Chris And Mark Forever free porn video

Chris and Mark Forever by DKB Mark opened the gate, then walked down the path and round to the back, where he found that the back door was unlocked. So he opened it and stepped in. He had been in this house often before and knew it almost as well as his own. But the fact that it seemed empty was weirdly unsettling and made him feel like he was sneaking around where he shouldn't be going. He walked through the kitchen, into the hall and up the stairs. He put his hand to Chrissy's door and slowly opened it. And there she was, lying on her front, on her bed, unmoving. She'd phoned half an hour ago to tell him her parents were away, so he could come round and do whatever he wanted to her. He gulped when he saw how she was dressed, like the innocent young schoolgirl she had never actually been. She wore flat buckled black school shoes, white knee-socks and a navy skirt, and a blue blouse and pullover. Her long hair spread out in waves that rippled over her shoulders. Her arms were folded under her head, her eyes were closed and she was breathing softly and evenly, pretending to be asleep. Mark sat down by her side on the bed and stroked his hand over her legs and her hips and up her back. He stroked her hair and her cheek. He bent down and kissed her shoulder. Then he lifted her skirt up round her waist, revealing plain white cotton panties. He gently massaged her buttocks, then slowly pulled the panties down, over her socks and shoes, and threw them to one side. Looking at her pale, round arse he felt his mouth watering. He let a big gob of saliva drip onto her left buttock, kneaded it in, then leaned over and kissed and licked over her smooth flesh. Then he did the same with the right buttock. Finally one more big gobbet dripped right onto her arsehole. Mark licked his forefinger, slowly inserted it into her anus and gently moved it around. At this Chrissy pretended to wake up. She threw her head back, gave a low moan and said, in sultry tones, "Oh, Mark. I am so fucking glad you're here. I have been waiting all day for you to come and stick your cock in my arse." Mark let out a nervous giggle. He saw Chrissy had left her lube out on her dressing table. So he picked it up, then pulled off his trousers and pants and squished a big load of grease over his cock and into the inside of her rectum. Then he lay down on one elbow and put his cock to her entrance. She was keeping her legs together and clenching her buttocks, so, as gently as he could, he had to push hard, until he felt her arse pop open and his cock-head slip in. Then Chrissy spread her legs and relaxed her sphincter and he slid all the way into her warm, fleshy pocket. He fucked her firmly for a few minutes, but then he felt her twist under him and she said, "Hang on, I need to rest a bit," so he pulled out and she turned round onto her back and looked up at him and her eyes sparkled. Still half-dressed, she looked beautifully perverse to him, top half prim schoolgirl, bottom half obscenely bare. From her shaved pubis her cock stuck up eagerly. He put his hand round it and started to masturbate her, making her squirm and giggle. She put her arms up round his neck and drew him down for a kiss. Almost two years earlier Chrissy had gone to school for the first time as Chrissy. It had been arranged with the school and she had sent an email round her friends letting them know what was happening. But still she felt a bit nervous and wasn't sure how it would go. It wasn't quite the first time she'd worn a skirt to school, but then it had just been for a dare. This time she was serious. Mark was ready for school as early as he usually was, but he loitered by the shops, waiting for Chrissy to come by. He'd only seen her a couple of times since they'd had sex together in the woods when she had come out to him and then they'd only hung out for a while. She'd briefly mentioned seeing different doctors and how long everything was taking, but he hadn't wanted to pry or bother her with questions, so they hadn't talked about it much. She was letting her hair grow out, longer than ever before, but she wore it loose and unstyled. And wearing just jeans and t-shirts she could be the same old Chris he'd always known, as if nothing was different. But now Mark was worried that she thought he was embarrassed by her and what she was doing. And he was, a bit. So he decided he would be there for her on this big day. Even as bell time approached and he knew he was going to be late he made himself wait. Then he saw Monica, Chris's girlfriend, coming down the street with another cute girl who waved and said, "Hey, Mark! What are you doing here?" "I wanted to see you to school." "Aw, thanks! I've got my two best friends here. Isn't this great?" Mark knew it was Chris. He could see it was Chris. But still he felt suddenly awkward with this pretty stranger. Girls had that effect on him and Chrissy was a girl now. She was dressed plainly for school, in black and white: black, clompy lace-up shoes, calf-length skirt and thick woollen tights; white blouse. Her hair was tied up in a plain ponytail that hung down over her shoulders. Mark shrugged shyly and said, "So, is the school okay with you, then?" "Yeah. Of course. What could they do, anyway? I'll bloody wear what I want." "Yeah!" Chrissy took Mark and Monica by the hand and they all marched to school together. By the time they got there they were a full four minutes late and the playground was empty, so nobody bothered them as they went straight to registration class. Their form teacher was a burly, muscular man with a military manner and a sharp tongue who was known for intimidating pupils. As Chrissy entered he looked up, over his glasses. "Good day Miss Burns," (sardonic emphasis on the 'Miss'). "So glad you could join us. I see your induction into the fairer sex has done nothing for your timekeeping." The class all giggled. Girl or boy, Chris was always late. And some of them hadn't heard what was happening so they thought the whole thing was a joke and were surprised Mr Sutherland seemed to be taking it so well. "And I see you've brought your entourage as well," said Mr Sutherland as Mark and Monica shuffled in sheepishly after Chrissy. Chrissy and Monica found a desk together to one side of the classroom and Mark went to sit on his own at the back. At the end of registration, as the class streamed out to their lessons, Mr Sutherland caught Chrissy's eye and said, "Miss Burns, could I see you for a minute before you go?" Chrissy was used to being kept back in class, but Mr Sutherland didn't look as if he was about to tell her off. She still felt self-conscious though, under his sharp eye. He looked her over and said, "Well now, Chris. Do you still go by 'Chris'? I have 'Chris' in my register." "Chrissy." "I see." He paused again. Chrissy felt his cool, unreadable gaze on her and she shuffled her feet nervously. Then he said, "You and I have had our run-ins together, haven't we, over the years, but I want you to know that I have never had cause to doubt your courage, and nor do I doubt it now. However, if anyone in this school should give you any trouble about your, shall we say, life-choices, if you feel it to be more trouble than you can handle on your own, then I would be grateful if you would tell me and then I will call that person in and I will stomp all over him with all the authority of my position. Do you understand me?" "Yes sir." "That's good. I will be keeping an eye on you, Chrissy, as I always have done, but I hope you will find it a friendly eye." "Thank you sir." "Ok, off you go now." Chrissy backed out of the classroom and only with difficulty resisted the urge to curtsey. Even if he was on her side now Mr Sutherland was still a scary guy. At break-time Chrissy hung out with Monica and some of her friends. Mark came over as well and hovered nervously about on the edge of the group. He felt he ought to be there to support Chrissy, but he didn't know any of them apart from her and he felt awkward. Chrissy said, "Why don't we catch up after school?" Mark said, "Oh! Right! Yeah," and drifted off, feeling as if relieved of a duty. By the end of the day Mark had begun to think that maybe he just should slink off, that Chrissy didn't really need him bothering her. He started ambling home, but Chrissy came after him and said, "Hey! Wait up!" He paused to let her catch up. "Hey. How's it going?" "Oh, ok. People who are assholes always were assholes, so that's just the same. People are looking at me funny. Heh. But, I just feel..." She jumped and skipped around him. "Brilliant! I'm really doing it, Mark! I can't believe it!" Mark felt happy for her, of course. But he felt a stab of something else as well, a feeling of loss for something just out of reach, something that perhaps wasn't really meant for him anyway. He'd fantasised that she would need him. He would be her rock and stand by her in her struggle. But he could see it just wasn't like that. She was so strong and independent he felt useless next to her. She said, "You look at me funny as well. But that's ok. Don't worry about it. I know you feel a bit weird about all this. But I want you to know I really appreciate that you're ok with me. And you don't have to be there all the time. I don't mind if you're embarrassed." He spoke hurriedly, trying to grab of hold of something important before it slipped away. "No! It's not like that. I just... Oh, God. Remember that day in the woods?" "Yeah, of course. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I was totally out of order. I don't want to embarrass you." "No! Oh no! I don't mind. No, I want you to. I mean..." He started gabbling. "I think about that day every day and I know it was just one of those things that happen and I don't think I have any right or, I don't expect anything, but I will never ever forget..." She stopped him mid-sentence with a kiss and without thinking he threw his arms round her and kissed her back, right there in the street, where anyone might see. And then they walked together, holding hands, then arms about each other, until they got to Chrissy's house. It was empty because Chrissy's mum was out shopping, so Chrissy took Mark up to her room and gave him a blowjob. And then they drank coke and played video games until it was time for Mark to go home for tea. At school they kept apart. Chrissy was outrageous as ever and tested teachers' tolerance to the limit with make-up, big earrings, miniskirts and heels. She stalked the playground with her mates and had sarcastic putdowns for anyone who dared make any smartass remarks. And Mark was as diffident and studious as he usually was. There were rumours. Everyone knew they had been friends before, so it was not surprising that they should still hang out, but Chrissy's new status made their relationship seem strange and salacious. Mark stonily refused to react to any whispers and no-one really took them seriously anyway. The idea that awkward, timid, prickly Mark Halford could actually be getting off with anyone, let alone with Chris Burns, seemed ludicrous, a subject for jokes, but not serious speculation. And Chrissy was a dreadful tease. Did she have a boyfriend? "I might do." Was it Mark? "It might be. Maybe he fucks the shit out of me three times a night. Maybe he's got the biggest cock in school. But you'll never know." Away from school, in private, they spent as much time together as they could. They took brief moments to make out, in her bedroom or his. They hung out in cafes in town, or went to the movies. When the weather was still good they occasionally went back up to their place in the woods for leisurely afternoons of love. Over their last two years at school they grew ever closer. Unable to keep his hands off Chrissy, Mark stopped caring who knew he loved her. By the time people finally realised that, yes, Chrissy and Mark really were going out together, it seemed like old news and there was nothing more to be said about it. Mark's parents had never approved of Chris and weren't comfortable about her now. But they could see that Mark was happier and more confident than he had been for a long time. They resolved to forbid him from seeing her if his grades ever suffered. But that did not happen. By contrast Mr and Mrs Burns liked Mark and had always considered him a good influence on Chris. They did not like to think of their son/daughter having a boyfriend, but preferred that Chrissy hang out with Mark than with any other boy. The summer after school finished Chrissy and Mark were inseparable. Mark would be at university in the autumn, so it was as if they had to spend as much time together as possible before Mark left. Late in the summer Chrissy's parents went away for a weekend together and left Chrissy on her own. So she phoned up Mark and invited him round to see her. She lay on her back with a happy smile and an erect cock. She lifted her arms up over her head and Mark pulled her pullover off. Then he unbuttoned her blouse and kissed her body after each button, down her chest to her belly. Then he reached round, undid her bra and pulled that off. Eighteen months of female hormones had given her tiny titties, not enough to fill an A cup, but her nipples were surprisingly large and sensitive. He kissed each in turn and felt them harden under his tongue and Chrissy moaned in appreciation. Then she took a pillow and plumped it up and put it under the small of her back, offering her arse up to him. She spread her legs, one stretched up the wall by her bed, the other pulled up to her chest. He put a fresh load of lube into her arse, then fucked her firmly and deeply, slowly increasing his pace until his heart was pounding and Chrissy was panting and gasping. She clutched her cock and masturbated vigorously until she came over her stomach and he came in her arse. Then he sank into her arms. Their cocks squished together, her sticky belly rubbed against his and his broad chest lay on her tits. They kissed. A year and a half later, Mark will be studying chemistry at Manchester and Chrissy doing part-time shop-work and making vague plans to go to college sometime, to do something. Mark returns home when he can, to be with Chrissy, but then he invites her to visit his flat for the first time. One of his flatmates is celebrating a birthday with a meal out and Mark takes Chrissy along to introduce her to his friends. They are serious and earnest and eager to show how liberal and comfortable they are with Mark's transsexual girlfriend. But they are secretly relieved to discover how attractive and feminine she is. They purse their lips with disapproval when she refers to herself self-deprecatingly as a tranny, but are otherwise delighted by her. Vivacious and lively, she sparkles in conversation and charms everyone she meets. To the question, "So, how long is it now, since your, um, surgery?" she replies, "What? Oh no, no. I haven't yet. I've still got the jolly old cock," and they all make another mental reassessment of their seemingly conventional flatmate. Mark gives Chrissy his bed for the night and unrolls a futon for himself. He is prepared for Chrissy not to feel like doing anything in a strange flat, but she seems up for it. She says, "Don't you want to?" "Well, yeah, if you want to." "Well come on then. I'll try and be quiet if that's what's worrying you." "Oh don't worry about that. No-one'll hear anything." The truth is that he secretly wants them to hear. He wants his flatmates to hear him have sex with his beautiful girlfriend. They continue their long-distance relationship. Every time Chrissy suggests that she move to Manchester to be with him he tells her there's no point because after his degree he'll probably be going somewhere else to do his doctorate. She should wait until he gets a job and then they can settle down together. But Chrissy feels increasingly stifled at home. Bored and aimless she decides she wants to move out to the big city, whether Mark is there or not. She gets a little flat and takes jobs where she can find them, mostly in cafes, and pubs, but with stints of office work as well when she can get it. However, living in the same city as Mark doesn't seem to mean seeing much more of him. In his final year he pushes himself as hard as he can to get a first class degree. On evenings when Chrissy isn't working Mark usually is, staying late in the lab or studying for his finals. He tries to make time to take her out for dinner sometimes, but even on these days he seems distracted by work. Claiming he needs to be up early in the morning he is never keen on late nights and when they make time for sex she finds it hasty and unsatisfying. And then, just as he had said might happen, he accepts a place to study a PhD in London and they are further apart than ever. In London Mark gets a flat of his own, which makes it easier for Chrissy to stay with him for days or a week at a time. But he has little interest in going to pubs and clubs and she is not interested in art galleries or museums. And anyway he never stops working in his lab, writing up papers or tutoring undergraduates. He doesn't suggest she move in with him permanently and she isn't sure she'd want to if he did. One day she says, "Is there any fucking point in me being here? I'm in your flat and I never see you! I might as well be on the end of an email." He says, "Look, I told you, I'm busy. I'd love to be with you all the time, but I just can't. What do you want from me?" "You're my boyfriend. What the fuck do you think I want? I want you to take me out, get me drunk and fuck me in the arse now and again. Is that too much to ask?" She sees a hurt look cross his face but it only makes her more irritated. "Oh come on!" "Is that all I mean to you?" "Fuck off! Don't give me that shit. Of course it's not all you mean to me. If I only wanted cock would I really be here? Do you think there are no men in Manchester? Do you know how often I get hit on at work? But I only think of you. It's you I want. But if I can't have you..." "I want you as well. I know how hard this is baby, but think of the future. I've got a good chance to get into pharmaceuticals. It's an expanding industry. If I work hard I can earn enough to get us everything we want, a big house, dream holidays, everything. We can be comfortable together." "But Mark, I don't care about any of that. I want a boyfriend, not a...not a pension plan." He looks away and says, quietly, "Maybe I'm no good for you. I can't be the man you want." "Oh for fuck's sake. Don't be stupid." "Shut up! I mean it! If you want someone to be at the beck and call of your arsehole night and day you should find some other bugger, 'cos that's not me." "Fuck you! Maybe I will! What about that?" "Maybe you bloody well should!" "I bloody well will!" She gathers her stuff together and leaves immediately, even as he begs with her to stay. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Please don't go." "Fuck you! I can't stay here now." She catches the next train she can and goes all the way back to her parents' house. It's after midnight when she arrives and she hasn't got a key, so she bangs on the door and rings the bell until her mum wakes up and comes to let her in. Without a word she barges in and up to her bedroom, gets into bed and cries herself to sleep. The next morning she tries texting and calling Mark, but he's not answering. She starts composing, in her head, an email of apology, pleading with him to forgive her. But when she goes online she makes the mistake of checking her inbox first, and there it is. "Dear Chrissy...I love you with all my heart...it tears me up to fight you...can't bear to see you unhappy...but maybe...not meant to be together...live your own life...don't wait for me...find someone who can make you happy...I will never forget you...All my love, Mark." And she has no answer except to submit to his logic. "Dear Mark...so sorry...never wanted to hurt you...I'm selfish...you deserve someone who can support you better... someone who understands you...you're the loveliest guy I've ever known...Love, Chrissy." She wanders the streets in a daze. She feels hollowed out, an empty shell, as if someone scooped out her heart and threw it away. She feels weightless, as if whatever had grounded her has been cast adrift and she might float away in the slightest breeze. Whatever seemed sure and permanent in her life as a woman has gone. It's scary, but also slightly exhilarating. Her future is wide open. She ends up visiting Monica and her boyfriend, Rory. She drinks and blubs and drinks and tells Rory how wonderful and lovely he is and Monica how lucky she is to have him. Then she drinks some more and passes out. Monica and Rory carry her up to their spare room and Monica undresses her and puts her to bed. On a nostalgic whim Monica gives her old high-school boyfriend's penis an affectionate squeeze and Chrissy comes to life again. She gazes into Monica's eyes, rests one hand on her arm and with the other strokes her cheek and her hair. Then Monica looks away, bashfully, and retreats before anything can happen that she might regret. Mark deals with breaking up the only way he can think of, by working harder than ever. He feels too dull to do anything else. He feels it was maybe just a fluke that he ever had a girlfriend. He's too serious and shy to know how to have fun. But that's the future. Right now Mark's still a teenager, and Chrissy is the whole of his life. "I'm getting a shower," she said and left the room and he watched her bottom wiggle as she went. He lay on his back in Chrissy's bed, with Chrissy's spunk drying in flakes on his belly and he felt as if he could just stay there forever, like the furniture. She had a Lady Gaga poster on her wall and a pile of fashion magazines on her desk. Her clothes lay out, skirts and tops over the back of a chair, a little pile of bras and knickers in a corner. She had an alarm clock decorated in pink fur. The sound of her voice brought him out of his reverie. "Mark! Come here!" He groaned. He was content just to lie in her bed and didn't want to move, but she was insistent. "Come on!" For some reason he felt the need to pull his trousers on. Then he went to find her in the bathroom. She stood in the shower, with the door open, looking like a nymph, her skin sparkling in the water. She smiled eagerly. "Come in and join me." Mark felt faint. "Ok." He pulled off his trousers and joined her. He held her and kissed her and the warm droplets bounced off his skin and made it tingle. Chrissy washed him all over and then invited him to do her. He scrubbed her shoulders and her back and her bum. Then he slipped a soapy finger into her arse, but she shrank away from him. "Don't do that please. The soap stings." "Oh. Sorry." "That's ok." She turned round and stuck her chest out at him. "Do my front now." So he soaped her down from her tits to her toes. Then they held each other again and let the water cascade over them. Mark was strongly erect again, so Chrissy crouched down and sucked him off. The stroke of her lips and tongue and fingertips drew him to a shuddering climax. As he spurted into Chrissy's mouth a tremor of ecstasy ran through his body and his legs almost buckled under him. When they finished washing they got out and towelled each other down. Chrissy wrapped a little towel round her hair to dry it and sat on the toilet seat and Mark sat on the floor and looked adoringly up at her. She suddenly felt awkward before his gaze. She shrugged and wrapped her arms round her chest. She said, "I guess I'm not so much like a girl with my clothes off." He didn't really know what to say to that. He admired her sweet round face, her big brown eyes, her smooth, soft skin, the gentle curves of her breasts, her belly, her thighs. He said, "You're my girl. You're beautiful." Then he pushed her thighs apart, leaned in and put his lips round her cock. He stuck his tongue out and licked her balls. It was just skin and flesh, like kissing any other part of her. Kissing and sucking made it grow until it more than filled his mouth. He squeezed his lips round her shaft and rubbed up and down, faster and faster, until she put her hand against his cheek to make him stop and said, "It's ok. You don't have to try so hard. I don't think I'm going to come again now. But thanks anyway. That was lovely." She leaned down and kissed him and she thought she could taste herself on his lips. Mark got dressed again in his jeans and t-shirt but was then banished from the bedroom while Chrissy got ready. He slouched around the living room for a while and then Chrissy came down, a vision of glamour. She wore a creamy pink cocktail dress over pale, gauzy nylons with cream, court shoes. A suggestive swell to her bust was only slightly assisted by padding. Her hair was up in some complicated, glamorous do. She had long earrings on and a silver necklace and when she nuzzled up to him he smelt an exotic perfume. He felt plain and shabby next to her intoxicating beauty. "God! You're so sexy." She giggled and shrugged. "Thanks." "I wish I was wearing a dinner jacket or something." "Aw, no. I don't care about that. I want to look sexy for you." "God, you bloody do!" "Are you hungry?" "I'm hungry for you." "Heh heh. Don't be so corny. And wait here until I microwave some peas." In five minutes she called him through and served lasagne, which Chrissy must have started cooking before he arrived, though he felt as though he'd been with her for hours. She was wearing a frilly white apron over her dress, like some young housewife from the fifties. She got out a bottle of wine to go with their meal and afterwards they had ice cream with strawberries. On a sudden whim Mark gave her a spoonful of his, so then she fed him from her spoon. And he fed her again from his, but she giggled and some of it went on her chin. So he wiped it with his finger and she sucked his finger and he kissed her and he felt the chill of the ice cream on her lips. And she felt as if her life-long dream were happening to her right now. Every fantasy she ever had about being a wife and lover and tending to the needs of a caring, loving man was being played out and she swore to herself that Mark could have her forever. But when she breaks up with Mark Chrissy will make a conscious decision not to mope too much, but to try to enjoy herself. She will go out clubbing whenever she can and when customers at the pubs she works at flirt with her she will flirt back. There are loads of young guys around willing to take a chance on a girl like her. They all suck her cock as if paying an entrance fee to get into her arse and they have a tendency to want to jackhammer her, as if they had learned all they knew about sex from watching porn. But with a little training an enthusiastic guy can be a generous, sensitive lover. As a single woman Chrissy can get wined and dined and fucked whenever she wants, with no strings, no consequences. She stays friends with Mark and they email each other regularly. He visits her in hospital when she gets her implants. He is slightly appalled to see her looking so haggard and drawn. She pulls her t-shirt up to give him a peek at her chest, bruised and scarred, with two huge bandaged lumps stuck to it. He can't understand why she's beaming so ecstatically. She notices his concern and says, "Don't worry. The swelling will go down. But not too much, I hope. Heh, heh." He visits her again three months later. She opens the door to him in a little black mini-dress with a deep cleavage that seems to draw his eyes to it magnetically. Any doubts Chrissy might ever have had that Mark was basically straight are dispelled by the powerful fascination he has for her boobs. All through dinner he can barely take his eyes off them. He is stunned by how beautiful she is. He would not have believed that she could be any more beautiful, but now it is as if perfection has a new dimension. After dinner she lets him slide the straps of her dress down and play with her tits. He caresses them reverently and kisses them all over. He watches the way they move as she sits up or lies down. There are tiny scars under each breast that he can only see when he examines them closely. He traces the line of them with his tongue. The almost child-like way he delights in her breasts makes Chrissy laugh. It gives her a warm comfortable feeling when he sucks on them. When she feels her tits have had enough adoration she directs him to pay some attention to her lips as well. And when they make it to the bedroom she lays him down on his back on her bed and slowly straddles his cock and as she rides him she lets her boobs dangle in his face and when he comes it is as if he has saved a week's worth of spunk for her and it oozes out of her arse and drips down her thighs. Over breakfast the next morning she says, "Can you stay a few days? I'd like to have you." He gives a guilty shrug. "I'd love to. You know I would. But I really can't. I've got a report I have to do." "Oh well." She smiles ruefully. "Fuck off back to work then, if you have to. But keep in touch, yeah?" "Of course. Always." As Mark continues his doctorate he learns to manage his workload better and when he gets near to the end, when he's writing up his thesis, he manages mostly to keep it to office hours, except when he has to prepare for a seminar or a conference. He has a few good friends and of course he keeps in touch with Chrissy, though his relationship with her is now platonic since he has started seeing a girl called Victoria. Victoria is elfin and slim with dark, alluring eyes. But in character she is practical and down to earth. A former colleague of Mark's, she has given up her doctorate to do teacher training. In her spare time she pampers Mark, serves him home-cooked food and lets him lay his head against her breasts whenever he feels tired. He does not feel romantic yearnings for Victoria, as he did for Chrissy, to protect her and look after her. She needs looking after no more than Chrissy did. But he can relax with her and feel comfortable and free to be unconditionally himself. Meanwhile Chrissy is an assistant manager in a coffee shop near Manchester University. Though she is only twenty four the school-leavers and students that mostly work for her make her feel old. They can be loud and boisterous, and training them and nagging them and listening to their personal problems makes her feel motherly towards them. But she is content to feel she is living a calmer, more orderly life than she has done before. She has had few relationships since Mark and none lasting more than a few months. She does not go out with workmates, no matter how young and handsome they might be, and with regular customers she enjoys cheerful banter but not romantic repartee. But she has a wide circle of friends and is perfectly happy being single. After getting her implants she feels more confident and comfortable with her life. Whether because she feels more womanly, or simply because she is more mature, she feels less anxious and self-conscious than in the past. She can literally put up a brave front to whatever life has to throw at her. After what has felt like a long and delayed adolescence, from hormones at sixteen to breasts six years later, she feels like she has grown up into her adult self. The idea of full sex-change, once a distant dream, has faded from her mind. She is now the woman she wants to be and she doesn't want to change anything more. She has a nice flat, a nice job and a nice life, but she would like some excitement as well, some new experience. One day she meets a photographer called Jason who wants her to model for him. "You're a dream girl, babe. You're not going to turn me down are you?" He tells her she is a "natural beauty". "Silicone ain't natural," she says. "I'm not talking about the silicone." "Yeah, right." "I mean it. Men didn't just start fancying you when you got boobs. Am I right?" "Well..." "I knew it. Your eyes, the way you hold yourself, the way you move; you've really got it babe." He tells her he has contacts with websites that will, without doubt, "for deffo" accept sets of her shot by him. "And once you get your face out there there's no limit to where you can go." He mentions numbers that, while not huge, are big enough to make her think that if she makes a go of this she might pay off the loan for her boobs much quicker than she had planned. It sounds like easy money. For her first shoot Chrissy's brief is to dress as a sexy secretary, which she takes to mean tight black skirt, tight white blouse, stockings and suspenders, bright red lipstick and her hair in a bun. Jason gives her a pair of glasses with plain glass lenses to wear as well and sits her behind a desk with a computer and a desk telephone. She starts off coyly, sucking on a biro pen, winding the phone flex round her fingers, playing with her glasses. Then she slouches in her chair and throws her head back in a "fuck, am I bored" manner, but also pulls her shoulders back and sticks her chest out, making her blouse stretch across her bust. Jason makes her repeat this pose with the top three buttons of her blouse undone, so her boobs burst out. She scoops them out of their cups so they flop out on top of her bra. Then, with her blouse completely open she leans back in the chair and spreads her legs, so her skirt rides up past her stocking tops. By rearranging her cock in her knickers and pulling her skirt tight round her thighs she can produce a suggestive bulge. Then she pulls her skirt right up to reveal lacy knickers straining against the pressure of her penis. Then she strips down to stockings and heels, unties her hair so it tumbles down over her shoulders and goes through a few stock poses. She perches cross-legged on the desk, cock tucked out of sight, hands laid demurely on her lap, her boobs squished between her arms. She spreads her legs and looks down at her groin with an expression of surprise and delight, as if to say, "Wow, look what I've got!" She gets up on her hands and knees and twists round to look over her shoulder, face and arse in shot together. For the final part of the session Jason brings out a vibrator. She brushes it gently over the sensitive skin round her arsehole, but Jason shakes his head. "Shove it in. Fuck yourself with it." She tries, but even covered in lube it feels too hard and unyielding and inside her rectum she doesn't feel anything from the vibrations. "I'm sorry," she says, "I can't really get into this." "With respect, love, it ain't for you. It's for the punter, yeah? You know, the guy wanking himself silly looking at you on his computer? He wants to see you get off. And he wants you to enjoy it. Can you do that for him?" She smiles. "I'll try." "Good girl." But Chrissy finds it awkward to move the vibrator in and out and masturbate at the same time and trying to concentrate on this affects her state of arousal. Her semi-erection starts to wilt, so Jason reluctantly lets her put the vibrator to one side. She lies on her back with her knees up, tickles her anus with a finger and masturbates as hard as she can. She feels as if she is rubbing herself raw, but eventually a dribble of semen spurts out and over her hand. "My god, that's beautiful," says Jason. "So beautiful. Ok honey, now lick your fingers. Show me how much you love that spunk. Yeah, that's right." Then Chrissy showers and dresses in her street clothes and Jason gets her a coffee. "How was I?" she asks. "You're a fuckin' star. We'll do this again some time, yeah?" "Ok." Jason sells the pictures next to the name "Krissy Monroe" because he says her mouth reminds him of Marilyn. For her second set Chrissy is a schoolgirl, which is basically the same as being a secretary except that she wears her hair in pigtails and adds a school blazer and tie to her costume. Afterwards, over coffee, Jason casually introduces the subject of Chrissy's "hardcore debut". "I know this great guy, Damien. You'll really like him. He's bisexual." Chrissy expresses the view that she is not quite ready for this next stage. Jason is reassuring. "Don't worry about it. Obviously you'll meet him first, have a few drinks, get to know each other. Then we can do it." Chrissy expresses the view that nonetheless she feels Jason is leading her into this too quickly, that she would prefer, if possible, to do more of the kind of thing they were already doing. Jason is patient, but firm. "Sure, sure. Solo stuff is bread and butter. But you've got to do boy-girl sometime so you might as well get it over with. Listen, I happen to know that Damien has a few windows clear over the next two or three weeks, but after that he's busy as fuck. We can't waste any time." Chrissy expresses the view that she would have appreciated being asked whether she wanted to do hardcore or not and that, furthermore, having considered the issue, leaving to one side the matter of not having been asked, she does not want actually to have sex with anyone in front of a camera. Jason is petulant. "Oh come on, doll! Don't piss me about! Are you going to be professional about this or am I wasting my fuckin' time? I have put my time and effort into this. I am paying you, so I expect you to do a professional job, not spit in my face." Chrissy expresses her decision to leave forthwith and not to involve herself with Jason, professionally or otherwise, ever again. Jason is disgusted. "Fuckin' amateurs!" Jason does not pay Chrissy for the second set, but she decides not to pursue the matter. 'Krissy Monroe' spreads over the internet like a rash for a couple of weeks and then sinks into obscurity, just another drop in the shemale ocean. Later Chrissy tells Mark about her time as a porn star and she is surprised by how seriously he takes it. To her it is just a silly situation she once got into and can laugh about now, but Mark gets upset about her being exploited and wants to be reassured that she hasn't been traumatised by it. "Did you go to the police?" "No. He didn't actually do anything to me, Mark. Ok, he didn't pay me, but I don't think that's really a criminal matter." Chrissy forgets how sensitive Mark is about some things. It is endearing how earnestly he cares about her, but she wants him to realise that she can take care of herself. She nudges him. "Do you ever look at shemales on the web?" He blushes and looks away. "A bit." "There are some pretty sexy ones, aren't there?" "I guess. But none of them are you." "Well, one of them is now." That night, after Victoria has gone to bed, Mark googles 'Krissy Monroe' with mixed feelings. Just as he expects, the pictures are like a parody of the woman he loved, with awkward poses and a contrived sexiness. One picture makes him pause. She is completely naked (except for black stockings and suspenders). She stands up straight and faces the camera directly. Her cock hangs down, just slightly erect. Her heavy breasts stand proud. Her hair hangs loose round her shoulders. She gazes boldly at the viewer with a wry, warm, generous smile. Mark's heart swells with pride that he knows and is friends with such a strong, good, beautiful woman. He downloads and keeps this picture only. Despite her experience with Jason Chrissy still feels she might like to do some more modelling. She answers an advert for life models at the art school. There a panel of tutors admire her physique but tell her she isn't quite what they are looking for. "Undergraduates need to start out studying a more conventional anatomy," one of them says. As she gets ready to leave another of the panel, a tall woman of about thirty with short, spiky hair, asks if Chrissy would be willing to model for her for a project she is doing about representations of gender. Without being quite sure what she might be getting into Chrissy agrees. The woman is called Meredith and she has a studio in her flat, in what was obviously supposed to be the living area, cleared of furniture but with lots of paintings and photographs on the walls and lots of equipment lying around, cameras, easels, paints, clay. Meredith clearly uses many different materials for her art. Chrissy goes into the bathroom to change into a plain white robe and when she comes out Meredith immediately starts photographing her. Snap, snap, snap. "Just walk around as you are," she tells Chrissy. "Don't look at me or anything." Snap, snap, snap. "Some people take a little while to get used to the camera. Take your robe off whenever you feel comfortable." When Chrissy gets nude Meredith has her stand still, arms by her sides, and takes a couple of dozen photos of her from all different angles. Then Chrissy walks around for a bit. Then she sits down, then lies down on a couch, on her side and on her back (which is a bit awkward because she starts to get erect, though Meredith doesn't say anything). Then Chrissy gets dressed again and Meredith takes some medium shots and some close-ups just of her face. Then Meredith pays her in cash and they part. "I'll let you know if I want you back," says Meredith. "Don't get me wrong. I think you're beautiful. But things are kind of up in the air at the moment and I don't know quite where I am with work and money and shit. I'll be in touch." "Ok," says Chrissy. A week goes by, and then another, and Meredith doesn't get in touch. So Chrissy just gets on with her life. But three months later Meredith calls. "Um, Chrissy is it? Or Christy? I'm sorry, I can't read my writing." "Chrissy." "Yeah, that was it. Um, sorry I've left this so long. Things were shit for a bit. But I've got some money, sold some stuff, and I think I can do this, if you still want to. No pressure. If you've got any time for me then I think I know where this is going. If not, that's ok. It's just going somewhere else that I haven't figured out yet. So, uh, can you...?" "Yes. Sure. If you want me." "Great. I really do. Um, not tomorrow. Is Wednesday night ok?" "Yes. I get off work at six." "Ok. Can we say seven or seven thirty then?" "Ok." For the first few weeks Chrissy models for Meredith either on Wednesday and Thursday evening or for Sunday afternoon. Later it will be more frequently. To start with Meredith takes loads more photos of Chrissy, sometimes nude but mostly in different costumes. She has a rack of theatrical costumes and second hand clothes in the kitchen and has Chrissy dress up as a nurse or a maid (in genuine uniforms and sex-fantasy versions), or as a fairy princess or as Alice in Wonderland, or just in different outfits, in dresses or dungarees or jeans. There are men's clothes as well. She has Chrissy dress as a soldier or a fireman or in a business suit and tie. By adjusting lighting, posture and make-up Meredith can make Chrissy look either exaggeratedly feminine or anonymously androgynous in these costumes. "The point is that people won't know at first that it's all about you," says Meredith. "I'm collecting loads of stuff from picture libraries of ordinary people in different everyday clothes and uniforms and costumes. I'm going to stick them all up on my website and get people to say what they think about them and rate them as feminine or masculine - is a fireman more masculine than a lumberjack? - silly things like that. And you'll be in there as well, anonymously, in multiple guises, so hopefully after a while people will think to themselves - haven't I seen her before already? - and then when I take the project to a gallery there'll be all this stuff, but also portraits of you, photos and paintings, as a real person, not just the stereotype stuff I've been doing today, but they'll recognise you from before and they'll reassess all this stuff about costumes and roles and personas. Do you see what I mean?" "Um, not quite. But it's really interesting." At the end of the first session Chrissy takes the opportunity to look at the pictures on the studio wall. "Are these all yours?" she says. "Yup. They're the rubbish I haven't sold yet." "I think they're beautiful." There are some weird pictures, one of a naked man curled up in the foetal position and trapped in a giant icecube, another of a woman with an eye in her vagina. Meredith is dismissive. "Adolescent surrealist shit. I'm more into real life now. I don't want someone to look at my work and say 'Whoah, what was she smoking?' But, you know, people don't understand what imagination means any more." "She's nice," says Chrissy, pointing to a small portrait of a petite, dark-eyed girl. "An ex," says Meredith. "Oh, sorry." "No, don't be. It was a long time ago. Artistic differences." She laughed. After a few sessions of Chrissy role-playing for the camera Meredith sets up canvas on an easel and starts painting. "This is the main event," she says, "a reclining Venus, like Titian and Ingres, or maybe like Manet's Olympia. Anyway, I'll be fucking with art history. Classical nude, but because it's you and you've been in all those photos, you'll be like the image of the ideal feminine but revealing, through that ideal image, the complete human being. You'll be raw humanity both concealed and revealed by this paradigm of beauty." Modelling for the painting is more intense than for the photos. Chrissy reclines nude on the couch for two or three hours at a time with only a couple of breaks, trying to keep still and trying to occupy herself by watching Meredith working. After each session Chrissy puts on an old bathrobe and curls up on the couch and Meredith gets her a coffee. Meredith is gracious and attentive and Chrissy feels comfortable with her. She continues to talk about what the project is supposed to mean and Chrissy barely understands, but she likes to listen and to feel included. Meredith can seem cool and brisk, but she is demonstrative as well and often touches Chrissy on her arm or hand when she wants to make an important point. Chrissy has told herself that logically a lesbian ought not to be attracted to her, but her experience with straight men should tell her that things aren't always so simple. After the end of the third session for the painting Meredith brings out wine. After two glasses she sits next to Chrissy, puts a hand on her thigh and says, "You know, I really don't normally sleep with my models, but..." Then she looks bashful and laughs. "That sounds like a corny line doesn't it." Chrissy doesn't care if it's a line. She feels the thrill of a situation out of her control. She doesn't know quite what's going to happen next, but she unconditionally consents to all of it. In one movement Meredith leans in to kiss Chrissy on the mouth and slips a hand inside her robe. Chrissy feels her nipples harden under Meredith's touch. She feels faint and breathless. She feels a flutter in her stomach. She feels a warmth in her groin. Meredith leads Chrissy by the hand to the bedroom and slips the bathrobe from her shoulders. Then she has Chrissy bend over on her knees, with her legs apart and her bum in the air, and inserts a large, glass plug into her anus. Going in it stretches Chrissy to the limit and makes her feel raw and tender, as if she were a virgin again. But once her sphincter closes round the plug she feels a quite new set of sensations. The heavy bulb presses against her most intimate nerve endings and it shifts around inside her with every movement she makes, so that just walking around the room is an overwhelming erotic experience. Her cock leaps up, longer and harder than it has been for years. Meredith is amused and turned on by Chrissy's reaction to the novelty of the buttplug and finds herself excited to be seducing this young transsexual. She pulls off her trousers and pants, lies down on the bed and beckons Chrissy to service her. Chrissy's cock slides comfortably into Meredith's pussy as if returning to a childhood home. Meredith rubs her clitoris with one hand and clutches at Chrissy's tits with the other and Chrissy gasps and grunts with the effort of fucking. As she thrusts, the muscles in her buttocks clench, her sphincter squeezes against the plug and she feels like she is fucking and being fucked, both at once. She is assailed by tidal waves of pleasure crashing against her from outside and in. When Chrissy comes she flops down onto Meredith and lays her head on Meredith's breast and Meredith gently strokes her hair. Then Chrissy starts to find the plug intolerable inside her, like a great lump squeezing her insides, so she gets up on her knees and gently pushes. She feels her arse open up and the plug plops out onto the bed. She is kneeling between Meredith's legs. Meredith looks at her and says, "Have you ever licked pussy?" She thinks of Monica. "Not since high school." Meredith smiles. "You'll pick it up again in no time, like riding a bike." Chrissy lies down, puts her arms round Meredith's thighs and gives her pussy a big sloppy kiss. Then she kisses lightly round Meredith's belly and down the sensitive skin of each thigh. Then she takes a long lick up the pussy lips and feels them open up to accept the attentions of her tongue. She strokes, licks and kisses every millimetre of Meredith's pussy until she senses Meredith has warmed up enough that she can pay more direct attention to the clit. Meredith pants and gasps and claws at the sheets. Then she arches her back and grunts, "Holy fuck that's good head!" When she comes down again she holds Chrissy in her arms and says, "Do you have any plans for the rest of the night?" "No," says Chrissy. "Well how about we get a pizza, open another bottle of wine and then do some more fucking?" Chrissy grins. "Ok." Chrissy will embark on this new affair with gusto and enthusiasm without expecting it to last any longer than other recent relationships. But as she spends more and more time with Meredith, not just in her bed or in her studio, but out at parties or hill walking in the country, she comes to feel more comfortable and relaxed just hanging out than she has for a while. There is a quiet, reserved quality to Meredith that sometimes reminds Chrissy of Mark. But Meredith has an easy confidence in herself, without any of the anxiety that Mark has. When Chrissy's lease comes up for renewal her landlord decides he wants to sell up instead. Meredith says, "You've got a home in my bed for as long as you want." "Oh. Ok. I'll try not to be a nuisance." "No. I mean it. I love having you around. I know it's a bit poky and I understand if you'll want to find somewhere else soon, but don't worry on my account." "Aw thanks." Meredith's flat is very cramped for two people, especially since the living area is entirely occupied by Meredith's studio. But Chrissy has her work. Meredith spends much of her time painting or teaching at the college. And they spend as much of their spare time as they can away from the flat, out walking in the country or hanging out with friends. So they don't feel like they're crammed together all the time. Meredith is used to living off takeaways and ready meals, so Chrissy starts to cook for her and she also vacuums and tidies up the flat as best she can, which makes Meredith feel guilty. "I should be tidier. Just 'cos you're sleeping with me doesn't mean you have to..." "I don't mind," says Chrissy. "I want to help out." With Meredith Chrissy feels relaxed and happy. Meredith is down-to- earth, unfussy and easy-tempered. She makes Chrissy feel grounded and secure. Chrissy will occasionally look out for a new flat, but she doesn't try very hard. Later they both go house-hunting together, looking for something big enough for both of them. In due course Meredith finishes her paintings to her satisfaction and arranges to put on an exhibition. It is titled "(Wo)(man) in Time" and it consists of the photos of people Meredith has taken and collected, grouped together according to age or costume (schoolgirl, stripper, doctor, gangster) or style (some are glamour shots, some gritty realism, some cheesecake soft porn). And many of them are Chrissy, though she is often hard to recognise in different make-up and costume. There are interactive displays replicating Meredith's website, where visitors are invited to judge the gender of subjects from extreme facial close-ups. Then there are the paintings, first portraits of clothed figures in historical costumes, both male and female. Chrissy is the model for the female figures while Meredith has used herself as a model for the men. Finally there is the large nude. On a canvas four feet by two Chrissy reclines on a couch, looking like a modern Venus. The composition and the iconography are classical, but there's a photo-realistic gloss that makes the figure stand out to the viewer as if it were shining, living flesh. At the opening Meredith and Chrissy act as hosts together. Chrissy dresses modestly, in a long skirt and high-necked blouse, as if to establish her respectability. She is surprised by how nervous she feels about having people see her naked as that hadn't bothered her when she was doing porn for Jason. The difference is that here people she actually cares about, friends, will be seeing her. But when the exhibition opens and people turn up it really isn't embarrassing after all. She feels like an actress, a different person from the role she plays. Most of the visitors to the gallery are art people, who talk about brush-strokes and palettes and things like that. Chrissy finds it strange but slightly exciting to hear people discuss the quality of the flesh tones and the contour of the lines and think that it is her flesh and her lines that they are talking about. Some people don't read the catalogue and don't realise that Chrissy is transsexual. One old woman says to her, "You're such a lovely girl. I don't know why she had to paint you with a thingy like that. I guess I don't understand modern art." Chrissy's parents are supportive, but decide they don't want to come to the exhibition and Chrissy is actually rather glad of this. Mark is initially reluctant, but Victoria insists they have to go. She has met Chrissy a couple of times and likes her, but is still not sure how she really feels about her boyfriend having been out with a transsexual and she feels as if she has to prove she has no hang-ups about it. Meredith and Chrissy together escort Mark and Victoria through the exhibition. Meredith talks about her ideas and Victoria asks eager questions. When they come to the nude at the end Victoria stops to look at it. She says, "That is so beautiful." Meredith says, "Thank you." Victoria faces the facts. Her boyfriend's ex really is a beautiful woman. And she has a penis. But suddenly neither fact seems to matter much. She notices that Mark is blushing and for some reason that makes her feel that actually everything's ok. Later on in the evening, when Victoria is off chatting to Meredith, Mark returns to spend more time looking at Chrissy as Venus. Chrissy finds him and says, "Do you miss me?" "Heh. Yeah. A bit. But I do love Victoria. And before you ask, I don't wish she was like you. I like... Well, you're both different and I love you both." Then he says, "What do you think of this?" She says, "I don't know. It is kind of weird to be painted like a goddess in an old master. I mean, it's me. But I'm like some kind of icon. It is kind of nice I have to admit." Mark gives her a sly look and says, "Your penis is bigger than that, isn't it?" She laughs and shrugs. "It's artistic, apparently." "Oh. Oh well." As ever when he is with her, Mark feels filled with joy to be next to her beauty. He thinks of all the times they have had together. He thinks back to when they were kids. He remembers fucking her in her room when she was a flat-chested teenager and then sharing lasagne and ice-cream with her. After they finished eating they curled up on the couch together and found an old sci-fi film to watch on tv. An almost naked woman fell out of the sky into the back of Bruce Willis' flying taxi and together they saved the universe. It was silly, but a lot of fun, and exciting and moving enough that they kept watching until the end. It ended very late and Mark missed his last bus, which meant a twenty minute walk home. He wasn't bothered, though. The way he felt he thought he might float home in no time at all. But Chrissy snuggled up to him and said, "Do you want to stay over?" "Heh. Yeah, ok." He texted his mum, "stayn w chrs watchn movies". It was a good story and gave her an excuse not to think about what else they might be doing. Chrissy didn't even want to try sharing her narrow single bed with another person overnight, so they pulled out a big camp bed that Chrissy's parents kept for visitors and set it up in the living room. Then they undressed each other, lay down and made love again. Even after that, lying in bed together with the lights out, they were too excited to drop off quickly, so they held each other quietly, stroking, kissing and cuddling until eventually tiredness took them to sleep. Eight years later Mark will be married to Victoria and living in a converted farmhouse in the country. He works for a pharmaceutical lab and Victoria teaches science in the local school. Among other friends Meredith and Chrissy are regular visitors. They like to go on country walks together. Meredith's work is attracting more notice. Originals are selling for significant prices. She also sells prints of some of her works over her website and takes commissions for photographic work. Chrissy has taken courses in website design and e-commerce to help Meredith out and, in due course, she starts looking after Meredith's accounts as well. With the money that's coming in now Chrissy can leave her job and devote herself to Meredith full time. And finally they have found a new house to move into. It's out in the suburbs, with a big garden and room for an extension. "I can build a proper studio," says Meredith. "We can get a living room again. And you can get an office of your own." "That sounds great." "And after that," says Meredith, "there's another project I want to start on." Chrissy doesn't notice the slight edge to Meredith's voice so barely hears her when she says, "Will you marry me?" "What? Omigod! Oh yes! Oh God! Yes!" She feels like she's squealing like some silly woman in a rom-com, but she can't help herself. "Oh Merri! Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" They hold the wedding in a grand old banqueting hall of a country house hotel. Meredith wears a dark trouser suit with plum-coloured waistcoat and bow tie and Chrissy is in a cream, satin, off-the-shoulder ball gown. As her father leads her down the aisle she feels her stomach fluttering and her heart pounding. She has been preparing for this day for months and she feels like she wants to grasp tight hold of every second, but it's going by in such a rush it makes her feel faint. Before she knows it Meredith has sworn an eternal vow to her and then it's her turn. "Do you, Christine Burns, take Meredith Julia Kennedy to be your lawful spouse, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honour and cherish, for as long as you both shall live?" Chrissy feels a still calm come upon her, as if the world has stopped on its axis, and she looks in Meredith's loving eyes and says, "I do." Then the world starts turning again and the registrar continues with the ritual. There are rings. "With this ring, I thee wed." And then it's done. "By the power vested in me I now pronounce you joined in matrimony. I invite you to seal your union with a kiss." And Meredith smiles, brushes the hair from Chrissy's cheek and kisses her on the lips. At the reception Meredith makes a speech calling Chrissy her muse, partner and beloved best friend. Chrissy's father describes her growing up from a tearaway tomboy into a beautiful young woman. "It took me sixteen years to realise I even had a daughter," he says, "but today I am prouder of her than I have ever been of anything in my life." After the meal there is dancing. Meredith and Chrissy, of course, take the first dance. Then Chrissy is swept off her feet in turn by all of the men and many of the women (that is, Meredith's friends). Chrissy has never before worn heels for so long a period. So, although her heart remains buoyant and her spirit fresh, her legs and feet tire and before the end of the evening she is taking a rest at a table by the side of the dancefloor and watching everyone enjoy themselves. Meredith is dancing with Chrissy's mother. Her father is talking to Mark about something. Monica's kids are running around with Meredith's young nephew. Then she spots Victoria sitting out as well a bit further over. She is heavily pregnant and apart from a few slow dances has been content to sit and sip orange juice. Chrissy goes over to join her. "I'm sorry, you can't be having much fun," she says. "No, it's alright," says Victoria. "I'm really glad to be here. It makes me think of my wedding. I think Meredith is lovely and I know you'll happy together." "Thank you. How long have you got to go?" "Just a couple of months now. Ooh. She's kicking." "It's a girl?" "Oh, we don't know yet. We decided not to ask. I just like to try out different pronouns on different days." Then she says, "Do you want to feel?" Shyly, Chrissy presses her hand to Victoria's belly and feels briefly in touch with one female mystery that lies forever beyond her. "Oh wow! I think I can feel her." "Yeah, she's pretty energetic now." Victoria pauses and then says, "There's something we've been meaning to ask you. After the baby is born we want to have a naming ceremony. Neither of us are religious, but my dad wants to have a party, so we can have, like, a secular naming ceremony, to welcome her, or him, into the community of our friends and family. And we, that is Mark and I, we want you, both of you, to be, like, sponsors." "Oh." "It's like godparents, but without God." "Oh! Oh wow! You mean, like, we can give her presents and take her to things and have her stay on holiday and stuff?" Victoria smiled. "Well, yeah, that kind of thing, maybe when she's a bit older. But you don't have to do all that." "No, no! It'll be great!" "It's just that, neither Mark nor I have brothers or sisters so we sort of hope that she will feel there are other adults she can be friends with and learn from who aren't just mum and dad. She'll have grandparents, of course, but..." "Like aunties." "Yeah. So, would you?" "Oh yeah. Yes." Meredith is coming over to see what's happening. Chrissy calls out to her. "Merri! I'm going to be an auntie!" "Oh?" Victoria explains. "We want you both to sponsor our child at her naming ceremony." "Oh thank you. It would be an honour." Then Mark comes over. "I asked about them being sponsors," says Victoria. "And we said yes," says Chrissy. "That's great," says Mark. "It was Vicky thought of it. Like a christening party." A slow song starts up and, stirred by a sudden impulse, Chrissy says, "Mark, come and dance with me." Mark dithers, as he does when anything unexpected happens, but Chrissy takes c