeled me to the wet room, and I was now getting much better at
sorting this out by myself. I could feel myself healing now and the
collar bone seemed to be getting much easier. Paula wheeled me into the
bedroom and helped me off with my t-shirt and then pulled off the sweat
pants. Needless to say being put to bed by Paula was very different to
being put to bed by Paul. I had a definite erection which Paula could
not have failed to notice. She pulled the cover up and leant forward to
give me one more kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks Jeff, you are wonderful, do you know that?"

She left the room leaving me to think about the sight of her small
uncontained breasts through the vee of her dress as she had leant over
me.

The next morning Paul woke me with the usual cup of coffee dressed in
his work tunic and trousers. There was no sign of Paula from the
previous evening. The first hurdle was to get washed. I was moving much
more freely now and managed to walk from the chair to the stool. I still
didn't trust myself to wash properly so Paul took the cloth. Something
had changed after yesterday and the washing still felt as good as ever,
but I felt no reaction as I had in previous days. All I could think of
was that I wished it was Paula doing the washing.

We sat and drank coffee and watched what was happening outside the
windows. The violinist was practicing and wiping his eyes, the guy in
the office drew the blinds one more time and the husband who argued with
his wife was wheeling a large trunk into their apartment.

"Paul, do you mind me asking you a couple of questions? I mean about you
and Paula?"

He looked at me, obviously considering how to answer. "OK, I'll answer
what I can. If I think it's inappropriate, I’ll say so."

"Do you prefer living as Paul or Paula?"

"Easy one," he said. "Both.”

I must have looked puzzled, because he went on. “OK, I like my
professional life to be as Paul and after work I like to become Paula.
It would make it difficult to work as Paula unless I wanted to
transition completely and I don't want to do that, at least not at the
moment."

"So you, er, still have, um, you know..."

He laughed, "Yes, Jeff, I have a penis, and it still works, I think that
was your next question."

I turned red and said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't answer these questions for everyone, but I
think I can trust you, so I will. I don't want to lose my penis; I enjoy
it for giving and receiving pleasure."

I went a deeper shade of red. Paul didn't seem to notice.

“You remember when I asked you the first time if you were gay? You said
something about if I wanted to say it that way. What did you mean by
that?”

Paul paused, deciding whether to answer. He hesitated, then said, ‘It's
a bit difficult, Jeff, it’s taken me a long time to work it out for
myself, but I’ll try to explain. I don't think of myself as male or
female exclusively. I mean I feel comfortable as Paul, and as Paula. I’m
not bi-sexual, so as Paul, I’m more asexual than anything, but as Paula,
I am strongly attracted to men. So, to answer your question, no, I don’t
think of myself as gay, it's more complicated, more fluid than just
being gay, or straight, or even bi-sexual. Does that make any sense?”

I thought for a moment and nodded. “I think so, Paul.”

We were both quiet for a while, looking out through the glass. A cock
pigeon was following a hen along the window sill with his chest all
puffed up, but she was definitely playing hard to get. We both started
to giggle watching them as the cock got increasingly frustrated before
falling off the window sill and flying away. As we laughed I turned to
Paul, “You know if Paula wants to visit again she'll be perfectly
welcome to, anytime. I liked her company last night."

This time, he can't have missed the blush that seemed to cover me.
He smiled and looked me in the eyes, "Jeff, that's nice, I think she
would like that a lot."

Paula did indeed appear that night; she was dressed casually this time
in tight jeans, a white fitted shirt and short boots. Her hair was up in
a ponytail but this time tied high on the head and with a bright red
scrunchie holding it in place. Her makeup was light but still managed
to highlight her eyes and those kissable lips. I couldn't now think of
her lips without mentally adding the word kissable to them.

We had a nice evening, Paula cooked pasta, and I had half a bottle of
Chianti and Paula had a glass. Getting to bed was getting to be a lot
easier as well. I could now get onto the bed myself but Paula still had
to slip off my sweat pants. She pulled up the covers and leant forwards
to give me a kiss. It seemed natural for Paula to do this. This time
though she hesitated for a heartbeat and then kissed me on the lips. The
touch of her lips on mine was electrifying. She pulled back and
anxiously scanned my face, fearing she had gone too far. I smiled up at
her raised my head and kissed her on the lips.

I said "G'night Paula," and settled down happily.

"good night Jeff, sweet dreams."

In the morning I felt better than I had since before the accident. I
managed to roll myself over and get from the bed to the wheelchair
without falling over. Real progress I thought.

The next few days passed in the same way. Paul looked after me by day
and Paula appeared in the evening. I was becoming increasingly aware of
my attraction to Paula. We would kiss good night and she would disappear
off to her bedroom and reappear as Paul the next morning. I found myself
looking forward more and more to seeing Paula appear in the evening. It
became the highlight of my day when she would appear from her bedroom,
and we would spend the evenings like a couple, debating which movie to
watch after dinner or talking about the goings on outside the window. I
would catch myself looking over to her and wondering why I felt so happy
when she was here.

I was definitely making great strides in my recuperation. The daily
massages and exercises were becoming less painful, and day by day I was
becoming far more mobile. I was still heavily dependent on Paul though,
but I could see a time when I wouldn't need him as a carer and that made
me feel miserable. Lisa had texted that she was going to drop round the
following evening and when I told Paul he seemed happy enough but there
was something bothering him.

"What is it? I thought you liked Lisa, I even thought you fancied her
for a while."

He laughed and said, "I don't fancy her, but she is the kind of woman I
would like to be, well not actually be, but she is so funny and
beautiful and full of energy."

I stared at him and said without thinking, "If it was a choice between
Paula and Lisa, I would choose Paula every time."

Paul stood stock still and said very carefully, "Jeff, be careful what
you say. You should only say things you really mean."

I looked him in the eyes and said, "I mean it, and I will show you, why
doesn't Paula meet Lisa tomorrow night?"

"You can't be serious, Jeff."

"I am serious, I would be proud to be seen with Paula, anywhere, with
anyone." I was talking wildly, but I knew I meant it.

Paul looked long and hard at me and said, "OK, if that's what you want,
Jeff, but I warn you, you have more to lose than me."

Later that night after we had finished dinner at the table, and Paula
was about to clear away, I reached over and took her hand. She looked at
my hand holding hers and then back to me.

"Jeff, please be sensible. You can't mean this."

I pulled her over towards me, "Paula, will you please kiss me?"

She hesitated and then dropped my hand and ran to her room. If I could I
would have kicked myself. You stupid numbskull, blockhead, jackass,
fool, you idiot. I called myself every name under the sun.

I managed to get myself to the toilet and then into bed by myself. I
would have cheered if it weren't for what had happened earlier. I had
turned the lights off and had settled down when I heard the door open
and a chink of light flashed before the door was closed. I felt the
covers being lifted and Paula slipped in beside me. Oh my God, I
thought, this is it.

"Jeff, do you still want that kiss?"

"Oh yes, I do."

She covered my lips with hers and she pushed her tongue past my lips. I
kissed her back and her hands went round my head and we mashed our lips
together. She broke the kiss, sat up straight and lifted off her short
nightdress and placed my hands on her breasts. They felt small, but the
nipples hardened immediately under my touch. She bent down to kiss me
again and my tongue this time pushed past her lips. Our tongues dueled
as I continued to play with her breasts. She moaned as I tweaked her
nipple which made her move up towards me and she pushed her nipple into
my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the hard nub and nipped it with my
teeth. She made a purring noise like a cat and slid the other nipple
into my mouth. I winced as I moved a little too quickly but managed to
give this nipple the same treatment as the other.

My cock was bumping into Paula’s tummy and she licked her hand then
snaked it down between us, wrapping her fingers around the shaft. She
began to rotate her fingers around the head, making me suck in my
breath. She giggled, then kissed me hard on the lips, her tongue lancing
into my mouth. She let go off my cock and her hands found their way to
my nipples and she rolled them between her fingers, then nipped them
between her fingernails, making me moan with pleasure. She bathed the
nipples with her tongue, soothing the pain from her fingernails. It was
the most exquisite feeling. She raised herself up again, and I could see
her looking down at me, trying to work out if I knew what I was doing.
"Are you sure you want this, Jeff? You know what I am and what I've got
don't you?"

I answered by pulling her down into a long and deep kiss.

She broke off and said to me, "I guess I'm going to have to do all the
work here." She giggled, "Jeff, do you know how porcupines make love?"
"No," I said, thoroughly confused.

"Very, very carefully." She replied.

I laughed and then stopped as I felt her mouth envelop my rigid cock.
Paula was a Phd at cocksucking and she took her time; licking, sucking,
nipping and stroking my cock and balls, taking me close to the edge and
then holding me back, each time making me harder and harder. She was
playing with me as her tongue teased and her lips taunted my straining
cock. I couldn’t move so Paula was in total control; it was as if I had
been tied up and only she could decide when I would be allowed the
relief I now craved. Finally, she let me have the release I had been on
the edge of for so long. Paula kept her lips wrapped around me as I
felt my climax surge through me and I erupted into her mouth. She gagged
once and then she must have swallowed. She sucked me dry, let my cock
slip out and slid up the bed to kiss me and I could taste the saltiness
of my cum left on her lips. I flopped back exhausted as she slipped out
of bed saying, "I'll be back, so don't go anywhere." She giggled as she
realised what she had said.

She must have gone to the bathroom because when she returned she smelled
of toothpaste. She came back to bed and lay down beside me. I wanted to
reach out and cuddle her but at the moment that was beyond me. I found
her hand and brought it up to my lips and kissed it.

I whispered, "that was wonderful, Paula"

She touched my face with her fingers, drawing one along my lips and I
sucked it into my mouth. She lay her head on my chest and slid her
fingers across my skin, making me shiver with pleasure.

She said, "We'll have to talk in the morning, Jeff."

With that she kissed me once more, and we just lay together as her
breathing became shallower until eventually she dropped off to sleep. I
lay awake for a while, wondering if I really did know what I was getting
myself into. This was a journey into the unknown for me; there was no
map and no guidebook for where I was going. The last thing I remember
before I too fell asleep was, ‘I never did like maps, anyway.’

I awoke to find myself alone in the bed and I smiled as I smelled coffee
brewing a millisecond before remembering with a rush what had happened
last night. To be honest, my first feeling was embarrassment as I
recalled what had gone on. That was driven out by an intense feeling of
excitement, followed by a dreadful feeling of guilt. I may have slept
with Paula only in the literal sense of the word, if not the other
sense, but there was no getting away from what we had done. We had
kissed, and she had sucked my cock. I went red at the thought of it. Did
that mean I was gay? I tried to tell myself I had slept with Paula, not
Paul. But even I realised that was a distinction without a difference. I
smiled as I remembered how she had made me feel, and I thought,

‘Actually you know what, I don't give a damn.’

Paul knocked as he always did and came in with coffee.

"Morning, Jeff, how are you?"

I grunted something. I told you I am not human without coffee.

"Ok. When you've had your coffee and recovered the power of speech, can
you get yourself out of bed and into the chair?"

"OK, slave driver."

"Let me know and I'll come back to collect you."

How could either of us just not say anything about last night? Are we
going to pretend it never happened? Was it just a one-night stand? I
decided to play it by ear and see what would happen. I struggled a bit
to get out of bed but wheeled myself off to the wet room. I had managed
to shift myself out of the chair and onto the stool when I saw Paul
leaning against the door.

"Aren't you going to help?"

"Looks like you're doing a fine job yourself, Jeff. Do you need any
help?"

"No, probably not."

"Give me a call if you do."

I coped pretty well today and wheeled myself out to the living room
where Paul had laid breakfast. We ate in silence and then both of us
began to speak at the same time. We laughed, and that broke the tension.

"You first," said Paul.

"Lisa," I said.

Paul smiled, "Yes, your lovely ex who is visiting tonight."

"Will you be Paul, or Paula?"

"Who would you like me to be?"

I thought for a moment and I knew I should say, Paul.

"Paula," I said.

"OK but Paula will need a bit more time to compete with a Grace Kelly
lookalike if that's OK?"

I laughed and said, "That's fine, but don't tell her you think she's a
Grace Kelly clone, because she’s unbearable enough as it is."

Paul took himself off to get ready at 5 o'clock with Lisa due at 7. I
amused myself by looking out the window and reading a bit. The man who
argued with his wife looked as if he was giving his apartment a thorough
deep clean. He was wearing rubber gloves, an apron and what looked like
wellington boots as he appeared to be scrubbing the floors.

At 6.45, Paula opened her bedroom door and announced, "Here I come,
ready or not."

She walked out and my heart skipped a beat. This time she had done her
hair like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's and was wearing
another black dress, sleeveless but with a high neckline and a flared
skirt together with the black heels she had worn the first night. She
wore a single string of pearls around her neck and a silver bracelet on
her wrist. I was blown away.

She twirled round, and the skirt filled out, "Will I do?"

"Oh yes, you'll do alright." My pulse began to race and I could feel my
cock swelling.

At that moment the intercom buzzed, and I wheeled over to let Lisa in.
She breezed in through the door like a yacht in full sail and started
talking straight away.

I held up my hand for her to stop.

"Lisa, I would like you to meet my new carer." I motioned to Paula, who
stood up from the chair and walked across to Lisa and shook her hand.
"Pleased to meet you Lisa, I have heard so much about you from Jeff."

Lisa smiled and said, "Likewise. I'm sorry, I didn't catch you name."
"It's Paula."

"Oh, hi Paula, that's a coincidence Jeff's last carer was called Paul.
What happened to hi..." Lisa stopped dead and stared closely at Paula.
"Oh fuck," she said, "It can't be can it? Oh shit, it is, you're Paul."

She sat down, looking shocked. "What the fucking hell is going on,
Jeff?"

"Lisa," I said, "I always told you that you sounded like a truck driver,
you still do."

"Screw that, and you." she said, "I need to know what's going on. And I
need a drink, a stiff one."

Paula went to fetch a gin and tonic and brought me a large Scotch. Lisa
took a huge gulp and looked at me and then Paula.

"My Christ, Paula, you are gorgeous. You look fabulous." Lisa was
recovering fast. "You are one big bastard, Jeff for pulling this on me,
I will never forgive you. Now, will one of you tell me what the hell is
going on?"

I told Lisa about discovering Paul's secret and Paula told her about
growing up and how she became Paula. Lisa was rapt and for once kept
quiet for the whole of the story. As Paula finished Lisa sighed and
leant back in her chair.

"Paula, that's one hell of a story, you must have been through some
rough times." She nodded her head towards me and said, "and this old
bastard over here didn't mind?"

"No, Jeff has been wonderful. I offered to leave but Jeff said no, he
wanted me to stay. He suggested he meet Paula and then he agreed to let
me be Paula when I want. I'm Paul during the day as his carer and then I
can be Paula in the evening."

Lisa looked at me over the top of her glass and raised her eyebrows at
me. I ignored her but knew she wouldn't let it go.

Paula excused herself and headed to the kitchen.

"Well, well, well, what a tangled web we weave. And are you two, you
know, dirty dancing? I mean together?" Lisa was never subtle.

"God, no. I mean it's totally professional and I guess we're friends but
that's it, you dirty minded witch." Even as I said it, I could tell she
didn't believe it.

"I can tell you, I know a whole host of red-blooded men who wouldn't
hesitate to fuck her brains out given half a chance."

I said, "Can I trust you on this, Lisa? This has to be between us, I
me