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GOING THROUGH THE DOOR THE NEXT STEP By Betty Noone CHAPTER ONE A CONVERSATION WITH JEAN WHAT ARE THE ODDS? I called my best friend Jean at 8:45 P.M. on a Sunday night. I knew it was late but, to me at least, it was important. "Jean, can you meet me for lunch tomorrow? And if you can, do you think you can take a two hour lunch?" "What's up? Sounds important." "I really need to talk and you are the only one that I can talk to. Yes. It is important." Jean is a vice-president at a marketing company and she said she could arrange meeting me for lunch. I am a nurse at the Mercy Hospital which is only about two miles from where she works. On Monday it would not make a difference because my two days off are Monday and Tuesday, which means I work Wednesday through Sunday. I am an ICU nurse and love my work even though I am on my feet constantly going from patient to patient that need more care than most ordinary patients. I suggested we meet at the Marriott Hotel dining room, as during lunch they were not that busy and wouldn't mind if we spent a lot of time using the table. As it happens it is conveniently located but a short walk from Jean's office. At twelve-fifteen Jean is escorted to my banquette by the hostess. She greets me with air kisses on each cheek as I returned the gesture. I am already half way through my first gin and tonic. Jean notices. "Drinking at lunch, Cheryl? This really must be important." After she sat, our waitress appeared and handed us the lunch menus. She asked Jean if she would care for something to drink and Jean ordered an iced-tea. The waitress was about to leave, and I told her to bring me another. Mine will be gone by the time the second drink arrived, and I needed to have a stimulant. "So what's up?" Jean asked. "I don't know where to start. I am so conflicted about what happened yesterday at home with Jack and me. I think our marriage is about to go down the tubes." "Go on," Jean said. "You know I work on Saturdays and Sundays. When I get home at about six P.M. Jack usually has a drink ready for me, and on those days he makes dinner as he is off on the weekends. You know, Jack works for Dell Computers and is a computer expert. His job is to handle customers who are having computer problems. For the past six months, he and the rest of his guys are all able to work from home as they can get control of the caller's computer and work out the problem. He is good at it, he tells me. "That doesn't sound like a marriage problem to me." "Wait, there's more. On Saturday I didn't get home until six-thirty and having had a hard day because on the weekends the hospital keeps the staff short to save money and I was really stressed. Jack handed me my drink, and I went upstairs to change and check to see if there were any Emails that were important. When I got to the bedroom that Jack uses as his home office, the computer was on and on it was a web page that floored me." "It must have been something for you to be floored. I've known you for over twenty years, since High School and you take pretty much everything quite calmly." "Jean, you are my very best friend. This is going to be very difficult for me to tell you. Please, promise, promise, that what you hear will stay just between the two of us, no matter what." "You should know that without having to say it," Jean responded. "Well, Jack left the computer on to a web page, I think was called 'Literotica' and there were stories about transvestites and homosexuals and transgenders. It looked like the stories were all fiction. I couldn't help it, but i quickly read a couple of stories and was shocked that this was what Jack was reading. I made a note of the website so I could return to it at a later time. I gulped down my drink and slipped into some comfortable clothes and went downstairs to have dinner with what Jack had prepared. My mind was awhirl. As you know we have been married for over 18 years now, and he never revealed to me that he had any such tendencies. Is he gay? Does he want to become a trans-sexual? I had to confront him, but during dinner I felt was the wrong time to do so. All of a sudden I began to look at Jack in a different light. He cooks dinner and serves me on Saturday and Sundays. He lets me go to the family room to relax, watch TV or read the papers while he cleans up the kitchen. When he is done he brings me coffee and we sit and enjoy the evening. Was this activity more than being caring to me after a stressful day? Or is it something he is acting out? Being a nurse I am familiar with many of the psychiatric terms but haven't been confronted with any of them personally." "And?" Jean prodded. "It was only a half hour or so when Jack brings in the coffee and a small dessert on a tray. He hands me my cup already made the way he knows I like it, and he sat down beside me. He asked me if anything was wrong, because he noticed how quiet I was a dinner. I told him that although I was quite busy at work, my quietness had something to do with a different topic, and that we had to talk. I saw a little fear go into his eyes, but he just nodded, and I told him I found his website and that it floored me. What is going on?" I asked him. No, I demanded that he tell me." "Go on," Jean said. "He told me that it started since he began working at home. His work day starts and 7A.M. and finishes by 3 P.M. Except for Mondays and Tuesdays when I am not at work when he is finished with his shift, he seeks out these kind of web sites. I asked him why and he said he didn't know, but it turned him on. I suspected he was holding back and I told him that I expected all of his answers to my questions be truthful. He said he would. I asked if he knew about these tendencies before we were married, and he said he had them from time to time but was afraid to reveal them to me for fear that he would lose me. But that as he got older, they began to infiltrate his mind, and whenever he could he would cater to them, best he could. I asked him what he meant by that. and if he was gay. He assured me quite emphatically that he was not gay, that it was me who he loved with all his heart, and while he enjoyed looking at pretty women, he never had an affair outside of the marriage. I believed the last part, anyway." "And?" Jean prodded. "So, I asked him if he wore any of my clothes. Thinking back it was a stupid question, because Jack is almost six feet tall, with wide shoulders. His hands and feet are big, he takes a size twelve shoe, for heaven's sakes. There is nothing I have that he could even get a foot through. He doesn't have any feminine features. He is all man. At least I thought so, until Saturday night. He said that he purchased some outfits on-line and that on Saturdays and Sundays, when he had all day to himself, he dressed up as a woman the entire day. I don't know why but I asked if he had a name. Amy, he said. He was Amy. I asked him what he wore on the weekends, and what he did with his time. He said that while dressed he masturbated a lot, and he pretended to be the woman in the house. He cooked the meals. On Fridays he did the shopping for the weekend as he did not want to have to be dressed as a male, and certainly could not go out dressed as a female. He wanted to know if I wanted to see Amy. I could see that is what he desired. I told him not tonight, maybe tomorrow. He also said that the more he dressed as Amy the more he wanted to. I asked where he kept his clothes hidden and he told me in an old suitcase in a dark corner in the attic. He said that the desire instead of being satiated became stronger. I asked him to give me the names of his other web-sites, and I remember a few. One is Fictionmania, there is another called Submissive Sissy, and another called Sissy Girl stories. And there are others. I have them written down. They are all works of fiction and when I went to them on Sunday after breakfast, I found them to be unbelievable for the most part. Fantasies. Just fantasies. In the stories, it seems all the males can turn themselves into beautiful and passable women. But I digress. I told Jack that for tonight would he mind sleeping in the guest bedroom. It was past eleven when I went to bed. I found my mind running wild, and finally at 1 AM I took a sleeping pill, which knocked me out in to a restless sleep." "And Sunday morning?" Jean pressed. By the time I got downstairs it was about 10 and Jack was waiting to serve me breakfast. He was seated at the kitchen table reading the Sunday paper, and when he saw me come into the room he jumped up and served me coffee. He made waffle batter and poured it into the waffle iron as I sipped on my coffee. Other than saying good morning I still was quiet. He sat down at the table as Iate my breakfast, which I have to admit was quite good. "So?" he asked. "What?" "So, what do you want to do today?" he said. "You really want me to meet Amy, don't you?" "Yes. Yes I do. She has become part of me and it seems as time goes by, she is becoming more of who I am." "I don't know what my reaction will be if I see her, you know that don't you? You are taking a gamble here with our marriage. Once you let Amy out of the box for me to see, I am not sure I can, in my mind, put her back in. This has come so fast and there is so much that I am not sure or convinced about.. But O.K. I know that i am going to have to meet her sometime, so let's get it over with. How long will it take you to get dressed?" "Can you give me two hours?" "I am not going anywhere. Take as much time as you need. In the meantime I will be on the computer reading some of the stories posted there. When you are ready, that's where I'll be." "So, what site did you go on first?" "The site called Fictionmania seemed to have the most stories. I was amazed at how many new stories were posted by different authors in just one week's time. But some patterns developed. For one thing it seems the 'girls' as they call themselves want to be dominated by women. Professional dominants, wives, or girl friends, it doesn't matter, just so they are forced to become subs. Subs means the submissive. They must obey their dominants completely, are humiliated,severely punished for the slightest infractions. Many of the stories involve taking female hormones to change the body, and often castration and surgery to change the sex to become a female with a vagina. a By the way, it surprises me that you are taking this so calmly. I am a nervous wreck and you are just sitting there listening to me without any reaction." "I'll talk when you are finished with your story, Cheryl." "So, about two hours later there is a tap on the office door, and I tell him to come in. He is dressed in a blue nylon shift with the hem that comes down to a little below his knees. He has press on red fingernails on his hands. His face is made up, and I can see immediately that the tones are all wrong for his complexion. And the wig. It is horrible. It is blond and has too much hair. Much too much hair. His lipstick is too red and too much. I smell the aroma of perfume and realize that it is Taboo. I don't use Taboo, so it must be his. On his feet are a pair of black leather shoes with what I gather is a two or two and a half inch heel, with as strap along the vamp. It was his size and he obviously was quite comfortable wearing them. He looked like what he was, a man in drag, I had a difficult time not to laugh in his face as he looked ridiculous. Not in a million years could he ever pass as a female. Not on a moonless night at midnight. I asked him to twirl for me and he did quite nicely. He obviously was comfortable wearing heels. "I would have liked to see the expression on your face at that time." Jean said. "I really don't know what face I had on. I was repelled and fascinated at the same time. He wants me to call him 'Amy' but I can't do that. At least not yet. But I can't call him 'Jack, either, so I don't call him by any name. I told him that he need work to look better, but that I hoped he realized that he could never leave the house so dressed as no one, no one, would take him seriously. He told me that he realized that and that was part of his problem. His fantasy was to be like some of those in the stories I have been reading, even though he realizes that it could never be so." "What happened then?" Jean said. "I couldn't help myself. I knew that my husband Jack was not here, but an ugly woman who calls herself Amy, was. I had her sit next to me at the computer and we went on web sites where he bought his clothes. Most of the sites that catered to them were very expensive and for the most part had outlandish clothes. Did I tell you that becoming a French Maid in the house and doing the bidding of the dominant mistress was a big fantasy in so many of the stories? We went shopping on-line and made notes of what items to replace including going to the Paula Young Wig site and selecting a wig with a lot less hair, much shorter, just enough to frame the face and more to her own color of brown hair. I found that I was nowcalling her Amy, as she sat next to me. And Amy didn't correct me. We didn't buy anything but had a list if we decided to. I felt that we could buy the cosmetics locally at a kiosk in the mall, that would be more suitable for her. By now it is 1:30 and I am hungry. Amy went to the kitchen to prepare lunch and I went back to Fictionmania website to read more stories. The more I read the more fascinated I became." In the meantime the waitress brought our lunch and as we ate ,I continued telling my story. "So Amy called me to come down for lunch, and I found that I look upon this person as Amy. I didn't expect this. I was able to put Jack and Amy into their own boxes. One was Jack and the other was Amy. Ugly, yes. But nevertheless Amy. As we ate our lunch I asked her about her fantasies and was surprised at how many of the fantasies were similar to the stories on Fictionmania. The one thing I told Amy I didn't care for was his masturbation. He is almost 35 years old for heaven's sake, and being married I didn't think he needed to masturbate. He told me that when he was Amy he became so sexually excited that he had to masturbate, but that he had something that would prevent it. I asked him what that was, and he said that he owned a CB3000. CB3000? I didn't know what that was and I asked. Well, Jean, it is a device that fits around a penis and prevents one from masturbating. The penis fits snugly into a plastic tube and the tube is connected to rings that go around his scrotum and locks in place with a small padlock. When on it can't come off without unlocking the lock with a key, and the entire penis is enclosed in the plastic tube. When on it somehow doesn't show through the trousers as anything special. I asked him to go put it on so that I can see for myself as I had trouble visualizing what he was telling me. She ran upstairs and shortly came back, standing next to my chair as we were still in the kitchen. She shyly lifted her skirt, pulled down her panties, and there it was. I couldn't help myself, Jean. I reached over and touched it. Sure enough, even when I tugged on it pretty hard, it stayed in place. The penis is visible as the device is clear plastic. I asked Amy where the key was, and she reached in her mouth, removed it and handed it to me. I knew from reading the stories that it was the fantasy for the wearer not to be the key holder, and that their fantasies were to be under the control of their superior, but I wasn't about to go down that road. I took the key and went to the wall where we have a key rack and placed the key there. I told her that she was not to masturbate, but i wasn't going to be holding the key, either. The key was available, but I would prefer he/she would not remove it to masturbate. It took me until later in the day when I realized I was playing into his fantasy. Even though the key was in plain sight, the fact that I told her she wasn't to use it was taken as a command by her. There I go, using 'him' and 'her' interchangeably. As you can see Jean. I am confused. But after being with Amy all day Sunday, and without my asking, saw that when it was time for be, Amy slipped into a nylon shorty nightgown, I told her that she was to sleep in the guest room for now. I could not think of having Amy in the same bed as me. Without protest she agreed to do so. And so that's where I am, Jean. Jack confessed this morning when I left for lunch with you, that it has become his habit now to dress as Amy whenever I am at work. He makes sure to be Jack before I arrive home. Now, do you see my problem?" "What are the odds?" Jean asked. 'What? What do you mean what are the odds?" "What are the odds? A million to one? A billion to one? That of all the people in the world, you would be telling me this story." I took the last bite of my sandwich and signaled to the waitress to refill my coffee cup, and asked. "I don't understand, Jean. What are you talking about?" "That for the past three years my Jack is Carol. He too, is a transvestite." I involuntary found my hand covering my mouth in surprise. "And you never told me?" "Unlike you I am able to accommodate both Jack and Carol By the way, when Jack is Carol, he now looks quite nice. We even go out together once in a while to a dimly lit restaurant and for Carol it is an extra thrill." "Can you tell me more?" "Listen, it is getting late and I have to get back to the office. Can you come for dinner tonight? Just you. How about six? We'll talk some more. I don't know who will be there with me, but it will be either Kevin or Carol. I think it may help you in working out your problem." "Thanks, Jean. I'll be there. But your news is just as shocking to me as mine. Kevin. Who would have believed it?" "I can say the same," Jean responded. "Who would have thought Jack?" When I got back home it was close to 3 P.M. and Jack was just closing up his work station. He was dressed as Jack as I didn't tell him what time to expect me back when I left in the morning. On Mondays and Tuesdays I make the dinner, and I brought in just enough supplies for dinner for one. I put the supplies away and went upstairs where I told Jack that I would not be home for dinner but that he could make his own with what I brought home. I saw that he would have liked to ask where I was going but was afraid to. I purposely held that information back from him. He did ask if I knew what time I would be home, and I told him not to wait up for me but until further notice to keep sleeping in the guest room. At 4:30 I began to get dressed for the evening. I deliberately wore some dressy clothes, put on some sheer black nylons and wore my three inch stilettos. I wore some of my good jewelry. If Kevin was going to lose me, I cattily thought, let him know what he was missing. I left the house at 5:30 as it was a half hour drive to Jean's house. I know he wanted to kiss me good by, but I kept my distance and said, "See you in the morning. Don't wait up." CHAPTER TWO DINNER AT THE CONRAD'S I parked my car in their driveway and the front door opened just as I got to it. They obviously were expecting me, and they also knew my fondness for being either prompt or early. Both Jean and Jack were dressed casually, and I sort of regretted my getting so spiffy, but I wanted to make a statement to Kevin. Jack went to his little bar and made me a gin and tonic as all my friends knew that was what I drank. There were some crackers and a sour cream and chives dip, which somehow tasted better than just coming out of the carton. I commented on it and Jean told me that Jack always saw to it that food tasted 'special'. Jean and I were seated at the dining room table and Jack served. He also wore a cute white and lacy hostess apron around his dark slacks. For the first time I noticed his shaped fingernails. While there was no colored polish on them, they were buffed to a shine. His hair, sandy in color, had blond highlights in them, surfer style, and was slicked back. I could see his hair was longish and was wound tight at the back of his head sort of in a duck's ass style. We had a nice Burgandy with our beef tenderloin, which was done and seasoned to perfection. Assorted steamed vegetables and brown steamed rice completed the entree. There were no rolls or butter served at dinner. Jack did join us at the table after he brought the food. He also sat and ate femininely. I thought that perhaps I was being over- critical knowing in advance his proclivity. I commented on how delicious dinner was and Jean said it was all Jack's doing. He was such a doll, she exclaimed. And I saw Jack blush. Blush! He seemed so happy to receive the compliment. Jean and I went to the family room taking the rest of the wine bottle and our glasses with us while Jack cleaned the table. Jean called to him and told him to clean the kitchen later, but to please get dressed and join us, and Jack responded with a 'yes, dear'. He came downstairs in about a half hour. He had ringlets around his head with tendrils forming where his sideburns should be, but he had none. He wore a lilac nylon gown with red roses imprinted in the pattern. The robe had a low scoop neck showing a lot of chest with a little cleavage. It was obvious that he was wearing a bra. It had a fitted bodice and from the hips down a swirling, full skirt that stopped short of his ankles. On his feet were jeweled open toed sandals with what looked like a two inch heel. His toenails were pedicured and were bright red. In his ears were crystal drops that shook with each movement of his head. Three gold bangles on his right wrist and a thin gold watch with a shoelace strap on his left. Around his neck was a gold chain upon which was attached a lilac crystal stone. He had on foundation and lipstick, artfully applied I must say, and his eyebrows now looked arched. Not too thin, but certainly not masculine either. There was mascara on his eyes which gave them a curl and made his eyes look so much larger. I also noticed that he was now blinking his eyes more than before. At dinner I didn't notice how much weight he lost. At least forty pounds I guessed. I mentioned it aloud and Carol told me it was forty five. There is little red meat, mostly fish, chicken and salads. No bread or starches. The effect was astounding. He proudly told me that he went from a size eighteen to a size fourteen. He said he would like to be a ten or twelve but that he thinks this is a far as she could go without looking or becoming anorexic. Jean said, "Carol, darling. You look fabulous. Twirl for Cheryl." And to me Jean said, "She made it herself. She taught herself how to sew and makes a lot of her own clothes now." From a distance of over three feet one could not tell that Carol was genetically a male. But when she came closer one could see that her nose was not quite feminine and her chin was not pointy enough. But otherwise....quite acceptable. Jean continued. "This is the first time I saw her as 'Jack' in what? Three months? Is it three months, now, Carol?" It became obvious to me that Jean was quite comfortable with her husband who she calls 'Carol'. "Three months next week, honey," Carol responded. Jean must have seen the puzzlement in my face and explained. "Carol works at Nordstrom's in the ladies' shoe department. And she does quite well, don't you, honey? Carol nodded. "is he working as Carol?" I asked. "Oh, no. I will have to explain this to you. You see he works from noon till closing at eight. It takes about an hour to clean up the section and then turn in his receipts and get a printout of his day's sales. So she doesn't get home until about elevenish. By that time I am in bed and usually sound asleep. I have to be up at 6:30 to be at my desk at 8:30. Carol has to work Saturdays and Sundays as those are the busiest days and has Monday and Tuesday off. So you see we really don't get to spend much time with each other except for the day's she is off." "But you call her Carol and constantly refer to her as 'she' and yet you say she doesn't go to work as Carol." "That's right. You see, when she was Jack she only needed to dress up a little bit. But as time went on, the urges became stronger. With each step, in a short time an additional step was desired and was taken. First she dressed only by herself, and when I told her I would tolerate her dressing at home, it opened the door and I found that she was dressing at home most of the time. At first I didn't like it. But then she didn't then look like she does now." Turning to Carol she said, "You are really a cutie now, aren't you honey?" Carol just smiled sweetly, saying nothing. Jean continued. "With Jack coming home from work late and me leaving early we hardly saw each other. By this time we were sleeping in separate bedrooms, and at first we said it was because it would be unfair to disturb the sleeping partner because or our different working hours. Sleeping in separate bedrooms made sense. Then I saw that Jack began to make his room quite feminine looking. As an employee he gets an automatic 25% discount and if she waits for a really good sale, she gets quality stuff for really a pittance. And she has become such a good shopper, too. Her shoes come from Nordstrums and cost her nothing at all. Really name brands too, as the sales reps always gift the good salespeople with samples. Carol takes a size ten in a ladies' shoe which is a little large but still in the range of women's shoe sizes." "Carol and I share the housework at home, and since we both work, and as you can see both neat, there is really not too much to do in that department. Now I don't know if you know this, but at work my expertise is labor relations. And one thing that I have learned is that in the settlement of a dispute there are always compromises. In order to get something you have to give up something. Both sides have to believe that they won, that they gave up less than they gained." "I didn't know that," I commented. "Yes. That is true. Now the same thing happened here in this house. Carol needed to continue her journey into femininity, and had to give up being a husband. She settled to become my girl friend instead." Turning to Carol she cooed. "You're now my girl friend, aren't you, honey?" Then again turning to me she said, "From the beginning, when she was still pretending to be Jack, we slept together. I never got the satisfaction during sex, and while Kevin always had an ejaculation, I always felt that something was missing from our activities. I thought that maybe I just didn't have the capacity to get an orgasm. But as a dutiful wife I was always willing to agree to copulate when 'he' wanted it. So, when we slept in our separate rooms and our hours made it difficult to come together. It became easier to deny her when she was 'Carol' as I told her I wasn't comfortable doing it with a female. And that was the compromise that Carol had to make. She preferred to stay as Carol rather than have a relationship with me. And for me, I had to learn that this person was no longer a husband but was becoming another person. My compromise was that I had to learn to live in the same house with another woman instead of a husband. As it turned out I began to like the personality of Carol better than that of a Jack, so that was my compromise and then three months ago, she told me of another step that she had taken." "What was that?" I asked. "Carol told me that she slipped over the line." "Huh?" I said.. "Yes. She said that before, she was Jack pretending to be Carol, but that she now felt that she was Carol, pretending to be Jack. That when he went to work as Jacl he really felt like he was just pretending to be a male in order to keep his job. His nails were kept to medium length ovals, and he always wore a suit and tie with tasseled loafers. With lots of hairspray she brings her hair back as you saw it during dinner, but otherwise, with a tight perm, it is always as you see it now. Really cute, too." "But you seem to be so at ease with her," I protested. "Compromises, Jean. It takes compromises. At first one is not so happy with it, but one gets used to it, and then one begins to like it, and then it becomes the most natural thing to be. So we are still married for now, but even when we get our divorce we will still be girl friends. You see, I have learned to love her, much as I love you. I now consider her to be my best friend, best girl friend, next to you." "Wow." Carol then spoke. Her voice was deep but well modulated. She spoke slowly and softly and I noticed spoke with her voice moving in a range as women do. Her hands were expressive as when women talk. It didn't take long before I too forgot that she was not a real woman. "What Jean said is true. I also found out that the more I became Carol the less I needed to relieve myself sexually. At first it was a lot, but even with fantasies I found that I can't get it up anymore. I haven't been to a doctor about it, because I really am happy about it. I don't have to worry about a stiffy showing through my skirt. My panties hold it in place and unless someone would grope me they would never now I have a thingy hanging there.' "But you are home most of the time aren't you?" I asked. "Not as Jack. I am really happy the way I am. We now have our own checking accounts and credit cards. Jean takes care of all the bills as she is better at it than I am. I think I am becoming such a scatterbrain, sometimes. Each month Jean tells me how much the household expenses were and I give her a check to our joint household account for my half. Yes we share all the expenses fifty-fifty. All our personal expenses are paid for by ourselves." "Are you planning on going all the way?" I asked. "I am not even on hormones. I would like to be, but even though I am making good money at Nordstroms it is not enough to pay for them and still live a nice life style. Jean feels that even though she is making a lot more money than me, that the expense should be all mine. I would like her to contribute, but I can understand her unwillingness to do so." "You mentioned divorce. Is that a reality?" I asked. "Oh yes. As you can see she has become Carol She really needs to get her facial surgery and breast implants first, and she can't even afford that, yet." "And what about the family, and friends?" Jean replied. "Our families know. Her family is more accepting than mine. Of course, as their daughter, my family is looking to protect me, and can't understand why I have stayed this long with her until now. His family promised to help out financially as best they could and pledged $5,000.00 toward her hormone therapy or facial surgery after the first of the year when they get their tax refund. They have seen her only as Carol now and I think they are becoming accustomed to their son becoming their daughter." Carol spoke. "I have decided to tell Human Resources at Nordstoms at my intention to coming in as Carol. Jean thinks I ought to wait until we divorce and have my name legally changed. What do you think, Cheryl?" he asked of me. "Oh my. I don't think I am in any position to give advice." Jean said. "Let's now get down to your problem. Carol knows about it as she may be helpful to you in finding some solutions, with, what does she want to be called? Amy. Yes. Amy. I think that you should have Carol have a play-date with Amy next Saturday. I will bring Carol over in the morning, and then you and I will go out for the entire day. We can shop in the morning, have a leisurely lunch, see a movie, have dinner and then see a play. We won't get back to your house until midnight and that will give the 'girls' a chance to know one another." "I am not sure if I am ready to call Amy a girl." I said. "Give it time. You can either compromise as I did or leave. Those are your only choices. I can promise you, once Amy has opened the door, her desires will only get stronger and she will want more and more. But like Carol she will have to give up in order to get. And so will you if you decide to stay. For me, I decided that I like Carol better than Jack, and that is why we plan on staying in the same house as before. She is my sweetie. Aren't you, hon?" And Carol smiled sweetly in return. "Do you think you can switch days and get Saturday off?" Jean asked. I said I thought I could, but it would probably cost me fifty bucks to get someone to take my place on a weekend. Jean told me that it would be worth it if I did. CHAPTER THREE THE GIRLS DAY OUT, SATURDAY. And so it was arranged for Carol to come to my house this coming Saturday and spend the day with 'Amy'. The next day, being Tuesday, at the breakfast table I told Kevin of the plans I had for him this coming Saturday. At first he was horrified that I revealed his secret to another. But when I told him, that I wasn't angry with him, nor was I avoiding him but that I spent the day with my friend Jean. I told Jack of what Jean said at Monday's lunch. What are the odds of them each having a mate who enjoyed being female? When I related the events of Monday, and sort of apologized for having him think that I turned against him he felt better about it. I also told him that it was a long time since he saw Jack, but that Jack was no more, and was Carol, now. I said that on Saturday that Jean and I were going to spend the day outside of the house together, and it will be a chance for him to learn some things from Carol. At the very least I said, she could help you in your choice of apparel and cosmetics and hair. Maybe she could not make you look so much like a man in drag. Kevin listened and agreed to whatever I said. I realized it later, but not then, but when I told Kevin of my plans for him, he readily agreed to it, on his way to becoming a sub. I didn't realize that whatever I said he was to do, he would agree to, in his fantasy of my being his domme. It was 9:30 .A.M. when Jean drove the car into my garage where I made a space for them by having my car parked at the curb. I pushed the button and the overhead door closed behind them. I don't know why I bothered as Carol would not be recognized as other than a pretty woman. She was wearing a vee neck blouse with a full skirt. Jean later explained to me that Carol looked best in full skirts instead of pencil skirts or even A-line skirts because while she looked like a woman dressed, she still had the straight body of a male. She could accentuate it a little with a waist cincher and padded panties, but not enough. She looked best in full skirted outfits. She got out of the car and was pulling a small suitcase behind her. I was at the door to the garage waiting for them and Jack was nervously standing behind me. Jean and I hugged and air-kissed, and I and Carol did the same. I was beginning to identify her only as what she seemed to be. A woman named Carol. I stepped to one side so that Kevin and Carol could face one another, and Carol stepped forward and hugged and kissed Kevin warmly, saying, "It is so good to meet you, Jack. I think we will have a lot of fun today getting to know one another. Look at me, Jack. Do you like what you see? Would you like me to make you look more like me, than you do now?" Kevin, speechless, nodded his head. Carol persisted, "Say it Kevin. Say it out loud. Say it to me. Say I want to look more like you." Kevin swallowed and whispered, "I want to look more like you, Carol." Carol wasn't satisfied. "Louder, Kevin. Say it louder. I want your Cheryl to hear it." Kevin by the hour becoming more submissive, wanted not to but found he could not disobey and said loudly, for all to hear, "Yes. I want to look more like you." With that Carol rushed into his arms and held him tight. Jack could feel her breasts against his chest, and without realizing it, he put his arms around Carol and for about five seconds held her tight against him. Cheryl and Jean looked at each other and smiled. At Jean's instructions, Cheryl had a small suitcase packed with a change of clothes and some other things, and said their goodbyes to their spouses. Cheryl put the case in her car, and Jean took her case out of her car and placed it in the trunk of Cheryl's car along with Cheryl's case. And off they drove. They arrived at the mall about eleven A.M. and walked and shopped. Mostly looking and talking. Noon found them away from the mall to find a nice restaurant so they could continue their conversation, and the mall had nothing but a food court which wasn't suitable today at all. They did find a restaurant, one they had not been to before but they each ordered a salad with grilled chicken breast on top, and iced tea which they sweetened with Equal instead of real sugar. Cheryl started the conversation. "You know, I never had an orgasm." "What?" "That's right. I believe that I am barren. I never refused Kevin when he wanted to, you know, have sex, and I guess he was doing all the right things, but he was my first so I didn't really know. But I heard about the wild eruptions some women have, and often, certainly in the beginning, I envied them, but I realize that this is how I am. So I really don't miss having sex. It was something I did just to please my husband. Looking back I wonder if he was doing it just to please me, now that I know more than I did a week ago." "Well that is not the case with me, Cheryl. I don't need to get laid every day. A women's libido is not like that of a man, but every couple of weeks or so, I have a noonie at the Marriott with one of two of the guys in my office. I made sure that my escorts were not married men as I didn't want to get involved with a triangle, but I do get my cherries off when I need to, and I find it very satisfying." Jean smiled, and repeated, "Very satisfying indeed." Cheryl listened and was surprised at not only how open Jean was about her liaisons but the vulgar way in which she expressed it. In all the years she has had Jean as a friend she had never heard such words come out of her mouth. Cheryl wanted to change the subject. "What's our plan for after lunch" I'm tired of shopping. And thanks for warning me to wear comfortable shoes." "I thought we would take in a movie. We can go back to the mall. There is a chick flick that came out last Friday that I think we would enjoy. It starts at 2:15 but I found out that they always have fifteen to twenty minutes of previews before the movie starts, so the film won't begin until about 2:45. It is a two hour movie and it will get us out close to five. That will be just in time." "Just in time for what?" Cheryl asked. "You'll see. I think you will enjoy it." The time went almost exactly as Jean predicted. They both enjoyed the film. They walked to the parking lot and Cheryl behind the wheel, said, "Where to now?" "The Marriott." "The Marriott?" "The Marriott," Jean repeated. It was another forty five minute drive downtown to the hotel. Cheryl gave the car to the door man, and they both retrieved their small suitcases from the trunk. They walked to the bar, and asked for a table, in the center of the room, if possible. Cheryl was a little confused as she never thought that Jean was much of a drinker. Cheryl enjoyed her gin and tonics but always in moderation. The hostess seated them at a table and the room was about half full, mostly men, business men, relaxing after a day of meetings. And Cheryl noticed that by five fifteen, the place was getting more crowded and noisy. They sat quietly for about five minutes when a waitress, wearing a topless bustier and little else over black nylons and spike heels, handed them menus and asked if they would like to order something from the bar. Cheryl ordered a gin and tonic, and Jean ordered a beer to be served in a glass. The bar was already full of customers with almost a second line at the bar waiting to get the bartender's attention to place an order. It took about ten minutes before the waitress brought their drinks, bending over and showing her ample breasts when placing the drinks on the table. It doesn't work that great for women patrons, but the men always respond to it with nice tips. The waitress no longer discriminated and did her thing to all of her tables. It was less to remember. "Even if you are thirsty, sip it very slowly," Jean instructed. It took about twenty minutes for the drinks to be half consumed, when the waitress appeared with a re-order of what they were drinking, saying as she set the drinks on their table, "The two gentlemen at the bar bought these for you." Jean and Cheryl looked up and there were two gentlemen, dressed in business suits, greeting them with a smile and holding their beer bottles in the air in sort of a salute. Cheryl didn't know how to respond, but Jean smiled and sort of waved the men to come over to their table. And seeing the welcoming gesture, came to their table and introduced themselves. They were indeed from out of town on a business meeting and now they had the night to themselves for dinner and maybe a little action. They both revealed that they were married, but that didn't stop them from having a good time when they were out of town on business. They snagged a couple of empty chairs from a nearby table and sat down. Jean sort of took over the conversation for the girls, as Cheryl did not know what to say. She told the men that they were going to order dinner at the bar and then were not sure. The men, who seemed nice, asked if they could be their hosts for dinner, and maybe a drink afterward, and Jean told them that would be just fine. Cheryl sat there, smiling, not sure of what to say. The men were easy conversationalists. and told them of their positions in their company, which it seems was a little above middle management. They both were in their early forties and seemed quite fit. They dressed well, were educated, and interesting. Cheryl before she knew it, was fascinated with the man who chose her as his partner as it seems he had a very interesting life. They ordered dinner and it was seven thirty by the time they were finished. What the men didn't realize is that the girls revealed little about their personal lives, but were content to listen to the men expound. Jean's escort asked her if she would like to come up to his room for a drink and Jean said she would love to, but first she had to go to the ladies' room. She took Cheryl by the hand, asked the men to watch their suitcases, and left. In the ladies room, the girls did have to pee, and then when they were at the vanity repairing their makeup, Jean handed Cheryl two packages of condoms. "Always use these, honey. You never know. They look clean, but you can't tell just by looking." Cheryl not expecting this, took the packages and slipped them in her purse. "You can't have them buy you drinks and dinner and then walk away. That's not how its done. Are you O.K. with this?" "Yes, Jean. I wasn't expecting this, but I now am beginning to realize that I have to rearrange my life and that I don't have a husband anymore to worry about. At the beginning I think I was a little guilty about today's adventure, but I think I am O.K. with it now. They headed back to their table and they let their escorts take them by their hand and went to their respective rooms. When Cheryl entered the room, her escort asked, you don't really want a drink, do you? Cheryl merely shook her head 'no'. He took her in his arms, and held her close, nuzzling her neck. She smelled his manly smell. He didn't smell of Taboo. He had no scent of any kind from a bottle, but she smelled his masculinity, and it began to turn her on. He gently undressed her, and she did not resist. At the same time he was fondling her breasts, telling her how beautiful she was, and how gentle he would be with her. When at last he removed her bra and panties and she was completely naked, but at the same time sexually aroused as she never thought she could be, he lifted her up like a baby and placed her between the sheets of the bed. In no time he got out of his clothes and threw them on a stuffed chair and climbed into bed alongside of Cheryl who was waiting for him. It wasn't true. Cheryl was not barren. She was aroused sexually for the first time in her life. And she had her first orgasm. When she came she began to scream and claw at him. He had to gently put his hand over her mouth to stifle her screaming and not have security knocking at the door. It took her ten minutes to wind down. He was gentle and held her in his arms as they both lay quietly, cuddling. Cheryl found her fingers twirling his chest hair, and reveling in the afterglow. Forty five minutes later they did it again. This time it was slower, but even more satisfying. Cheryl found herself having an orgasm for the second time in her life and only within forty five minutes of one another. He lay next to her and petted her and she was most comfortable in the arms of this complete stranger. She read about these situations in the romance novels but never expected that it would happen to her. It was now 10:30 and he asked her if she would like some champagne, a bottle of which he happened to have in the room's little refrigerator. He opened the bottle, poured each of them a glass and clinked the glasses in a toast. Cheryl hadn't felt this completeness in a long, long time. They exchanged cell phone numbers and promised to meet again when he came into town. He promised to call her a few days before he arrived so as to give her a heads up as to time. Cheryl told him that whenever he called, she would be ready. She knew it was time to get dressed, but didn't want to leave his side and his tenderness. But she reluctantly got out of bed, took a shower, and was surprised when he came into the shower with her. The soaped each other kissed and fondled and giggled like teenagers. For his part he said he had a wonderful experience as well. Cheryl was dressed by 11:30 and her escort had on his shirt and pants when Jean gently tapped on the door. Cheryl opened the door and told Jean to wait a moment, and she went back and warmly kissed him, and thanking him for a wonderful time. She knew she should feel like a whore, but she did not. She was so happy to have had a real sexual experience for the very first time in her life. Oh, she had so much to tell Jean on the way home. Jean giggled with laughter when she heard how Dan (Dan was his name) had to stifle her so that they don't draw attention. They got home a little after midnight and found their spouses sitting on the living room sofa, quite close to one another, their bodies touching and chatting with one another intently. So intently that they did not hear the girls enter the room. Both Cheryl and Jean were pleased that the 'girls' apparently bonded. Cheryl was also quite surprised when, without any hesitation or embarrassment, they kissed one another good by. If Cheryl had any guilt about her actions that night, it was dispelled when she saw Amy kiss Carol. Cheryl was most anxious to hear about their day, but tomorrow being a work day for Cheryl it would have to wait until she got home. CHAPTER FOUR CAROL AND AMY'S DAY TOGETHER When their wives drove off, Carol said, "Well Amy. It is Amy, isn't it?" "Yes, I am Amy...sometimes." "You are going to be Amy today, aren't you?" "I guess so." Carol sensing Amy's hesitancy did not want to press too soon, and said, "Well, let's get started. Why don't you show me what clothes you have?" Amy went to the attic, retrieved her suitcase and brought it to her bedroom where Carol was waiting. Carol took out the garments, looked at the cosmetics and wig and even the shoes. "These are all wrong for you. You realize that you are too big and male looking to ever pass as a woman, but I believe I can do a lot for you to make you better than you are. Are you willing to put yourself in my hands today, and I will show you what I can do." And without hesitation, Amy agreed. "First we have to get rid of that ugly body hair. You will love the feel of your clothes over a hairless body. It is so much more sensual. No more showers for you dear, soaking, scented bubble baths are what you need. I will get your tub ready for you and we will begin, O.K?" Carol was so forceful, and without realizing it Amy was becoming more like a sub with each passing minute, all Amy could do was to say,"Yes." When the tub was filled with hot, bubbly bathed water, Carol told Amy to get undressed. Amy asked if she could undress by herself,alone, and Carol told her that girls always undressed in full view of other girls, and that Amy would have to get used to it. Reluctantly at first, Amy started to undress, but was doing it so slowly that Carol stepped in and assisted. Amy felt strange being naked in front of Carol, even though he now looked at Carol as pure female, but nevertheless, stepped into the hot tub when Carol told her to. Carol began to wash her with a soapy wash rag. Then took a razor from the medicine chest, inserted a new blade and began to soap areas of Amy's body. When lathered, Carol shaved Amy's body hair, one section at a time, rinsing the razor from the hair in a pan of water on the lip of the tub. Not to do so would cause the hair to clog the drain and they would probably have to call a plumber to free the drain from so much body hair. This way it kept the bath water relatively free of hair. Some hair did get into the tub and most floated to the top, and from time to time, Carol skimmed the hair and deposited it in the bowl. It took an hour before Amy was free of hair. She was directed to get out of the tub and Carol wrapped her in a bath towel, showing her how to pat herself dry, and not rub herself dry as before. Then she had Amy stand naked in the center of the bathroom floor while she applied body oil to his entire body. "Soap is hard on the skin. Putting oil or lotion on after you bathe will keep your skin nice and soft. You want it nice and soft, don't you Amy?" And Amy nodded. When Carol was applying the oil to Amy's genitals, Amy reacted with his penis getting erect, and Carol cautioned with a slap on it, which caused it to go down, and with that they both giggled. "Girls, don't need that thing. Especially not hard. That is not for you anymore, is it Amy?" Amy didn't know how to respond, he didn't masturbate often anymore but when he did, he still enjoyed it. It was the only sexual release he had. But he said, "I guess so." "You will see in time how unimportant that part of it will be. You have so much to learn. I too was just like you in the beginning. But if this is what you want, if this is what you are, you have a wonderful new adventure ahead of you. I will be happy to lead you to it." Carol had him slip into a nylon dressing gown, and Carol explained. Since I started I was the same size as you. I lost a lot of weight, but I brought some of my stuff from when I was your size for you to try. Ready?" Carol took Amy by the hand and led her from the bathroom to the bedroom and sat Amy down on the side of the bed. She handed Amy a pair of nylon panties, which Amy put on. Amy wore panties before, but mostly cotton ones, and the feeling of the nylon over her hairless skin was sensual, and her penis began to stiffen again. Carol, ever watchful, gave it a hard slap, and it went right down. Carol held out the bra, and Amy slipped his arms into them, as Carol snapped the hooks at the back. "You will learn to do this by yourself, but we don't have the time today for all I want to do, so I will help you get dressed. The bra was a little snug, but Amy was pleased when Carol inserted a pair of gelatin breast forms into the pockets and filled out the bra. He was handed a white nylon blouse which he buttoned. It was only the first button he had a problem with as it was on the other side of where the buttons were on her male shirts. But realizing what it was, the rest of the buttons went easy. Carol held out a dirndl skirt for her to slip into, and it happened to fit perfectly. It was a little short on Amy as Carol was about three or four inches shorter, but it still came down to just above her knees, which was the proper style in today's fashions. Carol showed Amy how to open and slip into the nylon thigh highs, and then brought out some shoes, which didn't fit at all. Much too small. "Do you have any shoes you can wear?" Without saying anything Amy reached into the bottom of her suitcase which was opened and laying on the bed and pulled out a pair of women's shoes in a size thirteen which while not especially pretty ones, did fit. There would be no way that Amy could ever wear Carol's size tens. Carol then had Amy stand, and twirl once or twice, and said it was a good start. "Now for the makeup. Makeup is so important. If you can get it right it hides so much. You will not believe the difference makeup makes when applied correctly." All Amy could do was to nod. All of this was coming so fast. Carol sat Amy down at the vanity and began applying the makeup that she had brought with her, ignoring the stuff that Amy owned. She told Amy that it was getting to be lunch time and that time was running away, so she would apply the makeup for now and then after lunch they would come back to it for a learning session. After the makeup was on Carol placed Amy's wig on her head and said out loud, "Oh no. This will never do. Too much hair, and it isn't you at all. You will have to go shopping...on the internet of course. With that Carol reached into her bag and brought out a cloth turban which fit closely over Amy's head nd covered her ears, and looked quite feminine. Certainly better than that ugly wig. They went downstairs and Amy made lunch. She opened up a can of Campbell's chicken noodle soup, that the label touted only had 100 calories. Then Amy made grilled cheese sandwiches served with potato chips. Carol said nothing about the menu and they sat down to eat, each lost in their own thoughts. After lunch Carol suggested that Amy change the way she prepared her meals. She has to be conscious of calories. Regardless of what the experts said, it all boils down to calories. The fewer calories you take in, the more weight you will lose. And if you want to look more feminine, the smaller you become through weight loss the better you will look. Not only that, but you will feel better, too. Get yourself a good cookbook. Remember, fats are out, except a little olive oil for frying, potatoes are out, bread is out. Butter and cheese are out. I would recommend taking some vitamin supplements to give your body some of the nutrients that you will not be getting by giving up some of these foods. You will see your male muscle mass decline by eating red meat only once in a great while. Fish and chicken are best. And portion control. Leave the table a little hungry. And need I say, all desserts are out." Amy was listening intently and hoping that she would remember all of these instructions. She now realized that a door was opened and she had to walk through it. Just like Jean warned. Each time one went to the next level. They washed and dried the dishes together, put them away and went back upstairs. Carol showed Amy how to remove the makeup, but not before Amy admired the way she looked. She certainly was a long way from looking like a real female, but she looked 100% better than when she first did it herself. Carol took her time re- applying Amy's makeup explaining what she was doing and how it was to be done. She was taught the difference between makeup for daytime and makeup for evening wear, when artificial light changed the look. And so the day passed. Carol told Amy of how she got to where she now was, and where she hoped to go from here. She cautioned Amy not to get her hopes up too high because she didn't think she could ever pass as a woman, but that doesn't mean that you can't feel like a woman and be as womanly as one can possibly be. In the afternoon they spent hours on the internet, first creating a list of stuff that Amy needed to purchase, and then, on the many web sites that each one knew. Each furnished the other with a few sites that were new to them, and they spent an enjoyable afternoon, sitting together at the computer, their legs and thighs touching. Soon it was time to prepare dinner, and this time Amy was cognizant of what was to be her new diet. She made a nice salad, and dressed it with a small amount of oil and vinegar instead of the heavy caloried bottle dressings that were in the fridge. She grilled chicken breasts and served them on a bed of steamed rice and steamed broccoli, just as she had when she was at Carol and Jean's house last week. Carol said it was O.K. to have a glass of white wine with dinner but to hold it to one glass. Lord. Was it only a week ago? So much has happened. After Carol told Amy her story to this time, Amy then told her story. She realized from the beginning that there was something different about her. She knew from the stories that her then male friends told about how they enjoyed 'fucking' and that while she and Cheryl did it, he never felt what he heard his friends say they felt. He often felt it was his obligation as a husband to perform for his wife from time to time, and not because he really was enjoying it so much. He did ejaculate at those times, but he had to admit that he had a better time when he masturbated thinking of his fantasies. And that also gave him some guilt. But now that everything is out in the open, even if she isn't sure where Cheryl and her will wind up with all this, especially when hearing of Carol and Jean planning to divorce but remaining as girl friends, Amy was conflicted. But Amy was getting to be quite comfortable with Carol. They got along well together and Amy tried to be an observant pupil. After dinner, Amy slipped into a nylon dressing gown and velvet slippers that Carol brought. Amy removed her makeup and nail polish, except for some lipstick. They sat on the family room sofa, and tried to watch a little TV, but sitting so close to one another, they found each other to be more interesting than what was on the tube. They sat there holding hands and talking about different things, such as where to shop, (the internet was best. Use regular stores and stay away from those sites advertising clothes for TV's. They were not only overpriced but most likely sold your name to others. Suddenly, Carol asked, "Have you ever been kissed by a man?" Amy's answer was immediate and firm, "Oh, no, I could never do that. I am only oriented toward women. I am straight, even though I want to look and act like a woman, at least some of the time." "I promise you, Amy. It will come to pass. I started out just like you. And while I have not dated a man, I often wonder how nice that would be if I did. And then I never thought I would consider taking hormones, and after hormones, what? I don't fancy it now, but I now realize that it is possible that I would consider final surgery, if I could afford it. And if I become a woman, what then? What does a woman want? To be with a man, of course. I know that in this state people of the same sex can now legally marry, but is this what I want? Is it enough to be this much of a woman and not go all the way? A year ago, I would have thought what I am saying was not possible, but here I am saying it. I love Jean, but not as my wife. I want to be a wife, but not with Jean. I want to be a real wife. At this time I don't know if it will ever happen, but that is where I am going. You will see. Every step you take will take you closer to where I am right now. Soon you will want to wear clothes all the time. To be Amy full time, even though you have to pretend to be, what was your name before, Kevin? Yes. Kevin. You will be Kevin on the outside and inside the house you will only want to be Amy. I know it. It is the same as what happened to me. And if you were honest with yourself you will admit it too. Maybe not yet, but wait, you will. So back to my question. Will you kiss me? After all, I still have a penis, so I guess that makes me a male." "Yes, Carol, I can kiss you. Because I don't see you as a man, but as a woman. And a nice woman too. I not only like the way you present yourself as a female, but how you are as a woman, a woman friend. I was hesitant at first about having this what the girls called a play date, but now I am so happy to have found you in my life. I know that we are going to become really great friends. And I really need a friend. I don't know where Cheryl and I are headed, and I need you to be my friend." And with that Amy put her lips to Carol's and they kissed gently. At first. Then they liked it and some more gentle kisses. Carol started it by slipping her tongue into Amy's mouth, and Amy grabbed it and held it and sucked on it. They soon became passionate in their kisses and began to nibble on each other's ears, and rub their hairless chests, and gently stroke each other inside of their thighs. They felt so hot, but strangely neither one's penis got an erection. They didn't cum, but when they were tired of this foreplay, they felt very satisfied. They sat quietly, having nothing more to say, holding hands and sitting as close together as they could. And this is how Cheryl and Jean found them when they arrived home. Amy was still in her gown and slippers and made no excuse for it when she got up to greet her spouse. The one immediate thought that Cheryl had was that Kevin always insisted that he was 'straight' even though he loved to dress and act as a female. And here she finds him kissing and fondling another man, even if that man looks and acts like a true female. "Oh, my," Cheryl said. "You look quite different Amy. Much, much better. I like it. Don't you like it Jean?" And Jean admitted that there was a big improvement. Amy suddenly realized that Jean did not look at him with disgust and that he entered another door. Just like Carol said she would. As for Cheryl, she reasoned that she had her jollies that night, why not let Amy have his? Another step through another door. But that night Jean spent from her sexual activity with Dan, slept soundly, with a smile on her face. In the morning, Cheryl left for the hospital before Kevin woke and was busy as usual until her lunch break. She called Jean and asked if she would like to again go out the coming Saturday. She would have to work, but she could take a change of clothes with her, shower at the hospital and leave from the hospital. She works until three P.M. and it would take about forty five minutes to get ready for the evening and she could meet Jean at the hotel bar at five. Jean laughed and said, "You really got it bad, don't you?" And Cheryl replied, "When I didn't know about it , it didn't matter. But now that I know what I have been missing, I need it badly. Will you come with me? I would feel like a whore if I went by myself." And Jean said, "Sure. Why not? But I won't be able to get there until after five. Don't go into the bar by yourself. Wait for me in the lobby of the hotel." Tuesday would normally be one of Cheryl's day's off but she had to work that day in return for the girl she switched with. She really didn't mind. Monday night she heard more than she cared to hear from 'Amy' as to his day with Carol. She told