Crossing The Bar free porn video

Crossing the Bar by Vickie Tern i. She went to a different law school, but the summer between our second and third years we interned together at the same firm, and that's where we met. We got on well, we liked the firm and the firm liked us, and after we took our degrees we both took jobs as Associates there. We're different kinds of people. Jennifer's smart and aggressive and can be devious, so she was immediately put to work on tough cases representing women clients -- plotting divorce strategies, litigating discrimination and breach of contract, things like that. She did very well at it. I try to avoid trouble, so I get by with persistence -- I'm inclined to work hard and pile up arguments useful for reaching negotiated compromises. So I was in high demand as a support researcher for others. I'm trusting, a team player, you know. Jennifer dealt with mean people and never seemed to notice -- she outwitted them. I worked on corporate cases where opposing counsel were finally wearied into agreeing. We have vastly different temperaments, but we can each appreciate that the world needs both of us. At lunch together we'd find we held pretty much the same opinions about the old foxes and the old farts among the senior partners, and the smart ones, suckups, and dullards among the younger ones. I felt flattered that she respected my mind and opinions, my direct approach to problems -- show them you're overwhelmingly right, or if you aren't, don't. I in turn admired what she called her karate strategy, anticipate what opposing counsel will do and use it to your own advantage. She preferred trickery as the way to solve a problem, sometimes because it was advantageous and sometimes, it seemed to me, because it amused her to predict what people will do and then get them to do it. Either way, we enjoyed each other's company and began seeking each other out as lunch companions. That she'd ask my advice, listen attentively, and now and then take it, that could make my day. I didn't think our relationship could go further. At odd times she'd mention her fiance from law school days, a guy named Brad, handsome and athletic, from a rich family, with a fast track, high-powered job up north where he was being groomed to take over the family's various interests. Accustomed to privilege, one of those people who feels entitled to anything he sees and wants and goes for it. Way out of my league. So I tried not to fall for her despite the fact that she's incredibly pretty, beautiful really. She moves with a grace that took my breath away every time I saw her tripping down the hall on her elegant high heels, or bending to retrieve a book from a lower shelf in the law library. She has a pert nose and a small chin and short blonde hair that brushes against her neck whenever she shakes her head to say 'No.' Which was often, and still is, because she prefers her own views to almost anyone else's and keeps saying 'No' until she gets her way. She's out of bounds, I'd tell myself over and over. Even so, I was drawn, and I've got to confess that I'd daydream about her sometimes. Erotic thoughts. Sometimes for the whole day. "Want to study for the bar exam together?" she asked me one Fall afternoon. It was coming up in another month or so, and the company allowed new Associates company time to prepare for it. "Sure," I said immediately. I always welcomed any excuse to be with her. "But we have to be serious about it, Jesse," she said. "Evenings too, now that it's getting close. We'll each condense down different parts of the law and teach each other." She stared at me earnestly. "And mean it, no hanky panky." "I wouldn't think of hanky panky," I said, though I was thinking of nothing else at that moment. All only wishfully -- by then I'd seen a picture of this 'Brad' of hers. A big guy with a square jaw and square shoulders, a bruiser whose face even in repose said 'Don't mess with what's mine.' She was his. His photo made me know it. We kept at prepping for the exam and made terrific headway, spending a few afternoons and a few evenings at the office each week. Also some evenings at my place and some at hers. She had a quick memory and a penetrating mind, and I didn't want to seem a fool alongside her, so I took extraordinary care and kept my summaries tight and cogent, and made sure I learned her summaries on the first go round. So she was as impressed with me as I was with her. Even so, when the last two weeks before the exam loomed and we stared at topics neither of us had yet reviewed, we both had to reach the same conclusion. "We need to take the next two weeks off and go at it full time," I said. "You bet!" she replied. "Fine! Do you mind if we use my place? It's bigger than yours and a lot less grungy." "I can't say it isn't," I replied. Mine was not much more than a pad, one notch above a flop house. I spent as little time in it as possible. So those last two weeks we went at it full time at her place. We were with each other every waking moment, very nearly. We never felt closer, and in fact became quite casual physically -- the physical didn't measure into anything we were doing. For instance, she'd greet me mornings with her face plain, no make-up, hair still pinned for sleep. We were living the life of the mind with each other -- who noticed? Once she came to the door apparently unaware she was wearing only her bra and panties. Her breasts bulged out almost uncontained, and her lower cleft was quite noticeable. I stared, embarrassed, and pointed out her near-nakedness to her. It seemed to amuse her that I even noticed -- she shrugged, smiled, and went back to her room to toss on a T-shirt, the whole way weaving her ass seductively at me. "Maybe I'm starting to think of you as a boyfriend," she said when she came back, looking me over closely. "Or maybe a girlfriend -- you really are the sweetest person I've ever met." She paused, and as I looked away embarrassed she emphasized what she'd just said. "You're very dear! You really are." Then we got down to work. That morning I was really flustered, distracted. I couldn't forget how her body had seemed to be coming on to me. Apologizing, I told her just that. She looked delighted but said nothing. I also got pretty casual with her, inclined to relax and serve my own convenience rather than the proprieties. She didn't mind when I scratched my balls absent-mindedly while explaining some obscure legal procedure to her, or when I forgot to close her bathroom door while taking a leak. One evening I accidentally knocked a full cup of coffee into my lap, stripped to the buff on the spot, and went off to rinse and wring out my pants and boxers. Jennifer in turn went off to get me something else to wear until they dried. I asked for a towel. She brought back frilly lace panties. "They're the first things I could put my hands on -- just slip into them and don't worry about it," she said. "They'll keep you looking decent even if a little sexy. You can handle looking girly sexy I suspect." I pulled them on without uttering another word, adjusting my crotch, tugged the lace-lined edges around my rump, then tossed away the throw pillow I'd been using to preserve my modesty. She looked me over, grinning, and couldn't resist adding, "Just lovely! So very feminine! I guess clothes do make the woman! But your package bulges a little -- why don't you tuck it out of the way? That's it, now there's only a tight wedge between your legs. Just like mine!" She lifted her skirt to show me hers. My penis tried to harden itself even though squeezed tight between my legs. My hips wriggled with the effort to keep it there. Jennifer watched, amused. "How about wearing the matching bra too? That'd really look cute! Though probably it'd distract me from my work the way my bra distracted you a while ago." I just grinned back and said only, "I lack the basics for a bra." "Oh, no," she said. "Bras make a girl look attractive whether we have the basics or not. Because they're so sexy!" "Let's get back to work, shall we?" I was all I could say. My penis had escaped its prison and was stiffening in front of me, as she full well realized when I retrieved that throw pillow and covered my crotch with it again. During the next few hours she'd glance at me down there to see if the pillow had slipped. Of course her interest in my crotch kept me hard for the rest of the night. Twice those last weeks I slept on her couch, though more often I abandoned her at midnight and drove home to sleep, shower, change my clothes, then six or seven hours later return to her place ready to go back to work. She appreciated my care and dedication, and the last few nights before the exam she'd give me a quick hug and kiss at the door before turning to stagger into her own bedroom. I couldn't doubt that she appreciated me. I sure did her! The last night before the exam we quit early so we could each get a good night's sleep. As I left her place she kissed me affectionately as usual, but then suddenly wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and kissed me again, this time with considerable passion, pressing her whole body up tight against me. Holding herself there, she whispered intently into my face, "No matter what, I'll never forget what you've done for me here, Jesse. Never! I owe you so much! The very best of luck tomorrow!" Oh, God! As I embraced her and kissed her I guiltily pushed the iron rod in my pants tight against her belly. I couldn't help it! This is heaven, I was thinking. We were both breathless when we finally separated and looked into each other's eyes. Despite her fiance Brad, despite the bar exam, should I stay? Maybe blow everything? "The best of luck tomorrow for you too," I told her back. Then kissed her carefully once, turned, and left. When I looked back I saw she was still watching me, admiration shining in her eyes. That last embrace put me into such a good mood that the next day I aced the exam. I knew it immediately, and two months later the posted results confirmed it. Jennifer was less sure how she'd done, but of course she'd passed too. And that Friday night we celebrated. The two of us went together to a saloon near the firm's offices and exulted for hours, mocking our own and everyone else's sobriety and office mannerisms and laughing together while getting altogether, totally, blissfully plastered. The two of us. "Take me home, counselor," Jennifer slurred vaguely at 2:00 am. We were the last people there. The bar man saw us to the door, put my car keys back in my pocket, and called us a taxi. "You know," she said when we arrived at her apartment house and she got out. "You need to come up with me, Jesse. It's time you took back all those books and papers and things you left at my place. They were cluttered all over everywhere so I put them in a big box. All together in a big box in the hall in case we'd need them again. But now we don't need them again. We don't need anything again ever." She staggered, so I paid off the taxi and got out too and helped her into her building and up the elevator. "Here they are," she said when we got into her apartment, staring at a large carton in an alcove of her hallway." I stared at it too. And found I couldn't even bend to pick it up, much less carry it out the door and over to the elevator and down to my car. Then suddenly realized I had no car -- it was still downtown in the office parking lot. I stared at the box some more. "A box of books," I said solemnly. "A book box. I can't ...." Nothing else came to mind. "Never mind," Jennifer said. She must also have realized the book return was not going to happen tonight. "Jesse, I owe you big time. You got me through this. Stay here tonight. Not on the couch, stay in a decent bed. With me. We'll both get more sleep." She started to pull me toward her bedroom. "How will that happen?" I asked her. As we came through the doorway I saw she had only one queen-sized bed. "More sleep? You have only one bed." And a fiance, I managed to not say. I tried to leer and failed. Was this my night, at last, despite everything? This smart, beautiful woman wanted me to sleep with her? In that bed? I wished I were less drunk, so I could play my few cards more carefully. "How can I protect your virtue when I'm in bed with you?" "Well," she said slowly, her dark eyes seemingly serious as she looked me up and down. "You could pretend I'm a guy. That way maybe you could keep yourself to your side of the bed. How 'bout that?" "I ...." Nothing clever and provocative occurred to me. I had already seen her in a bra and panties. No way was she a guy. "Unless of course you're gay. If you have gay tendencies. Do you? Like sex with men, I mean? Then it would work the other way," she said. Her face suddenly brightened despite the alcohol haze. "Hey, how about we both play we're gay guys. Just a little bit gay. Just a little. Then we can both play gay with each other. I saw you in those panties, how it excited you!" Her eyes lit up. "I keep a dildo in my bedside table. We can both be gay guys and suck each other's cocks." "What?" "I owe you, Jesse. Spend the night here. Get your car tomorrow when you're sober. Tonight let's be gay guys and you suck my dick and I'll suck yours." She paused. "Fair's fair, after all," she added. A definitive judgment. Nothing more to be said. Suddenly her eyes lit up -- she'd found more to say. "Then afterward we can fuck each other's asses the way gay guys do. How about that?" Oh, my God! I was thinking. I had no idea this delicate girl could be so raunchy! Was this how she'd stay faithful to Brad? By not being herself when she's fucking me? If we're both guys, and we're both gay, and my cock doesn't penetrate her pussy, then no matter what else she's still being faithful to her fiance in her fashion? There was no risk Brad would fly into a jealous rage, if he found out what we'd done? Because we were both gay when we did it? Hah! "OK," I said. She wanted this, she wanted us to have sex, and this was her excuse, this was how she would forgive herself, I could go with that. But something felt wrong here. I realized I couldn't do it. I wanted no false pretenses between us. Not even pretend false pretenses. "Oh, Jennifer, I'm not really gay, you know," I suddenly blurted out solemnly. "Not exactly, anyhow. Not even a little." Idiot! I almost bit my tongue. Was I ruining my big opportunity? "Not usually," I added to mollify her somewhat. I hoped. But that made it worse. Then I made it worse still. "And you're definitely not a guy." I was looking at her. She was already undressing, and oh, my God! There was her willowy figure peaked by those gorgeous tits I'd seen spilling out of her bra, now jutting out at me naked and unashamed. Glorious globes tipped by nipples that dared me to come closer. I remembered how they'd felt pressed up against me that last night before the big exam. Her saucy face was looking up at mine, only a little bit blurred. "No way are you a guy!" I repeated appreciatively. I've shot myself down, I was thinking the whole time. Ruined it. Deprived her of her necessary little subterfuge, her sop to her conscience so she could excuse herself. My damned sincerity had just cost me a blow job and a chance to fuck the most gorgeous tits and the roundest, sexiest ass that ever sashayed down the aisles of a law library! "No? You're not? Not even a little?" She paused. "And I'm not a guy? All right then. We'll sleep together anyhow." She went to her bureau and handed me something slippery and silky. "Here, wear this." I unfolded it. A night gown. One of hers. With delicate little lace flowers embroidered all over it and a generous bosom designed to hold breasts. Her breasts. "This is a girl's nightgown," I informed her dully. "If I'm not a guy and you're not gay then we'll both be girls," she replied. "That would work. Girls suck cock too. Come to bed and suck on my dildo and I'll suck on yours. I do owe you, Jesse. You got me through the bar. You deserve your just and due reward." She listened to that last phrase in her head, as if she'd said it wrong. Was it a legal phrase? "Just and due," she repeated. Then she said pleading, almost yearning, "Please, Jesse, be a girl! I want you!" Then ingratiatingly, "If you're man enough to wear my panties then you're girl enough to make love to me!" I tried to find something wrong with her logic and her proposal but I couldn't. This beautiful girl will give me a blow job if I'll put a dildo of hers, a plastic tube, into my mouth? Then she'll let me sink my prick deep into her soft butt if I let her do the same with her thing? No problem! I suddenly felt more tender than ever toward her. And very horny. My lust suddenly became unbearable! No man ever stripped off his clothes faster, nor flowed into a woman's nightgown more willingly, nor leaped into bed more eagerly. Jennifer was already waiting for me there, propped on an elbow. "You do look so cute, girly," she said. "Oh, I just love you this way. Maybe a little lipstick to complete the picture?" I started to object, but realized immediately that would be silly, and managed to stifle myself. She reached to her night stand and found a tube, opened it, and rubbed it over my upper and lower lips. "Mmmmm," she said approvingly. "Lovely! Now you suck on my dildo and I'll suck on yours." She was determined to maintain that mine was a dildo, I suppose so she could feel she was still being faithful to her Brad. My last shred of integrity declared itself as I slid down under the covers. "Don't have a dildo," I blurted. "Only the real thing." Thank God she didn't believe me! "Of course you have a dildo, you sweet thing," she said. "I felt it pressed against me the night before the bar exam. When we hugged each other. It inspired me all through that exam. If there are things like that in the world, I told myself, I want them! Anyhow, lots of girls have dildos. Some are ashamed to confess that they have them and use them, that's all. But you can confess it to me, honey. Do you use it to pleasure yourself?" I entered altogether into the world she was creating for us. "Yes," I replied. "I do." True enough. "Then feel free to confess it. Look, there it is!" She'd twisted around and was now facing my crotch. My prick stood straight up, stiff as a fencepost, not an inch from her face. "Bum," she said, and her mouth engulfed the head. More of it began to disappear past her red lips. That same moment she threw her thigh over my head, and it landed on my shoulder, and I found myself staring directly into her crotch. My nose nudged her beautiful slit. She had a neatly trimmed beaver, and I saw at once that she was a true blonde. But rising out of her slit, climbing high and standing up stiff, was a pink pole! Her prick. Her dildo. Was...? It was a big thing, bigger than mine, now that I could see it clearly in the dim light. Of course. A two-ended dildo. One end disappeared into her, sunk deep enough into her vagina to hold the whole thing in place without straps, as if it had grown there. 'No entry, reserved for Brad," came to mind. Even so, her cunt lips were seeping lubricant all around that dildo, and its other end, crowned by a noble purple helmet, curved up at me toward my mouth. It was a very lifelike dildo. She'd taken my prick into her mouth. I'd take hers into mine. Fair's fair. I did just that. As her warm, wet lips sank even further down my cock, the most marvelous sensations began to flood my pelvic region. Rich and moist and warm and ... oh, lovely, I almost felt faint. Desire was blossoming in my tummy like a flower. "Ooooh!" I said lingeringly, gratefully. I grasped the base of her dildo and began to work it in and out of her pussy and licked devotedly at its head and began to run my lips down its shank. Then I did what she'd done, took its crown into my mouth. Careful of teeth! Soon my head was bobbing up and down on it vigorously, sucking. Sucking. "Nghh!" she said. Then "Ohhhhhh!," an almost pitiable moan. I paused. "Oh, don't stop!" she cried out. "Don't ever stop!" Now as her lips slid up and down my cock, she grasped the base as I'd grasped hers and began to squeeze it frantically, bending it toward ... and suddenly, oh my God I was fully enclosed, squeezed warm and snug all up and down my entire length! She'd swallowed it! The whole thing! I was deep in her throat! I couldn't take it any longer. "Oh!" I screamed. "Ahhhhhh!" and all the desire accumulating in my gut and my crotch spread out to my whole body, which stiffened, paralyzed by sheer delight, and then began to spasm. "Ah, God!" I was pumping cum straight down her throat into her tummy and I couldn't stop! It went on and on! She seemed to swallow, to squeeze my cock, and it pumped even more. She was fully in control of it! "Ahhhhhhhh!" was all I could cry out, in a joyous wail. Then at last she pulled her head back and I felt myself emerge. "Now you do me, Jess! Swallow me like that!" came from somewhere near there. I tried, and gagged twice. "Just swallow, honey," she said, coaxing me along. "Every girl needs to know how to deep throat her man!" The third time, her dildo actually did slip into my throat, and while it was stuck there I rose up and down and nodded on it, my whole head fucking her dildo and also her cunt. Repeatedly, until after a half-dozen more strokes I heard her squealing "Haaah! Haaaah! Haaaaaah!" and realized that she too was cumming. My nose and lips suddenly felt slick and wet -- lubricant was pouring out around her dildo and onto my face. I pulled off and gasped, and gradually we both recovered our breathing. "Yes," she said, as if something had been settled in her own mind. "Your first cock! Remarkable! You're a natural born cocksucker, sweetie! Your very first time and you swallowed it all, and with an extra-large-sized cock too! Honey, you have a marvelous future as a girl! Come up here." I did. She grasped me around the neck and kissed me passionately, ferociously, then rolled me over on my back and kissed me yet again, then climbed on top of me. More kisses as she lay there a moment. "Spread your legs, babe," she whispered in a tense guttural. "And lift them high!" I did. "Higher!" I did. "Heels to the ceiling!" I pushed them way up. Something was poking at my anus. Her dildo! My God, still there, and now she was getting ready to fuck me with it? My God she was doing it! It had penetrated! It was inside me! It was sliding inside me! I felt peculiar, but that same ripe desire began to spread through my pelvic area yet again as she slid in and out of me, in and out. In and out! Fucking me with her cock! Joy blossomed inside my asshole and spread to my belly, then flowed and flowered everywhere! Exploded everywhere! Oh, bliss! I may really have fainted this time. When I opened my eyes Jennifer was smiling down on me. "We must do this more often, girlfriend," she said. "You do love getting fucked." She was still filling me full, stuffing me. My asshole. She pulled it out, and I felt empty. Deprived. "Now do me. Can you?" Did she mean? Yes. She rolled herself over, rolling me on top of her, and miraculously, I found I could again get stiff enough to penetrate her ass. Just barely firm enough. I filled her butt with me, and then lay there a moment. "Mmmmmmm, that's so good!" she said. "So very good! Now let's fuck!" I did. We did. As I began to move in and out her cries increased in both volume and duration. "Oh, Jesse!" she screamed. "Jessie! Jessieeee!" Was she having chain orgasms? I'd heard of such things, but had never been party to any. She seemed to be climbing through absolute bliss to higher states of sublimity as she shrieked my name over and over, "Jessieeee, Jessieeee!" Finally she stiffened as if in agony, and once again she came and I came and came, this time deep into her bowels, into her dark, satin-lined second pussy. And we both then lay still. She was asleep. The next moment so was I. ii. When I awoke the next morning the sun was shining through her gauzy window curtains and Jennifer's face was immediately above mine. Her whole soft, warm body was again lying on top of mine, pressing against me. She'd made herself up already, I saw. Her eyes were shadowed and her lips were dark red. She was gorgeous, heartbreakingly beautiful. I smiled at her. She smiled back. "Oh, Jessie!" she just said, languorously. "You wonderful girl! That was so lovely! Move in with me!" "What?!" I said. I was no longer drunk, so I thought I'd heard her correctly. Move in with her? My heart leaped at the thought. The two of us living together? Sleeping together! Making love every night! "Move in with me! Come live with me and be my love! This very day! Today!" I was overwhelmed. She wanted me! The cleverest, most beautiful, sexiest girl I have ever known wanted me! Wanted me to live with her! I felt too weak to move. I looked up at her an she looked down at me, and I'm sure my face reflected my joy and my gratitude. She kept looking, waiting. Not good enough, she wanted a look of acceptance. The very words. I could see this was not a moment's impulse, this invitation. She'd been up for who knows for how long now, how many hours, thinking about it. Long enough to put on her morning makeup. She'd made coffee too, the aroma spread from the kitchen. "I mean it!" she said. "I want you! I want you with me every night! Every morning! Just as you are! Even moreso!" At that my penis began to swell up again, I could feel it. So could she. "I thought so," she said. She pulled up the hem of my nightgown -- I was still wearing her nightgown, it was so comfortable I'd forgotten -- and she shifted her hips ever so slightly, that was all she needed, and she'd slipped onto me. Slipped me into her. Her cunt surrounded me this time. I was deep in her pussy! Her innermost sanctum! There it was, emptied of that doubleheaded dildo and filled with my own flesh and blood dildo. My rampant cock I mean! Her pure hot flesh surrounded me, and we were glued together by our accumulated juices. I was inside her holiest of holies. I felt ... completed! She gave a great sigh. "Welcome home," she said. "Move in with me every night, Jessie. Like this. Now just say 'Yes, I will.'" Oh God how I would have loved to say 'yes, I will.' But by the light of day I could see problems. Even with my cock inside her, sane counsel had to make itself heard. In as quiet a voice as I could muster -- yet remain audible -- I said, "Jennifer, I don't want to sound like the voice of common sense the morning after the night before, but ... but aren't you engaged to another man?" I felt like such a fool saying that while my cock was buried inside her. But she didn't even pause, only settled her haunches more firmly against my hips. "Not another man, no. Engaged to a man, yes. To Brad. Yes, I am. And he certainly is. He's more man than any other man I've ever met." "And what would he think of my moving in with you?" Was I talking to a child? She was far too savvy for this. "Nothing, honey. He'd love it!" Baffling! "He'd love it, that you're living with a man?!" "Oh, if he thought you were a man he'd be furious. He'd want to kill you, maybe both of us. He might, too, he can get quite violent I'm afraid. I've seen it. His temper is not his best feature." "Then how in the world...?" "That's the beauty of what I'm saying! If another girl moved in with me how could he possibly object? He'd love the idea! It would reassure him." "What?" She was moving faster than my mind could follow her. "Just think! If my closest collaborator at work was also my dearest girlfriend, and we shared an apartment, it would be like living with a permanent chaperone. He'd feel doubly sure of me. What could be safer than two girls living together in this big, bad, wicked city?" She was soooo wet! The walls of her pussy squeezed my cock as she clenched it and then slid up, then down it. Then up. Relentlessly. My 'dildo' began to climb toward paradise yet again. She squeezed her pussy at the bottom of each stroke, gripping my prick as if with a quick handshake, then started up again. I entered the heavenly gates. I went into outer space. Pure bliss and counting and more to come. But still, I had to say something. "I'm your dearest girlfriend? But Jennifer, remember? Need I remind you? Especially now, at this moment? I'm not a girl!" "But you can be! You need to be! You were certainly a girl last night, you remember? Last night you agreed that you were a girl and we sealed it with a kiss. With more than a kiss, with our mouths and our throats and our rear ends! You said you weren't gay so you wouldn't suck my cock, so instead of being boys together we were girls together, and it was beautiful! So very beautiful You preferred it, you chose to be a girl! And you sucked my dildo and I sucked yours. And then we fucked each other as girls do. I loved pushing myself into your pussy and sloshing around, and you loved it too, I know that! Are you saying you were a man the whole time? A gay man after all? Well, that would work too, Brad wouldn't mind that, though he'd probably take some persuading! You might have to come on to him and suck his cock before he'd believe you." I saw her point. In a way I guess I had been a girl, in Jennifer's head, anyway. In a make believe kind of way. But also for real -- she had fucked my ass with her artificial cock, there was no denying that. And look at my nightgown! She smiled smugly and wriggled her ripe cunt on my prick, and I almost came! "I do so love your dildo, Jessie. You're my dear, dear girlfriend, and don't think for one moment that you're not! I won't let you be anything else. I won't be unfaithful to Brad with another man. And anyhow, we agreed to it already! You know contract law, we've exchanged considerations, our juices, so it's binding. And I do so want you!" Her voice lowered to a growl as she repeated it, "Oh, sweetheart, I want you so badly! I must have you!" Now her pussy was slipping up and down rapidly, rolling round and round and sloshing its juices all over me, and my penis was somewhere dissolved in ecstasy way deep inside, and I couldn't think. She wants me! Somewhere in her mind space she needs to think I'm a girl, even when we're actually seriously fucking, because that's what she wants to think. She's continuing the game we played last night. We both played it. Did I want to last night? O yes! Could I still? "I want you to push your dildo into me every night." Oh God. Yes! "Every night. And you want my dildo in you every night, you darling girl, don't you? Don't you?" My asshole betrayed me! It actually clenched at the memory of her dildo working itself in and out of me, and my cock lurched, and I thrust up, I couldn't help it! "I thought so." I tried to talk her into a more reasonable frame of mind. "Pretending is one thing, Jenn, but reality is another place. We'd never get away with it. Your ... Brad is bound to visit you here. And ask other people questions. I don't look like a girl." "Oh?" She ceased gyrating and lay there on top of me, like a warm pillow bulging in several places at once. Then she reached over to her night stand and suddenly there was a mirror in her hand and there was my face in it. My hair was strewn casually across the pillow, framing my face. I looked languishing. My lips were still red >from her last night's swift lipsticking. Were my eyes darker than usual? Had she touched my eyelashes with mascara and darkened my eyelids while I lay asleep? Or were my lids just draped languorously in an erotic trance? Maybe both? The effect was distinctly effeminate. Feminine. Girlish. Rather lovely, in fact, I had to admit it despite myself. Moist and sexy. "No, you don't look nearly enough like a girl, not yet. Not at this moment. But see how easily we can get you there? Easily and undeniably. Your features are small and regular and your body is lean, ideal for rounding out. I have a friend who can make it all happen with no effort at all on your part. Well, hardly any effort. All you'll have to do is lie back and think pretty thoughts and let it happen. You'll love living as a girl." Her pelvis resumed. Began swiveling on my cock like a corkscrew, and now and then like a reciprocating piston. Her juices flooded my crotch. My whole pelvic area. We were both soaked. "No real changes needed," she said breathlessly. "The old Jesse was always a little bit girly. Oh, don't take offense, I mean sweet and gentle, mostly, but also a doll face in some ways. We'll just make her a little moreso." She was daydreaming as she slid up and down on me, and I can't say I minded. "What about work?" I asked while I concentrated on those delicious sensations suffusing my entire body. My God I felt marvelous! "How do I explain it at the office?" She smiled almost triumphantly! My question told her I'd already agreed, in my head anyhow. "The old Jesse could go to work as a girl and no one at work would much notice, not really. It doesn't matter to anyone there. A lot of the staff are accustomed to boys who are also girls. Maureen in Accounting was born male, did you know that, but now she's a female in everything but the chromosomes? And Paige Chalmers is a transvestite. Her secretary told me she never knows how she'll look when she comes to work, like a man or like a woman. But Paige settles all his cases advantageously and bills hundreds of hours, so no one cares. I'm sure that the new Jessie won't want to look like the old Jesse at work, not once she knows how to be so much more beautiful." She paused and looked at me meaningfully. "Not once she knows what her life will always be like when she's my own dearest, my most beloved girlfriend." Then she twisted her cunt forward, then slid it back again. Oh, Jesus in heaven! Was she serious? She was serious! "I don't know, Jenn. There are .... I'd be so embarrassed if ...." "I'll make you a deal, Jessie. Today's Saturday. I want my girlfriend with me every moment today and tomorrow. Tonight and tomorrow night, all night. Everywhere we go. Does that sound so difficult?" She smiled enticingly and her hips wriggled and I nearly came then and there. "This very morning we'll visit my friend Eva, she performs miracles. Then we'll play. We'll spend two whole days playing together out among people, and the evenings too. You'll be a girl the whole time. My girl! If just one person, just one, raises even one eyebrow at the sight of you, if anyone sees you as anything other than my dearest girlfriend Jessie, then I'll release you from your contract with no penalties. No privileges, but no penalties. Back you go to live in that grungy one room of yours. Does that sound fair?" She lunged her pussy at me. "Oh, God, yes," I replied. "Oh, yes! Yes! YES!" That last was for what she was doing to my penis at that moment. To my dildo. Oh, God, the joy I felt down there! "Fair's fair I guess," I added mindlessly, trying to respond in some way to her words. I'd half listened." "Then if you pass perfectly, and everyone thinks you're the girl you seem to be, you'll move in with me and be a girl at work and at play and all the time and we'll be as intimate as two people can ever be. For as long as we both want it. No more hesitation. You'll let me embellish you just a little and I'll gild the lily just a little to make your life with me even nicer, to keep our secret safer. Nothing altogether irreversible if you should ever want to resume your former life without me." It was a weird notion, but she meant it, I could tell! And so rewarding, especially at that moment! I kept listening. "Think of this! Now that we're past the bar exam, our salaries go up. There's a two-bedroom apartment gone free in this building and I have first refusal on it. Brad and I have never set a date, his family wants to see him fully established before he gets married. So you and I can sign a joint lease and live together ... for how long do you think, a year with an option to renew? Two years? Yes! We'll live together as girl and girl for a year at least, and I'll love you as no girl has ever been loved. To pieces! To little teeny weeny pieces. Then after the year's up, we'll see. Everything subject to renegotiation. Agreed?" She was going way too far. Me pretend to be a girl? Commit to it for a whole year? Crazy! Though a subversive thought did occur to me. It isn't as if I had any friends in this town. Or relatives who'd ever see me and embarrass me with questions. So why not? She suddenly placed both her hands on my chest, her delicate fingertips dancing over each of my nipples, and she diddled each nipple. "Oh, God, how can you wait!" she muttered to herself. "Think of having your very own soft, beautiful breasts. Mine! Breasts like mine!" "What?" "My breasts! They're yours now! Take them in your hands!" Talk about arousal? I couldn't think about anything else. Only her body rising and sinking and twisting on my cock and her hands playing across my chest. I grasped her breasts and caressed their tips. As if I'd triggered an explosion, one final time she drove her buttocks down hard onto my crotch while I rose up to meet and match her. And came. All at once. Both of us. Oh, God, repeatedly! We both shouted "Yes!" out loud to each other, repeatedly. "Yes!" My penis pumped and pumped, and continued to throb inside her even after the well ran dry. "Breasts arouse you? Wonderful! You'll have them then whenever you want them! Day and night maybe even for the rest of your life. Oh you've made me so happy!" This wasn't the moment to inform her that despite all my shouted affirmations, I hadn't yet agreed to anything. We lay there a moment, catching our breaths. I thought I should query her blissful fantasy of the two of us living together. "You say it's a 'two bedroom' apartment? We wouldn't sleep in the same bed?" "Oh yes. Except when Brad comes to visit. That's what the second bedroom's for." "For Brad when he visits?" "Don't be silly, sweetie, Brad and I are engaged! For you! Officially that's your room. He'll think so anyhow." She practically smirked at me. "Brad has a real cock, not just a dildo like yours. Huge. And he's insatiable. All man and then some!" She looked thoughtful, as if recalling something, or as if something else had just occurred to her. Then suddenly, "Come lick my cunt, Jessie!" "What? Jennifer, it's ...." "Women kiss each other's cunts, sweetheart! And lick them. I want your mouth to lick my cunt, I'm leaking. Enjoy my cum the way I enjoy yours. Taste it! Swallow it! You'll love it! Drink me!" So I did. It felt odd to be licking away at that slick stuff, at first, knowing my own semen was mixed in with her juices. But she was right, the taste wasn't objectionable, and by the time she'd spasmed out the last blebs of me and I'd sucked and lapped her clean I did kind of like the flavor and the feel of it, both. She was pleased when she saw me licking the last of it off my lips, and seized my head in her arms and kissed me passionately. A whole year of this? Living intimately with this marvelous girl and having sex like this as often as I craved it? That did have its advantages. Incredible advantages. Pretending to be a girl with her was a small price to pay for bliss like this, I was thinking. When we showered together she couldn't keep her hands off me. All over my hair, my hips, my crotch, fingers drifting into my anus, she rubbed her fragrant shampoo all over all those parts, over all of me. As the water splashed over us and I feasted my eyes on her lithe figure and ran my hands over the heavy, delicate curves of her protruding, high-hanging breasts, she repeated, "So we agree? You're my special girlfriend for the next two days, and if no one suspects then we're live-in girlfriends period for a year, and no more problems?" One day at a time. No problems. I was entranced beyond words by her physical presence, her closeness, her scent. Her touch. Could I turn down an offer like this? She was everything I wanted. I nodded. Quickly she reached for a bottle of lotion on a shelf above the shower and spread a dollop of it on my chest. "All over, everywhere you can reach," she said. "Turn around so I can do your back." The shower splashed over my body and my body hair disappeared. Well, OK, there wasn't that much, no loss. She then turned off the water and handed me another bottle of lotion. "To soothe and smooth and soften," she said. It was rose-scented, and I realized for the first time that she really was serious -- my skin felt a little greasy at first, but then like moist satin as the fragrant lotion sank in. It became smooth and ripe, plumped up. And I smelled ... feminine. The same way she did. Then when we stepped out she said again, "No problems," and wrapped me in a huge white towel and led me back to her bedroom. I followed. I'd go with whatever her plans for the weekend, I'd decided. Then if this incredible erotic attraction persisted, we'd see. Though, be a girl at work? I didn't see that no matter how uneventful others might think it. But I couldn't rule anything out. Not yet I couldn't! "Let's see now," she said. "Nothing too girly. What have we here? You're practically my size, that's probably why we fit so well together when we're ... fitting ourselves together." She smiled offhand and returned her rapt attention to her closet. "Here, you'll love this!" she suddenly declared, taking down a black cotton T-shirt with a black embroidered deep V neck. "And this, perfect!" She held out what seemed to be a too-small, too-tight pair of black Capri pants. To me the outfit looked like an alien invader's uniform. A college girl's casual chic. "Why will I love these?" I asked. "Because with the right bra the T-shirt will imply you have boobs, even small ones, and the Capri pants are tight and stretchy and will show off your curved calves. Oh, don't think I haven't noticed that you have a girl's thin ankles and plump calf muscles. You should let the world see them. They're uncommon in a man, and that's all the more reason to call yourself fortunate that you're changing over, crossing the gender bar. That you're now a woman." "That I'm now a woman," I repeated in as deep a masculine voice as I could, only lightly ironically, in an effort to bring her to her senses. "If you want us to continue with what we are with each other, and doing what we do with each other, Jessie," she said solemnly, looking directly at me. "Then that's what you are! Yes!" Her voice was solemn. She was warning me. "Remember to raise your voice a little in pitch. A little musicality in the phrasing wouldn't hurt either. No fair deliberately exposing yourself." "OK," I said in a higher vocal range, trying to placate her. "Let's see, we'll want to show off an empty crotch like that one you showed me the night you spilled your coffee. No bulge at all. A wedge between a girl's legs is an added attraction in women's casual wear these days, proof positive that a girl's indeed a girl. In your case it'll prove that you're no way a man." Now I was worried. "How do we manage that?" "This way!" She held up something black. "An extra-firm panty-girdle. I got it last year when I put on a few pounds and needed to pull in the flab to fit my clothes. It's ruthless -- there's room in the crotch for a cunt and no more than that. So you'll tuck your dildo and those other things out of sight between your legs, and this will squeeze them up snug and keep them there. Then you'll find you have the most delicious curve in front. Like mine!" She handed it to me and I worked it up and on. My balls did feel crushed when I was done, but she was right. There were no manly indications visible anywhere below the gentle curve of my belly practically to my rear end. I should have felt uneasy, looking down where my legs joined and seeing ... nothing. But somehow I didn't. "As a bonus, you now also have two delicious curves in back too. That panty girdle has also given you the most delectable rump. Take a look." I did. She was right. My buttocks had been reshaped into globes. My butt was unmistakably female. "And now to reshape the rest of you! You'll need this," she added, gesturing toward the bed. A black lace underwire bra lay there. "I guess so," I replied. She was enjoying this game! I allowed her to fit the bra to my chest and hook it behind me. Then with an intent, impersonal concentration she adjusted the straps. I felt my pectoral muscles pulled up and thrust out. I now had breasts! "Feel too snug?" she asked. Oddly, it felt reassuring. As if two soft, firm hands were grasping and supporting each of my breasts. "Is this how women feel when we hold them there?" I asked her, trying to inject a lightly jesting tone into my sense of wonderment. "If the right person's holding me, that's how I feel. I should hope so," she replied, pleased. "This is one of the best brassieres made. A properly fitted bra feels so comfy that you'll never again want to be without one. Except maybe to show your boobs and nipples through clingy or transparent blouses, and that's only occasional, only when you want to feel seductive. I'm so glad your bra feels good, honey. You'll find a bra helps keep you feeling feminine, sexy, besides keeping you from bobbling when you grow to your proper size." Bobbling? Grow? I'd promised her this weekend only for sure, I reminded myself. She had much more in mind, obviously. Well, sex with Jennifer was so utterly marvelous, so mind-staggering, that I might well want to extend it. But ... well, pretend to be a woman for a whole year? Was she even more sex-crazed than I was at this moment? Work could well be a problem. She expects me to wear drag even at the office. Ruin my reputation utterly. Yet, can I possibly live with her if I'm spending the whole week being myself at the office, being a proper male lawyer? No, obviously not. Well then, we'll see, I thought, as I stared at my bra'd and panty'd figure in her full-length mirror. Maybe I won't mind changing my gender identity even at the office. Maybe I'll even like it. I felt besotted! She was right. I did look and feel sexy! Especially when I pulled on her Capris and slipped into her blouse. Suddenly I looked ... undulating. Softly protruding everywhere desirable at once. Except where my legs joined, where I looked unmistakably like a girl. No male bulge at all there where it mattered! "All right now, Jessie," Jennifer said softly as she fluffed my hair out. "Can anyone doubt you're a girl now? Even with no make-up?" "I don't know ...," I said. I looked into the mirror. The effect was remarkable. Even my face looked feminine. "Honey, of course you know. No make-up and even so you're unambiguously female. You go walking down the street and you'll leave a trail behind you of men with their hands jiggling in their pockets. You excite even me already! I love sex with girls as well as with guys, even more with girls, you surely know that by now, and you're now both!" "Jennifer! You're bisexual?" "Duh, sweetheart! Ooooh you look so delicious! Let's go see Eva this minute before I give way to temptation and drag you back to bed! But first, just little more mascara, and just a touch more eye-shadow. That much always honey. You can let your lips tend themselves sometimes, and you can even neglect your cheeks and your complexion, but a girl should never ever ignores her eyes. First thing on waking up, stroke on a little mystery. Liner and mascara and eye shadow will carry you a long, long way toward wherever you want to go." A long way where? I had no idea, I was too heady with desire for Jennifer and desire to please her. Just to please her, I stroked on a pink lipstick while she watched. Hardly noticeable. Then she tossed all of the makeup I'd used into a purse along with my wallet and car keys. "Here, this is yours from now on," she said. "Let's go." It did feel peculiar, leaving the apartment while wearing Jennifer's clothes, my ass and my tits poking out on full display, my crotch severely pruned back, my eyes darkened, a purse swinging >from my shoulder. With my balls squashed up tight between my legs I found I had to walk to the elevator with short steps and a suggestive wiggle. Which was I supposed all to the good, because it further reduced the chance of anyone guessing my real sex and humiliating me. Another couple came into the elevator with a leashed dog and paid no attention to either of us. Nor did the doorman as we passed him, except to smile at me unmistakably as a man smiles at a woman. As Jennifer hailed a cab, a man striding down the sidewalk checked me out top to bottom, his face registering nothing. Did he read me? No, when he saw me studying him and we made eye contact he smiled slightly in shy embarrassment, then moved on -- he was ashamed he'd found my figure worthy of study. Almost immediately afterward, a passing woman eyed me up and down approvingly, and smiled directly into my eyes. That had certainly never happened before! Finally a clincher -- two young men in suits and ties glanced at me getting into the taxi, and one turned to the other and made an obviously lascivious remark. The other responded by smiling broadly at me. Quite nicely, too. "Great ass, lady!" the first one called out in a daring yet uncertain tone of voice. The other grinned apologetically in agreement. And I actually felt a sudden irrational rush of pride, turned, and smiled at him. "Thank you!" I said as graciously as I could. Unexpectedly, I felt good! Was I that attractive? I seemed to be attractive enough to command both male attention and female approval! A strange feeling permeated my gut -- my tummy, rather. A wave of self-confidence that nearly overwhelmed me. A sense of power! I found myself wriggling my butt from the sheer pleasure of it. Is this how women feel when they know they're good to look at? No wonder they take so much care with their appearance, and move so vivaciously, their eyes sparkling, when they're among men! Jennifer could tell I was feeling something novel, and as we settled into the cab she whispered, "See, what did I tell you? Can you imagine how you'll turn heads when you're properly shaped and made up? How you'll stop traffic the first time you cross the street wearing a decollete neckline? It's nice being admired, isn't it?" I looked down at my slightly protruding tits, not large but distinctively pointed by my bra, and experimentally I pushed them out even further. And realized that sitting in the taxi on my newly shaped buttocks felt like sitting on pillows -- they must also have contributed to my feminine appeal out there on the sidewalk. I had to nod agreement with Jennifer. I was still feeling an afterglow from attracting all that male admiration. It was perverse, they were males, I had no sexual feelings toward males, but it was satisfying nevertheless! It was admiration! It's good to be good at whatever you do, I decided. Even if what you do is be a man being a woman. I told myself that anyhow. iii. Jennifer's friend "Eva" turned out to be a Dr. Stockhauser, a somewhat abrupt middle-aged woman with a cosmetic salon and a clinic occupying a whole floor of a professional building. The lobby plaque called her establishment "Transformations" and described it as a full service salon offering "cosmetic and dermatological treatment" and also "plastic surgery enhancements," adding "By Appointment Only." Jennifer saw me staring at it and said unasked, "She's expensive but always worth it. I called her this morning while you were still asleep, honey. It was pretty obvious after last night that I'd want you to have something of what she offers. For your own sake." "I don't want any of that," I started to object. But she cut me off. "I want this for you. I want even the slightest hint of Jesse gone, so no one can dream that Jessie isn't genuine. And down under I know you do too. To save yourself embarrassment, so you can feel proud of who you are and what you are." She then looked at me steadily, seriously. "Also to assure yourself many, many nights like last night. As many as you might wish. Mornings too." That was hitting me below the belt. Literally. Then she added almost pathetically, "Jessie, I need this. I need you like this! Please? I promise you won't regret it!" "That's two promises," I commented in my carefully well-modulated woman's voice "The first was that I wouldn't be recognized as ... ahh, inappropriately dressed. And I guess that's turning out to be true." "You liked it," she interrupted to say. "I saw! You loved it!" "But to be made to look like ... to live like ... for a while, anyway .... Jennifer, you're my closest friend in this city. My only friend, I guess. You must know how big a change this is for me." "I know," she said sympathetically. "But it'll be worth it. I'll see that it's worth it, girlfriend. You already know how, and there's lots more coming. I have plans for us. Except for some of the people we work with, and maybe your ex-landlord, no one here knows you were ever a boy. As people get to know you as a girl, as you get to be more and more a girl, everything will seem more and more normal. You'll be you, that's all. Right now we need Eva to help send you on your way." I was still too stunned to say anything. Plastic surgery? That didn't sound at all casual. I finally managed to say so. "Oh no," she replied. "You don't need plastic surgery or anything like that, love. Let me promise you this. Let Eva do what seems necessary and tomorrow morning and every morning from now on you'll wake up smiling." She paused, then said in measured tones, "Even the mornings Brad happens to be visiting us. I promise! Even then!" That was a serious assurance. I looked at her, and saw she meant it. So I decided to go with it. Her reference to Brad reminded me, not incidentally, that as her lover, and that was what I now was, my best safety lay in looking unquestionably feminine. The more girly the better. A nurse settled us in Dr. Stockhauser's book lined study to wait, and a moment later "Eva" appeared. The two women embraced. Jennifer introduced me as 'her dearest girlfriend' and I acknowledged it by nodding. Eva sat down behind her desk and turned toward me. "I must congratulate you. Jennifer didn't exaggerate. Your facial structure is fine just as it is, no changes needed. And as for your figure, I can see even without close examination that your ... ahhh, deficiencies can be adjusted easily with minimal procedures. Nothing invasive, not even liposuction. A few injections. No surgical procedures at all." Jennifer nodded to me as if to say, "See, I told you!" "We'll concentrate on cosmetic improvements mainly -- a little collagen here and there -- lips, cheekbones, under your nipples -- that should hold you until certain ... hormonal adjustments take over. Nothing long range -- we have some new methods that work fairly quickly, often within a week, my women patients and their husbands marvel at just how quickly. Their husbands especially, if they happen to be my patients too. These days everyone demands fast results I'm afraid. Instant gratification. So we'll have you looking perfectly lovely in next to no time." "How long is 'next to no time, Eva?'" Jennifer asked. "Jessie here wants to begin her new life as soon as possible." "No transition time at all. When she leaves here, she'll be ... softened and plumped out nicely in certain ways. Quite attractive. By next weekend all that will have dissolved and she'll be naturally soft on her own, in some ways provocative. Then for few more weeks she'll grow even more into herself the way puppies grow into their paws, but she'll already be so gorgeous she may not even notice. You'll be pleased, trust me on that. She's perfect for this kind of ... changeover." Jennifer looked gratified. Instantly gratified, I supposed. "But first I need to ask you a few questions, Jessie. To begin with, for how long now have you wanted to be a woman?" I'd decided to go along with this, but I wouldn't lie. "Since Jennifer asked me to be one," I replied. "Since yesterday." She didn't quite expect that. It puzzled her for a moment. "You've worn women's clothes before yesterday of course?" I remembered Jennifer's lace panties. "Yes. But only because I had to." "Yes, it's often experienced as a need, for some its an obsession. So yesterday it came to you as a revelation, as a long-suppressed desire that was triggered by her ... request?" "A revelation that I wanted to please her, yes," I said. I wanted to be scrupulously honest. That much was certainly true. I'd been eager to get into Jennifer's pants from the moment I met her, but thoughts of Brad had inhibited me. And now I had been in her pants, and it had been sublime, and I wanted to stay there. I was even literally in her pants this very minute, I realized wryly, and even that seemed worth it. And would continue to be worth it. She' d promised me that, and I believed her. "I do want her to be happy," I added. I was sounding like a man in love. A woman in love? Was I? The Doctor brought me back to time present. "And as far as you know, you'll want to please her the same way into the foreseeable future?" "I hope to. Yes." With her fiance never knowing the truth about me. "Perhaps for years? I must ask, because some of the available treatments do affect the body long range. For years perhaps." "Years?" I looked at Jennifer. "Brad and I have no plans to marry soon," she told me helpfully. "Not for years, maybe. And we'll be signing a year's lease minimally. I'd love to look forward to years." "For a year or more, then. Jennifer is a wonderful woman." The prospect of living with Jennifer for a year or more began to seem enthralling. Even if as her ... intimate girlfriend. I looked at the situation coolly. Jennifer was a marvelous colleague and collaborator, a friend who was also an incredibly imaginative lover. I did want to stay with her despite her relationship with Brad, and staying with her as a woman seemed to be the only way. So OK. Yes. "Long range is fine," I added. "We'll deal with the future when it comes." Jennifer smiled at me so gratefully that my heart melted. I'd certainly given the right answer. Then Eva directed her attention to Jennifer. "Then you also don't intend for this to be an overnight affair. This isn't just for kicks, the occasional weekend. So to speak." "No," Jennifer replied. "I want to live with Jessie for ... a very long time. Maybe even longer. Quite a while. Right now I want to keep her close to me for as long as is humanly possible." I noticed that pronoun -- 'her.' Well, I decided, I suppose it's appropriate. I mean, look at me. Look what I'm here for. "Very well. Then we'll arrange for Jessie to be a woman until further notice." To me again. "My nurse will give you a few papers to sign and then we'll proceed. It'll be fairly minimal, nothing to worry about. A few injections, I'll explain them as we go, and some baseline testing, that's all. Then the usual salon routines. I'm afraid as far as beauty salon procedures go you've been really neglectful, my dear. You need ... everything, from a new hairdo up top to pretty toenails down below." This sounded like more than I'd contemplated. When we'd left the house I'd expected 'Eva' to doll me up with maybe a facial and a manicure, a quick hairdo, the usual stuff women get done in salons. So I could look respectably female in public. But this 'Eva' was also talking about injections, 'hormonal adjustments,' was that her term for them? Changing me from the inside out. I didn't want to object directly -- that might show lack of appreciation. So I tried indirection. "What about my pending cases?" I asked Jennifer. "Our clients think I'm a man." "Most of the clients you work with have never seen you." She said this abruptly. "And 'Jesse' and 'Jessie' will end up almost as similar as their names. A little bit altered is all. No one will mind, and no one will be surprised." This last surprised me. I raised one eyebrow. She explained. "You've never seemed terribly masculine, honey. A few people have asked me if I thought you were gay, not muscle gay like some men but femme gay. Girly gay. I've wondered. That's why I offered you the option last night. But you preferred this one." I didn't 'prefer' it, I accepted it. I accepted all this pretending that I'm a woman. But this wasn't the moment to argue the fine print. "So I'll just show up Monday morning in a dress and a new hairdo and no one will blink an eye?" Jennifer suddenly understood my uneasiness. "Monday morning? Oh, no, baby, you've got a few days to get used to yourself and let everyone else get used to the idea too, and let Eva's treatment do its work. We've been told not return to work until Thursday morning. They're reassigning us now that we're proper members of the bar and can carry our own weight. Everything we've been doing or can do is being revaluated. You didn't check your e-mail Friday afternoon before we left?" "No." Desire began to rise up and subvert my judgment. "You're saying we can be ... as close as we were last night all through most of next week? Four more days?" "And five more nights. And mornings, too. And on into the future, really. Yes." She looked at me with a faint smile. My penis began to swell again deep in its prison between my legs. No more hesitating! It was time to end this, get Eva's procedures out of the way whatever they were, and return to our lovemaking. For the rest of the weekend and then three more days besides! Who could refuse that? . "OK" I said. "OK to whatever the treatment I decide on?" Dr. Stockhauser seemed surprised. "I meant to explain each advisable improvement to you. That won't be necessary?" "No, just go ahead. If Jennifer wants me looking more like a girl, that's what I want to look like." Especially since then I can sleep with her every night as a girl and Brad will think it's cute and safe and not feel obliged to smash my face and break my bones." I smiled. "Even on nights when he's there he can't object to my being there too. I can be the one who objects to his presence!" "Then a girl's what you'll look like," the doctor assured me. She pressed a buzzer and her nurse came in, some young girl just out of high school, she seemed, carrying papers. "The standard forms," Eva said. "Even our women here for hair color treatments sign them." I signed them and the nurse left. "Good!" Suddenly Eva was Dr. Stockhauser again. "Now if you'll lower those lovely form fitting pants and expose your rear to me, we'll begin. Ahh,