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Kissin' Cousins by C. Cameron Table of Contents Introduction/Forward Chapter 1 - A Secret Revealed Chapter 2 - What Takes Women So Long? Chapter 3 - Party Time Chapter 4 - Dining, Dancing, and Discussions Chapter 5 - A Nightcap Chapter 6 - Angel of the Morning Chapter 7 - One From the Heart Chapter 8 - Supporting Palyers and The College Years - A Little Background Epilog - Of Sorts to Our Story Acknowledgements Introduction/Forward Ok, just a little lead-in to this story. Sometime early in 2010 on the TG Comics website, a member wrote that he/she would like to see more transformation stories where the hero-heroine wasn't transformed by magic or science fiction, or chemicals that don't currently exist, or involved in sadistic/bondage type scenarios (probably because TG Comics like many other story sites tends to offer all those kind fairly often). He/she just wanted a simple fairly believable transformation story. I'm not an artist, so I had no designs on creating a graphical story for TG Comics, but I thought about it and liked the challenge. I wrote one story, a totally fully rational (within reason) transformation, where our (soon to be) 'heroine' accidentally got involved with our leading man (through misunderstandings, mistaken identity, and being in the wrong place at the right time), and fell in love and they spent an interesting night together though not necessarily in that order. However, at the current ending, we guess he is most likely in love with her, but we're not sure he knows her past. And she hasn't become a complete physically appearing female yet. Nor do we know what the future holds. So many questions. While that story met the basic requirements and I like it a lot, I felt it still wasn't quite there - because there were some uncertainties. Maybe if he found out, he would dump her. She would go on, but it would take a long time to get to that place again, because she would have to have surgery, etc. I wasn't sure I wanted her to go through all that heartbreak, even if it would make her a stronger woman. Or maybe he loved her so much he would be willing to see it through with her, because the result would be so good for them both. Or maybe she would dump him! I just didn't know what would happen, and I really like knowing (it does help in writing a good story!) So, I have tried again. This time, our plucky heroine and the leading man know each other fairly well, maybe too well almost. And they like each other (well, our heroine in male mode probably idolizes him). An interesting situation arises and our leading man is aware of some of our heroine's past and is accepting (and even encouraging), and in that new situation that our leading man sort of initiated, he accepts our heroine when she appears as a young woman. But when he spends time with her in totally unexpected moments, and sees her with others far beyond what he ever imagined, and she discovers some things about herself, their relationship develops into something much more. And the journey here is the interesting part, as are reactions by others to our couple and how events and life work their way. Fate or chance - or is there some string pulling - hmmm? That's a tough one. And of course, there is the title. Exactly how does one get around the potentially questionable parts of that one? Well, read on. Chapter 1 - A Secret Revealed I receive an unexpected but welcome call one morning in late June on my cell phone. "Greg! Hey cuz, hi, how's it going?" "Good, glad to hear...you'll be driving near by?...You know, if you'd like, I can put you up for a night. Pull out bed, of course, if that's all right." "Hey, no prob at all. That's what family is for." "That's great. Sure. See ya then." Now that I have my own place, I feel good about having company, and my cousin, Greg, is coming in for a visit. He is my father's sister's son and he is 21 (and I'm just about 20, though I look a little younger) and we have become friends over the years, but lately only occasionally get the chance to see each other mostly at family functions as we now live several hundred miles apart. But even after my parents broke up and then his mother recently passed away, we have still kept up a friendship. He's fairly big, maybe 6ft 3 or so, not quite a man's man, but masculine, very sure of himself, and seldom prone to boasting or harassing others. A friendly type of guy, one who others enjoy being around. I'm rather slight, slender actually, barely 5ft 9, still light facial hair, light brown hair, green eyes. Not terribly athletic but I get by as appearing very average, though I did some running in school, the only sport I was sort of good at. I would have considered gymnastics as I am fairly limber, but for the boys, it takes a tremendous amount of upper body strength. I always envied the girls events as they seemed closer to what I might be able to do, and found interesting. Greg isn't bad looking either (ok, I guess he's handsome, but I try not to notice), and I know he has a pretty active dating life having steady girlfriends. He has been attending one of the state colleges near where he lives with plans to transfer to a fairly exclusive private college in the coming fall term to start an advanced degree in management; he has had to save because of the cost - the college is very expensive; and it is actually closer to where I am now living. For a number of years, I had always looked up to him mostly because he is quite friendly and always has time for me, and me being younger and not quite so worldly, that has been quite appealing to me. (And of course he IS taller) In some ways, I sort of idolized him, and at times wished I could have had his good looks or good fortune or whatever. And in very personal moments, I wondered what being his girlfriend might be like, but I would quickly dismiss those thoughts as weird. But still... In place of that, I just really liked being with him. And I always had the feeling he truly liked me around. Not exactly like love, but more than just a casual friendship. I should say here that my 'father' is really my step-father but he was the father I grew up with and he was decent to me, but my mother divorced him like she did my natural father, when I was young, so while Greg and I grew up as cousins, actually we aren't related except through marriage. But we have always treated and accepted each other as cousins. I also have a decent relationship with both my fathers, we talk several times a year and they remember my birthday, and on rare occasion when one of them is nearby, he takes me to dinner. I have just received my associate's degree from the local community college and have been working a very part time job, two days a week (they didn't want me to quit after school ended), and taking the rest of the time off. I will be looking for a fulltime job in the fall. I have saved a fair amount of money from odd jobs and from living at home and (with another little one still at my home - a half sister) with a small inheritance such as it was, I received upon turning 18 from my actual dad (he wanted to do something for me as I'm his only heir) and his family, I had decided it was time to strike out on my own. I should also say that I am a very closeted cross-dresser, though I do date girls and enjoy being with them. A number of them have found me 'cute' and 'fun to be with', though I'm not sure I look that good. Actually I always seem to have a fair number of girls who are good friends and I guess because I am outgoing and friendly pretty much with them (maybe more so than with other guys, I try not to think about it), and maybe because even though I'm a guy, I will actually listen to them, so they made their boyfriends treat me, not exactly with respect or dignity, but with grudging acceptance. I can deal with that. I've had guy friends, too, none terribly close, and most about my social level. We get along, like each other, sometimes do things together. They accept me, although sometimes I think they wonder about me, but since I'm a friendly type, they appreciate that, someone who will listen and hang out. Now that I am on my own, I do have a closet with my en femme clothes in it, but still hidden more or less in the back and I still get into dress when I know I'll be totally alone. Perhaps I may even be transgendered, I don't think so, but.... I have no interest in going to see a therapist. And I have no problem with same sex or any kind of lifestyle, I just know what I like and want. So, with Greg passing through on his way to visit the college and begin getting into the student life there and all, I have now invited him to stay the night with me - on the pull out couch, as I only have a one bedroom. He's happy with that as it saves him a motel bill, and where I live is not that far off from the direction he is traveling. He arrives only a little late, which is typical for him. We hang out and have a beer, and just talk. I have beer available for times like this even though I tend to prefer wine. And, I really am liking this. His smile is infectious, and his manner is warm and friendly. We talk, about sports a little, current events not as much, and laugh and reminisce about the family parties we attended together. And then Greg gets a little quiet for a moment, like he's thinking about something else. I hope I'm not boring him, but then he perks up. "So, Mikey," Greg likes to use nicknames, "you got any girls on the line? How's your love life?" "Eh, a little slow now I guess. When I get a full time job this fall, I'll see what's going on, get back into it, you know. How's yours?" "Yeah I hear you, not so good right now for me either. Leanna and I split a couple of months ago and with me heading off to a new college this fall, I thought, like you, I'd take it easy till then. But I sure do miss a nice soft girl to be with." "Yeah, I know what you mean." He looks at me for a moment and then takes a breath, "Mikey, I'm gonna be..straight with you. We're both adults, now, right?" He pauses as if he isn't sure of the words, but I don't notice much. I'm just curious where he's going. "Uh, right, I suppose so, and what?" "And we know each other fairly well, cousins and all that. We can be...upfront with the other, right?" "Yeah, I guess. Sure. What?" "Well, to put it brief, and hear me out, I, well, um, how do I put this..." He pauses and I say, "Look, whatever it is, just tell me. It can't be that bad, can it?" "Well, since you put it that way, okay, I, uh, well, I know about your, um, little, ah, secret." Ohmygod, is he saying what I think? What do I do now? "My s.secret?" I try to cover. "Look," he takes a deep breath, "ever since we've known each other, you know, you've always been a great guy, never any trouble, easy to get along with, and I know you've dated some. And I really like you. But, well, I, uh, know about the..the clothes. And really, I just want you to know that it's all right with me. It really, truly is." "Uh..." I don't know what to say. "You know, I have both gay and lesbian friends and I don't see anything wrong with what they do. Hey, whatever turns you on, as long as both, um, parties or whatever are ok with it, it's ok by me." "Oh. Ok." "I just want you to know that even though you may be a little embarrassed, I am really fine with it." I am turning a little red faced. What do I say, I can't believe he knows. Ok, just admit it, I guess. "Uh, how, um, long have you, uh, known?" "Well, several years now. A while back when I was visiting your house, I found some things. I was careful not to disturb them, but, you know, I suspected. With you seeing girls and saying you always had a good time and all, and no mention of guys and everything, I figured you probably weren't gay, so that left, uh, what's the term? Transvestite?" "Actually, cross-dresser is preferred, I believe," just take deep breaths, it will be ok, I hope. "Oh. Ok, cross-dresser it is." There is a pause and quiet for a moment, then he says, "Um, can I ask about it?" I take another deep breath, "I guess, just, uh, please don't get too personal." He is taking this an awful lot better than I could ever have imagined. I hope it keeps going well. I'd sort of like this to end, but at the same, I find it a little relieving to be able to tell someone. I'm just not that prepared. "Yeah, ok, I can understand that. Um, so...how long have you been doing it?" "Uh, I guess since I was about 5, maybe earlier." "Wow! That long, huh. Hmmm. I never knew, or even guessed. Anyone else know?" "I don't think so. I hope not. But, well, if you know..." "Hey, don't worry; I'll never tell anyone or use it against you in any way now or ever in the future. Please believe me." "I guess I have to, but thanks." "I mean it. My word is good, you know that." "Yeah." It is, as far as I know. "Just one more question, I guess. If it's all right?" "Ok, one more," I sigh. So far so good. "Do you do it often?" Hmmm, that's a tough one. "Well, you know, I do have that part time job two days a week, so I just try to keep it to the weekends, but not every one. It varies, I guess." After a moment where we're both in thought, he says, "Hey, you know, if you ever want to have someone to see how you look, just ask. I make no judgments about who you are, maybe suggestions if I can offer any." That caught me of guard, wow! "Mmmm, I.I don't know. I'm not sure I could, but thanks." He looks at me a little funny, "Uh, this may be asking a lot, but could I, um, maybe see what you do have?" Oh, wow! "I...I don't know. I've, uh, never showed them to anyone." "Hey, you know, it's all right, only if you want to." I think for a moment, Greg is being really great about this. He is family and having someone know supposedly makes things a little easier, I've heard. Maybe it's true; maybe I want it to be true. I sigh, screw up my courage and say, "Ok, I guess. But just some of the regular clothes. Nothing else, you know?" "Right." "And if you have a problem, I really don't want to hear it. I'm trusting you in a big way on this, you know." "Yeah, I understand. No judgments. I got it." I really hope so. This is sort of scary, but...well, I don't know. We go into my bedroom and I pull out some of my assortment of skirts, tees, blouses, tanks, and dresses, slacks, jeans. What will he say? Will he run out screaming? Get sick? What am I doing? And another surprise, "Hmmm, nice things, you've certainly got style, everything looks current, I see. Wouldn't surprise that all look good on you, too, I would think." "Thanks," I put them away, wondering if I did the right thing and hoping his remark was really a compliment. It sounded that way. I hope. I wonder if the beer affected me, too. I don't drink a lot. I wonder if Greg affected me. Uh, don't think that. Not a good idea. Then he asks, "Ok, thanks for trusting in me, I appreciate that; so, anyway, hey, you want to get something to eat? My treat?" "Sure." We go out and he doesn't mention any more of it, which I'm glad about. He appears to be taking it in stride as nothing changes about the way he is treating me. He surely hasn't bolted for the door. I guess if he suspected that long, he probably has had a good chance to get used to it. I hope so. And then in the morning he leaves and I don't see him again for over a month. I do wonder about his knowing, if it will cause me problems. I certainly hope not. Chapter 2 - What Takes Women So Long? One weekend in early August, I have plans on dressing for Friday night through Sunday. It's actually rather quiet on the weekends as the management really frowns on big time parties except at the club house. So, I do the usual Friday night routine, pull out some simple clothes, maybe a skirt and blouse, low heels, a wig, panties and a bra and my inserts, and then try some cosmetics. I actually am starting to learn how to do it from reading magazines and the internet and all. On Saturday morning, I get up and am wearing a little nightie/slip, with a nice print, and a wig. I pad out to the kitchen and get some juice and a piece of toast and then go back and put on a skirt and a tank top and sandals with low heels (and appropriate lingerie). I refresh my make-up and plan to spend a quiet day just relaxing, doing a few chores, reading, maybe watching a movie on Lifetime or Logo. Hey, both run an interesting movie every now and then. To my surprise about 11, my cell phone rings. I'm not expecting anyone, but no reason not to, so I answer it. It's Greg. "Hey, Mikey, how ya doin'?" "Pretty good, I guess, what's going on?" "Well, I was passing through and thought I'd stop and say hello, and anyway, if it's all right, I really need to use the facilities. If it's all right?" "Uh, well," what do I do now, I hate changing back, but he is a friend and almost relative. "Ok, I guess, where are you?" I should be able to do it fairly quick, I hope. "I'm coming up the stairs right now. Thanks!" And before I can do anything there's a knock on the door. Oh, good Lord, what do I do now? "Uh, just a minute." Ohmygod, ohmygod. Think. "Hey, Mikey, I really need to use the facilities if you know what I mean." Ok, he did say that he knew. And he suggested he wouldn't mind seeing me in dress. He has seen these clothes; I suppose he could have imagined them on me, anyway. I sure hope this doesn't go bad. I should tell him to go away, but I can't. Ulp, here goes. "Uh, Greg, I'm going to let you in, but go straight to the bathroom, don't look around, don't say a word. Promise?" "Uh, yeah, I guess. Could you hurry?" I unlock the door and pull back sort of half behind it and he breezes in. "Thanks, you're a pal." He really doesn't look around much and heads straight to the bathroom. And then just as he goes in, he glances back and says, "Oh. I understand. Hey, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to cause any problems. You know, it's really ok. I still mean it." And he closes the door. What do I do now? My heart is beating a mile a minute. Somebody has seen me...and knows. I close the shades a little, turn off the lights, and it is darker, with sunlight barely getting in. I sort of lean against the arm of the stuffed chair and wait. In a moment, there's the flush, and sound of running water in the wash basin. And then he comes out, or almost does. "Uh, ok to come out? Say the word, and I'll be on my way." I sigh, "No, don't rush, unless you have to." I sort of expect him to. I might. "But I am what I am, and now you're going to see a part of me. I'm just a little shy, and very nervous about all of this, so please just deal with it." He comes out and sees me against the chair. I'm looking down and barely glance up. He sizes me up fairly quickly and says, "Well, I'll tell you this, if I didn't know, I'd say I'm looking at a young woman. Not drop dead gorgeous but not that bad either." "Thank you." At least he didn't laugh or try to find something cute to say. And it could be just the dim lighting, but I'll accept it. "Really! I mean it. Um, can I sit?" I nod, "I guess," and sit too, as he plops on the sofa across from me. My legs are together, slightly bent to the side, my hands folded in my lap, I try not looking at him. He continues, "No really, you do look rather, uh, ladylike. And actually, I was wondering what you'd look like, I mean, I've seen a number of, you know, drag queens - at those shows in the city - and I hope I'm complimenting you, but you look a whole lot better than any of them, more natural, I guess." I smile a little, looking up, and say, "Thanks." "Hey, you know, that smile on you is sort of attractive. Be careful if you ever go out, you'll have guys hitting on you." I laugh a little, maybe a little giggle, "Uh, it'll never get THAT far." "Well, at least I warned you. So, good. Hey, you know I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything, and I really appreciate you letting me in. Thanks again. Your place is so spic and span compared to most public places. If you know what I mean." "I do. And you're welcome." I know I keep it picked up more than most other guy's places I've been. Just something my mom sort of 'beat' into me, I guess. He glances at his watch, "Oh. Uh, look, I'd like to stay and talk and hang out, but I do really gotta get going." He looks at me, "And no, it not cuz I think you're embarrassing me, or me you. I really do hafta go. Thanks again." I believe he means it. He could easily have left after coming out of the bathroom. "Ok, just let me know a little in advance next time, if you can." "Yeah, ok, I'll try. And remember what I said. Watch out for unscrupulous guys!" "Sure." He heads out the door and I am up behind him, smiling all the time. He really is nice. No wonder I like him, and so do lots of others. And I sigh. He turns back to me once outside and to my surprise, looks me over again, and there is certainly more light around us. "What?" I say with a little smile as I'm a little embarrassed, but also just a little pleased. I'm glad no neighbors are around. That would be something. "Actually you are sort of cute." I look down a little more embarrassed and say, Uh, thank you." "Really!...Bye." "Bye." And he's gone. I take a deep breath. Wow, I can't believe I did it. I hope he wasn't just humoring me. It sounded like he was being very honest. I hope. And he said I was 'cute'. I like that. I am flushed and I have to sit for awhile and think about it all. And for the rest of the day and Sunday, I am in a really happy mood, and I experiment more with my make-up and try on different combinations. The rest of the summer is quiet, although I do think about Greg and what he said, especially when I'm dressing. As I try on different combinations, I wonder if he would like them. And I dismiss those thoughts as fantasy. But he calls unexpectedly the third Saturday morning after his schooling has started. His college is a little over an hour away. I've started looking for a job, not overly serious yet, but I have sent some resumes out and I have some possible leads. One place seems promising and wants a little more information. I have just gotten up, when my cell phone rings. I'm just regularly dressed. I pick up the phone and it's Greg and he says he's several minutes away and could he stop by. I say, "Sure, thanks for calling." I'm glad he remembered. I pick up some things and in about five minutes there's a knock on my door. At least he gave me time. "Ok, ok, I'm coming." I open the door and it's Greg, of course. He seems a little flustered. I wonder what's going on. "Mikey, I'm so glad you're home," he looks me over and shrugs slightly. "Uh, do you by chance, have plans for today...and tomorrow, too, possibly? That you, uh, couldn't change, if you had to?" "Well, no, I don't think so. What's up? Um, come on in, I guess. Sorry the place isn't better looking. You can sit down if you want." I was thinking to do some serious cross-dressing later, but I guess that's on hold. The apartment actually is fairly well picked up and clean. He sits down on the couch and I follow and sit in the chair. "Good, that's great. Mikey, friend, cousin, I need a really big favor from you." "Uh, I'll try, what is it?" "I mean really big." "Uh, tell me what it is and I'll see if I can help in any way." "I do need your help, in a big way. Well, you see, it's, um, like this," and he stands and continues, "You see, there's this big thing, get together and all, going on tonight at the college but it's couples only, and, well, my date I thought I had, well, she called late Thursday and begged off, some personal family issue. The problem is, that I have to be there cuz my profs will be there and, well, I can't explain it completely, you'll just have to see, but they're expecting me there with a young woman. I tried all day yesterday, but everyone's busy and..." "Oh, uh, I really don't know that many girls on a moment's notice, if that's what you want." "Well, Mikey, actually, see, um...I want you." I'm shocked as the room goes deathly quiet. "Oh," I finally say and pause and then say, "Ohhhhh." I all of a sudden see what he's getting at. I've been outside dressed, yes, once or twice, but other than him that time with Greg, never in front of anyone. "Greg, you know I like you and think of you as family and would like to help, but I really..." "Please, Mikey, it's just for a couple of hours and with what I've seen, you'll be perfect!" "Greg, well, yes, you have seen me dressed, but I have totally no experience being a girl, I doubt I could do any makeup right, fix my hair, have any idea of what goes with what so people wouldn't wonder. Even make small talk. I just can't..." "I've thought of that, and, uh, wait here, just a moment..." He gets up and goes to the door. And to my second shock he lets in an older woman maybe in her late 30's or early 40's who has a big case, and he points to me. "That's the person. Do you think it's possible?" I just sit there with my mouth open still in shock, as she comes up to me and looks me all over. "Please stand." Totally in shock I do and she turns me around and then says, "Hmmm, please take off your shirt, now, if you would." I look at Greg and he has a sheepish grin on his face, and shrugs, and not knowing what else to do I remove my shirt. Again she examines me from every angle. Them she turns to Greg. "This will not be a difficult process at all, as I had hoped from your description. Your friend here has a lot of features that can easily be highlighted and enhanced. Give me an hour or two and she'll fool practically everyone. Give me three and she'll fool her mother. Should we start?" Greg looks at me, pleadingly and with that smile, "See, told you I thought of everything. Please, I really need to be at that gathering, and with a young woman on my arm, and you know me well enough to be with me, and talk to me about anything, so that part should be a breeze. And I'll just say the truth to anyone who might ask. My original date couldn't make it, and I had a cousin who lives near by that is filling in. Everyone one will be satisfied and seeing as you're from out of town and will go back after the evening is over, you shouldn't have any problems either. And I'll stay close by. It's almost perfect. Please?" I look at both of them. This is sort of a dream I've had, not with Greg of course, but being able to go out and appear as a female in public, and here's the opportunity being handed to me. Yet, I'm just so naturally painfully shy. I doubt I could pull it off. But Greg is nice and I like him and all. And it's not like I'll be there for days, just a few hours that evening. I take a breath, and, screwing up my courage, sigh, "I don't know." "Please, Mikey, for me, this once?" Another sigh, and "Um, I'm sure I'll hate myself, and no doubt, mess up big time. Just be prepared for that. But, well, ok, I guess, for you. But I will definitely back out if I don't think I'll pass." "Silly boy, of course you'll pass. I'm an expert at this," the woman says. Greg shrugs with a smile. "My name is Yvonne and what's yours?" "Michelle," says Greg quickly. Obviously he has thought this part out. "I think that will be perfect and if I accidentally say Mikey, no one will get suspicious. Yvonne smiles merrily at that, "Pleased to meet you, Michelle. Shall we get started?" I guess I agreed. Oh well, "I, uh, sure, I guess." And she begins to go to work on me. Greg stays for a little while, a little nervous and pacing around a little, then says he has some errands to run and will be back later. Yvonne seems to know about them. She says to Greg before he leaves, "You do want this done right, right?" "Best you can do, whatever it takes." "Ok, good, it will be probably 3 PM before I'm done, maybe 4, but she will be perfect. And I would say an 8, maybe a 10, and our number 3 choice should work fine." Greg chuckles and leaves. I have no idea what they're talking about as she proceeds to give me a full blown makeover as she has a complete cosmetics case including several wigs. But after looking me over, she decides rather than a wig, she will put hair extensions in. But first she drags me into the bathroom, runs a hot bath and fills the water with oils and bubbles. She has me get in and just relax for a few moments and she produces a glass of wine. To my hesitation at getting undressed, she says, "I've seen everything, and nothing you can do or have, will cause any problems with me. Trust me." Considering she is almost too busy to really notice me, I take my clothes off. When I'm in the tub, she says, "Things go much better when you're relaxed." And she brings out some scented candles and lights them. After too few moments (well, ok, maybe 15 or so), as I'm really beginning to enjoy this, she has me get out and towels me off. Still, I am feeling very relaxed and luxurious right now. And then sitting me down, she proceeds to pluck my eyebrows, remove any vestige of hair from my arms and legs, and helps me shave around my crotch. And with some creams she applies I am now very smooth, and my skin seems to look softer and actually feels softer. While she applies the different products, I'm wrapped up in a large soft towel from just below my arms and down to my thighs. She seems to know how to make someone feel feminine She then fills the sink with water or something and pulling in a chair has me sit back towards the sink and lean back and she washes my hair. She doesn't say much, but hums a little and seems very happy with what she is doing. She wraps it up with a smaller towel after drying it a little and says, "Ok, now with the make-up." I ask a question or two, even offer suggestions, and she is responsive to them, very pleasant and attentive, although she sometimes seems surprised by my questions and comments. I'm actually feeling very feminine with the towels around me, the candle scents, the wine taking effect. She expertly applies the makeup, first with a little moisturizer, then putting on conditioner, and foundation, blush, lip gloss, eye liner, mascara, eye shadow, eye brow pencil. She looks a me for a moment, then goes out and comes back and says, "This will prick twice but it will be quick and not very painful" And before I can say anything she has placed an ice cube on one ear lobe and pierced it. "I...I" "Sh, now, Michelle. Your friend, Greg, said 'everything'. And if you don't want them later, don't use them and they will close up. Lots of males wear earrings now. And nobody notices pierced ears today at all. Except on women who don't have them." She pierces the other and places medium sized hoops in each, "We would start with just studs first, but you need to look your best tonight. These are very light, and the bars are top of the line hypoallergenic, so they should work." "I do know a little about these. Will you show me how to keep them clean and all?" She smiles and nods as she stands back and looks me over carefully, "Of course, dear." She glances at me again saying, "Ok, I was thinking about this. Let's make your eyes really pop." She adds false eyelashes above and below. Not long but very full. When finished, she goes to work on my nails. She first works on my toenails, filing them and smoothing them, then applying nail polish. Then she goes to work on my fingers. As she looks them over, I ask, "They're pretty short, will you be using press-ons?" "Actually, dear, I was thinking acrylics, or perhaps gel. They take a little longer but I think gel will be better." Because they look so attractive, when she is finished, I put out of my mind that it may take some time to get them off. I can barely admire them when she goes to work on my hair, combing it out and carefully adding extensions. While attaching them, she works completely around my head, and does not allow me to look in the mirror at all. She has to trim some, to get the right look. Then she finishes it by using a blow dryer, styling comb and brush and a little light spray. When she is done I can feel the hair, now my hair, since the glue seems pretty secure, falling down around and even well below my shoulders. And what wisps I see, are definitely blonder than my natural color. What have I gotten myself into, I wonder, as I realize she probably colored my hair, too. She looks me all over and smiles and says, "You do look very pretty. I'm sure your friend will be pleased." "Can I see?" "No, not yet. We still have to do some things." She has me come in the bedroom, and sit on the bed and then carefully lay back. "I'm going to do some re-arranging here. You may think it embarrassing but I've done a lot of this over time. From what I have seen so far, you're nothing special, but nothing to be ashamed of, just normal." She pulls back the towel that has been wrapped around me from my chest to my thighs, exposing my lower abdomen and crotch area. "I understand. Can I do anything to help?" "Thank you, that's all right. Just lay there and I'll take care of everything. We certainly don't want this giving anything away, do we?" I know what she's talking about. It's my male parts. I can imagine a little of what she will be doing. I should be embarrassed but I'm way past that point now. Mostly I'm wondering what I will look like. She sprays something down there and then starts adjusting things. Yes, I know, she is going to tuck and all that. I've tried that, not totally successfully. We'll see. In a moment she is done and she stands back and admires her work. I can feel things are different. "There, that should do it. I'll put a mirror here so you can see what I've done." And she does and I'm beyond surprised as there is little to no hint of any male appendage or ball sac. Just a fleshy covering that looks like it's all mine and looks rather womanly actually. "What did you do?" "Just tucked things out of the way. And if you have to use the facilities, just be very careful, and sit down always, just like we girls have to do, and make sure you wipe carefully. You should be able to relieve yourself, it will just take a lot longer as us girls have a lot to consider. I've used a little surgical tape, too, which should hold for a day or more, if you're careful." She goes to the bathroom and brings back a glass of water and gives me some kind of pill. "Here, take this, and there are more in this case. Take one every 6 or so hours until they're gone." "Uh, what do they do?" "If for some reason you may get some, um, male urges, this will make sure your boy thing stays small and soft. If it did what it could do, you could be in a lot of pain. Believe me. It's for your own good." I can imagine and I take the pill and make a note of the pill case. I don't recognize the word on the label, Androcur, but there is a Canadian address. There is noise in the other room. It must be Greg coming back. Yvonne goes to the door, saying to me, "No peeking at yourself. Promise?" "Yes," sighing I lay back. I hear them in the other room. She has got him to promise no peeking either until I'm ready. And she comes back carrying some packages and a bag. "Just a few more things and you'll be all ready." She brings out some panties, pinkish and a little frilly and they have slight padding in them. "Please put these on." I do and they go on, and looking down, there is just a smooth crotch. Then she brings out a very thin fleshy colored tube thing. It's a waist cincher. She has me put it on, and I can see it's giving me a figure. It is very light, but very strong, and I will have to relearn some breathing as I can't possibly inhale with my lower area. "You have a decent figure but this will give you the curves that men expect. And it will make you breath more correctly and it will keep you from wanting to eat a lot. All things that are expected of girls." Yvonne then looks at me and says, "I don't usually ask because I have a pretty good idea of what size breasts would look good, but I'm going to ask. What size would you like?" When I've dressed and thought about breasts I've always wanted ones fairly large. And, now? "Yesterday, even a few hours ago, I might have said, 'as large as possible,' but right now, I think that what would be appropriate for my size would really be the right choice." She nods and looking at me carefully, says, "A very intelligent and mature response. I'm liking you a lot, Michelle. Now, let's see what we have." And she looks through her supplies and finds what she's looking for. They are breast forms and they are very lifelike, very close to my skin tones and very medium sized. She brings out an adhesive and attaches them to me. When on, they look quite real but if you look close you can see the seam line even though it blends quite well. I wonder what I'm going to wear. As if to answer, she pulls out a greenish/teal dress from one of the bags that she got from Greg. It is really very attractive. And I notice that it has a slight built in bra. She helps me on with it and it's a one shoulder sarong type dress, fairly tight, over my left shoulder. My breast forms fill the bra correctly and the seam lines are covered. I can imagine how I look. "Just about finished" She hands me some bracelets and I put them on my right wrist. Then she pulls out some strappy sandals that have about a two inch heel, and helps me on with them. "Do you have experience in heels?" "A little, I'm glad you didn't get five inch spikes" "Actually I do have 4+ inch heels in here. I want to see if you can handle these. If you can, then we'll try the higher ones." She has me walk around in them and I do reasonably well, which means I will pay for it! "Good, now let's try the big girl ones." I laugh at that, and put them on and it is so different. "They will be difficult and a little painful, but you will look very attractive in them. They're just over four inches but with your shape and figure they will really make your legs stand out." I totter around in them almost falling but I learn my balance point. She's right, they are a little uncomfortable right now. I'll have to just get used to them "Stand still for a moment." She lightly sprays me with a perfume. I am now walking in high heels, I have a gorgeous dress that I'm filling out with very lifelike feeling breasts. My crotch is smooth, I smell wonderful. I can feel my hair down beyond my shoulders and I can feel my earrings dangling against my face and the bracelets on my wrist. I just know I look fabulous. Yvonne then says, "Ok, let's see how you look." And she lets me look in the mirror. I am shocked. I don't recognize the absolutely stunning and gorgeous young woman looking back at me. The transformation is astounding. An attractive medium blond, green eyes, perfect make-up, a body to almost die for, even full looking lips. "You like? I told you I do good work." "I..I..you're so right, my own mother wouldn't...." She laughs a little. "Now we see if your friend likes, too." "Um, Yvonne?" I just can't pull myself from the mirror. This young woman looking back at me is so stunningly gorgeous, I'm not sure who it is. "Yes, dear?" "I'm looking at this gorgeous woman in the mirror and I just don't see a Michelle, maybe not even me. Do you understand?" I just don't see it. But I think I know what I do see. She again laughs a little at that, and says, "Yes, I do understand. I don't see her either, but your friend chose that. So, who do you see? Do you have a name?" "Um, I think...Justine suits me a lot better. Yes, saying it does sound right. I'm Justine. No, wait, Justine Michelle. That is perfect." And it's like I've found me, and I didn't even know I was lost. I just know right now that this is who I am. And it makes me even happier, and maybe a little contented, too. I don't understand it fully. Sort of like a weight has been lifted, I guess. Like even with this waist cincher on, I am now breathing for the first time in a long time. She looks at me for a moment, and with a nod and a widening smile and says, "I completely agree. You are Justine. So, hello Justine, I'm happy to meet you and I'm glad you know who you are." "Hello, Yvonne, I'm happy too and I am so glad I met you." And we practically instinctively give each other a hug. As we finish, Yvonne looks at me in sort of a funny way, as if she's searching my eyes. "Is everything all right?" I ask her. "Yes, everything is fine, dear. It's just that...." "What? Is something not right?" I glance in the mirror but can find nothing that looks out of place. "Justine, everything is right. Everything," she sounds a little puzzled but I'm more thinking about how I look. I take one last look in the mirror and I say, "I guess I'm ready to show Greg what an amazing job you've done." I turn this way and that, looking at everything, and Yvonne keeps watching me intently. She comes up behind me and looks at my reflection in the mirror with me, "Justine, I may have done some things, but you brought all the basics for me to work with. It's not like you were a blank canvas waiting for an artist. More like a diamond in the rough waiting for a good diamond cutter and a polishing. I just took the beauty that was always there and gave it some enhancements to bring it out." I blush and turn from the mirror to her and smile a little saying, "I'm not so sure of that." She searches my eyes again like she's looking for something in them, "Justine, may I ask you a rather personal question?" Her saying Justine makes me know that is the right name. "Why, of course. Please ask anything you want. After all you've done, it would be rude of me to refuse." She takes a deep breath, "Thank you, could we sit a moment?" I nod and we do on the edge of the bed, and then taking my hands in hers, she continues after thinking for a moment and still looking at me rather intently, "I've helped a number of cross-dressers over the years as well as pre-operation transsexuals, boys to girls. Are you really sure that you're only just a cross-dresser?" "Pretty sure....um, well, I think I am. What do you mean?" "The way you hold yourself, the way you followed very intently all the things I did. That you didn't put up a fuss at all and even gave some suggestions, which were good, by the way. That you seemed to know just innately what a girl is supposed to do when another helps her with her make-up. How easily you took to those higher heels. Our little hug a moment ago. Even standing a moment ago and now sitting here right now. You are more girl than I've seen in many natal girls that I've worked on and more so than most of the transsexuals, and they really want it." I listen and think of all the thoughts I have had over the years. I've always been so sure that all I was, was a cross-dresser. Yes, I liked to dress very elaborately, rather than just wear say, undies. And imagine myself as girl in various situations. But still. She continues as I wonder, "Looking at you right now, it's as if I'm seeing someone I've never met before this moment. There's a, oh, I don't know how to say it." "Am I doing anything wrong, please give me an idea." "You are doing everything right. So absolutely right. I don't know, it's like I'm seeing, oh, this is silly." "Please go on. I want to know, silly or not." "Well, it's like there's some kind of inner light I'm seeing, and it's like...it just came on. No, it is silly, please forget it," she smiles at me and quickly changing the subject says, "I'm just happy that what I've done has turned out so well." She pauses a moment before going on, "I was just wondering if you've considered your own feelings." Yvonne looks at me again, waiting for an answer. "I...um, I thought so. I don't...I mean..." "You may want to talk to someone about this. It's not my place to tell people how they should live. But everything about you says you're a very nice, very attractive young woman. And people tonight will see you that way, and treat you that way. And you may find yourself in more and more situations that really require you to be this woman, where you're expected to be this woman, perhaps for more than tonight. You may want to think about this." And she adds, "If there is anything I can do to help you, an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, please call me. I don't do this very often, but, well, I like you a lot and I want the best for you." And she gives me her card after writing her personal phone number on it. "Thank you, Yvonne. I really appreciate that. I don't know. I guess I'll just have to see where tonight goes." She is being so nice to me, I really like that and I like her. "Well, let's show you off." We smile at each other and get up to go see Greg, going into the living room. I am hoping Greg likes me. He had better with all this work. We walk in with Yvonne in front of me so that Greg doesn't see all of me at once. And as Greg gets up to meet us, Yvonne says, "Greg, may I present, Justine, your date for the evening." Turning to me, "Justine, this is Greg, who I've told you about." Greg stares at me and is as speechless as I had been. I know I'm very pretty and his reaction tells me more so. And even with the heels on, I am still looking up at him. And I don't know why, but I like that a lot. Being a little more used to my appearance, I put my hand out, "It's nice to meet you, Greg." I try in a little breathy and quiet voice. I'm not a baritone but not a soprano either right now, anyway. He finally collects himself and takes my hand and my hand feels so small and almost dainty-like in his. "Wow! I mean, like...Wow! Oh, uh, it's nice to meet you, too, uh, Justine! Wow! Yvonne says, "See, I told you I do good work." Greg can't let go of my hand, turning between me and Yvonne, says, "You've done a fantastic job. Unless you're both kidding me and you snuck a re..another girl in here when I wasn't looking. But you look fabulous, Ju.Justine. I can't believe..." Yvonne cuts him off, "Greg, this is Justine, and she is your date for tonight. Treat her and consider her strictly as the young woman she is. Do you understand?" Greg looks down a little hurt, "I'm sorry. Let me try again. Justine, you are very beautiful woman. I will be proud and delighted if you would accompany me tonight." I look up at Greg and smile, "Thank you, Greg, I would be delighted. And you look very handsome. This should be a fun night. I'm looking forward to it." He lets my hand go, but very reluctantly, and he gives me a look, I'm not sure what to make of it, but it isn't unpleasant. Yvonne interrupts my thoughts with, "We need to work on just a few more things, it will probably be another hour before you can go, will that be all right?" Greg looks at his watch, "That should be perfect. Yes, perfect. Thank you, Yvonne. You've earned every penny...and then some." Yvonne smiles, "Good, I'm glad you like. Justine has so much, so many attractive features to work with, it wasn't hard at all, and actually a little fun bringing out all of them. Now, we just have to work a little on several things, Justine, first, your voice, and then getting you used to walking - and other things - around in your heels, and learning to touch up your makeup when you need to. Which you will need to do several times." She starts with my voice, and I've read a little about it, and tried it myself some times, but I'm just not that good understanding what I'm supposed to do. But since I know a little of what's supposed to happen, it becomes quite easy for Yvonne to help me find that place around my larynx and change the timbre and resonance of my voice. She is delighted that I understand and am able to respond so quickly. I find it and can stay in it. Next, while I'm talking and Yvonne is giving me suggestions on how to accent my sentences, changing how I end them and keep them short, she has me walk around in the heels, showing me how to place each foot down. Greg is fascinated as with each step as I improve, it gets my hips swinging more and more. Then, Yvonne brings out a digital music player with some music of different styles and has us practice dancing. Greg had told her that there might be dancing and she wants to make sure I know how to be led by a man and not trip. I try my hardest not to show it, but when Greg holds me, it feels really good. He is so very gentle at first, almost as if he's afraid to touch me, but as we get into it, there is also a firmness that I feel, along with a very good lead and I pick up quickly what he wants me to do. Yvonne is very happy. Finally, she takes me into the bathroom and handing me the purse I am to take, has me pull out what I need and touch up various places on my face, my lips, my cheeks, around my eyes. Which I do so. "I keep forgetting, you've had some practice at this, haven't you?" she asks nicely, "Your transformation has been so much easier because you really know some of the basics so that as you learn more, you already know what it all means." And then it's time to go. First Yvonne leaves, and Greg pays her handsomely with a huge tip, which she is more than happy to accept. Greg shakes her hand and then she comes over to me, and I know she wants a hug, and we exchange cheek kisses. "Very good, Justine, you are such a good learner. You will have no problems at all tonight. From what I've seen, you know how to be a woman more than a lot of women I've met." As she leaves, she turns and says, "And it's a good thing you have such a good looking man as your date. All the other men will be at your feet all night long. But they all will know that you came with a good looking man and will leave with the same one. They will be heartbroken they couldn't get to know you better. And remember what I said earlier. I'm still seeing it. And it is definitely adding to your attractiveness." I get a little embarrassed as she continues. "Goodbye, Justine. I would wish you luck, but you don't need it at all. You will be wonderful there tonight. I have no doubt." "Goodbye, Yvonne, and thank you so much for your help. You are simply amazing." "I know. Bye, now." And she leaves, leaving Greg and me alone. I say as I turn to Greg, "She is amazing, isn't she?" "Yes, but you are way beyond that. I'm so glad you're my cousin, or I would be all over you right now." "Really, Greg," I smile at him and it just lights up his face. I think back to what he said when he first saw me dressed. I continue, "Should we be going? A little late is quite fashionable, but too much isn't at all." "You're right. The get-together starts at 6:30 and if we leave now we should be there easily before seven. And you will get to make a grand entrance." "We both will. You are rather handsome. And if I weren't your cousin, I might be all over you, too!" I say with a giggle and smile as I bat my eyes at him, to let Greg know (well, think anyway) that I'm only teasing him, but I again notice that unusual look to him. We're in a little hurry, so I can't spend too much time thinking about it, and he then laughs a little, which I like. He then says, "Do you have everything? We gotta go." Chapter 3 - Party Time I grab my purse after making sure I have a few valid ID's in it and my apartment key, and there is a white knit like shawl or wrap that goes with the dress and Greg takes it and says, "Here let me help you." Being early September it's still warm during the day, but the evenings can get a little cool, so the wrap might be needed. He has brought in a jacket and puts it on and we look like a rather youngish yuppie/preppy couple. "Good, let's go," he says as he opens the door and tentatively at first, slips his hand to my lower back to direct me. I can sense that he is very used to ushering attractive women around, and I find it enjoyable. With each step, since I'm allowing it there, he becomes a little firmer. I carefully navigate the stairs in my heels, and we go out to his car, which is very cute Mazda Miata. He opens the door for me and helps me in a little. I feel so feminine right now, here in a great sports car, dressed almost to kill, sitting next to a handsome guy, who is also a pretty great guy. I just hope I can handle whatever comes up at this get-together. After a few moments in the car, I begin to collect my thoughts on what has happened. It's like everything has just been in a rush around me, with so little time to think about things. I can't believe how I look, how Greg has looked at me, and that I will have to spend the next four to six hours passing as a young woman in front of people who don't know me but will want to know a lot about me. Am I doing the right thing? Can I do it? Maybe I should just call this all off. Greg is expecting a lot, does he even have any idea what? But somehow I feel so right. I think back to what Yvonne talked about. Yes, I did feel good about everything as she was making me up. I knew for the first time, instead of the feeble attempts I've tried, this would be actually right. And it so is! But something happened when I decided on Justine for my name. It's like I found myself. Like this is what I was meant to be. That is so crazy. Things don't happen like that. Do they? I glance over at Greg and he notices and glances back and we smile at each other. I look down at myself. Who is this person? It's me, that's who. I am Justine right now. And hopefully, for the rest of the evening. I'll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Greg breaks up my thoughts and asks me, "I'm sorry if my original name choice offended you or anything. But I was just trying to make it easy." "Greg," I say putting my hand naturally on his arm, "Actually it is Justine Michelle Morgan. I want me to be who I am, and Justine just fits...no, Justine is who I am. But I like your suggestion of Michelle, so both really work." He thinks for a moment, "You are so right. You are Justine. And Michelle fits too. Justine Michelle. It's a very pretty name for a very attractive young woman. ." I blush a little. I am so pleased he thinks that about me. After a few more moments, I ask, "So tell me, exactly what is tonight all about?" "Well, I think I was a little lucky and got admitted to this special business program and in talking to some of the seniors and a few graduates; it seems the way to help with your career is to attend these dinners put on by various faculty members. It's all about networking. I was at my first two weeks ago, which was just for students." "Oh, I can understand that, but why do you need to bring a date?" "That's the important part. To get into the fellowships, internships, and get the good recommendations to land jobs at the really good companies, they want to see that you're a real family man. Even the younger students. Don't ask me why, but they're sort of old fogies about this, I guess. They like to see their students be well rounded." "Oh, I see, I think. I can probably handle that. Just be nice and gracious and speak highly of you." "Yeah, exactly, that would wonderful. And I know you can do that. But, Justine, there's a little more I should tell you. It's just a little more involved than that." "Oh and what's that?" We're off the main highways and Greg pulls into a parking lot for some kind of store that is still open, but he parks a little ways away. I'm not sure what he's doing, but he seems to know. "Um, close your eyes and give me your left hand." Not knowing what else to do, I say, "Ok." And give it to him. In a moment I feel him slip something on my ring finger. What's going on, I wonder. "Ok, open them." I look and see him holding my hand and on my ring finger is a fairly large solitaire diamond ring and I immediately see it sparkle in the light. I am shocked, "Greg, this is beautiful," I first say, admiring it like a girl would on her hand, looking for each sparkle, but I start thinking, 'What's this for? I can't believe it.' "You're not thinking marriage are you?" "No, um, of course not. But that's my mother's ring, and I have it since I'm the only child and she has passed away and she wanted me to have it." "Oh, I know, I was saddened by her passing, and I've always been happy we've kept up our friendship beyond that. But you haven't answered my question." "Well, everyone I talked to said that what they're really looking for, are students who have made a commitment beyond college. I've sort of fibbed a little and told them I was close to being engaged. Please don't be mad at me." I sigh, "Greg, Greg, I can't believe the lengths some people will go to. I can guess what your school wants and that we're in a tough employment market and you have to do what you can to help yourself. But this is just a little much. Won't they be upset when you don't get married?" "That's the beauty of this. I've told them we are just about engaged, but we aren't even considering marriage until I graduate and decide on post grad classes or start work. The profs I've told, are very receptive to that and really want to meet my fianc?e to see how she's - you're - taking it. If you could just do this for me tonight, I'll have the world by the tail. Because I know that several of us are up for fellowships for the rest of our schooling and it would really help my finances if I could snare one, even a partial one. And once I have it, we can break the engagement off. Please say you'll do this for me?" "It's pretty late to be telling me this, but I understand. I guess I can. And with me living aways away, it may work. It's just that you really owe me big time for all this." I sigh, wondering if this extra pressure on me may be too much. "Thank you, Justine, thank you, thank you." He starts driving again. I look at my hand. "It does look very pretty there, I'll have to admit." "Yes, it does," he pauses just a moment with a sigh, then quickly says, "You are such a doll. I could kiss you!" "Uh, better hold that thought, mister. And now, I need you really to please fill me in on some particulars, in case I'm asked anything. Like when did you propose to me?" I had better get some questions answered or we are going to look rather foolish very quickly. "Um, last Sunday. I told them we were getting very serious. And you coming in with a ring will clinch it, I'm sure." "Hmmm," I think actually this may be interesting. "Can we still be sort of cousins? I can tell them stories about you. Make it like we grew up together more or less, haven't seen each other for awhile, and got back together about a year or so ago and everything started to click, especially after you and your old girlfriend broke up and your mother's funeral. I think that will work. It is sort of close to the real world. Ok?" "Uh, yeah...yeah, you know, that's really good. No, that's great, Justine. That means I can tell them stories about you, too. I haven't told them that much." "Ok, you can say you were a little concerned about how we would be seen if they thought we were like blood cousins and all. And that I wanted us to be here when you tell them, so they will fully understand." "Wow, that's perfect. You're good! You know that?" I smile at that. Greg can be so nice and complimentary. He is really a nice guy, though as we talk some more I am still just a little exasperated with him, but I think it will work. And we can eventually announce a break up, or he can meet a new girl. I suppose. Well... I do ask him several questions about this get together tonight, "Tell me, exactly who will be there, and could you tell me something about them?" He glances at me for a moment and says, "The faculty or the students." "I would hope both, because I'm coming in there not knowing any of them, and you've implied you've told them something about me. That puts me at a little disadvantage." "Yeah, you're right. Ok, do you want me to go through who will be there?" "Why, yes, of course. Please start with your professors, and give me just a little about them. And I'm guessing if their wives or spouses will be there, anything about them. I hope I'll be able to remember." "Ok, there are six professors in the department and they are doing all the teaching. There are the two long time professors. They sort of run the department, Professor Wilton and Professor Thorn. They are both married and I met their wives at the dinner they gave the students two weeks ago. Which is where I mentioned you briefly, thankfully not by name." "That's good, at least I get a chance to tell them a little about myself." "They are decent, I guess, just a little out of touch with how life is currently. I think they are the ones that make the final decisions on who gets a grant or fellowship. The other professors, I haven't met their wives or spouses but Professor Johnston is quiet and studious. Professor Pastorek is from the Ukraine. He's a green card but is hoping to get his citizenship. Professor Jillian Goldman may be a moderate feminist, but she is married, though we wonder if it's a marriage of convenience. And Professor Freeman is the only Aftrican American, but he's not strident or anything. I did meet his wife and she might be a little bit." "Ok, that was good. Now the students." "Hmmm, I don't know much about their spouses, but here are the others - there is Robert, he's a little full of himself, thinks he knows everything and he's rich. Dean is a backslapper, full of bravado, a comedian, but ok. Annalise is friendly, a little quiet, and very studious. I think the guy she is with is a PhD candidate. Derek's a good student, quiet, real friendly. We get along really well. Pretty much friends now. Stuart's a nerd. We wonder if he will actually bring a girl. Stephanie's very aloof, but very smart. Jason is athletic, a frat jock, friendly, though. Stanley's a little nerdy, not as bad as Stuart and outgoing, Norm's the blue collar kind of guy, he's busting his butt to understand everything, I had to help him a little this past week. Lee is Chinese I think, keeps to himself, real smart and William is African-American. He just wants to graduate and will do whatever he can. He was a help to me on one paper last week. Derek, Norm, Jason and I formed a little study group, and Annalise just joined. I know Robert, Dean, and Lee and Stephanie have already started their group. I don't know about William, Stanley or Stuart. I suppose if any one of them asks, we'll let them join our group, but they're real quiet." I smile, "That's really good. Thank you! It gives me some things I can go on. Thank you, so much!" "You're welcome." "May I suggest one thing?" "Sure. What?" "Please invite William into your study group. If you two get along, and he's smart enough to help you, he belongs there." "Oh, hmmmm, yeah, we should do that." "Do it tonight, if you can." "Ok, I guess so. Why?" "I think it will help all of you." "Oh, ok." I'm happy with everything we have talked about, but I have noticed that every so often he gives me that look, especially when we make eye contact. He doesn't say anything and smiles if I glance at him. I guess he just likes how I look. That must be it. And it is lessening, I suppose. He just needed to get used to me, I guess. I let it go. We drive on to the campus and the dinner is in one of those co