My Wonderful Obsession 18 free porn video

My Wonderful Obsession Part 18: Make-Believe It was now mid-August, and Julia's Mom, event planner extraordinaire that she always was, had once again invited her catering staff to the Taylor house for a pool party in honor of her daughter's upcoming seventeenth birthday. I debated about it with myself for a few days before RSVP'ing that I would attend. Boyfriends were also invited, so my biggest decision had been whether I should bring Mark. Kath had already told me she'd be away that weekend, so Mark would be my only close friend! Even though I was understandably nervous about inviting him to Julia's place, I knew that her boyfriend would be there too and at least this way I hopefully wouldn't feel such a sense of loss like the other times I'd seen her with her new guy. But I probably didn't need to worry, because I was still feeling giddy after Mark expressed his true feelings for me only a couple of weeks earlier. Since then we'd spent as much time as possible together, going out for walks in the evening after he finished work, doing more dinner dates (though none quite like the first), seeing a couple more movies, and even hanging out at his house one afternoon visiting with his Mom, sipping lemonade, and playing dolls with his little sister. I'd really surprised myself when Mark told me he was falling in love with me and I started bawling my eyes out. The last time I cried that much, I must have been a baby! If my tears didn't tell him exactly how I felt, I don't know what else could have. And can you blame me? The guy totally treated me like a princess, and isn't that how any girl or woman would love to be treated? Those were the sweetest, most wonderful words I'd ever heard in my life! And I was sure that now I knew how 'real' girls felt to be completely in love with a guy. While I was musing about all these things, I glanced at my left hand and, for at least the thousandth time, admired the beautiful little ring on my finger. It was made of white gold, my favorite, and there were tiny diamonds completely encircling it. In the bright sunlight they sparked like ... well, like diamonds! I was so happy to be in love with a traditional guy - one that would still buy a ring for the girl he was going steady with. The pool party was held on a Sunday afternoon, a few days before Julia's actual birth date, the nineteenth. Mark and I arrived on time and Shane ushered us to the back yard where we found most of the other girls and their boyfriends already seated or in the pool - but no Julia yet. I got to introduce Mark to my friends, at last, and I couldn't help but notice how he gave every person a great big smile and "Nice to meet you." I felt so proud of him, and also very pleased that he wasn't the least bit shy about meeting new people. We found a pair of unoccupied Adirondack chairs that were attached in the middle - perfect for a couple - and got settled in. We were already wearing our bathing suits, so Mark just pulled off his tee shirt and I removed my beach coverup. While we were chatting with Sarah and her beau, Mark began applying sunscreen to my neck and shoulders. "Remember? Someone has to look after you," he chuckled, "and that someone is ME." I turned and gave him an appreciative smile and a quick kiss. Just then Julia appeared carrying a large pitcher of punch and, and I'm sure I saw a surprised look on her face when she spotted us kissing. I probably looked surprised too, because she had on a very skimpy and very cute black bikini that revealed just how nicely her body had developed since the last time I'd laid eyes on it. But right behind her carrying a tray of glasses was the guy I'd seen her with at the prom, and when they set down their loads Julia pulled him over towards us. "Hi Sandy ... oh, you must be Mark - I saw you in the play," she said, extending a hand which Mark took, replying with his standard "Nice to meet you." Then I remembered that the two of them had never been formally introduced. "Guys, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend Alex," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer. 'How do you like that?' I thought - 'another Alexander'. But this one looked nothing like me - he wasn't much taller but he was definitely a lot more built, especially in his chest, shoulders and arms. I was sure he pumped iron. Oh, and another small difference: I had long hair tied into a ponytail, eye makeup, nail polish, and of course my yellow one-piece girl's swimsuit on. Hopefully people would think I had the prettier face, too! I offered Alex my hand. "I'm so pleased to meet you," I said, trying my best to sound sincere, even if I wasn't, exactly. 'How much does Alex know about me?' I nervously wondered. Mark simply said "Hi Alex, how's it going?" The moment felt so awkward! Before Alex could respond, Julia cut in and told us that Alex was a college freshman - at the same school Phil was attending, I noted. I also noted that she was now clinging to one of his beefy arms with both hands. Alex finally got to speak for himself. "Uh, nice to meet you guys - Julia told me all about her friends." 'Not EVERYTHING, I hope,' was my uneasy thought. Like the Taylors' pool parties the previous year, I paid close attention to what the other girls were wearing. Except this time I found myself really envying the ones who wore bikinis, like Julia. One- piece suits were attractive enough, but there was simply no comparison with how wonderful a girl's body could look in a skimpy two-piece. I especially loved the prominent outward curve of a girl's hip when she was lying on her side, her waist so narrow and her breasts so prominent. If only I could look that good myself! But not only were my boobs too small, I also knew there was no way a tiny bikini bottom could ever hide the straps of my gaff, and even if it could there was still enough lumpiness between my legs that I'd feel like I needed to keep my crotch covered the whole time! So I promised myself that if I ever went 'all the way,' one of my first post-op purchases would be the perfect little bikini, preferably in white or hot pink. And maybe a boob job too! Mark and I had a good time anyway - the food was great, the pool temperature was perfect, and it was SO nice to be able to relate to the other girls on their level ... meaning with my very own boyfriend present. I found myself chatting with the girls, mostly about friends, clothes and summer activities, while the boys were having completely different conversations, mostly about cars and sports! But watching Julia interact with Alex, I began to feel like my days working for the Taylors were numbered. She seemed to be making a show of how much she was attracted to him - always putting her hands on his arms or legs, kissing him, and checking to make sure I noticed it all. I'm not sure why, but it put me off more than I would have ever guessed was possible. Her advice from the previous fall, about finding a different part-time job so I wouldn't have to dress like a girl anymore, came to mind. And by the time the party was over, I'd decided it was time to do just that, but not to avoid dressing as a girl - it was so I wouldn't have to deal face-to-face with Julia anymore. ***** I nearly forgot to tell you more about my amazing visit to Mark's house! It happened almost by accident on the Saturday a week earlier, and it did NOT start out well at all. Mark had convinced me I needed to buy a pair of real hiking boots - well, they were actually what he called 'lightweight hikers,' and he'd offered to take me shopping for them. So he picked me up at home, took me out for a light lunch, and then drove me to his favorite outdoor equipment store, which was in the same part of town where the McCowans lived. It was quite a change from my usual shopping destinations - no dresses, lingerie or cosmetics anywhere in sight! Just tons of backpacks, tents, hiking and camping accessories, outdoor clothing and footwear. Most of the customers were dressed in clothes that looked well-worn-in, to say the least, and unlike me none of the females I saw wore the slightest trace of makeup. The 'granola crowd,' Mark called them. I felt quite out of place in my white jean skirt, dressy floral-print blouse and 'accentuated' eyes and nails! "I suppose you're expecting your girlfriend to become the rugged, outdoorsy type from now on," I kidded Mark as we browsed the aisles. He seemed to get all excited every time he spotted some piece of gear he didn't already own, and he'd have to tell me all about it and how he'd make use of it, as if I had the foggiest idea what he was talking about. "Oh, I dunno - aren't you already? I have this image of you in my mind, all covered in mud with a very contented look on your face ..." "That was a look of pure shock, Mark," I laughed. "I'm still having nightmares!" Now it was his turn to laugh. "That was nothing! Wait till I take you camping and you have to sleep on the cold hard ground!" "I've never been camping," I said, while thinking 'maybe I'll just sleep on top of YOU - that would be more comfortable, and more fun too'. "As long as it's not in the mud, I'm sure I'll be fine." There were separate men's and women's shelves in the footwear section. A young sales guy immediately asked us if he could help, and that decided it for me - I'd be buying women's boots, even if my feet were shaped more like his. Mark had previously told me that my hiking boots needed to be a perfect fit to avoid getting blisters, so my original plan was to buy whichever ones felt the most comfortable. To my great surprise, though, there were at least three ladies' models that fit just right, even if they looked a bit mismatched with my white skirt as I walked around the store trying them out. In the end I opted for a pair with pink laces that looked the most 'lady-like,' even though they were also the most expensive. That seemed to please the sales guy, whom I concluded must be on commission. I added a pair of matching pink hiking socks of the same cushy thickness as the sample ones the store kept on hand for customers like me who showed up in sandals and bare feet to try on footwear. "I knew you liked pink, but aren't you getting a bit carried away?" Mark chuckled. "You're supposed to be buying tough-looking stuff. These are way too pretty ... you won't want to get them dirty!" "I promise I'll go wherever you take me, darling," I said in my sexiest voice as I snuggled up to him. "But I get to pick what I wear, and I just happen to like pink!" "Well, okay, who am I to argue - pink seems to like you, too." While I was paying for my new outdoor gear, Mark noticed that it had begun raining very hard outside. "Great," he grumbled - "the car's half a block down the street." "Let's just run for it," I suggested, maybe trying a little too hard to seem like the 'rugged outdoorsy type' for my guy. "You sure?" he asked, sounding quite unsure himself. "Sure!" I replied, and with that I set off, Mark sprinting past me to get there first and have the car door open, and me doing my best to run in my flimsy sandals. The storm was fierce, and huge puddles had already formed along the side of the road. You don't need any hints to guess what happened next. You're right - a car went by too close and I got the worst of it, soaked from the chest down with muddy water. I stopped dead in my tracks and just felt like crying - a total mess, for the second time in as many weeks! Mark quickly hustled me into his passenger seat, telling me not to worry about the upholstery, and we drove over to his house instead of taking me back home. "My place is a lot closer," he argued. "And don't worry, Sandra, Mom'll help you get cleaned up." I just sat there shaking my head, not saying a word, and trying my hardest to keep from having a complete and total meltdown! By the time we got to his house, the storm had already passed and the sun was coming back out. Mark hustled me around the back to their large patio, which I'd never seen before. On one side there was a very nice irregular-shaped pool and a change house. I'd figured that he'd get in trouble taking such a wet, messy friend directly in through the front door. "So do you want me to jump in your pool to clean up?" I asked, not entirely sure about what he had in mind for me. "Uh, maybe not, but you're welcome to if you want. Why don't you just wait here for a sec and I'll get my Mom." So I plopped down on a wet deck chair, feeling like a drowned rat, and half a minute later Mark's Mom was there fussing over me. "Alexandra, you poor dear! Mark told me what happened. Are you all right?" She sounded genuinely concerned, which surprised me. "It's okay, Mrs. McCowan. I'm fine. Well, except for my pride, I guess." She smiled at me and said, "Well, let's get you out of those wet clothes and into something dry. I was just about to wash some whites, so I'll add your skirt and we can hand wash your blouse. Wait right here - I'll be back in a jiffy." A moment later she was back with a bath towel and a soft-pink housecoat. But it wasn't one of those chintzy terry-cloth things, it was a shimmery, lace-edged robe that an elegant woman might enjoy wearing while seated at her makeup table with only lingerie on underneath. "Here, honey, you can wear this while your clothes are being cleaned. Does your underwear need cleaning too?" "Uh, I don't think so ... they should be okay," I fibbed, knowing beyond a doubt that my bra and panties were also soaked. But I thought they might still be clean, so I hoped I could just hang them out to dry. "Mark, please open the change house for Alexandra." "Sure, Mom. C'mon, Sandra, you can change in here." Once inside with the door locked, I couldn't wait to peel off my clammy skirt and blouse, and my damp undies too. Luckily there was a sink, which came in handy for rinsing out the bra and panties, and even better, a shower, which I thankfully used to wash myself off before towel-drying and wrapping the beautiful knee-length robe around my bare body. Happily it was made of a totally opaque satin material, so I wouldn't have to worry about gaff straps or body parts being visible. I snugged up the sash and, picking up my soiled clothes, stepped back outside feeling more than a little strange to be wearing one of Mrs. McCowan's items of lingerie, and not much else! "Wow, like I said, you always look so good," Mark kidded when he saw me. "Even in my Mom's housecoat!" I decided he deserved a dirty look and he got one, but it didn't last long and it was quickly replaced by a big smile. What can I say - he always made me feel so happy, even at an awkward time like that. Mrs. McCowan took my clothes - all of them, as she insisted on dealing with my undies, too - and her son and I settled into a couple of deck chairs, nicely dried off courtesy of my considerate guy, to enjoy the warm sunshine. The housecoat, as Mark called it, was a touch of luxury for me - it felt so silky as it caressed my bare skin, and it did a good job reflecting the sun and keeping me from feeling too warm. But Mark joked that he had to wear sunglasses because I was a little TOO dazzling in it! As for me, I made sure my legs always stayed together since the hem of the garment rode above my knees while I was seated. In no time Mrs. McCowan was back outside with a tray of sandwiches and fresh fruit, which she offered to me first, then she sat down to chat with us a while as Mark and I nibbled on the food. I must admit, I was feeling very nervous about being waited on hand and foot by Mark's Mom. And I got the distinct impression that she was trying to encourage the relationship between me and her son. Mark had never said anything and I'd been too shy to ask, so I still didn't know whether she knew my secret. But from the way she was treating me, I had to conclude she took me at face value - that is, as just a normal girl. That made me feel more relaxed in the present situation, but at the same time there was this underlying sense of dread, knowing that she'd eventually have to learn the truth if Mark and I stayed together for any length of time. And I SO wanted our relationship to continue! "Thank you so much for being so nice to me," I told her. "I nearly died when I got splashed. Mark must have told you how I got all covered with mud on our hike ..." She laughed and shook her head. "Oh yes, I did hear about that. Mark said you were a little out of your element - you're normally a very clean girl, aren't you?" "You've got THAT right, Mom," agreed Mark, rolling his eyes for effect. I was glad he didn't call me a 'clean freak' like Kath would have. "I just like looking well put together," I explained, "and getting all muddy doesn't exactly help ..." "I'm with you, Alexandra," she smiled. "It feels so nice when we look our best, doesn't it?" "You should have seen what Sandra looked like at the restaurant, Mom," said Mark, sounding like he was bragging on my behalf. "She looked spectacular." That reminded me. "Oh, Mrs. McCowan, I totally forgot to thank you for the wonderful dinner. I've never been to a place like that before - it was SO special." "You're very welcome, dear - it was our pleasure. Well, I suppose I should confess that I DID see you that night - I couldn't resist dropping by to take a quick peek." Mark and I exchanged surprised glances. "Mark's right - you looked very beautiful. I got a good look at your dress when you went to the ladies' room - it was so pretty!" I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable with all the compliments on my appearance, not to mention wondering just how much Mark's Mom saw that night! "Thanks - but after playing in the mud I knew I had to look extra nice to make up for it." "And you certainly did," she nodded. "But I don't think too many other young women would have cared what they looked like. I see so many wearing sloppy clothes, with piercings all over their faces ... and to me they always look SO unhappy." "I know exactly what you mean," I nodded. "If I looked like that I'd be unhappy too!" "I can't imagine you EVER looking grungy," Mark smiled. "Even when you're covered with mud." I repaid his smile with interest. "Mark tells me you LIKE wearing nice clothes, like skirts and dresses," Mrs. McCowan went on. "I'm the same way - not much into pants I'm afraid." Obviously not, I thought - she had on a pretty summer dress even though she was in the middle of doing laundry! "My Mom's the same too," I added, "so I must take after her. But dresses are so nice to wear, aren't they? I really don't get why girls hardly wear them anymore." "I wouldn't know," Mark chimed in, and that made me laugh "Wouldn't know about wearing dresses, or why nobody wears them anymore?" "Either!" Mrs. McCowan began laughing too, then got up and excused herself to check on the laundry. "Well, take it from me, Mark," I continued, "dresses are the best. Even if I'm the last person on earth who'll wear them." "Suits me fine," Mark smiled. "I always like you best in a dress!" Just then we were joined by Mark's younger sister Megan, who immediately dug into our plate of sandwiches without so much as a word, and started to retreat to the house again. "Megan," Mark admonished her gently, "don't be shy. Sandra won't bite - you need to come over and say hello." I gave her my friendliest smile and said, "Hi Megan, how are you?" The girl slowly came closer and replied, "Fine ..." We'd only met once before - the night of the cast party - but we hadn't been properly introduced and I doubted she remembered me. Mark had told me she'd seen the show with her Mom one night, but not when I was performing, so in a way I felt like I was still a stranger to her. But this time I got a much better look at her, with the bright sunshine. Megan was quite a cute girl, with longish brown hair, pulled back tightly into a ponytail. She was wearing a pale orange tee-shirt and a short jean skirt with a ruffled hem, and bare feet that revealed orange-painted toenails. I thought I could detect a hint of lip gloss on her mouth. "How old are you, Megan?" I asked, not being able to think of anything more brilliant to say than that. "Twelve," came her answer. "So you must be going into seventh grade this year." "Uh-huh." I didn't quite know how to keep this one-sided conversation going, but Mark came to my rescue. "Megan, did you know that Sandra's a dancer too?" "Really?" I thought I detected a hint of interest in her voice. "Yeah, she did modern dance last year - and she performed in a big recital." "What kind of dance are you taking, Megan?" I asked, trying to be as friendly as possible with her. Mark had previously told me his little sister was painfully shy around people she didn't know, but she could be a 'real character' when she got more comfortable with you. "Ballet. And I do tap, too." 'Wow,' I thought - 'that was a lot of words!' "Oh, we did some ballet and tap. I loved it but it was really hard. You must be very talented." Megan smiled at last. "Um ... thanks, but I think it's hard, too. But it's a lot of fun and we have a really good instructor." "How many times a week do you go?" "Three. Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday." "Wow - I only went once a week and that was hard enough. So are you doing classes all summer?" "Yeah - I just got back from my Saturday class." "Well, that explains why you're so hungry," Mark laughed. "C'mon and sit with us and we'll share." With that, Megan pulled over another deck chair and began helping herself to more food. "How come Sandra's wearing Mom's robe?" she asked Mark between mouthfuls. I decided to answer. "You know when it was raining a bit earlier? Well, I was walking along the sidewalk and a car went by. Can you guess what happened?" "You got splashed?" I laughed and replied, "I sure did. My clothes were soaked right through. Your Mom very nicely offered to clean and dry them for me." Now Megan was laughing too. "That would've been funny to watch!" Then her expression turned serious. "But wasn't Mark with you?" Mark and I looked at each other. "Yes, I was - why?" he inquired, sounding puzzled. "Didn't you get splashed too?" she demanded. Now I was also curious about what she was getting at. "No, I just got a little wet from the rain." "Well, that's not right! Isn't the gentleman supposed to walk next to the curb so he gets splashed instead of the lady?" Now it was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, Mark - how could you let that happen to me? Tsk, tsk - and all this time I thought you were such a gentleman ..." I shook my head, trying my best to avoid a major giggle fit. "Gee, thanks, Megan - now you got me in big trouble. Sandra's going to want me to make it up to her somehow." "You need to take her on a date!" Megan ordered. "And remember to be a perfect gentleman this time." Just then Mrs. McCowan reappeared, this time carrying a big pitcher of lemonade. "Megan," she said a little sternly, "are you bothering Mark and Alexandra?" "Oh no, Mrs. McCowan - she's not being a bother at all," I said as I gave Megan a big appreciative smile. "I think she's wonderful." Megan smiled back. "Is your name really Alexandra?" she asked me. "That's my friend's name too." "Yes it is, but my friends call me Sandy - that's my nickname. But Mark calls me Sandra," I said, giving him his own smile of appreciation for using my new favorite name, which made me feel even more feminine, especially when it came from his lips! "I think I'll just call you Sandy," Megan decided out loud. "I like that better, and then I won't get you mixed up with my friend." "Oh, but I hope I can still be your friend, too!" I offered sincerely. "Okay, you can. Would you like to come to one of my dance classes sometime?" "I'd love to! Are you going to have a recital too?" "Yep - on August twenty-second. Can you come?" "I think so. Mark, can we go?" Poor Mark - us two girls had been monopolizing the conversation. "Uh, sure. I usually do go to Megan's recitals. It'd be great if you could be there too." Mrs. McCowan had been left out as well, but the look on her face told me she didn't mind. "Oh, that WOULD be wonderful. Maybe Dad will be here and we can all go." "How about Marci?" Megan asked with a note of hopefulness in her voice. Mark had told me a little about his older sister Marcia, who no longer lived at home and rarely attended family functions. "Oh, I don't know, dear. She's usually very busy." Megan seemed a little downcast upon hearing that, like it was a common disappointment, but soon she was back to her previous chipper self. And I felt that she was beginning to warm up to me! "Sandy, do you want to see my Barbie collection?" Mrs. McCowan shook her head and said softly, "Megan ... Mark and Alexandra are visiting. You shouldn't be disturbing them." I glanced at Mark, who just shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Oh, Mrs. McCowan," I said, "it's okay - it'd be fun to see them." "Come on!" Megan ordered, as she grabbed my arm and pulled me out of my chair and toward the house. I followed her upstairs to her bedroom, and got a bit of a surprise when I stepped through the door. The room was neat and tidy - maybe not as tidy as mine, but hers was much larger. There was a window seat with an upholstered cushion at the foot of a very big bay window, and the room was very bright with all the extra light it let in. The furniture and fabrics were all quite feminine - lots of pinks, pastels and patterns everywhere, and lots of throw pillows on the bed, chair and window seat. I began to feel jealous that my room wasn't as pretty! Megan led me over to one wall where there was a tall white built-in shelving unit. Every shelf had several Barbie dolls meticulously placed in various positions, with props like chairs or tables, and all were wearing different outfits. Most wore dresses or blouse-and-skirt sets, but some had gowns and one was even wearing a bikini. "Megan, you're so lucky!" I told her sincerely. "I never had any Barbies - it must be so much fun!" "You never had a Barbie?" Megan looked at me like I was from a different planet. "I thought every girl had at least one. Couldn't your family afford them?" That sounded like a good out. "Well, my Dad died when I was really little and we didn't have a lot of extra money, I guess." "That's so sad!" she said sympathetically, looking as though she was pondering what it must have been like. "It's okay, Megan," I reassured her, "it was a long time ago. Everything's fine now - except I never had a Barbie!" I said the last few words with a smile. "But your friends must have had Barbies, didn't they?" I thought immediately of Kath, who probably would have left home if her Mom had ever tried giving her any doll, let alone a Barbie doll. "Uh, my best friend was kind of a tomboy - she didn't like dolls much." "Hmm ... so you've never played Barbies?" Megan pressed. I shook my head. "Uh-uh." "That's sad too. Well, you can play right now. Here," she said, handing me one of the dolls from the shelf, "you can have her and I'll play with that one." She grabbed another, and then rolled over a large wooden chest on wheels with a dozen small drawers across the front. I sat down on the carpet with my legs folded beside me, taking care not to expose my thighs and crotch. And then we got down to serious playing! "First we need to get them undressed," Megan said. "Then we'll dress them up again. What do you think they should wear?" "Do you have some more outfits to choose from?" I asked as I fumbled with the cute mini-dress that mine was wearing, not entirely sure about how to do this since I'd never played with dolls before! Megan laughed, "I have TONS of outfits! The best ones are in here," she said, motioning towards the chest. Then I noticed that all the drawers had labels on them describing the contents. "Okay, but I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do ..." "Sandy, didn't you EVER play dolls? All you have to do is pretend they're going somewhere, or doing something, and you get them dressed up in the right clothes ..." "Oh, okay ... well, how about we pretend that they're best friends and they work in the same office. Do you have clothes for going to work?" She laughed again. "Sandy, I told you ... I have TONS of clothes." She opened two of the drawers and inside were various skirt and jacket sets. "Here, just pick something you like!" "Shouldn't our dolls have names - I mean, something other than Barbie?" "That's a good idea - we'll call yours Alexandra 'cause that's your real name - and you can pretend she's you. What's your friend's name?" "Uh ... Julia!" I replied without even thinking. "And maybe mine can be Sandra instead of Alexandra, if that's okay." "That's a nice name too. Okay, Sandra and Julia have to get ready to go to work. Time to pick out some nice office clothes!" She began pulling items from the drawers, and I picked up several, holding them up to my unclothed Barbie - I mean Sandra, doll. Other than the mile-long legs, tiny feet and outsize bust, she actually did look a bit like me - long, dark hair and a tanned body. Julia, on the other hand, was a classic California blonde, not much like her namesake's coloring but her body was certainly a closer match, I thought. Soon we'd both chosen blouses, skirts, jackets and high heeled shoes, and after brushing out and tying back their hair in ponytails, our girls looked all set for a day at the office. Megan spoke as though she was Julia, saying good morning to Sandra and complimenting her on her smart navy-blue suit and white blouse. Sandra returned the compliment about Julia's bright red suit, which I thought was dynamite with that blonde hair! It took me a few minutes to totally get into the act, but before long our two working girls were busily going through their daily routine. Julia was answering the phone (another one of Megan's accessories) and Sandra was fetching files for her from the file room, and they were both chatting up a storm - about the boss, co-workers, and even the guys working in the office. The two girls took a lunch break together and got right back to business afterwards, until it was quitting time. But I don't think they talked about work all day! By then I'd decided that make-believe was great fun, although it did make me feel a bit ripped off about missing out on all the advantages of being a young girl. "Are you busy tonight, Julia?" asked Sandra. "Oh, I don't think so ... I was hoping to go out with my boyfriend but he didn't call. How about you, Sandra, are you busy?" "Mine didn't call either, Julia. So why don't the two of us go out together?" "That's a lovely idea, Sandra. Who needs boyfriends anyway, when you have such a nice girlfriend to go out with?" "That's exactly what I was thinking, Julia!" So we undressed our 'girls' and found appropriate evening wear for them, which consisted of short skirts, camisoles and Bolero-style jackets, finished off with calf-length boots. Of course, their hair had to be brushed out again to look as big as possible! One thing about Barbie, I thought - she's quite the sex symbol. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to go out dressed like that, but some part of me hoped that one day I could, just for fun. Julia and Sandra, being the best of friends, had a very chatty, totally enjoyable night out. Another 'rotic' evening, I thought, and for me there really was a kind of romantic (I mean rotic!) aspect to this make-believe world that Megan inhabited, that I'd been invited to visit with her. Like I'd told Mom, an adventure could be romantic - and this experience certainly felt to me like a wonderful adventure. An adventure into a world I'd never have been able to visit if I hadn't become Alexandra. More than a decade later, I still smile whenever I think of the time I spent with Megan in her bedroom, dressed only in her Mom's beautiful satin robe, and playing Barbie dolls as though both of us were pre-teen girls, not just one. It was a surreal experience - and one that I'll always privately treasure. But the nineties were different times, weren't they? I'm sure that nowadays a seventeen-year-old boy playing with a twelve-year-old girl in her bedroom would cause more than a few alarm bells to go off, and I'm also sure I could expect to get hauled away by the cops if I was found out! ***** My next appointment was at Dr. Westerman's office. They'd scheduled it for first thing in the morning so Dr. Cooper would be able to join us there before her regular office hours. The night before, I'd made an easy decision - since I was sticking with my plan to spend the summer as Sandra, I would have to show up in girl mode. No sense beating around the bush, I thought - I wanted there to be no doubt what my intentions were. After showering and drying my hair, I went through my usual gaff routine, and pulled on a pair of white panties and a white bra. Then I slid into one of the new dresses I'd bought from Vivian at Macy's - a basic sleeveless sundress with an irregular horizontal black stripe pattern on a white background. I liked it because it could be worn anywhere - to the store, to a show, to a party ... or even to a doctor's appointment! I slid my white hair band into place on the top of my head to keep my hair away from my face, and applied only a little daytime makeup. I didn't want to look overdone, just as normal a girl as I could without looking blah-boring. It had only been a couple of weeks since I got waxed, so I knew I'd be able to pass a close inspection if it came to that. And my sunburn had already faded into a deep tan, thanks to Mark's quick application of aloe vera, and I felt that it gave my skin a nice healthy glow. When I came into the kitchen Mom was preparing a quick breakfast for the two of us. She was also wearing a nice summer dress, so I was glad we'd look just like mother and daughter when we got to the doctor's office. "I thought you might be Sandra this morning," she said with a smile. "But a dress? They haven't seen you like this before. You do look very nice though." "Thanks - so do you! I just thought I should be honest with them. Mom ... I'm going to ask Dr. Cooper if I can start taking hormones." She looked a bit surprised by what I'd just told her. "Honey, are you sure about that? I know how much you enjoy being a girl, but hormones are a very big step." "I don't think they are - look at me now. My body's already changed so much ... I might as well go all the way." "Do you mean surgery?" "Yes, eventually ... I've decided that I want to do this for the rest of my life." ***** We got to Dr. Westerman's office a few minutes late because we couldn't find a parking spot close by. He didn't have a receptionist, just a large furnished room with a desk, a couch and some chairs. It was a corner office so there was lots of morning sunlight streaming in through the open blinds on the windows. Books lined the shelves on one wall, and on his desk were a computer and some neatly stacked papers. When we walked in the two doctors were discussing something, and they turned to greet us. I could see expressions of surprise on their faces, almost like they didn't recognize me - they both looked me over from head to toe! We were welcomed and shown where to sit, and the two doctors moved their chairs so that we were sitting in a circle. Dr. Cooper spoke first, as Dr. Westerman opened his notepad. "Sandy, you look very nice this morning." She glanced at Dr. Westerman. "But we didn't quite expect you to be wearing a dress." "Thanks for the compliment," I smiled, trying to hide my nervousness. "I'm spending the whole summer as a girl, so I get to wear dresses a lot." "You are? Um, that's interesting. That dress definitely suits you. And your hair's a lot longer than it was before - it's not a wig, is it?" "No, I had extensions put in for shows I performed in this year. I decided to keep them as long as I could." "Do you mean you performed as a girl? What kinds of shows were you in?" "Uh ... I had a voice recital where I sang as song as Pocahontas, a dance recital, where I had to be a girl ... and I played Hodel in 'Fiddler on the Roof' at my school." It was Dr. Westerman's turn. "That's a great role - good for you! But what was it like for you to perform as a girl in front of your family and friends?" "Oh, it was great - I loved it, and everyone was very nice ... like, I got lots of compliments and stuff." "Sandra's a very good singer. She loves to perform on stage and I'm encouraging her to pursue it as a career if that's what her ambition is." I was very happy that Mom used the right pronouns! But the docs sure caught what she said too. And I noticed that they kept glancing at each other every time they heard something significant. "You're going by the name Sandra now?" Dr. Cooper asked. "Yes, that's what I prefer. But my friends still call me Sandy." "Your mother says you love performing on stage," said Dr. Westerman. "How does Sandra feel about performing in social settings?" That was a perceptive question, I thought. "Well, I love that too. Everybody seems to accept me more as a girl than they ever did when I was a boy. One of my friends told me it's because of the way I look, the way I act, how my voice sounds - like, everything about me says 'female' so it's easy for them to relate to me as a girl." They both nodded. "That certainly makes sense," agreed Dr. Westerman. "Seeing you today, dressed like this, hearing you speak - I can completely understand. I'd never mistake you for a boy if I didn't know the truth." "Does your mother help you with your hair and makeup?" asked Dr. Cooper. "And your nails? Everything looks so perfect." I was glad she noticed how put together I was, but Mom answered before I could. "Sandra does it all herself. As a mother I'd like to help more but I know she enjoys that part of being a girl." "Mom DOES help me with my hair sometimes," I corrected. "I see," said Dr. Westerman, who was jotting down lots of notes as we conversed. "Sandy, last time we met you told us you had a girlfriend ..." "Oh, that's, uh ... kind of over now," I interrupted, feeling nervous again. "I guess you can probably figure out why ..." "Because you wouldn't stop dressing as a girl?" "Uh-huh." He scribbled a few more notes, then looked up at me. "So, Sandy - I mean Sandra, is there anything else happening in your life these days that you'd like to talk about?" I glanced at Mom, who just nodded slightly. "Well, I do have a boyfriend now ..." "Go on." I saw Dr. Cooper's eyes widening, and she leaned a bit closer. "His name's Mark ... I met him at school - we were actually in Fiddler together. We've dated a few times since then ... gone hiking together ..." "And Mark knows about you?" "Oh yes - but that's what kind of puzzles me. He such a good looking guy, and he's so nice ... I know he's dated other girls but right now he really seems to like me, a lot." I shrugged. "How do you feel about him?" Now I smiled. "Do you really want to know?" I took a deep breath and looked at Mom. "I care for him a lot too ... like, a LOT." "Are you physically attracted to him, or do you think you just like him because he's a nice person?" "Uh ... maybe mostly because he's so nice to me. But I'm definitely attracted to him physically. And I know he's, um ... attracted to me too." More glances. "Have you kissed him?" "Yes ... a few times." Everyone was silent for a moment, and the doctors glanced at each other yet again. Then Dr. Westerman continued, "Why do you think he likes you?" I laughed a little and shrugged, "That's what I don't totally get. He knows I'm really a boy, but that doesn't seem to matter. He really seems interested in me as a girl - I mean, like, he always encourages me to wear a skirt or a dress, and he loves it when I'm really dressed up, like with makeup and everything. And he treats me just like I was a regular girl." "Do his parents know that you're a boy?" "Uh ... no, I don't think so. But his Mom seems to like me a lot too, and I think she likes that I'm dating him - they even paid for a date we had at an expensive restaurant." "Interesting," Dr. Westerman said. "And can you tell me why you like him so much?" "That's easy," I giggled. "Like I said, he's very nice to me - well, actually he's nice to everybody. But he treats me like a lady ... you know - opening doors, getting up when I leave the table, that kind of thing. He's the perfect gentleman. And he's really funny ... and kind of romantic." "Romantic? Can you explain?" "Uh, sure ... well, he says romantic things, like I have pretty eyes, or he likes my smile, my smooth skin. And he likes to create romantic moments, like walking in the park holding hands." "I'd like to find a man like that," laughed Dr. Cooper. "Me too!" agreed Mom. Dr. Westerman chuckled. "I have one more question, Sandra. Could you imagine yourself getting married one day to someone like Mark?" This one was easy. "Yes I can - but like, I can't imagine getting married to anybody BUT Mark. I'm sure he's one-of-a-kind." The others just nodded. Dr. Cooper spoke next. "Sandra, you previously told us you preferred to keep your female attributes. That you didn't want to ever have male features. Do you still feel that way?" This question was even easier. "Doctor Cooper, I totally love my body. I don't ever want to lose my nice skin, my shape, my voice ... I feel really good and I know I look good too." "What about your male sex organs - how do you feel about those?" That was a bit harder to answer, but not much. "I've thought about it - I mean, having surgery ... I want to do it but I don't think I'm ready for it yet. I'm sure it'll happen sometime, hopefully before I'm twenty. I know it's expensive so I have to save a lot of money first." I glanced at Mom, who just sat there wide-eyed with that look of concern on her face. Dr. Cooper continued, "That will be something you'll need to decide in the future, Sandra. But at this point, with your feminine appearance, your high voice, and the way your body has developed, it would be a challenge to function successfully as a male. Your last tests indicated that you're still not producing testosterone, so you'd have to take it orally or by injection. Even then, you may never be able to have children. But then again, from what you've told us, you're quite happy to carry on living as a girl - is that true?" I nodded. "It's actually my goal to live like this permanently. Like, my life is SO much better as a girl, and now I know I can have a relationship with a guy too." Dr. Westerman looked at me, and then Mom, and said, "This is the crux of the situation. Even though Sandra's physical development has been chemically altered from male to female, her psychological sex has evolved to be female on its own. That can't be affected by hormones - it comes from within. I believe Sandra was born with a female psychological orientation." I wasn't sure he was correct about that last statement, but I wasn't going to argue the point either. The meeting was definitely going better than I could have hoped. Maybe my showing up as a pretty girl really had made a difference! As if to confirm my guess, Dr. Cooper looked at me and said, "Sandra, you surprised Dr. Westerman and me by coming to the meeting dressed as a girl. But we already knew that you dressed this way at home, for your job, and on the trip you took with your Mom, and that you easily pass as a girl in public. With that and what you told us in the previous interviews, we believed that you'd probably want to spend your life as a woman. Today you've only confirmed that in my mind. You make a very attractive young woman, and if I didn't know better, there's no way I'd guess you were ever male. Now, you're quite young to be making a life decision like this, but I also realize that your transition will be more successful if you don't delay it too long. And I'd be willing to help you get started. But I'd want Dr. Westerman to stay involved too." "That's right, Sandra," he said. "I'm quite fascinated by your case, and if you and your mother would agree I'd like to include you as part of a study I'm doing on sexual orientation, which I hope to publish sometime next year. Your name and other identifying factors would be kept strictly confidential. What do you think?" he said, looking at me, then Mom. Mom said, "If Sandra's comfortable with helping you, I don't see a problem." I looked at Mom, who only shrugged, then back to Dr. Westerman. "I don't have a problem with it either, if it helps me get where I want to go." Both doctors smiled at us and nodded. Then Dr. Cooper said, "Okay, ladies, I'll tell you what I would recommend, and why. First of all, for Sandra to be completely successful in her transition to being a functional woman, she'll need to be put on a strictly prescribed hormone regimen. This will help her body to fully develop female attributes, and prevent any male characteristics from appearing. She'll also be required to live a minimum of one full year as a girl - full time, with no breaks. Dr. Westerman will be assessing her progress from a psychological perspective and making a recommendation as to when the proper time for reassignment surgery would be. How does all this sound so far?" It sounded too good to be true! "I'm ready to start whenever you are," I replied eagerly, and I looked at Mom, who only shrugged again. "Mrs. Johnson?" asked Dr. Cooper. "How do you feel about it? You're still Sandra's legal guardian, so the final decision will be up to you." Mom looked like she was thinking carefully. "I only want what's best for Sandra," she said at last, "and if she feels this is right for her and she wants it badly enough then I'll support her. But I'm a little worried about how much it will all cost - we don't have a great deal of money, and I'm self-employed so I don't have any health insurance." Dr. Westerman spoke up. "Since you'll be participating in my study, I won't be charging a fee." Dr. Cooper said, "I'll mail you a detailed estimate of the medical fees and expenses right up to the surgery. The single biggest cost is the surgery, of course, and there are a number of options for that, but you can decide what's best for you when the time comes. The hormone treatments won't be that expensive. Why don't you wait and see how it all looks, and then you can make up your mind?" That seemed reasonable to me, and Mom must have thought so too because she nodded and thanked them both. Dr. Cooper scheduled a follow-up appointment for two weeks later. "If you're comfortable with the costs, we can start Sandra's treatments right away." As we got up to leave, I said as sincerely as I could, "Thank you SO much - both of you." I didn't realize I had tears in my eyes until Dr. Cooper handed me a Kleenex. ***** Mom was silent for most of the drive home, and I wondered if her mind was racing as fast as mine was. It seemed too good to be true - I didn't even have to get down on my knees and beg. I was going to become a real girl. Maybe I'd be able to attend school in my senior year as a girl - now THERE was a scary thought! But I wouldn't have to switch back and forth all the time. I could dress the way I wanted and keep my hair the way I wanted. Maybe I could join the cheerleading team - or maybe NOT! The best part was, I wouldn't have to live a lie anymore. And I was sure that Mark would be thrilled to have a REAL girlfriend instead of a pretend one. I knew I'd be more than thrilled to be that real girlfriend. Eventually I decided I should say something. "Mom, is everything all right? I know, that was all a bit heavy for you." "Oh, don't worry about me. I was just thinking ... there are so many plans parents have for their kids. Until lately, I still thought you'd eventually outgrow this girl phase and you'd be my son again, you'd get married, you'd be a father and I'd have grandchildren. But this spring everything seemed to change - you really BECAME a girl, not just a boy who looks like one. Then this morning it really hit me that you'll probably never grow up to be a man." "But Mom, I thought you really liked having me as your daughter." "Oh, Sandy, I do, I do - it's been the most wonderful thing in the world. I wanted so badly to have a daughter, and you're so perfect. But I always felt that I was being selfish ..." "Mom, we've been over this before ..." "I know ... I just need to know for sure that you didn't start doing this just to please me." "Mom, you KNOW that's not true. And it's ME that's being selfish, not you." Mom looked over at me and smiled, "Sandra, you're not selfish - you just know what you want in your life and you go for it." "Yeah, I DO know what I want, and I AM going for it," I grinned. "And I'll be there for you every step of the way," Mom said, as she wiped tears from her eyes. ***** Shortly after we got home the doorbell rang, and I hurried to answer it expecting Kath or maybe Natalie. But instead it was the mailman. "Is Mrs. Johnson home?" he asked. "I have a registered letter for her." Mom came and signed for it, then we went into the kitchen as she tore open the envelope. "What is it?" I asked apprehensively. "It's from a lawyer in Florida," she said, reading it over at least twice. "Oh, my God ... oh, my God ..." she repeated slowly. "Mom, is everything okay?" I asked again. She put the letter down and looked at me, a stunned expression on her face. "It's about my father ... your grandfather." "You mean Grandpa Johnson?" Idiot, I thought immediately - that's Dad's father. "No, the other one. Grandpa Blacklock. You know I never met him. This letter says he died two weeks ago ... and they want me to go to Tampa for the reading of his will. I wonder how they found me?" "Maybe they hired a detective," I suggested. Then I got a brain and said, "Oh Mom, I'm sorry ... I mean, about your Dad." How incredibly sad, I thought, that Mom never knew her father, her mother died when she was young, and her husband died after only a few years of marriage. Once more, I realized how self-centered I'd been all these years. "Well, Sandra, you and I are alike in so many ways - growing up without a Dad is just one more way. But if I'd only known he was alive all this time ..." "He probably didn't even know you existed, Mom." "Maybe. I don't know. But I do want to go - maybe I have a half-sister or brother." "If they want you to go, he must have left you something. When do you have to be there?" "Next Monday, the twenty-fourth - oh my, that's only four days from now. I need to book my ticket ..." "And get a hotel room," I added. We both went to her office and I went online to check out what hotels were near the lawyer's office in Tampa, while Mom called a travel agent. In less than twenty minutes we had her all booked. "Do you need any new clothes for your trip?" I asked. "Hmm - I think I should wear a business suit but I don't have anything that's good for summer. How would you like to come with me and help me shop for one?" "Oh, that'd be fun - I'd love to." Then I remembered about shopping for women's summer clothes in the summer, and said, "We'd better go straight to Macy's." To be continued ....