My Life After A Memorable Event free porn video

My life after a memorable event. A summary of my early years from Part 1 I was a typical boy of fourteen who lived for football, cricket and field hockey, when I wasn't playing sport I was playing with my mates. After a year of visiting various medical experts, I had a hospital appointment that changed my life. The doctor described lots of things that I hardly understood, babies born with anomalies called inter-sex babies. He explained that the majority of babies are born with xx or xy chromosomes, denoting them chromosomally at least, as a boy or girl and he went on to described how some people are born with a mosaic of chromosomes such as XXY, or XYY, or XO. After a long speech reassuring me that I was facing a tough time ahead and that they were confident everything would eventually work out for the best. I apologised that I didn't really understand what he was telling me. After a moment of silence and awkwardness he eventually stunned me by telling me "medically you are really 99% female". I don't remember anything else that was said to me, mum burst into tears and both mum and dad wrapped their arms around me. I walked into the hospital a 14 year old young man; brash, athletic, confident, and living up to my parent's expectations, how was I expected to walk out of the hospital and understand I was now a girl and that everything would be alright. I was born with Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia (CAH), which in layman's terms means an overproduction of hormones in the adrenal gland causes masculinisation of the genitals in female infants. In my case I had a further abnormality, the vaginal passage was also found to be connected to my anal opening. My doctors explained that this is why my condition wasn't picked up and corrected at birth. My body looked like a baby boy. Below is an extract of the end of Part 1 which finished with me having entered my first heterosexual relationship to Keith who was going through a divorce. Corrective surgery and hormone treatment was complete years earlier and I was a single mum. After six months together, I decided that I had to tell Keith of my medical history, naturally I feared the worst that he wouldn't want to see me again and that he would tell everyone about my history and if that happened I knew that I would have to move on to another town to rebuild my life. I wasn't sure that I could explain everything to him on a face to face basis, so I arranged to bring my sister Karen to stay with me and I took the coward's way out and wrote a long letter to Keith explaining my history. Karen left my flat to deliver the letter that contained details of my medical history and the bad experiences of people's reactions to my condition and reasons why I hadn't told him earlier, I also pleaded with him not to discuss the letter with anyone. I couldn't relax and I had a premonition that there was something terribly wrong, I paced the floor for the full three hours before Karen returned. I could tell by the sombre expression on her face that it hadn't gone well, "I am sorry but he didn't turn up for the rendezvous, did he try to phone you?" "No" I replied. I hadn't anticipated this situation, I had considered that he might be angry with me, or that he might feel confused, I had secretly hoped he might get used to the idea, but I didn't think he would totally ignore me. Karen tried to put a positive spin on the situation "he probably needs more time to think", "he probably wants to sleep on it", the harder she tried to be positive the more my feelings were going deeper negative....he didn't want to see me, he couldn't face me or even face a conversation with Karen. I didn't cry in front of my daughter Jemma or Karen, it wasn't until I lay in bed that the flood gates opened, how could I possibly have thought that Keith might accept me as a male in a woman's body, at the age of 33 I had lived more years as a woman than I had a male, I was making mental progress to accept myself as I should always have been, a female, but Keith's actions were making me question all of my progress, if Keith couldn't accept me as a female I thought nobody would. I lay awake for hours. There was a loud knock on the apartment door; I am not sure what time of night it was, probably around 4 am. I leapt out of bed not knowing whether to lock the bedroom door and hide, or to answer the door. Karen had been sleeping on the sofa bed in the lounge and I could hear her talking to someone, I guessed Keith. I looked in the mirror and saw how bad I looked with wayward hair and red tear stained eyes, I did my best to make my self look presentable and put on a dressing gown to cover my old comfortable pyjamas. I couldn't hear what was being said, I could tell by the tone that it wasn't a conversation of angry words. Karen came into my bedroom "Keith's here and he would like to talk with you." "Does he seem OK? What did he say?" Karen replied "I think its better that he tells you". Karen left and Keith entered my room, he took one look at me with tears welling up blurring my vision, "come here" he said as walked toward me with his arms outstretched. "I love you; you are the woman I love and I am not sure why you might think otherwise". We kissed and embraced while I cried with happiness, after about five minutes of us not letting go of each other. Keith wiped my eyes and sat me down on the bed, he said "I've got something to tell you that you need to know, I've done something terrible and I won't blame you if you hate me for it, I am sorry so, so sorry". The reason is I didn't respond to your letter, or meet with Karen earlier was that my (estranged) wife returned home, just before I was about to read your letter, she wants to come back to me and be a family, she was very persuasive and argued that it was best for our daughter. She was upset, crying and apologetic; she pleaded with me for one more chance. And I don't know how it happened but she got me into bed and we had sex" he looked to the floor. I didn't know what to say, I was lost for words I raised my two clenched fists and hit him on the shoulders at least a couple of times, before he grabbed my wrists, his physical strength over powering me. This was my only reaction, it had been such an emotional charged day, I thought he was telling me that he was going back to his wife "go back to her" I cried. "You've misunderstood; I told my wife I didn't want her back. I love you and if you will still have me, I would like to ask, will you to marry me?" Many thanks for the wonderful comments for Part 1 of my life. PART 2 It took me days to realise that I had actually agreed to marry a man and be his wife. My stable life as a single mother and looking after my daughter had been an achievement, but I was embarking on a new life were I was expected to look after a step daughter and a husband, this scenario presented a whole new level of difficulty. My focus and objective was to finally kill off my male thoughts, they had to be quashed and totally suppressed. My initial euphoria that I wanted to be with Keith was wearing off; I was becoming scared. I told Keith everything about my past, I didn't lie about anything. He learnt about me as a happy boy, the days after I was diagnosed to really be a girl, being forced to dress as a female, and my life as a bullied school girl, my sexual confusion and my lesbian relationship and my very limited experiences with males. I explained that I was still mentally troubled with thoughts about being a male, On many occasions I tried to use Keith experiences to educate me on the workings of the male body and his sexual feelings, I explained how I would like to swap my brain into a male body for a month or so to experience life as a male. Keith got very tired of my "weird questions" he never really felt comfortable with my awkward questions and very soon Keith insisted that my fascination with the male body was a taboo subject, "Julie, its time to move on" I was disappointed by his attitude and silence, I wondered if the workings of a penis and the feelings experienced by a male were secret? "Julie, I want to be your husband and not your therapist" I reluctantly agreed to stop talking about my past, I felt a sense of loss, Keith had been the only male I have ever been able to share my weird thoughts. I was forced to accept that my insecurities and weird thoughts had to be re-locked tightly inside my brain, with no way for them to escape. When Keith and I were alone we covertly discussed the wedding and future plans, Keith wanted us to marry as soon as his divorce was finalised, we decided not to make any announcement to anyone until we knew when we could finalise a wedding date. Nine months passed, I had many doubts that getting married was the appropriate future path for me, I struggled with many thoughts, did I really love Keith or was I some how trying to prove myself against a normal woman (Keith's ex-wife), to claim her man. Was I basking in the radiance of Keith choosing me over his ex-wife, had I simply wanted to prove to myself that I could be a better and more attractive option than a regular woman, were the emotions I was experiencing really the glory of winning a competition and not love? Was my male competitiveness the reason I was striving for Keith's attentions? Had I subconsciously plotted to steal his affections from his wife? Had I put myself through a challenge to prove that I could be a heterosexual woman? Did I really love Keith? My mind was once again in turmoil; my male upbringing was in conflict with my female body. It was a cold but sunny New Years Eve, Keith and I were walking along a foot path on the hills overlooking Weymouth and Portland very close to the White Horse (a shape of an historic outline of a King George III on a horse in chalk limestone on the hill side). It was a beautiful fresh day we could see for miles, Keith stopped me and pulled me close, we kissed, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewellery box, I smiled and shook my head. "This is the official request, will you marry me" he said as he handed me the box that contained a delicate gold diamond cluster engagement ring, Keith took out the ring and offered it to my finger. I smiled and said "yes" I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him wrapping my arms around his neck. We had a long lingering kiss, he wrapped his arms around me lifted my feet off the floor and started to slowly spin me around as you would a child. We laughed in happiness, Keith lost his footing and we collapsed into a heap onto the frozen grass. We kissed and cuddled, for some unknown reasons my doubts and worries about the wedding were momentarily washed away, I felt cleansed of my fears I was on a high. I took Keith by surprise by starting to undo the zipper of his Jeans; he looked at me as though he was thinking you cannot be serious. He looked around to make sure nobody was around before he fumbled with the buttons of my coat and then my jeans. I held his warm man hood in my cold hands causing Keith to shudder, my bare bottom was nestled on the cold frosty grass when Keith launched himself inside me, the activity was frantic, we were behaving like ravenous animals in the open air and I was enjoying every ferocious penetration, it felt as though the sea gulls and sheep had stopped and were watching us, Keith collapsed in a heap having climaxed in double fast time leaving me in need of more. We laughed and hugged before the realisation struck us that someone might walk past us at any moment we hurriedly dressed. King George III on his white horse was reputedly mad, had his madness influenced us in some kind of spell that day? On New Year's Day 1993 we announced our wedding plans, we were to be married in June. My sister Karen, daughter Jemma, Terri (future step daughter)and friends were very excited at the prospect of a wedding, the female mind set and reaction toward me was similar to as if I won a competition or a prize, Keith was said to be "a great catch" "a lovely caring man" " he'll take good care of you " I couldn't believe how old fashioned women's attitudes were when a wedding and marriage were discussed, this was the 1993 yet I would have sworn that the female mind set was locked in the 1950's, it was as though I was expected to be a loving obedient wife, who would look after the "masters" off springs and care for his home. In recent years I had survived as a female by blending into the female masses, my demeanour was always strictly middle of the road. I didn't really like to stand out or be noticed. I was uneasy about being thrust into a situation where I would be the centre of attention; and now I was to be a bride. I had missed out on the female mind training where a wedding is programmed to be a fantasy and magical experience, the opportunity of being a bride meant that you were special, this was the situation that so many females dream about "a brides special day". I had a lot to learn and had a fair amount of acting to do, because my daughters expectations were so high. Keith and I spent the next months creating plans and making practical arrangements, this was a difficult period and we had many disagreements. The disagreements taught us a lesson in the art of compromise, I could feel that these differences of opinions were killing one part of my male character that I was proud of, I had a strong sense of independence and I was about to lose this. We did progress our plans, I agreed to move into Keith's house, I would sell my flat after the wedding but I refused to live with his ex wife's furniture, d?cor and linen etc, we would purchase new or use mine. We would both continue to work, me with my small painting and decorating business and Keith with his job in Sales and exports. His daughter Terri and my daughter Jemma would be bridesmaids. I won my fight to have a low key registry office wedding, instead of the total female fantasy church ceremony. Keith insisted that we continue to live apart until after the wedding in an old traditional fashion. As these wedding negotiations progressed I realised that Keith could be a pig headed and stubborn male, during our discussions I conceded more often than he did, he was gradually taking the lead role for decision making in our relationship, I was slowly slipping into a secondary role. Looking back I can see that I was being moulded into the "little woman". The potential relationship buster was when Keith told me that he wanted us to have a baby, many regular women would have melted and agreed immediately. I could only remember the mental torture I went through with my male brain fighting and coming to terms with my female body, I wasn't sure I could face the same anguish. Keith was very persuasive and adamant. I made it clear I was unsure that I wanted a baby at this stage of my life and half jokingly said that I was in charge of the birth control pills. I desperately tried to rid myself of my male confused thoughts and mind games, I wanted to accept and embrace my new role and life as a wife and free myself of my confused gender thoughts of missing out on experiencing life as an adult male. I did try to free myself, but these thoughts were always buried just below the surface of my brain. If something went wrong in my life I blamed my male side, silly things like if I bought wrong clothes for myself it was my male side to blame. If I felt low or sad male thoughts were triggered and insecurities surfaced, thoughts like "I wasn't a real woman; I was a man in a charade as a woman". I could never share these thoughts with anyone; I was destined to keep these thoughts safely locked in my brain. In times of pressure or distress my thoughts defaulted back to a male of 16, the age when my first life had stopped. My thoughts that I should have been a male some times had a positive effect on my life, my male training helped me through problematic times; perhaps it was the male logical thinking I was trying to grasp as a way of solving my problems whilst cutting off my female emotional and compassionate side. After weeks of pressure from my sister to invite my mum and relations to the wedding I again conceded, I picked up the telephone to talk to the mother that I hadn't been in contact with for 16 years. I hadn't contacted her because of the stress on our family and relationship during my transformation to a female during my teenage years. It was a very strange conversation, it was as though the last time we had spoke was only a week ago, my sister Karen had obviously kept my mum very well informed with my news, my mum eagerly accepted the wedding invitation and was very much looking forward to meeting my future husband and her granddaughter for the first time. My father, grand mother and Aunt Anne who had helped and supported me during my troubled teenage female years had unfortunately all passed away, my mum was so pleased to be invited, she would attend the wedding with her sister and my cousin Lynn. I was surrounded by female friends who were far more immersed in the fairy tale of a wedding than me; I was overwhelmed with everyone offering differing advice. I chose my sister Karen to assist me with the selection of wedding dress, lingerie and an evening outfit, I had a last minute impulse or perhaps it was a desire to invite my mum who travelled South with Karen. I paced the floor, waiting for Karen and my mum to arrive. I nervously tidied and fidgeted with furniture in my flat, the flat had been extensively cleaned top to bottom it was as though my mother was about to judge the cleanliness of the flat as a measure of my success as my life as a female. When I had last seen my mum I was living at home after my corrective surgery, basically I was a foul mouthed and an obnoxious school boy in a girl's body, In the years that followed I had purposely cut my parents out of my life. I opened the door expecting to see the strong supportive mother I had left 16 years earlier. I found a grey haired frail looking shadow of the person I had known. I now realise that my inter-sex diagnosis had not only transformed my life, it had destroyed my mum's marriage, broke up her family and the results of the stress was evident in her appearance. Mum and I looked at each for a moment, neither of us speaking, neither of us knowing what to say. For a moment it felt like the distance between us couldn't be measured by years, but by universes. The protracted silence was a result of two women studying each other, a mother and daughter other who scarcely knew or understood each other. My mum had tears rolling down her cheeks and the awkward silence was broken we hugged, Karen and I burst into tears, mum gave a present of a large stuffed bear to Jemma, mum acted as though she was a regular visitor and she talked and talked seemingly without breaking for air, the subject wasn't important she just wanted to talk, it was as though it was some sort of defence mechanism. In the days that followed we politely talked a lot about my journey in life, my mums sorrow about the breakdown in our relationship and our future, I was very pleased that we had re-united and I was sorrowful that it hadn't overcome my bitterness years earlier. I had been inundated with wedding dress advice and photos from magazines from friends and family, I was under pressure from my daughters to go for the full train and veil look. The dress shopping expedition day arrived, I had my mum, sister and daughters as advisors. Although I wasn't locked into the fairy tale mentality I was now tuned into realising that today was to be a special day for me, I realised that I had to convince the sisterhood that I could meet their high expectations I had to develop into a beautiful bride as I possibly could. The daunting realisation that on the wedding day the main focus of attention would be on me; this was to be serious challenge for me. During the course of the day I tried many gorgeous dresses of all designs, shapes and sizes, they all had figure hugging bodices with and without sleeves and straps. Long trains, short trains and long length dresses. The finery, delicate feel and fragile rustling sounds is my lasting memory, I must confess that I did become very girly and I felt like twirling around in every dress. I am not sure whether it was my sensible male brain, but I selected a safe dress design that was practical and without a train, the skirt was below knee length, it was a cream coloured silk with a fine lace over skirt that was gathered tight at the waist and tight silk bodice with a modest low cut neck line with short sleeves. I felt so comfortable even though I had been squeezed into the bodice; the shape was so sensually female with a style that accentuated my hips and bust. My shopping didn't stop, Karen and my mum helped to select my pure silk bra and knickers with see through fine lace panels with floral edging. I selected matching cream coloured silk covered shoes with a 3 inch heel, my stockings were also cream in colour (a 1990's fashion), and the outfit was finished with a head band that had a simple circular cream bead and small flower shape. The two bridesmaids selected burgundy coloured dresses and they looked gorgeous. The day was approaching fast and I continued to have my doubts that a marriage was right for me, I confided in Karen and a close friend Sally they both said it was natural and Sally had experienced the same feelings. I felt as though I was being carried along in a wedding planning machine that could not be paused or stopped. I stood in front of the Registrar... I hesitated...and looked around the room, all of the men were looking uncomfortable in suits and ties, the woman looked starry and dewy eyed in their new outfits....Keith smiled...."I do" I heard myself say, the rest of the words were a blur....."I now pronounce you man and wife" Because my dad was dead, mum had readily accepted the job to give me away and Karen was my matron of honour, they both had a fantastic time. All of the hard work had been worthwhile, everyone had a wonderful day, including me, everyone said how beautiful I looked and I felt very special with so much attention showered upon me, the only slight black mark was our eight year old daughters had been secretly drinking champagne. The resulting mess was predictable thank fully my mum adopted the role of a nurse and took care of them, putting them to bed early. It was very strange meeting to my cousin Lynn, we had grown up together she was one year younger than me. We were quite close friends when I was a boy and we played together during family visits and functions. Lynn went to the same school as me but had distanced herself from me when I attended school as a girl, at the time I hated her for abandoning our friendship, with the passage of time I had mellowed and now understood why it was easier for Lynn to ignore me than help me. After the wedding celebrations my cousin Lynn and I had a long conversation, Lynn carefully talked in a cryptic language so no one could possibly understand my history; she poured her heart out to me and she explained how she had lived the last 16 years with a feeling of guilt of her lack of support toward me whilst at school, it was my wedding day and of course I accepted her apologies. I emerged from the bathroom dressed in a matching lilac French knickers and camisole Keith pulled back the sheets to find some jokers had filled our bed full of confetti, it didn't matter Keith held out his arms and hugged me taking in a deep breath of the perfume that I had freshly applied to all of the important areas. Keith caressed me and lowered me to the bed he expertly and gently massaged my breasts through my camisole teasingly lowering my straps in slow motion before he kissed my nipples sending quivers down my spine, he eagerly took each nipple in turn into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and sucking and licking avidly, the stress of the day melted from my body and I was so pleased that I was still wearing my knickers because I am sure my lubricated vagina would have flooded the bed. I was moaning and groaning, I tried to move positions so I could return the pleasure to him, but he blocked my movement, he pushed me back to a flat position as he continued to move south down my body. He stroked his hand between my legs I had the warm feeling in my groin and sensed my vagina oozing, he eased off my knickers and gently ran his finger tips over the hair covering my vaginal mound, and tenderly brushed the tip of one finger along my vaginal flaps, this made me recoil His tongue started to soothingly lick my flaps in long sweeping motions while his fingers kept them parted, my body was following the rhythm of the licking motion. I felt his tongue move to circle my clitoris, round and round the edges his tongue softly probed, he hit the spot and I moaned, the end of his tongue of was moving faster and faster I was getting hotter and hotter I writhed and climaxed, giggling I wrestled to free myself from his tongue, it was a minute or two before I recovered. I don't really enjoy giving him oral sex, on occasions I will after Keith has been showered and I know it is clean, today was an exception to this rule, I slid down the bed an held Keith in my hands, squirted my moisturiser into my hand. My hand slowly glided up and down his shaft and I rolled my hand over the penis head. I positioned myself so Keith could see my performance, I gently kissed his head and licked the edge of his withdrawn foreskin, it was my turn to tease and frustrate him. My licking motion was slower and more theatrical, brushing back my hair so it didn't interfere with his view. With open mouth and a teasing tongue I enveloped his penis, slowly sucking his member into my mouth the skin felt soft and warm and almost fluid. The skin was moving in tune to my in and out motion. I could feel Keith raising his hips as he started to fuck my mouth, he gently rested his hand on my head and the pressure of his penis pushed against the rear of my mouth, Keith normally withdraws and finishes off inside me because I don't like cum. Once again tonight was an exception, Keith didn't warn me or with draw from my mouth, he let fly taking me completely unaware taking my breath away and gagging, I withdrew smiling with my mouth full of his cum. I switched off the table lamp before subtly emptying my mouth into my discarded knickers...Yuk, a memorable wedding night. After an exhausting day we both drifted off to sleep, in the morning I woke first. I am still fascinated on the working of a penis, my male brain longs to have the experience of how it feels to have an erection and ejaculate. I love to hold a penis in its deflated state and study it while it transforms from a soft squashy skin to a firm expanded member, its not unusual for me to grab Keith's penis just so I can observe and explore the development into a full blown erection to satisfy my curiosity. I held his penis and guided him to my entrance; I arched my hips to meet the initial thrust and braced my self, the feeling never fails to take my breath away. It feels as though a balloon is being inflated inside me, pushing the muscles and membranes apart. His motion was a slow and probing with his hips moving in a slow circular penetrating motion. My experience is that in a morning he always feels harder, I am not surer whether this because foreplay is always minimal and my inside isn't as fluid or whether the penis is stronger because it grows from zero to erect in short time. When Keith is on a back stroke, I arch my back and my buttocks in rhythm to his stroke leaving me ready to receive the next thrust, causing me to tingle and groan with pleasure, I was awash in a feeling of serenity and our marriage was consummated, I was officially a wife (with a male brain). The next few years we worked hard at creating our new family, our two daughters were the same age and were best of friends, fortunately they started to develop into caring sisters. Keith and I had our problems and we both had problems with our respective step daughters but we maintained our unity to resolve the issues. Before our wedding Keith had successfully cared for his daughter and looked after his home, which included the everyday activity of shopping, cooking cleaning etc. Once we were married these responsibilities were mine alone with only minimal assistance from the man of the house, I had listened to many of my female friends complaining about their spouses I hadn't really expected that Keith would drop all of his house husband experience, and leave me to run after him. I found it particularly difficult to adopt the role of a dutiful wife. Initially Keith had taken control of our finances, taking care of our savings and paying bills etc. It was probably 6 months after our wedding when we had our first major bust up, I noticed red coloured bills arriving in the post Keith explained that he always waited for a red reminder before paying any bill. That was until the electricity was cut off. Whilst Keith was at work I raided his hidden "Money/bills" files. It didn't take me very long to realise that we were seriously in debt and had no savings. In the argument that raged Keith admitted that his wife had previously taken control of the finances after all she was a trained accountant. We hadn't taken a honeymoon because the expense, instead Keith had continued to wine and dine me, we had taken frequent family weekend holiday breaks and trips to the cinema were the norm, the expense of the wedding had pushed us out of control. I had learned to live on frugal means during my days as a single parent so I insisted on taking control of the finances and I restricted or out goings to a level within our means. How could he have been so stupid, it took us weeks for our relationship to be restored and even longer for us to recover a healthy bank balance. There was no doubt that Keith was the strongest influence in our partnership, I initially tried to stand my ground and be defensive of my independence, but it wasn't very long before a losing trend started to appear, generally I was the first to concede and let Keith's decision take affect. My early lesbian relationship with a control freak had perhaps trained me to accept the easy least troublesome option or perhaps I was born weak willed. Perhaps it was the mental conflict my male and female thoughts that made it easier for Keith to win an argument. It has always been second nature for me focus at the negatives in life, perhaps it is my feeling of being different that makes me believe that in some way I am a second class citizen, this feeling was amplified in my marriage and was the most negative part of our relationship, thankfully there were far more positives. Instead of caring and doting over my daughter I now had two daughters to enjoy being with. Keith was a great father, and this was great new experience for my daughter Jemma. I do love Keith, and for the first time in my adult life I had a real sole mate, an adult to share my life with. He continued to make me laugh, he is caring, and he has strengths were I have a weakness he considers the future, he is less trusting than me (I can be gullible). On reflection I have far more happier times than I am sad. "Julie, by the time you make up your mind to have our baby your body won't be young enough" and "If we don't have a child you will regret the decision for the rest of your life". Keith was subtly bullying and pressuring me. After a lot of soul searching I stopped taking the birth control pill I was 36 years old and Keith was 39, I decided that nature could take its course, and perhaps it wouldn't happen. Our sex life was refreshed, Keith couldn't seem to think of me without some his seeds inside of me. I knew from the first time that I fell pregnant that my fertility levels were high because of all of the hormone treatment I had in my early years. So it was a little surprising to me that my period continued as regular as clock work after 6 months I was mentally tuned in wanting my period to stop, it was becoming frustrating to us both. Although my intersex past was never ever discussed, Keith had only ever thought of me as woman. I couldn't help but feel Keith thought my intersex past was the reason I wasn't pregnant, he clearly thought I should have some specialist tests in case something was wrong with me, the results from the Doctor showed that my fertility levels were slightly higher for a woman of my age, the doctor advised that at 36 years old falling pregnant could take a long time or it might not happen, he confirmed what I already knew that physically I was a healthy woman. My Doctors advice was that Keith should also undergo tests; the results found that he had a low sperm count. He was devastated; he considered that his masculinity was in question. Unfortunately, he blamed me for not starting "the baby making" years earlier. I tried to reassure him that it was alright and that it didn't matter, the truth of the matter was that I had changed my outlook towards a baby, month after month I was searching my bodily feelings to try and detect a change or a sign that I might be pregnant, I was disappointed and sad with the start of every period. I was mentally hooked on having a baby; the thoughts of becoming pregnant dominated my thoughts, everywhere I looked I saw babies and small children, I was feeling so maternal, I was now desperate to have a baby. Under the circumstances I couldn't tell Keith of my real feelings so I behaved as though having a baby wasn't important. Keith became distant and depressed, I became the solid and dependable person in our relationship encouraging him that we could get through this and there were medical options available. Keith wasn't coping very well, he doubted his manliness. I did my very best to reassure, nurse and cajole him. I continued to closely monitor my fertility cycle, Keith had lost his sex drive, so I faced a challenge to get him to perform during the peak and critical days of my cycle, my own drive to become pregnant pushed my feminine sexuality to make Keith make love to me. The consequences of making love whilst Keith was depressed was difficult, it felt as though Keith had changed from a sensitive loving man who was masterful and sensual to a man who was punishing me by rough and physical intercourse, pounding me like a caveman seemed to his way to prove that he was male and macho, leaving me bruised and feeling a little dirty . I had to endure this strange macho display to satisfy my own baby making agenda. My pee trickled onto a white pregnancy tester, was I imagining it or did I feel different, my period was late, I already felt that I knew what the results would be, I had felt unusual for the last week even with my premonition I still couldn't believe my eyes two blue stripes and a quick second read of the instructions, it was true, it was positive, I was going to have a baby, I was going to have a baby!! Keith was elated, the surprise pregnancy was a welcome remedy to his deflated male ego, over the days that followed his confidence and personality returned to normal, we had just passed the 12 weeks stage when the risk of a miscarriage is reduced, thankfully my morning sickness had also subsided and we announced my pregnancy and absolutely everyone was thrilled. Unfortunately Keith's lack of things to worry about was short lived. Keith returned home looking ashen faced, I thought someone had died, he explained that he could soon be out of a job, the Weymouth office of his company was to close in the future. The company serviced the Oil and marine industries and they had offered him a job in Dubai, Aberdeen (Scotland) or Devon. My maternal hormones had already activated, I was in a nest building phase in preparation of the new arrival, the thoughts of the possibility of having to relocate the family away from my network of friends and closing my small decorating business was devastating news. Keith was concerned about how the stress of his job loss was affecting my health and baby, he was worried that if we didn't move we might not be able to financially support the family with his loss of income and because I was going to have to stop working. We had few choices and we jointly agreed that Keith should accept the position based in Dubai, his company agreed that he could work a rotation system spending 6 weeks in Dubai and return home for 2 weeks at a time. This would allow me and our daughters to remain at home in Weymouth. I missed him terribly; our daughters coped better than I did. The workload of running the family increased when I least needed it, my large circumference and carrying the extra weight made everything difficult and made me tired all of the time. During pregnancy woman can experience an increased sex drive, I was one of those woman I was yearning for Keith to return home on his leave. Keith returned home (thankfully the girls were at school) I had prepared my self to try and look as sexy as I could in my condition, I was worried that he might not be attracted to a woman shaped like a mini- elephant. I felt truly silly waiting for him in sexy black laced bra and knickers, my belly stretched the knickers so much that they almost cut me in two. My boobs had increased in size and were feeling tender, a short black silk robe and black heels completed the outfit. He was late, the longer I waited the more I was loosing my nerve and considered changing into my normal clothes. The taxi pulled up outside, the door opened, an unshaven Keith looked shocked at my attire, feeling embarrassed I hesitantly smiled, "Welcome home..... It's for you" I said as I loosened the robe with my arms held wide exposing my fat belly and sexy underwear. Keith closed his dropped jaw and kissed and cuddle me, it was a long lingering kiss. I felt a wave of relief that he was still attracted to me Keith took a step back undid his belt dropped his trousers and underwear to reveal his erect member "It's for you" he said. Laughing I hurriedly removed my knickers, took hold of his member and tried to position myself over it, it was Keith's turn to laugh I had tried to have sex standing but he couldn't get close enough because of my belly. "You seem in a hurry" he said as he lay me on the lounge floor "have you missed me?" before I could answer he was inside me, I was so liquid he slipped into me at full length on the first stroke. I was already close to an orgasm and I was soon twitching and shuddering, Keith ejaculated soon after, it was all over very quickly. My needs were satisfied twice more before the girls returned home from school. At last I was feeling needed and loved again, I followed Keith around like I did during our courting phase, sex was frequent and reenergised, and we had rediscovered each other. Perhaps Keith being away for six weeks at a time had its benefits. My mum visited and stayed with us when Keith was away at work, mum seemed to be making up for our missing years apart. Mum's help was greatly appreciated, she was caring and helping me through the pregnancy like any mother would for her daughter. Our relationship had been quickly rebuilt to a good mother and daughter relationship that we both enjoyed very much. My daughters were asleep and I was heading for an early night, I felt constantly tired. "Stay with me a little while longer, I need to talk" mum said. She explained that when I was a baby boy at the age of 18 months she had taken me to the local doctor, she explained that she was concerned about my penis and balls, she wasn't sure whether they were normal or not, she didn't have a vast experience of infant boy's testis. The doctor had reassured my mum not to be silly, "all boys were different shapes and sizes", and he explained "children develop at different stages". My mum had continued to wash and bath me until I was 7 or 8 years old, my mum had always thought that there was a problem with my penis, deep down she worried that I might not be able to fertilise a woman with my small penis. She had considered that there was nothing that doctors could do to increase the size. She told me that she was always worried that my small penis may lead to difficulties later in my life. My mum was fighting back tears during all of this dialogue; she would never forgive herself that she had not taken more medical advice earlier in my life. "I am sorry, please forgive me" seemed to follow her every sentence. I had many unanswered questions for my first 14 male years "Had she ever thought I had any feminine tendencies?" She replied "I have thought about this a lot, should I have known you were really a girl, had I missed any signs? "The simple answer is no" "Your dad and I were happy to have a boy, you were a daddies boy, you loved football and sport and other normal boy activities" This conversation was unearthing issues and subjects that we had buried for 20 years, we had both had many hidden demons, this conversation was an opportunity for us both to free our demons. "Mum it's important for me to know; when you think of me do you think of me as a male or female"? "Julie, that's difficult, you will find out that a mother often thinks back of her children when they are growing up, I remember all of the normal Christmases, birthdays, holidays, first days at school and many, many other occasions. I'll be honest, you were my first born, my baby boy." I try to think of being lucky that I now have two wonderful daughters................I have lost my baby boy, the pain of what you went through is unbearable" more tears flooded down her face. I asked all sorts of questions. We relived the moment that she found my diagnosis of CAH and that I had actually been born female, I only ever considered my own pain and circumstances. I hadn't thought of the pain it caused my parents, I didn't realise that my dad had been forced to receive psychiatric treatment and had been prescribed tranquilisers, he couldn't accept my change of sex, because I had been his boy. When I was 15 years old during a family holiday I had been forced to dress as a female for the first time, I was so involved in my own nightmare I hadn't realised that dad had really suffered mentally during this holiday, apparently he had sort solace in alcohol and got drunk each night of the holiday. I asked mum what they first thought when they saw me as a girl, mum said that she had felt a sense of relief (because I had rebelled against wearing the clothes) she said that she knew instantly that they had made the right choices, she could see me for what I really was a girl .....her new and beautiful (but foul mouthed daughter). She admitted that her main concern was that I would be mentally strong enough to cope with the change, dad was falling apart, and mum had to concentrate her efforts in helping me through this trauma. Mum had imagined that she would play a leading role into my transformation to a female; she had imagined a loving mum and daughter relationship. I had hurt my parents deeply by rejecting their assistance and unleashing my feelings of hate toward them. The new morning light appeared through the curtains dawn was approaching, the sun was rising. We hugged and cried. My waters broke and baby Tom was born within an hour, my experiences of child birth are described in part 1 so I won't repeat the amazing but painful experience, often second births are easier, I won't go into gory details but the babies head was facing down and needed to be turned with forceps and additional cutting it wasn't a pleasant time. Thankfully my mum stayed and supported me through the delivery whilst Keith was working away, my sister Karen had intended to be with me but she was 5 months pregnant with her first child. When daughter Jemma was born she was a wonderful baby who slept ate and gurgled. Tom was a totally different story, he was a very demanding baby, he slept badly, through back his milk constantly, meaning I had to breast feed him again and when he wasn't eating, or throwing up he seemed to be crying, for the first 9 months I didn't have a single nights continuous sleep, I had chose to breast feed so nobody was able to help. Tom was an unhappy baby, after 9 months I was exhausted and depressed I was failing as a mother. My doctor suggested that Tom might be allergic to food that I was digesting, and Tom was drinking from my milk, he gave me a leaflet that explained things I could try. I removed the high risk foods from my diet amazingly it worked Tom was allergic to the cows milk and wheat (bread) that I was digesting. I returned to the doctors, I had to make sure I that Tom wasn't an intersex baby, his penis looked normal to me, but I had to be sure. Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia (CAH) wasn't a hereditary condition, I knew I was being stupid and over protective but I needed a higher level of surety to satisfy my ingrained worries. The Doctor thought I was being stupid, he didn't say as much. I argued that mistakes could be made I had lived 14 years as a boy without being detected that I was actually a female. My doctor had my medical history and finally conceded and agreed to humour me, he referred me to an endocrinologist who confirmed that there was no doubt Tom was a normal healthy boy Post pregnancy my weight didn't return to my normal dress size of 12 (USA size 10), I was a ballooned size 16/18. I was constantly tired and dressed in anything that was baggy and comfortable. Keith's home visits turned into a time of relief for me, I was able to rest, catch up on sleep and recharge my batteries ready for the next 6 weeks of him working overseas. It's true that life had turned into a mundane routine of looking after 2 year old Tom and two 13 year old girls. I had struggled to succeed in bringing up the family. The girls were changing and entering woman hood it felt strange shopping for their first bras, and explaining female hygiene, it was strange because I was passing on lessons I learnt as a boy of 14 from a series of specialists. The girls had already developed an interest in boys; it is true that to a certain extent I was living the early female childhood years that I had missed through the experiences of my growing daughters. I still felt like their best friends. Keith was missing their formative years it felt that we were a family of 4 instead of 5 people. I was checking Keith's jeans pocket before I loaded the washing machine, I found a photo of a pretty woman she looked to be in her early 30's. I asked Keith who the woman was and why did he have the photo? He hesitantly explained that it was a woman from a new office that his company was opening in a former Russian country called Azerbaijan, the photo was to be used in some publicity literature. I nodded and accepted his explanation. I didn't believe him, this photograph was a girl wearing a dress you would wear on an evening out not office wear. My brain went into overdrive, why was he lying, what was he up to? Since the birth of Tom our love life hadn't been much to speak of, I was generally asleep first leaving Keith downstairs and I was always the first up in the morning to care for Tom who was an early riser. Over the next 6 weeks of Keith's trip away, my insecurities intensified, I still looked like a fat frump, I was on the verge of my 40th birthday and I felt totally unattractive. When he returned home I looked for any signs of Keith having been with another woman, Julie "Sherlock Holmes" found a long black hair and a faint perfume smell on the same jumper. I was piecing together lots of small portions of information, such as Keith buying new shirts, trousers and underwear a couple of months ago, he had previously let me do all of his shopping. He had started to use mouth wash around the same time. The night before Keith left home for his next trip, I searched through his suitcase that he always packed himself, I found the last piece of evidence I needed......24 condoms. It was only six years ago that I had struggled to accept a man in my life, it was a major milestone when I accepted that I could be a woman and live in a heterosexual relationship, I had enjoyed the pleasures of discovering my body and feelings, of being with a demanding man. It had been new and exciting and a real thrill during the courtship, wedding and baby making. The reality was that ultimately I had failed, a relationship wasn't a sprint race. I had tired and lost concentration. I was realising our relationship is a marathon I needed stamina, enthusiasm and concentration to make it work. I had failed, how could I have thought that my male brain could carry me through the rigours of being a wife, how could I have had the mental audacity to believe a sexually confused intersex male brain in a female body could really graduate to be a good wife, why hadn't I realised that I was destined to fail? All I had to do was look in mirror, crow feet around my eyes, hair tied back to hide the fact I hadn't had it cut for neraly two years, my hair colour had washed out and grey hairs were appearing. My fat and shapeless body was totally unappealing. I was devastated, I didn't know what to do, and I had 6 weeks to decide. I swung through a whole spectrum of emotions from a feeling of "I don't need a man to make me feel worthwhile" and I was tempted to run away and hide but I couldn't do that to the kids I loved. Emotions swung to "I love him, baby Tom needs a father" I blamed myself, my looks and behaviour wasn't that of a loving wife, I conclude that I was a good mother but not a good wife. My mum was a frequent visitor to help me with the family, I had started drinking wine on an evening, it wasn't long before my mum detected that my excess drinking was caused by something I was unhappy about. I blurted out my marriage problems to my mum, tears, anger, confusion and the underlying feeling of disgust and devastation that he was cheating on me, if I couldn't trust him we had no future. Then my feelings would bounce back to "I loved him, he was the only man for me he was a caring family man, I missed him". "Look at me" I said "I am a housewife slob," no wonder Keith has someone else. My mum listened and listened as my confused emotions rebounded around the room. Near the end of my ranting, she said "Julie, you didn't choose to become a female but you did choose to become a wife, you struggled mentally to accept that you could be a heterosexual woman, do you remember how competitive you were as a boy, you were a real bad loser, I think you should go to him and fight for him" " I don't think you should blame this breakdown to your intersex history, this situation happens to lots of people, your feelings are identical to any newly wed couple, everybody enjoys the exciting courtship phase. You both have to work at a marriage, the problem is one or both of you have stopped working at building your relationship. You chose to be his wife, go to him see if you can work it out, you still love him, and you cannot find an answer to your true feelings festering here, please go to him". Mum looked after the family, I darted around for a few days arranging my passport, (thankfully mum and dad had changed my birth certificate to female). I was on my way to a city called Baku, the capital city in Azerbaijan, I had found from Keith's office that he was staying at the Hyatt hotel, I didn't know what to expect or what I would find. I landed at this strange airport close to midnight. This was a very stressful time, it was the first time I had left my children and it was my first flight in an airplane and my first venture overseas. I thought people travelling on a flight would be dressed smart and business like, I had bought a smart skirt and jacket in an attempt to blend in, in fact I felt totally out of place, the flight was full of very casual and slightly scruffy men with only 3 women passengers onboard, the guy sitting next to me explained that the majority of the passengers were oilmen. I couldn't eat the meal I was so nervous about meeting Keith and my stomach felt as though it was in knots. I was petrified at the thought of what I was entering into. I was led away from the passport office, the Azerbaijan officials wouldn't allow me entry, I didn't know what was happening nobody could speak English. Eventually I faced a uniformed man who was seated behind a glass panel; fortunately he could speak good English. He explained that I needed an entry visa, one hour, two photographs and $50 dollars later I had bought a visa and I was in a taxi heading along bumpy roads towards the city. I was petrified, would Keith be alone and asleep, would he be pleased or angry to see me. I was shaking the 30 minute journey seemed to last for hours. I had dressed in a new smart blue two piece suit, the skirt length was above my knee and cream silk blouse, and 2 inch heels, my sexy under wear was black and lacy. I was carrying a bottle of champagne I really hoped that Keith would be pleased to see me and we could share this bottle in a celebration. The Hyatt hotel was a modern building. The man at reception phoned Keith's room, no answer, I was refused entry to Keith's room and had to wait in reception or book my own room, my mind was racing I feared the worst, I guessed that he was staying somewhere else. I didn't know what to do? I paced the floor of the reception, should I return home on the flight in the morning, he wouldn't have to know I visited. Or should I camp outside of his room and wait until he returned. My anxiety was at an all time high, I rushed to the toilet to throw up, I felt weak and sick, after a short time I returned to the reception area and slumped into a chair. It was almost 2 a.m. local time and Keith came through the revolving glass door with a 20+ year old mini-skirted female, it was the girl in the photo. Keith didn't seem to notice me at first; the girl was grumbling at him, something about her wanting to dance. I stood up and stopped him rigid in his tracks, the colour appeared to drain from his face as I locked eyes with him, the girl was still chattering to him, she fell silent realising that there was something wrong. "What....why?" Keith stammered. I cried not knowing what to say. Sobbing I said "Are you going to introduce your friend?" "Samira meet my wife" The girl moved close to Keith and wrapped her arms around one of Keith's arms, an action that was sign to me that was staking claim to him. Keith put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a handful of money "Go home he said" the girl started to argue "Go!" he shouted. I had never seen him so angry, the girl disappeared. He moved toward me "I am so sorry, so.. so sorry" , I lashed out at him with the champagne bottle, it didn't connect with him, instead it slipped from my fingers and smashed against the marble floor. Still crying I tried to hit him but Keith grabbed my wrists, "How could you?" I cried, I tried to release myself "let me go." Keith just held me and wouldn't release me. Like a wild animal I spat at his face "I am sorry", I said once I saw my phlegm hit his cheek. I wiped the phlegm from Keith's face. It's alright" he said in a calming voice. The only other time in my life that I have reacted violently was when I was a 15 year old boy and my parents replaced my wardrobe with girls clothes resulting in me having to wear girls clothes for the first time, my mind went rushing back, I was trying to hurt Keith and my dead father at the same time. I felt dizzy and fell to the floor, I am not sure whether I blacked out or whether it was my mind taking a few minutes to regain my thoughts. "Are you alright?" "Relax for a few minutes stay on the floor; you've had a shock" I scrambled to my feet, Keith continued "we need to talk, come with me" The hotels staff had kept their distance and were peeping around the corner. We went to his room. When I confronted him he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. He felt the love had left our marriage, he had been feeling increased depressed and worthless. The atmosphere was strange and surreal the atmosphere was emotionally charged yet the conversations were calm and I was doing most of the listening, and I occasionally interrupted Keith with caustic comments against the girl "Samira". I felt I was being blamed for the breakdown in the relationship; I was to blame for putting our baby and daughters first; I was to blame for not looking like a cover girl in the months that followed the birth, I was to blame for feeling exhausted and sleepy when he returned home when I should have been the fashion model and entertaining wife who supplied sex on demand. My self esteem hit rock bottom, I had to escape from him I needed time alone, time to think by myself. I asked him to book me a separate room in the hotel, he started to object...."Please" I said holding up my hand in a stop signal. I left him in his room, I locked myself in my room. Keith telephoned and knocked at the door numerous times during the morning, afternoon and early evening. The only words I said were "Go away". During the endless hours of staring at my hotel room wall, I had registered the situation in a distant corner of my mind, I had withdrawn into a state of complete numbness, but I didn't feel bitter or shocked, I knew I should feel hurt. Some how this felt like a different life, nothing to do with reality it was as though I was in a dream. The pillow was soaked with tears and mascara stains, but my crying was for the kids and not for my own self pity. What should I do? No matter which way I tried to debate the options, it was impossible to make any decisions, my mind was like a pendulum swinging between the only two solutions, should I leave him or try to work out our issues and problems. It was after 9.00pm, I decided I needed fresh air and a walk, I cleaned myself up and pasted myself with makeup in an attempt to disguise my puffy eyes. It was dark when I left the hotel, I had no idea where I was going but I walked along the side of a 4 lane main road that was lined with shops and bleak looking Russian built accommodation blocks; the roads were full of Russian built cars that all looked the same. I noticed that people were watching me but I thought little of it, my mind was overflowing with my marriage problems. It was nice to be outside and in the fresh air. I had walked for about 30 minutes, and ended up at a cemetery (I later found out the cemetery was for 100+ civilians that were killed in 1992 when the Russians had pulled out leaving Azerbaijan to become an independent state), a man approached me speaking Russian, and I tried to explain I was English. I shrugged my shoulder and turned to return to the hotel, he walked by my side practising the hand full of English words he knew "American" " Good" "Hyatt" "Inglis" "My friend", I was feeling very vulnerable and silly for leaving the hotel in a strange country. He used two fingers to form a circle, and his index finger on his other hand was moving in and out of the circle. He was asking to fuck me in sign language. I started to run along the main street, which wasn't very successful in my tight fitting skirt and heels, did I dare flag a taxi. Fortunately the man didn't chase after me, I was attracting attention because I was running. I now started to realise that there were no women on the streets, only small groups of men; nearly all dressed in dark colours. I was walking fast in the direction of the hotel, when a car pulled up alongside me, it was a man alone in the car he was beeping his horn and waving me toward his car, he stopped in front of me opening the passenger door and was patting the seat gesturing me to sit in the car, I didn't speak, I didn't want him to realise that I couldn't understand his Russian chat up conversation. I started to run again, once again it was a relief that he didn't follow. But on the way back to the hotel I was the main attention of all of the men on the streets, because I didn't understand Russian I cannot be sure but I think some of the comments I heard were aimed at me. Back into the safety of the hotel, I was scared, and went to Keith's room crying I explained what had happened. Keith explained that the local women were expected to be accompanied or chaperoned when outside after 8.00pm, I had probably been mistaken for a prostitute! Keith tried to comfort me, I refused, I didn't want him to touch me. Keith explained that he wanted me to forgive him; he pleaded for us to wipe the slate clean and work on a new start together. I told him I needed time to think and that I wanted to return home, our children needed me. I returned home to England, and my frail looking mum proved that she could really be a tower of strength for me. She listened and only offered advice when I pushed her, she admitted that my father had a short affair and they had worked out the problems. In the days that followed I realised that I love him very much, I told him that I wanted him return home, Keith argued that he couldn't do that because of our financial situation. He promised to look for a UK based job but I had to realise that it would take time. I told him to stop playing around or I would leave him. After I given him the return home ultimatum I sensed that he was becoming increasingly distant. I was afraid that I could not influence him anymore. I was prepared to try and work out our problems, but deep in my heart I feared really that our marriage was almost over. I used my female friends as counsellors and advisors, my friend Wendy was going through a divorce, I met up with her as I need to talk with someone who had similar troubled relationship experiences and who could offer advice. We met up in a pub in Weymouth that was frequented mainly by younger single people. We passed the night complaining and criticising our husbands for the hurt they had caused; we ended the alcohol fuelled night in the company of two Romeos. Wendy had already explained that her favourite therapy was picking up men and shagging them, she felt it was great for her self esteem that men were still attracted to her, and she felt wanted. I left Wendy and returned home alone. The thoughts of going with another man, started to creep into my head, it would be a fitting revenge on Keith, and it would be a challenge. Could I still attract someone, in my overweight dowdy condition? These thoughts became an itch that I had to scratch. The thoughts of revenge against Keith were addictive and I felt I needed a new man to neutralise my feelings of helplessness and pain - I was becoming oblivious to the further risk of upheaval I could unleash on Keith and our children. My feelings of being unattractive was one of the main motivational forces combined with the thought of challenge to pull a man formed a deadly mental cocktail, I convinced myself that I craved intimacy and closeness, I wanted to feel sensual again. My telephone conversations with Keith were difficult, and I could feel us drifting apart, my emotions changed daily, one day I would be angry, the next day I would be cool, calm and logical and other days tearful and pathetic. I had lost total confidence in Keith, in my mind everything he said was a lie or the twisted truth. He made excuses why his work load meant that he couldn't return home after his 6 week trip......more lies. He promised that he had finished with Samira ....I didn't believe him. My thoughts soon turned to my personal secret and my self destructive crusade to find a man, I started by looking at what sexy lingerie and outfits I would buy if I were to have an affair. Looking and imagining soon turned into reality when I started to buy sexy lingerie and fashionable clothes that women 10-15 years younger than me were wearing, my secret wardrobe was hidden in an old suitcase. I was almost addicted to the thrill of my secret. Mentally I was buying new lingerie to meet a new man, I was plannin