Xena Versus The Spartans
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If I Told You, Part 6 free porn video
VI.
I don't know about you, but if I thought for a moment that 7th Avenue and
39th Street in Manhattan would be a glamorous place, I must have had
rocks in my head. Oh, I know, a significant portion of the world's most
beautiful clothes and the models who wear them all pass through that
intersection, but there's very little of that glamor left over at the end
of the day. The fashion business had a reputation as a cut-throat
business and since I've been in New York I've seen enough to know that's
true. But I've also seen something else that you don't hear many people
talking about. Those 'unexpected kindnesses and senseless acts of
beauty' or whatever that phrase is, are everywhere. The most secret thing
about New Yorkers, the one they're terrified to reveal to the rest of the
world is that they are some of the kindest, nicest, most generous people
you'll find on the planet. Oh, sure, they're always frantically busy and
everybody seems to be in a dreadful hurry to be someplace else, but don't
be fooled. The kindness, the generosity is there if you open your eyes to
see it.
If there hadn't been such kindness, I wouldn't have survived my first
month at Davis Holland. It took me a couple of weeks before I was settled
in with Jacquie and Christine. Jack, as she preferred to be called, was
an account executive and Christine was in talent development, you know,
getting, keeping, shepherding the models. They had lost their last
roommate and it was a perfect fit for me.
My first days at Davis-Holland were a whirl. The minute I thought that
this was just like the business world I had left back at the Owl & The
Pussycat in New Springfield, I would be reminded that this was, indeed, a
whole new world. People expected a lot of me and that caused me to want
to meet their expectations. This was as true in the photographer's studio
as it was in the business office.
Oh, yes, the modeling. Now don't I sound blas?? Don't be fooled about
this either. At first I felt like the meat in a butcher's window, the
next minute I was getting excited about all the flurry of activity around
me. Now don't get me wrong. You know, all those stories you hear about
how the work of modeling is drudgery and the models nothing but
clotheshorses? Well get real, it's great. Don't let anybody tell you
otherwise. Yes, all the drudgery is there, but come on, you get to wear
fabulous clothes you couldn't dream of ever owning and they make you look
like a goddess. How bad is that? Does it beat working in the Wal Mart?
You don't even have to ask.
As great as it has been, I found myself more and more drawn to the
business side. Davis-Holland models, women and men, were in great demand.
That required a lot of us in the office and it required a great deal of
them. The ones who really made it were not only beautiful, but had brains
in their heads and worked harder than anybody else. And now I'm going to
sound like a broken record. They were, in most cases, really wonderful
people. Oh, you know about the exceptions, but that's what tabloid
newspapers are all about. But trust me on this, if you wanted your
clothes, or whatever it was that you were selling, to look their best,
then you needed models who 'could walk and talk and chew gum at the same
time.' They had to be conscientious, did I mention that?
And yes, in case any of you are still reading this after all this time, I
did continue to work with Tony Di Angelo. This entailed a trip back to
New Springfield every two or three months. I would use these trips to get
together with friends especially the crew at The Owl & The Pussycat, and
of course Penny Thomas. It was important to me for a variety of reasons,
but the most important, I suppose, it was to the place where I had spent
the last years of my adolescence, where my folks were buried. And sad as
that sounds, it really wasn't. The happy memories outweighed the unhappy
ones. My friends at the literacy center, they were part of the reason I
came back, too. But it was Tony, for better or worse, who had launched me
on this phase of my life. Believe me, there was still enough craziness to
get sorted out, and my old friend, Dr. Hansen was there for me when I
needed her. About every three or four months I would set up an
appointment with her for, as one of my friends said, a 'tune-up'. The
transition to my new life as a woman had started in New Springfield and
the ties of friendship and family and long association made these trips
very pleasant for me.
I would get back on the plane to New York and feel energized and somehow
calm at the same time. Lord knows, I needed a dose of reality to keep the
daily hysteria of Manhattan in perspective. That's what New Springfield
was: a dose of reality.
Danny Lanier was gone for good. No, not in the sense of "good riddance,"
but really "for good." I was Sandi Harris now and Danny was a part of me.
There's one thing I haven't mentioned. It's hard to believe that if
you've stuck with me this far it hasn't crossed your mind. "What about
relationships," I hear you screaming, dear reader. Well, I was getting to
that. Let me digress for just a minute. Stay with me, I think you'll see
where this is going.
Since all of this got started almost four years ago, God, it's hard to
believe so much has happened in so short a time, I've done a lot of
reading. It came to me the other day that I had been seeing if there was
anybody out there like me. Of course, nobody is exactly like me, but
that's not the point. What I mean is, is there somebody who's been in a
situation not all that different from mine. What did she do? How did she
react? And so on. There are people, some at any rate, but there are a lot
more who have significantly different experiences. Some are content to
'dress up' now and again, others get a visceral thrill from the idea of
wearing women's clothes, some truly are 'women trapped in men's bodies'.
For this latter group, sex reassignment surgery is a major goal. In none
of these groups, however, does the desire to be a woman or to dress like
one imply a gay orientation nor does any imply a change in sexual
orientation. If one is attracted to women, one tends to stay that way;
similarly if attracted to men, then to stay attracted to men.
You can see where this is leading, can't you? I had been so preoccupied
with getting used to the idea of myself as a woman that I put any thought
of relationships on hold. But that couldn't last. Having never been
anyone else but myself, I find it hard to compare my feelings to anyone
else's. It's just that when I began to emerge from my cocoon, it was
women I found, and find sexually attractive. To any man who may be
reading this let me say that my experience is that the physical
attraction I feel for another woman is made richer, or more complicated
by our both being women, richer than any relationship I had experienced
as a man. No doubt about it, there is a special bond between women.
The important thing about that bond, and all women know this, is that
there is a natural support network. As the computer people would say,
that is the default value. Whatever else women may be to each other, they
naturally tend to support one another. Oh, there's the bitchiness and
cattiness, and one woman's PMS is enough to drive her and the people
around her to distraction, but those are the exceptions.
So this brings me to my point. What's a girl to do? Your natural
inclination is that any two women who become close will choose the
intimacy of friendship over the intimacy of physical love. Oh, I know
there are plenty of lesbian women out there and many of them are truly
wonderful people. I was just at the point of truly realizing that I was
such a lesbian. You can't believe how naive I am? Well, this had been a
time of self-revelation and it didn't show any signs of abating.
Jennifer Allston was and is her name. She's been with one of Davis
Holland's biggest clients for the last two or three years and her work
and mine caused us to cross paths several times a week. Oh, now I know
what you are going to say. "Sandi, you should have seen it coming." But I
didn't. Jennifer and I would talk on the phone all the time, share our
salads at the desk between photo sessions, have quiet dinners after work,
get together on the weekends. In the process I knew that I loved her and
she loved me. We had become the best of friends in just a few months.
When did I realize that I had fallen in love with her? Oh, God, help me
here!
I guess it was that week we spent on Nantucket. The photo shoots had hit
a snag. The weather was not cooperating and the deadline was fast
approaching. The models and the photographers were on tight schedules.
Jenny and I were both baby-sitting this shoot because any really bad
delay of more than three or four days would throw a real monkeywrench
into the works. I mean, you could cut the tension with a knife. We could
all feel ourselves escalating.
"Sandi, you and I are getting away from this madness for a day or two.
They're all professionals. Anything they can't handle, they'll call our
cell phones and we can be right on top of it." Without waiting for an
answer, Jenny tossed me my bag and my overnight and grabbed her own and
whisked us off to the ferry. She took us to a little bed & breakfast just
outside of Barnstable on Cape Cod. The cool sea air and the slate grey
clouds with a fine misty rain that had settled in the day before showed
no signs of dissipating.
What was bad weather for them was a perfect excuse for us. Two women
rarely run out of things to talk about and we were no exception. We'd
thrown our things into the only room they had, the large room with the
great four-poster. By this time we were famished. The rain kept most of
the crowds away so we luckily found a table at a little bistro a few
doors away. You know that constant conversation women have? Well, as the
server brought our wine, words failed me. Jenny was studying my face; a
look of concern clouded her own. Wisely, she waited. She reached out and
took my hand. That did it. The tears came of their own accord. A few
times I tried to say something, but I didn't know where to start. I
wanted to tell her everything, but especially that I was in love with
her, but the words wouldn't come. I was so confused!
Jenny, in between passing me tissues, (mine had run out long ago),
started talking. "Sandi, there's no rush. We're the best of friends. I
love you dearly and you love me. I'm here to listen. You tell me whatever
you want to, whatever you need to. I'll always love you, I hope you know
that." I nodded.
She waited some more.
I wiped the tears as best I could. I took the proverbial deep breath.
"Jenny, your friendship has been and is a great part of my life. It's
just,...it's just that I..." My voice trailed off. There had to be an
easier way, but of course there wasn't. "The best way to put this is to
say that I'm not everything I might seem to be." (Was that ever an
understatement!!) Jenny took one of my hands and held it with both of
hers. The food had come, but it sat there uneaten.
"Before I came to New York, I had done some modeling for a photographer
friend of mine." Jenny nodded, indicating that she was familiar with this
part of my story, but she didn't say anything. Her smile encouraged me to
continue. "But I never told you one part of that story. You see when my
friend called me to help him out, I had never worn a dress in my life.
You see, I was a man." Silence. Now it was my turn to study my friend's
face to gauge her reaction.
"Sandi, darling, I didn't know how to say this, but I think I always
knew."
I could feel myself stiffen at that remark; she sensed it, too.
"God, it was nothing that you ever said or did. You're all woman as far
as I can see, and what I can't see doesn't matter. There's nothing you've
ever done that was a dead giveaway or anything like that. Hm, the best
way I can say this is that you have a certain, special vulnerability.
It's really rather sweet. But it's one of the things that's very
attractive about you. Not in the sense that you can't take care of
yourself, not a sense of helplessness, but if I had to put my finger on
it it's the sense that somehow all of these things are new to you. I
don't mean the job or New York, but the way people react to you and you
react to them. It's like you're suddenly very pleased that you're just
one of the girls. It's clearly still exciting for you.
"You have just discovered that working together we can accomplish much
more than we could alone. That's something a girl discovers early on.
Just now when you told me that you had been a man, it wasn't like I had
suspected, but rather that the final missing jigsaw puzzle piece had
fallen into place. It's a part of you, but certainly not all of you. If
anything it makes me love you even more." She brought my hand up to her
lips and kissed it. I melted.
"But that's not all," I continued. "You see, Jenny, I don't know how to
say this any other way, but I think I've fallen in love with you."
Again, silence. What happened next totally surprised me. Tears slowly
welled up in her eyes and began to run down her face. Now it was my turn
to comfort her. I think I started to say something, but she held up her
hand to stop me.
"Sandi, I..., I mean, well, you know, (how do I say this?), well, I
guess. Oh God, I don't know! You see, Sandi, I realized the other day
that my feelings for you ran deeper than I thought. It knocked me over.
What was I going to do with that? Of course, I loved you; that wasn't the
problem. It's just that it kind of crept up on me. One minute I loved you
and then all of a sudden you're the object of an erotic daydream. Whoa!
Where did that come from. I mean lots of people in this business sleep
with each other and everybody's past is littered with broken
relationships of one sort or another, but this wasn't some 'one night
stand' thing where two friends get a little drunk or a little high or
both and one thing leads to another. We've both been around plenty of
people who have a little fling with another woman and we're not talking
about lesbians here. It's just that the intensity of our friendship. And
you're such a good person, wonderful, really.
"Oh, Sandi, I don't know how to say this, but I guess I'm in love with
you, too!" Then, half laughing and half crying, Jenny buried her face in
her hands.
"Oh, sweet, sweet, Jenny, we don't have to hide our feelings any more."
We'd done nothing more than nibble at our salads and have a few sips of
wine, but suddenly neither of us was hungry. We wanted to be alone and
most definitely not in public! The wind was blowing the misty rain in our
faces, but it was only a quick run to the bed & breakfast. I don't think
we said a word until we got back to our room.
Well, it was a beautiful night. And I'd like to tell you that it was the
beginning of an amazing, enduring passionate affair, but that would not
be true. Dear God, I wanted it to be; we both did, at the beginning.
After a couple of weeks, we both knew something was not right, not wrong
actually, but just not right. Many tears and many long, long
conversations later Jenny knew that I wasn't what she really wanted. I
think I knew it before she did. The day we knew it was over was a day
that my stomach hurt so much. Jenny was and is such an amazingly kind
person that even though she knew, she didn't want to be the one to tell
me. I guess that's why my stomach hurt so much; I knew that I would have
to be the one to say that it was over. Well, the relationship, brief as
it was, was over. We held each other and cried. I mean what else can you
do? I was mad, I was angry, I was sad. But the last thing I wanted was to
stay in a broken relationship. She needed to move on and so did I.
I was pretty down for a few weeks there. Zombies, have more energy than I
did then, but you do get over it. There was that point when I didn't want
to get over it. You know, sort of, I was still being loyal to the idea of
the relationship and if I said to myself that if I got over it too soon
it would be like I was giving up. And would that make me a quitter,
something I hated? You know the crazy things you think at a time like
this.
Well, that's what I did on my summer vacation (ha!). What about you?
No, a little sarcasm aside, I'm doing ok. Davis Holland is a great group
of people and I love them dearly, especially Bitsy. Life is good. Mary,
my sister out in Evanston is getting engaged and I am thrilled for her.
Marissa Allegri, one of the part-time photographers we use here, and I
have been seeing each other. Who knows where that will end. I've been
thinking about the final surgery, and saving up for it. Dear God, it's
expensive even with our health insurance. Someone had suggested some
facial surgery, but I'm not so sure about that.
Whodathunkit? I'm the same person who started this journey and it's far
from over. Maybe all of this means something, maybe it doesn't, but who
knows if one person reads this and thinks that she's not so crazy after
all, then it will have been worth it.
Thanks for hanging in there.
Love,
Sandi.
Vicky
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