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My Hero By J.L. Williams As I stared at the picture I couldn't help but cry. It had been almost forty years, but seeing his picture in the obituary section of the newspaper brought all the emotion and love flooding back into my heart. I have to tell this story; it truly is about my hero. My name is Michelle Anderson. I am now a woman, but I was born Michael McKinney. I was born a male, but I am now a fully functional female, and happily married to Philip Anderson, for thirty years. But once, a long time ago my first love and my hero was Mark McConnell. As I read the obituary for Mark, I thought nothing changed. He was a hero to more than me. He was a husband, a father, a leader and a man that was respected and admired by everyone he met. My story takes place in the spring of 1970. I was a senior at a pretty snooty University on the north lakeshore of Chicago. Back then I was Michael from Sunday night 'til Friday night. On the weekends I was Michelle. My mom, while she didn't understand why I did what I did, was supportive. My dad, well, he never took the time to learn much of what I did. He was too busy chasing young starlets in Los Angeles. Being young, reasonably wealthy, and having the right body type, made becoming Michelle much easier than some of my cross dressing friends. Back then I was 5'6" and 120 pounds. I had a feminine look even without makeup. My long hair was stylish for the time, and having an apartment off campus made things even easier. Yes all things considered I was doing okay. I would graduate in six weeks with a degree in business. I would move back to Northern California, and be Michelle full time. Meeting my hero changed that. It was a Friday night the last weekend in April and I had transformed into Michelle. I had met up with some likeminded and dressed friends at a north side bar that was friendly and accepting of us. After a few drinks we split up and I was heading back to my apartment. I normally didn't go into bars I wasn't sure of, but for some reason tonight I went into this sports bar, for the proverbial "one more". I took a seat at the end of the bar and ordered a white wine. It didn't take long for a guy to come up and start talking to me. I politely said that I wasn't interested, and that I was only having one drink, so thanks, but no thanks for the company. He left, but within seconds another guy stumbled up to me, and became very rude, and tried to grope my crotch. I tried to push him away, but it was no use. He was way too large. Soon he was joined by three of his equally drunk and stupid friends. I was now in panic mode. I was afraid of what they would do to Michelle, but more afraid of what they would do to her if they found out she was Michael! Suddenly, all four of them were on the floor. I looked up and saw him. Mark was standing there with a look of concern. He said, "Are you okay?" I said that I was, and that I was about to leave. He was about to say something when the cops burst through the door. They rounded all six of us up, and took us outside. Mark was the only sober guy in the lot, so they spent a lot of time talking to him. The four goons were told to go home for the night or they would be arrested. Finally, the moment of truth for me, one of the cops came over and asked for identification. Damn, I had fake Michelle id's that would get me into the bars that carded, but they wouldn't work with the cops. I handed him my Michael driver's license and hoped for the best. Fag! Sissyboy! Queer! Holy Shit! And derisive laughter rained down on my ears. I reddened, bowed my head in shame, and tried to disappear on that sidewalk. "Is there a problem officer?" It was Mark, for the second time in ten minutes coming to my rescue. The cop looked at him, and said, "Are you saying you know this fag?" Mark unbelievably and politely said, "I had just walked into the bar to pick her up and drive her home. I have not had anything to drink tonight, and if it's okay, we'd like to leave." "I can't believe you'd have anything to do with a queer like this!" said the cop. Mark quietly stood there until the cop handed me my driver's license and told both of us to get the hell out of his sight. Mark took two steps over to me, took my hand that was shaking uncontrollably, and gently led me to his car. He opened the passenger side door for me and helped me into the seat. He then walked around the car, stopped and briefly talked to one of the other police officers. He plopped into the driver's seat, turned and with a fifty thousand watt smile, asked, "Where to my lady?" I burst into tears. I couldn't believe how calm he was. He reached over and gently rubbed my back, and said, "why don't we get a cup of coffee, and you can get yourself calmed down." I dumbly nodded, and we headed west to a small 24 hour diner. Mark parked in the lot, and again, graciously went around helping me out of the car. He smoothly guided me into the diner and to an open booth. He asked if I wanted coffee and I nodded. Mark ordered the two coffees and waited patiently for me to get my composure. Finally, I managed to mumble a thank you. He replied that no thanks were in order, and said that once I was okay, he'd drive me home. After a couple of sips of coffee, I managed to look him in the eye. He was beautiful, brown hair, blue eyes, wonderfully fit, and as gentle as could be. He was looking at me with true concern. I continued to stare dumbly at him, when he asked, "Are you feeling better? You had a scary few minutes back at the bar. Would you like something to eat? The food here is passable." When he said passable I started to laugh. That was my goal every weekend to be "passable". He asked what was so funny, and I said, "First, no I don't want anything to eat. Second, I feel much better now. Third, the word passable is a compliment in my world. And finally, I can take a cab home; you have done too much already." Mark laughed at my passable remark, and wouldn't hear of my taking a cab home. So we sat there in silence for a while and finally Mark said, "You know you are a beautiful young woman. I would have never in a million years guessed you were anything but all girl. Obviously you have been doing this for a long time. Do live as a woman full time?" He was so comfortable to be around that I wound up telling him my whole life story. He was amazing, I trusted him with details I hadn't told anyone. After another refill of coffee, I stopped and realized I didn't even know his last name, and here I was telling him about sneaking into my sister's lingerie at the age of 12. So I asked him for a quid pro quo I needed to know about him. My hero should have been named Jack Armstrong; he was truly the all American boy. He was a city kid from the south side, big Irish Catholic family. He was a college senior at a Catholic university not far from my school. He went to school on an athletic scholarship, he ran cross country in the fall, and played baseball in the spring. He didn't smoke or drink (much), and the only reason he was in the bar tonight was he was heading back to the dorm, he was also a Resident Assistant, and had to use the bathroom. Later I would say I was saved by a weak bladder. Mark said, "Michelle, if it's okay can I take you home now"? I have a game tomorrow, and I need to get some rest." I quickly agreed, and we headed to my apartment. When we pulled up in front, I impulsively kissed him on the cheek. I couldn't see if he blushed in the darkness, but I could tell he was taken by surprise. I was about to apologize for my action when he stunned me, "Michelle, despite the circumstances of our meeting, I find you very interesting. Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night? Nothing fancy, I know this great little Italian place, and then maybe a movie?" I couldn't believe it. I had been dressing for ages, and I had been going out on weekends for three years, and while I had sex both oral and anal within my community, I had never had a date as Michelle. Now I was being asked out by the handsomest guy I had ever seen, and probably the straightest. I simply said, "six o'clock?" "Perfect," said Mark, "I will pick you up then." He then got me out of the car, asked again if I was alright, and walked me to the door of my building. He didn't try to kiss me, and I didn't kiss him again, because I was too busy smiling like an idiot. He walked back to his car turning to wave twice. I walked to the elevator without touching the ground. When I got to my room, I sat on the couch and started to cry all over again. I was awash in emotions: the groping at the bar, being outed by the cops, and then My Hero. I got up, did my "bathroom" thing, got ready for bed, and then spread my legs and masturbated while picturing Mark on top of me...aaahhhh....it was wonderful. Saturday dawned warm and clear. I wondered if Mark would mind if I went to his baseball game? No, it was too soon in what I hoped would be our relationship. As I sipped my tea and read the paper, it dawned on me what I was thinking. "Our relationship!" Gadzooks, my Michelle side was in overdrive now. I cleaned the apartment like never before. I had high hopes of getting him back here tonight. I also went to the store, bought coffee, beer and wine. Then I went to the department store and bought an outfit for the night; lace underwear and a great mini-dress, black of course, and a black choker. Finally a trip to the nail salon for a manicure and a pedicure ended my spree. I kept smiling to myself thinking of how infatuated I was with this man. I went home and spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for Mr. McConnell. He rang my doorbell 6:05 and he had flowers, another first for me. I thanked him, put them in water, and we headed out for dinner. On the short ride to the restaurant he said that I looked more beautiful than he remembered. That comment caused me to show even more leg than I had been displaying. He was the perfect gentleman, but I had other plans for him. He was right, it was a quaint little Italian place, and the food was wonderful. But the best part of it was that it was a place where he had worked as a freshman. Everyone in the place knew him, and he proudly introduced me to everyone. There was no slinking around with the Fag, he was showing his date off...and I was his date. I was feeling so girly I couldn't believe it. My big time university disdain for romance and chivalry was almost totally lost. He was treated like royalty in there, and so was I, because I was with Mark. We talked easily. I asked him about his game...they won, but he didn't go into details. He asked me about my day, I lied and told him I studied, I thought it too early to tell him I wanted him inside of me. We finished dinner and he suggested we go see THX-1138; it was at a movie house within walking distance. I eagerly said yes, knowing I would have done most anything he suggested. We said goodbye to just about everyone we said hello to, and headed up the street. He took my hand as we walked, and I instinctively squeezed it and leaned slightly into him. He let go of my hand and put his arm around my waist. I looked up at him and said, "You are going to spoil me!" Mark smiled, and said, "I hope so." We got to the movie house; no megaplex 18's back then, Mark got the tickets, and asked if I wanted popcorn or anything. I said, "No, too much food for me, I have to watch my girlish figure." When I said it I blushed. I don't know why but I did. Mark gave the tickets to the usher, and said, "Your figure is perfect, you don't need to worry." Wow, compliments and good looks, I was falling head over heels for this guy. We settled into our seats and the movie started. It was some science fiction thing; I really didn't pay too much attention. As soon as it got dark I put my head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around me. I hoped he wouldn't try massaging one of my breasts, because that would be futile. I decided I wanted to find out if he liked me or not, forty-five minutes into the movie I put my hand in his lap. Wow, compliments, good looks, and a big very hard dick! I looked up at him, as he looked down at me, and I kissed him. My mouth flew open and my tongue darted out hoping to meet his. It did. We kissed and hugged for fifteen minutes when I gasped, "Let's skip the movie and go to my place." We were up and out of the movie in no time. We walked arm and arm to his car. I laughingly asked him what the movie was about and he said he had no idea; he was too busy thinking about me and how wonderful my perfume was. I don't remember the car ride, other than I am sure I annoyed the hell out of him. No seat belt laws back then, and I was snuggled up next to him and actually was nibbling on his ear! Mark finally had to ask me to stop; he said he didn't want to meet any more cops this weekend. I hopped up the steps and opened the door, Mark followed me in, and with every bit of will power I resisted the urge to jump his bones in the hallway of my apartment. Instead I asked if he wanted a drink, he said no, and suggested we sit on the couch. This made me nervous. I figured I was going to get the "Michelle, you are lovely, but I am a straight guy and while I had fun tonight, this is it" speech. What I got was the, "Michelle, you are lovely, and I have never even thought about doing anything sexually with a guy in my whole life, but I don't care about your plumbing. I find you to be beautiful, smart and so feminine I don't care about anything else but hoping tonight is the beginning of a wonderful relationship," speech. Bingo! I was on him like a cat in heat. I wanted to do things with him I hadn't even heard of yet. It took a while but he finally got the idea that I wanted us out of our clothes. He suggested we go to my bedroom, and this time I was the one leading the way. Once we got there I started to undress him. When I got him down to his jockey shorts he started to look concerned. I got worried until he said, "Michelle, I really want to be with you, but I want you to know I am a virgin." Wow, compliments, good looks, a big hard dick, and a virgin! This was going to be some night. Suddenly I felt like a grown up and I felt that I was now in charge. "Mark, relax, I have had a couple of experiences, but nothing to brag about. We have had such an easy going relationship, let's see what happens, no pressure, no worries, just fun." I stood on my tip toes and kissed him. He then took me in his arms and gave me a kiss of gratitude that left me limp, everywhere but one place. He then turned me around and if you can sensuously unzip a dress he did it. I stepped out of my dress and turned to face him. I took his hand as I got on the bed. He followed me and we laid there kissing and caressing each other's head and shoulders. I took the initiative and reached into his shorts. He flinched, but didn't move away. He ran his fingers down my spine and slid his hand into my panties and caressed my butt. I slid his shorts off of him, and while he lay on his back I removed my camisole and panties. I probably looked like a young boy back then. No tits, but a totally smooth and hairless body. My toes and fingers were painted bright red to match my lips, and as I threw my unmentionables on the floor I dove between his legs. I kissed his dick and ran my nails gently along the bottom of it. He tried to stop me. He wanted to do something for me. I told him in no uncertain terms that I was going to take him in my mouth and suck him until he came. So he had better lay back and enjoy it. My master plan was to get him to cum once in my mouth so I could get him to last longer when he fucked me. I was right; it didn't take long...I got a wonderful mouthful of Mark juice. My Hero even tasted wonderful. I crawled up into his arms and looked up to see him smiling at me. "That was amazing," he said, it was more like a contented sigh. "Yes you are," I replied. "Yes you are." He kissed me passionately, and asked what he could do for me. I didn't think he was ready to go down on me, so I asked if he'd stroke me while we made out; and he did. Oh did he; kissed me on the lips, the eyelids, my neck, my nipples and my earlobes all the while telling me how wonderful I was, how beautiful and sexy I was and gently stroking my dick. Mmmmmm I came in buckets. I was in lust for sure and maybe love. I smiled up at Mark and kissed me while scooping some of my cum off of my tummy and put his finger in his mouth and then into my mouth. "You taste almost as good as you look Michelle, next time I will do better for you," he promised. If he did much better I would be dead, but smiling. I clung to him for dear life. I wanted to say something, but everything I could think of sounded trite; so much for my snooty college education. I settled for caressing him and fondling his dick. It didn't take long for both of us to want to get intimate again. I wanted more than a hand job, and I was pretty sure he wanted to fuck me. I told him that. I wanted to be fucked. Mark got up on one elbow and caressed my chin. He said, "Michelle, I won't fuck you." Before I could say anything he put his finger gently on my lips and added, "I will make love to you, but never fuck you." What could I say? This guy was unbelievable. I hugged him as tight as I could. I couldn't believe it, me the jaded snooty university student started to cry. Mark gently pulled me to him. He asked why I was crying. I looked up into his worried blue eyes and told him because I was so happy. He kissed me again, and after I composed myself, I told him to hold that thought. I bounded out of bed and grabbed the lubricant in the bathroom. I jumped back into the bed and asked him to lubricate my pussy. He gave me a quizzical look, so I took some gel, put it on his fingers and placed his hand where it needed to be. Mark turned out to be a quick learner. While he massaged my inner most parts, I lubed his dick. When we were done I lay back on the bed and stuck a pillow under my butt. I spread my legs and put my arms out for my lover. Mark placed himself over me and gently positioned his dick at the entry to my man pussy. I smiled up at him and told him not to worry I wanted him in me more than anything in the world. He slowly pushed into me. I could see that he was worried he was going to hurt me. I pushed up to take him. Soon he was all the way in me. He started to slowly move in and out of me. He kissed me and told me how wonderful it was to be making love to me and with me. If our first ejaculations of the night were for lust this was definitely for love. We were oblivious to everything but making each other feel good. I had my legs wrapped around him. He easily supported my weight and kept a steady assault on my prostate. I couldn't believe he was lasting this long, but I was sure glad he was. I didn't know how long we had been locked together when I knew I was about to cum. I cried out his name and I wrapped a dozen "I love yous" and "Cum with mes" around it. I started to buck faster and he grunted, "Oh Michelle, I am cumming." And we both did. I had never felt better in my life. I was loved as a woman. I was cherished. I never wanted him out of me. I said, "Mark, just stay on top of me. I want you in me as long as possible." "I never want to leave," he whispered. We stayed as one for too short a time. As he slid out of me he slid to my side and lifted my chin and whispered again, "Michelle, how can I ever tell you how wonderful that was. You are an amazing woman." We were about to have our first argument over who was more wonderful and amazing. Luckily the argument ended in laughter and make up sex. Neither of us got much sleep. I awoke Sunday morning around 11:00 and carefully slid out of bed. I figured I must look at mess; and I was leaking badly. I walked gingerly to the bathroom and did what I could with my makeup and my leakage problem. I looked in the mirror to check myself out and realized I couldn't stop smiling, and I didn't care. What a night and I hoped what a Sunday. I put on my Michelle robe and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. I wished now that I had bought some bacon and eggs. We could use the fuel! The smell of the coffee must have awakened Mark. He came into the kitchen wearing a bath towel. It was then that I noticed he actually had washboard abs. Wow compliments, good looks, a big hard dick, washboard abs, and a former virgin! He came right up to me, and lifted me up, sat me on the counter and kissed me good morning. "Good morning beautiful. You are the most amazing person in the world. I love you," he said with his beautiful smile. Oh my god, he said he loved me! I wanted to go straight to Las Vegas and make it legal. I kissed him right back and said that he was stuck with me, because I loved him too. The coffee could wait. We went back to bed and before I knew it he was kissing me and working down to my neck, my nipples, my stomach and then he took my dick into his mouth and started to kiss it. He looked up at me and whispered, "I love you." It didn't take long for me to cum. I warned him I was cumming, but all he did was speed up and he took my cum and swallowed it with a huge smile. I could tell he was pleased with himself. I could tell that he felt like he did something for me. That was Mark. We made love again that day, and then he had to get back to school. Neither of us wanted to be apart, but we had to graduate! Mark had practice and games all week. He also had to be in the dorm three nights. So plans were made for Wednesday. I would go to his baseball game and then we would go to dinner. I walked Mark out to his car, and gave him what I hoped was a kiss that would last until Wednesday. I went back into my apartment and tried to revert to Michael. I had to study; I had a test on Tuesday. I had to change the sheets. But I couldn't go back to Michael. Instead I took a long languorous bath and thought about my hero. Needless to say I by Monday morning I was Michael. I attended class but my mind was on Wednesday. I was equal parts excited to see my hero again and just as scared to be out on a Wednesday afternoon at a sporting event dressed as Michelle. Wednesday was a warm gentle early spring day. I wore a cute light blue blouse with a peter pan collar (remember it was 1970) and white shorts. I wore ankle sox and white Keds. I arrived at the game about ten minutes early and was treated to a kiss from Mark who ran up into the stands when he saw me. He really looked good in his uniform. He was number six on your program but number one in my heart. He also had a "C" on the front of his jersey. I realized he never said if he even played, and he was the captain of the team. I never was any good at sports, but I did play two years of little league before I begged my mother to let me take dance. So I did have some appreciation of the game. Mark was the star of the team. He went three for four. He hit a home run and two doubles along with some stellar defense at first base. Plus, I discovered he was left handed. His team won 6 to 3. After the game he came back up to the stands and kissed me again, his time to hoots and hollers from his teammates. Mark calmly turned around, waved to them and kissed me again, this time with an exaggerated dip. Several of the players came up to us and wanted to know who I was. Mark introduced me as, "Guys, this is Michelle McKinney; I am hoping she'll be my girlfriend." More hoots and hollering, followed by one of the guys on the team suggesting that I go out with him, not Mark, "since Mark is such a dork." All I could do was smile and hug him around the waist. They could tell they had no chance. I was there with Mark. Mark asked if I would mind waiting a few minutes while he showered and changed, then could I go to dinner with him? I told him, "Take your time. I will be right here when you get out of the locker room. As for dinner, I have some pasta, a salad and a great bottle of wine. Why don't we dine at Casa Michelle?" His smile told me that would be great, and he ran off to join his teammates. True to his words it was only a few minutes until he was loping out of the gym. As I watched him I saw how graceful he was for such a big guy. That fact hit me when I hugged him earlier. It was the first time I stood next to him in flats. He was 6'4" and just so at home in his body as he seemed to be in his mind. I needed to talk to him about his seemingly endless self-confidence. We walked hand in hand to his car and headed off to my apartment for dinner and sex. Mark was becoming a magical lover. He was tender and loving and always made sure that I fell asleep in his arms totally satisfied. I asked him to move in with me, but of course he couldn't because of his resident assistant job. We discussed the possibility of him moving in after graduation and he said that could work. After two weeks of sex, baseball and silliness Mark said it was time for me to experience the south side. He proposed going to a White Sox game on Saturday afternoon, and then completely blew me away by inviting me to his parents' home for a family barbeque on Sunday afternoon. I readily agreed to the Sox game, but meeting his parents? We had to talk. Basking in the glow of glorious lovemaking I propped myself up and looked at my hero; I loved him and wanted to be with him, but was scared to meet his parents. "Mark, about Sunday," I began, not sure where I would go with this, "I really want to meet your family, but as much as you make me forget that I am not a real girl...yet...I don't think your folks or your family will accept you dating a boy in a dress. Let's wait on the meet the parents decision." "Michelle, you have met my friends, my teammates, I am proud to be with you. To me you are Michelle. To them you are Michelle, most importantly you are Michelle. Since we met has anyone other than that stupid cop thought you were anyone other than Michelle? When you wake up in the morning and look in the mirror, who looks back at you, Michael or Michelle? My family, just like me, will see only Michelle. They will see their son proudly showing off his girlfriend, his beautiful girlfriend." How could this guy be like this? I asked if he had ever harbored thoughts of being gay, he said no. I asked if his parents would understand if they knew if I was a cross dresser, he said no. I asked why he was so confident and at ease with me, there was nothing in his upbringing, his character that would want him to have anything to do with me. Mark kissed me gently on the lips, and pulled me close to him, he softly said, "Michelle, when I walked into that bar two weeks ago, I saw you sitting there and if there was ever love at first sight that was it. I don't know how it happened, or why it happened, but the first moment I laid eyes on you I knew I had to get to know you. I was on my way over to introduce myself when that moron tried to hassle you. While I am sorry you had to suffer that indignity, I am glad I was there to get rid of him and his friends. Chances are without that you might have told me to take a hike. Once we were outside with the cops and I got a to see you up close, I was even more convinced that the beautiful woman standing next to me was going to be an important part of my life. When the cop started to harass you, it was as bad as the drunks harassing you. I felt a need to protect you that I never felt before. I have to admit I was surprised...maybe shocked...to find out you weren't a girl, but for some reason it didn't seem to matter. I had to get to know you. The more I know you, the more I know my first impression was right. I have said something to you I have never said to any woman, I have said I love you; and I do. I never want you to be afraid; I want to be with you and protect you, and to make love to you right now." Mark started to kiss me and caress me. I was in a dream like state. This guy had spun a web around me that had me completely smitten. He worshipped my body: my toes, my calves, every inch of me, finally taking my dick, which I had now taken to calling my clitoris, into his mouth and bringing me to yet another toe curling orgasm. Once he laid back on the bed he tried to take me in his arms yet again, but I said no. I got on top of him and lowered myself onto his dick, and we gasped in unison. He felt so good; I slowly rode up and down his shaft whispering all the inanities that lovers whisper. I wanted him inside of me, but now I knew I wanted him inside me as a complete woman. I was no longer Michael. I was only Michelle, and Michelle was going to make her man cum inside of her and she was going to have him go back to the dorm sated. I sped up and he pulled me into him. He started to pump up and down on the bed, and suddenly all I had to do was hold on and enjoy the ride. I was going to cum again, and I knew he was going to flood my butt with his love. Aaaahhhh, he was amazing. Mark had to leave and get back to the dorm, but he left with my promise to go and meet his parents on Sunday. We were doomed to telephone conversations Thursday and Friday, Mark had a road game on Thursday and Friday he was trapped working in the dorm. But Saturday we would be together. He came over at nine o'clock and we had breakfast before the game, but before breakfast we had a wonderful time in bed. I had become obsessed with having him in me. Whether I was on top or he was on top or even occasionally when he was behind me...but Mark didn't like that, he said he wanted to be able to see my beautiful face when we made love. He was amazing. It was always making love; never fucking, screwing, sex or any other word; always love; and it had become love for me. The baseball game was way more fun than I thought it would be. I wasn't and am not today a sports fan. Mark loved baseball, and was not just a very good player; he was quite the student of the game. As always, he knew people at the park. He knew ushers and vendors. The most amazing part of the event was prior to the game we walked all the way down to the home dugout and Mark knew the manager of the team! Evidently he was a much better player than even I thought he was. The Sox had been scouting him, and Don Gutteridge the Sox manager had him hit one day before we met. The tickets were second row next to the dugout and the manager talked to Mark about five times during the game. Staying with our south side weekend we ate a local restaurant on the southwest side, and once again, I was introduced, "as the prettiest girl I have ever met, and how lucky am I to have her as my girlfriend," by Mark. I was almost starting to believe the pretty part, and I think I did believe I was his GIRL friend. At dinner I asked why he didn't tell me about the Sox, and he said that it really wasn't a big deal, they scout lots of guys. He didn't think anything would come of it. The manager liked him, but he wasn't thinking he'd be playing ball after college. He was amazing. I don't think he was overly humble, but he was so self assured and comfortable in his own skin that the idea of bragging was anathema to him. We made our way back to my apartment and I had both of us in a frantic state. As I snuggled next to him in to car, I was kissing his neck, his ear and rubbing his crotch. He laughingly asked that I stop; he said he didn't want to get us killed. I replied that if we both went out with boners the cops would be scratching their heads for weeks. Mark parked and we raced hand in hand to my place. I opened the door, walked in and then turned and literally jumped on him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and held on tight as we waddled to the bedroom. Mark was once again more than amazing. In the few short weeks we were together he had learned every inch of my body. He knew exactly how to make me feel absolutely magical. As I think back, I never sensed that he was in charge of our love making, but he had simply taken charge. It was like everything he did, it was effortless and wonderful. Mark stayed over Saturday night, and after another wonderful morning in bed, it was time to head south to meet Mark's family. I was a complete wreck. I was so nervous that I changed outfits three times and screamed at least twice. Mark just looked up from the paper he was patiently reading and laughed. He simply said I looked wonderful and whenever I was ready we could leave. As we drove down the Dan Ryan Expressway I was pensive. How awful would this be? I didn't want Mark to become an outcast from his family. I finally asked him to turn around and take me home. He just laughed and said I was worried about nothing. As it turned out I was worried about nothing. Mark's family expected to see a 5' 6" brunette named Michelle McKinney and that is what they saw. The thought that I might not be a woman never even occurred to them. His dad was just like Mark, a gentle giant. He was a Chicago fireman. Mark's mom was a trim dark haired woman with dancing blue eyes who hugged me, held me at arm's length and said, "So you are the colleen who has stolen my son's heart! You are all this young man talks about. Now I see why." I blushed and stammered something. Luckily she moved her attention to Mark. I was introduced to his three younger brothers and two younger sisters. All of them were wonderful to me and accepting. I wasn't too worried about the boys, they gave me a pretty good once over, decided Mark made a good choice, and moved back to playing ball in the back yard. I was nervous about his sisters. They were 17 and 19, and they would be more curious and discerning. But even they were only expecting a girl, and that's what they saw, and that's how I was accepted. The afternoon was too much fun. The McConnell family welcomed me into their lives and then went about theirs. They teased each other mercilessly. Mark got a lot of the teasing because I was there. He took it good naturedly and while I am sure he held back because I was there he did give almost as good as he got. When it was time to go I got hugs from his mom and the girls. I got distracted waves from his brothers, and a handshake from his dad. I hated to leave. This was so much different from my family. My dad was an absentee provider. My mom tried her best, but was too busy trying to keep up with the Jones' to ever behave like these wonderful people. I never felt bad about being an only child until I walked out of Mark's home. We drove north and I could tell Mark was very pleased with how the afternoon went. He said, "See, I told you they'd love you...not as much as I do, but they do. In fact my mom took me aside and said you were a keeper." That made me all weepy, and I slid over to put my head on his shoulder. We drove silently up to my apartment. Mark couldn't stay, he had dorm duty, but he walked me into my apartment and we planned our week. He had a game Monday and Thursday, and dorm duty Tuesday and Friday. We would have dinner out on Wednesday and dinner at my place on Saturday. He kissed me goodbye and we both looked sad. It was a day we would always remember. I called my mom that night. I wanted my family to be fun too. But the phone only rang. I went to bed thinking that we could get married in two years. Mark picked me up right on time Wednesday night, but he seemed distracted. When we got to the restaurant, I asked him what was up, and he said that he got his draft notice that afternoon. It turned out he had passed the physical prior to our meeting, and he was hoping that his lottery number would be high enough to not get called. He said that he would have to report in early July. It was the first time I had seen Mark unhappy, and I wanted to take him in my arms and make it all go away. This was my guy, the army couldn't have him. This was unacceptable. I asked him what he planned to do. Would he go into the service? He said that absolutely he would go. It wasn't what he wanted, but what choice did he have? I suggested fighting it, Canada, the reserves, but none of it would work. He wouldn't be a draft dodger, he had looked into the reserves but didn't have the clout to get in, and he would just do it and get it over with as soon as possible. He said maybe he could use his baseball skills to keep him from getting shot at in Viet Nam. Needless to say the dinner was somber. We went back to my apartment and he just kissed me goodnight. I was too distraught to do anything. I promised to talk to him in the morning. I cried myself to sleep. Life isn't fair. My lottery number was 355; I was completely safe from getting drafted. I should have gotten Mark's number...I smiled the only time that night as I thought about going to take the physical and showing up in my little black dress, stiletto heels and bikini underwear. I don't think the 1970 army would be interested in me. Mark and I talked Thursday and Friday, and he sounded better and I pretended to be okay. On Saturday he came to my apartment with flowers and champagne. He said since we only had six weeks until he had to leave for Fort Leonard Wood, we were going to celebrate every day we had together. He was amazing and I started to cry. But Mark was right. We partied our brains out. We went to each other's graduation. His was way more fun. We wound up back on the south side and I met ALL of his family: aunts, uncles, cousins, and was accepted by them all. My mom came to my graduation and made excuses for my father. Mark didn't seem to mind that I graduated as Michael. We had a nice dinner and my mom went back to her hotel. I changed into some great lingerie and my cap and gown and did a striptease for Mark at my apartment that turned into the most heated sex we ever had. Mark took me into his arms and made love to me that night as if it was the last time we would ever be together. He seemed desperate to please me, and wouldn't let me do anything for him. I lost count of how many times I came, but the next morning when I awoke in his arms I knew I never wanted this to end. I forced the thought of Mark's leaving out of my mind. I extended my stay in Chicago through Mark's induction date. He got his old summer job as a life guard for the six weeks we still had together. The folks at the park district were happy to have him, and he wound up supervising the beach not far from my apartment. Mark moved in for those few weeks. I don't think his parents were too happy about it, but I was thrilled, I was Michelle 24/7. We were able to be together every night. I even went to the beach...in a bathing suit. Mark, true to himself, decided we needed to talk about the future. He said, that he certainly didn't expect me to not date while he was gone. He hoped that we could rekindle our relationship when he could see me in San Francisco on leave, and that when he was through with the army, he wanted to be with me, and only me for the rest of his life. I promised him I would be there for him, now and forever. I begged him to come to San Francisco between basic training and advanced training. We then made love and didn't talk about it again. Three days before he left for basic training Mark went back to the south side. I knew he had to do it, and I was as good about it as I could be. While he was gone I packed up all my stuff and got ready to head home to move back in with my mom. I didn't go to the airport to see him off. We went to lunch the day before and made love all afternoon. Mark had to be home to have dinner with his family that night. He invited me to be there, but I said I couldn't do it. It would be too sad, and I would only be crying and ruining the dinner. That afternoon was so wonderful. We were truly soul mates, and we were very much in love. Mark gave me a beautiful pendant with our pictures inside. He had it engraved, Mark and Michelle, 7/1/72. I looked at him quizzically, 72? He said that's when he'd be done and be back for me! When he walked out the door I cried. I was sure my life was over, I didn't want to go back to San Francisco, I wanted to marry the guy and live my life on the south side and have six kids like his mother. Then I realized what Mark had done was unfair, I wasn't a girl, I couldn't have kids, and I would never live on the south side. I just wanted him back and make everything wonderful. Within a week we were 2000 miles apart. Mark was, as you would suspect, a great correspondent. He wrote virtually every day. The military, for as dumb as they could be, weren't with Mark. They wanted to send him to Officer Candidate School. He wasn't sure, but typical Mark he wound up doing it. I started out as good a correspondent as Mark. I told him that I was going to start transitioning and was now taking hormones. I said my goal was to be a real girl when he got out of the army. I soon had a picture of lieutenant McConnell on my dresser. Unfortunately I had no plan past graduating from college, and now transitioning to become a female. I didn't want to work, and since my father was rich, I went back to school to get a masters degree in literature. God had made me book smart, and I was soon back in school and doing well. More unfortunate was the fact that I was in San Francisco in 1970, and the Viet Nam war was not a popular event. I fell into a group...not so much a group as the whole school that had no use for the war or soldiers. Before I met Mark I had smoked some dope, but not much, and none when I was with Mark. But, soon I was smoking all the time, it was the cool thing to do, and I wanted to be cool. My writing to Mark fell off. First it took two days to respond to a letter, then three finally it was at least a week or more. When asked if I was dating I started saying no. I got tired of defending a guy in the military. I became lost in the culture of the time in San Francisco. When I look back I guess I wasn't strong enough by myself to be myself. I started to be embarrassed of Mark. How ironic, me being embarrassed by him. It came to a head seven months after I had last seen him. He called my mom's house and said that he got a last minute change in plans and would be stopping in San Francisco for three days before going to Viet Nam, and wanted to spend them with me. Suddenly, I was in love again. I couldn't wait to see him. I booked us a room at a hotel in the city and bought some sexy underwear. I met him at the airport and he was amazing. He was even more handsome than I remembered. He looked thinner, and the buzz cut didn't do him any good, but he could still kiss! We cabbed it to the city and were immediately up in the room and naked. Mark was amazed, and very pleased, I must say, of my newly acquired breasts (more like bee stings), but I was proud of them. He said that I seemed softer and curvier; the boy had a silver tongue. I never got to the lingerie. After a day and a half we needed to get some air. He suggested I show him my school and my home. The house was easy, he was really impressed. Nob Hill is not a shabby place to live, and while much larger than his home on the south side, this was a house to me, not a home. We headed off to school and as we neared it, I realized he was in uniform. I tried to talk him out of going, but he would have none of it. He said he didn't care about the anti-war folks, he wasn't that enamored with it either, but he said he owed the country his best. Well, Murphy's Law went into overdrive. First he got crap from strangers on campus, which he handled fine. But when we got to my part of the campus, I ran into several folks I had been getting high with on a regular basis. What happened next is the unhappiest two hours of my life. They started by giving me grief for being with a baby killer. Mark reached around my waist and started to veer off so we could avoid them. They wouldn't have it. They continued to taunt both of us. I looked up at Mark and could see him getting angry. I had never seen him angry, and I didn't know what to do. Mark simply said, "Let's turn back; I can your campus later." I readily agreed, but my 'friends' pursued us. They wouldn't stop. Finally, Mark asked me if I knew these people, and I said yes, they were the people I hung with at school. He then asked if I liked these people, and again I said yes. He had a hurt look on his face, and I needed to reassure him at that moment, and I didn't. I looked up at my hero in his sharply creased uniform and then I looked over at my scruffy friends and made the worst decision in my life. "Mark, these are my friends, and I hope you can understand that. I agree with them on the war, and I don't know why you would leave me to go over there and kill people." That did it. He didn't respond. The hurt on his face was unbearable to look at. I said that if he loved me he'd quit the army and we'd go to Vancouver to live. When he said that was impossible I walked away. Mark went back to the hotel, got his stuff, I don't know if he waited for me, because I never went back there. In typical Mark fashion, he paid the bill before he left. I never saw him in person again. I stayed with my 'friends' that afternoon and got completely stoned. They convinced me I did the right thing. Two days later when we were out of dope, I headed home and after I cleared my head, I realized what I had done. I called the hotel, but he had been gone for over a day. I stayed in my room for three days. I was so depressed I didn't want to be with anyone. I didn't write to him. I couldn't write a cogent sentence. I cleaned up my act. I graduated with a doctorate Shakespearean literature and began teaching college in San Francisco. I completely transitioned. I was officially Michelle, and had a couple of serious affairs before I met Phil. He is an academic as well, and we just sort of came together, no pun intended. We wound up moving back to Chicago and I wound up teaching at my old snooty undergraduate university. We settled into a comfortable life. But every once and a while I would see Mark in the newspaper, he returned from Viet Nam as a decorated hero. He had opportunities to go into politics, but never did. He joked in the paper that the job didn't pay enough. He got into finance and made a fairly substantial fortune. He married a nice Irish girl from the south side, and had five kids. The obituary said that he was hit by a car while helping a woman change her tire late at night. He didn't know the lady he was helping, but she said he saw she was having trouble, so he stopped to help. I didn't realize how much of a philanthropist he was, but he had donated all kinds of money to charity. He was being a hero again, and typically he was doing it in his own unassuming way. I thought about going to the wake. I really wanted to pay my respects, but I didn't go. I wandered into Phil's study, and grabbed his hand and asked him to make love to me. I tried not to think of my hero as my husband took me to bed, but I did. Later Phil asked what got into me. I looked up and smiled and said I just needed to be held and loved.