My Wonderful Obsession 46 free porn video

My Wonderful Obsession Part 46: The Letter If there's one sure-fire way to make your co-workers insanely jealous, it's hanging an eight-by-ten shot of your boyfriend, who just happens to look just like a famous, handsome celebrity movie star, in plain sight in your cubicle. Oh yeah - there's another, even better way: having a big bouquet of flowers from the same hunky guy delivered right to your desk! Predictably, the first thing the other girls think about is how long it's been since the last time THEY got flowers - if ever - let alone receiving them at work for all to see! Okay, so I'll admit I DID feel a bit smug and self-important with those beautiful blooms decorating my cube for the next week or so, a constant reminder to the other females in the office that, even if I wasn't their favorite office girl, I was very special to someone. Speaking of MY special someone, he was as good as his word, calling or emailing almost every evening. At work the next day, Annalise would pump me for all the latest updates and then, with a sigh, tell me how lucky I was to have such a committed and attentive boyfriend - and such a good-looking one too. She said she'd dated a couple of guys who were decent enough, but they weren't too interested in a lasting, committed relationship with her. And she mentioned how hard it was to find guys who were tall enough, which made me feel a bit guilty for hogging a man who was over six feet, when five-foot-nine-or-ten would've done the job for me. But I got what she was saying - it feels 'right' when you're a bit shorter than your man. Whatever - working downtown was simply the BEST!! I was settling really well into my new job, and with only a week or so under my belt I knew this was much more up my alley than restaurant work. It wasn't that the men in the office seemed to value me for more than just my boobs and ass, or that I was meeting and dealing with a lot of high-class clients. It was more than that - for the first time I began to feel there was a place in society, and a real career, for a young woman named Sandra Johnson. And there was absolutely nothing better than being able to express the real me with fashionable clothes. It felt like this was the real me - who I was meant to be. I paid even more attention to everything from store flyers to fashion magazines to all the other women I'd encounter from the time I left the house till I returned. And I began to develop my very own style of 'dressing for success.' But I'd be lying if I told you my style preferences were about suiting myself. No, I actually cared a great deal about how other women saw me. AND men, but not all men - just the really special ones, like Rob. Every time I contemplated how an outfit might look on me, I tried to see it - and me - through the eyes of the man I loved, and I wouldn't lay down my credit card unless I was certain it would make me more attractive to him. If you said I craved his attention and his compliments, you'd be a hundred percent right. ***** I tried explaining this to Kath one evening while we were watching a movie on video at her place. Her folks had rented 'West Side Story,' a musical from the early sixties starring Natalie Wood. Mr. and Mrs. Thomas liked Broadway shows, and this one they'd seen in New York before they had their daughter. I'd watched it on TV with Mom when I was still in high school, and just loved it (but not the ending!). As I'm sure you know, the show is simply packed with great songs, the kind that stick in your head for ages, and the one that stuck with me the most was 'I Feel Pretty.' Each morning when I stepped off the bus downtown for the short walk to work, that song would fill my head. I really did feel wonderful wearing those smart, dressy skirt-and-jacket outfits, with my hair and makeup done just right for being the 'face of the firm,' as Leah Sandborn had put it, and listening to the clack- clack of my high heels on the sidewalk. There was never a shortage of other office girls like me on the street, but as the song played in my head I felt like the most beautiful one. Why? 'Cause I was in love with a wonderful, wonderful guy! But back to Kath. Whenever we watched a musical together we always sang along with the big songs, and this time was no different. But when we came to 'I Feel Pretty,' she stopped partway through and let me finish it solo, fixing me with a suspicious stare. "You sing that like you really believe it," she stated when the song was over. "Well, I just happen to relate, that's all." She hit the pause button. "That's becoming pretty obvious. I've never seen you so ... so over-the-top about anything before. Like, this Rob guy must really be turning your crank." That made me giggle. "You could put it that way, I guess." "And the way you look these days - it's like you're a totally different person. Mom says when she watches you head off to work she thinks you look like a catalog model, you look so put together." "She's still spying on me?" I giggled, thinking 'What a nice thing for her to say.' "Well, I just want to look as good as I can ... I've always been like that, you know?" "Don't I know it ..." "Kath, it's me - it's who I am. And Rob loves me like this too. So I have to look my best, for me, but for him too. Like, when I get dressed up for work I imagine he's checking me out head to foot and saying nice things, and it makes me feel so damn pretty. I just love the feeling." Kath's suspicious expression hadn't changed much. "Well good for you, Sandy. I can't say I'VE ever had that feeling ..." "Yes you have, you big liar. When we went on that first double-date with Ben and Mark, and I put you in that cute top and blue skirt? You told me you got it then. And how about the senior prom?" Her eyes glazed over for a moment. "Hmm ... okay, you win. I remember the feeling - it WAS nice. But the difference is, I can take it or leave it. Like, you LIVE for it." ***** Kath's 19th birthday was coming up later that month, and she phoned me one night, all excited, to say her parents were taking her to New York to see 'Kiss Me Kate' on Broadway. I was SO jealous! I'd always dreamed of seeing the Big Apple and take in all the sights, like Central Park and the Empire State Building, and - of course - seeing a Broadway show, or two, or three. But how amazing to see 'Kiss Me Kate,' the show we'd both done in high school. "So this is payback for me going to Colorado," I stated, only half in jest. Her reply was a bit cryptic: "Naw, I forgave you for that." "You did? So does that mean I can come?" Now that was totally in jest, but this time her reply knocked me over. "Sure, if you want to." "Kath, it's not nice to kid about something like this. You know I'd kill to go." "I know - that's why I asked my folks if you could. And they said yes, as long as you can get the time off - and you gotta buy your own plane ticket. Like, you ARE a working girl now, after all." "Oh my God - are you serious? Really? That would be so awesome! Are you, like, SURE I can go?" Kath said yes, that in truth it was her parents' suggestion. Then she told me the dates. I'd have to take a Friday afternoon off work, but we'd be back home by Sunday evening. The best part was, we'd be sharing a hotel room so her parents could have their own room (apparently that's where the idea to invite me along originated). To say I was thrilled would be a monster understatement! I bought my ticket right away, in case they changed their mind, and counted on having no problem getting the time off, since we never saw clients on Friday afternoons. ***** Kath's actual birth date came and went as we made our preparations for the trip, the idea being we'd do a celebration dinner at a nice restaurant before the show. And that's pretty much how things unfolded - with only a few minor hitches. First, I was late getting away from work, so I barely had time at home to change into something less 'catalog-model' looking, and I had to travel with my office hair, makeup and nails. I hoped my overtly feminine appearance wouldn't put off the Thomases too much. Then, our flight was a couple hours late leaving Cincinnati, so when the taxi finally dropped us at our hotel on West 45th Street in mid- town Manhattan, it was almost eleven. I could tell Mr. Thomas was antsy that our rooms might have been given away, but no, our reservation was intact - well, mostly. This was the last hitch - the front desk clerk informed Mr. Thomas that both rooms had king beds, instead of the double room he'd booked for Kath and me - and there were no others available. He began getting huffy with the poor girl, but Mrs. Thomas intervened and told him it'd be okay. She looked at the two of us girls and we just shrugged - like, whatever. But I did feel a bit awkward! We'd never shared a bed before, for good reason. When we entered our room, Kath and I first checked out the view of the nearby buildings, then she flopped down on the huge bed and let out a big laugh. "What's so funny?" I prodded as I began unpacking my bag into the dresser. "THIS," she answered, stabbing a finger into the bedspread. "Can you imagine them letting us sleep in the same bed, like, even a year ago?" I laughed too. "NOT! They wouldn't have let us share the same ROOM." "I guess things really HAVE changed." "Just ever so slightly ..." "Oh yeah, you just slightly had your thingy cut off. Now you can't fuck their little girl anymore, can you?" she teased. "Kath, if I'd wanted to fuck you I could've done it a hundred times before ..." "Oh really?" Kath giggled loudly. "So why didn't you?" "Oh, I dunno, 'cause you would've beaten me to a pulp?" She laughed, grabbing a pillow and raising it above her head. "No, but I might've whacked you with a pillow - like this!" I snatched another and began fighting back, and we chased each other around the room, laughing hysterically, and trying to land as many good solid hits on each other as we could. Then we collapsed on the bed exhausted. But Kath wasn't done yet - she jumped on me and started tickling me all over. "Stop it, stop it! I can't stand it!" I screamed, trying desperately to escape. But that just made her tickle me all the more. She finally let me go when I squealed "Uncle, uncle!!!" "Well, you had your big chance and you never even tried," she smirked. "Too late now - you'll never know how hot it could've been with me ..." "I know, such a shame ... that's what I get for trying to be considerate to Ben ..." "What's Ben got to do with it?" "I didn't wanna make him look bad!" That made her shriek with pure mirth. "Sandy Johnson, you are priceless! So now you're, what, the world's greatest lover?" "Not anymore, silly. But you'll never know what it's like with me either ... will you?" Kath lay on her back and became quiet. "Hmm ... that IS kinda sad." "It IS ... kind of. Well, anyway, at least we get to sleep together, even if we won't be SLEEPING together ..." "That's only 'cause my folks have decided you're a girl after all, and they're cool with how you supposedly got this way." "Supposedly got this way? What d'you mean?" "Well, Mom told me she had this nice long chat with your mom, and she found out about your 'hormonal imbalance' or something like that. That you were going to grow up, like, with boobs and everything, no matter what. So what's with all the BS?" "My Mom said that? Wow - we talked about that kind of thing, like, kind of fibbing? So folks wouldn't think I was such a mental case? I didn't know she'd go ahead and start telling people ..." "It's not such a bad story, Sandy. Kinda believable, even if it is total BS. But like, I would've just stuck with the truth - why shouldn't you be able to decide who you wanna be, then go ahead and BE that person?" "'Cause a lot of people couldn't handle it, that's why. Like Mark's folks, for instance? Yours too." She shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, I'm with you. At least now they're okay with us being best friends again. It was pretty touchy for a while there." "And they treat me a lot better now ... especially your dad." "Dad? Oh, he's on good behavior now. I dunno what happened, but he's been nicer to everybody, even Ben. Well, maybe not that front desk clerk! But I don't feel like I need to move out anymore." "Oh Kath, that's wonderful. I'm so happy for you!" I didn't share it with Kath, but the thought that her dad might not being having an affair after all felt like a huge load was lifted off me. Just then the phone rang - it was Mrs. Thomas, more or less ordering us to go straight to bed so we'd be all set for breakfast at eight. "We've got a big day tomorrow," I heard her say. "Well that's no fun," Kath moaned. "I was hoping we could party all night - you know, order room service, maybe go out for a few drinks and dancing ..." "Well we ARE in the city that never sleeps." "Yeah - just my luck to have party-pooper parents!" I don't believe for an instant that either of us was in any shape to party, so it's just as well that we went ahead and changed into nighties, cleaned our faces and did our teeth, and then climbed into that great big bed. "Okay, you're not allowed to cross this line," I warned my friend, drawing an imaginary mark down the middle of the bed with my hand. "I don't trust you anymore." "Oh, I'm like, wounded to the core!" she pouted. "And here I thought you couldn't wait to do some serious spooning with me." "Hah! In your dreams, Kathleen." ***** When I opened my eyes the first thing I saw was a hand dangling near my face, partly obscuring my view of the time on the clock radio. Then I realized it was connected to an arm that was resting on my shoulder, and I became aware of a warm presence snuggled up close to the back of my body. For a brief moment I thought it was Mark, and I actually felt all tingly ... then no, Mark was married, it couldn't be him, it must be Rob. But no tingles - 'cause it didn't look like a man's hand? Of course - it had to be Julia. Except the room was unfamiliar - where was I? Then all of a sudden it all came into focus and I remembered where I was and who I was in bed with. 'Wow,' I thought, 'I sleep with so many people, I lose track. Scary!' I rolled slowly over to face my bed-mate, and saw that her eyes were open. "So much for not crossing the line," I chided her. "Hey, you DID say 'In your dreams,' didn't you? Well, I was dreaming I was cold." "Okay, you're forgiven," I laughed. "Besides, you guys paid for the room, so I guess you can sleep wherever you want." "Good point! I'll be sure to remind you tonight." 'That sounds even scarier,' I thought with a smile. What wasn't so scary was the day Mr. Thomas had planned. After a hearty breakfast at a local diner he liked, we crossed Times Square and progressed on foot down 42nd Street to the Hudson River where we boarded a tour boat for a cruise around the island of Manhattan. That was amazing, and I found the commentary totally fascinating. I mean, who knew my two fave sitcoms, 'Friends' and 'Seinfeld,' were set in New York City? Okay, so I'll admit I'm not as with it as you thought. But seeing other famous landmarks like the Empire State Building, Brooklyn Bridge and Yankee Stadium was SO cool. And yes, I DID know what city THEY were in. Next up was a visit to Central Park. Now THAT was ultra-special. Unlike back home, all the trees were in leaf ... and the flowers! They were everywhere, and so many trees thick with colorful blossoms! SO beautiful, and SO fragrant! Thank God we'd lucked out and got a nice warm day to enjoy it all. We rented bicycles and pedaled all throughout the park, stopping at all the points of interest. Mr. Thomas, who'd been to New York many times on business, enjoyed playing the role of tour guide for the three females in his care. He seemed to know the entire history of the place! As for me, I had no idea it was so big! I'd seen so many movie scenes featuring Central Park, and I'm sure I recognized a lot of the locations. While we were enjoying a lunch of hot dogs from one of the vendors, Mr. Thomas asked if we wanted to see the Museum of Natural History, which was close by. Us three ladies looked at each other and kind of shrugged. I didn't want to give an opinion. Then Kath spoke up and said something totally surprising. "Well, we COULD do that, Dad ... but I know someone who's dying to visit Fifth Avenue ..." And she looked straight at me. I kept my mouth shut! But Mrs. Thomas agreed. "Yes, and I do too! Let's go!" I thought Kath's dad might take issue with the idea, but he said, "Okay, if you insist. We'll do it next time. Is everyone good to walk, or should we take a taxi?" We all agreed we could walk. I certainly didn't mind - my flats were exactly hiking boots, but they were serviceable. But even though Fifth was only a short distance, it was a long way to the shopping district. At last we came to the first of a long row of luxury-brand stores - Gucci, I think - and from there on we saw Louis Vuitton, Tiffany's, Hugo Boss, Prada, Abercrombie & Fitch, Cartier, Armani ... my God, it was like a shoppers' smorgasbord for the ultra-rich. Since that category didn't include us, we had to satisfy ourselves with gawking at the window displays and making all sorts of snide comments about the kind of people who would pay such over-inflated prices for basic items like shoes, watches, and handbags. Though I'll admit if the Thomases weren't with me I'd have gone into every store and probably bought a ton of stuff too. Well, there was ONE store I just HAD to see the inside of - Saks Fifth Avenue. For me, visiting this store was like a pilgrimage to Mecca. My host didn't seem to mind humoring me - Kath began checking out some shoes, and Mrs. Thomas joined me at the dress displays, even going so far as to suggest a few styles she thought I'd look good in. Talk about progress! One very smart-looking blue-and-white dress caught my eye and hers at the same time. It looked absolutely perfect for a slim young professional woman working in an upscale office environment. A sharp- eyed saleslady immediately offered to help me try it on, but I'd already spotted the $495 price tag. Whew! Girls in the Big Apple must make a lot more than I do, I thought. By then the others had joined us and they tried to talk me into trying the dress on anyway, but I declined as gracefully as I could. "Hey, it's Kath's birthday, not mine," I said, thinking how unlikely it was she would want something like THAT for a gift. We resumed our stroll and I found myself staring at the real people on the sidewalks more than the mannequins in the store windows. SO many stylishly dressed women, all in up-to-the-minute designer fashions! We soon came upon a Gap store, and Kath paused to inspect some really chic and pretty summer outfits in their display windows. She surprised me (and her parents too, I'm sure) by asking if we could go in and take a look. "This is my favorite store!" she stated. What had caught her eye was a solid-color one-piece light teal dress with an A-line skirt. It was paired with an undersized cream-colored cardigan, giving it a really trendy, youthful look. Her mom didn't hesitate a second before encouraging Kath to try it on. Of course, I seconded the idea! When my friend emerged from the fitting room I was blown away. "You look SO amazing in that dress!" I exclaimed. Kath's mom was pretty much speechless as she helped her put the cardigan on. "Yes she does look nice," her father agreed. "I think you should get the dress, honey - and the sweater too." Kath stared at her reflection. "Hmm ... well I wouldn't normally, except I'm sure Miss ever-so-posh here has something over-the-top to wear tonight, and I always look like a total frump next to her ..." "No you don't!" I objected. "And I didn't bring anything special - just pair of slacks and a top." It was true - I hadn't felt brave enough to pack any of my pretty skirts or dresses. "When then you better get something nice too! Or you'll be the frump. Hey, that's not such a bad idea ..." But I'd already spotted a dress that looked a lot like the one in Saks, and I figured if Kath was into getting dolled up for the evening, I might get away with it too. Anyway, I rationalized, I could always use another nice outfit for work. But she was the birthday girl, and before I allowed myself to try something on I needed to help her decide on her own dress. "I LOVE it on you," I stated emphatically as I walked around her and positioned her in front of the mirrors. "It's totally your color. And look at this detailing on the straps, and how it's gathered just a little at the waist. That's SO pretty." To her credit, Kath seemed to be taking all this in stride, to her mother's obvious delight. Then I squatted to inspect the hemline. "I like the length too. It's okay to show off your knees - you've got perfect knees for dresses." I saw Kath glance at her mom, who smiled and nodded her approval, and Kath announced, "I like it too. Thanks, everyone." Half an hour later two very excited girls exited the store, each with a new dress and shoes, followed by two contented-looking parents. I don't know what my friend's stuff cost, but I spent just over two hundred. Not bad for Fifth Avenue! I just hoped and prayed I wouldn't feel too awkward in that dress around Kath's parents, who for my entire life had only known me as a boy. Back at the hotel, we started the process of getting ready for our evening out on the town. First came nice long showers. I didn't expect Kath to care if she was naked around me, and that was true, but it still felt weird to be showing off my newly-female body in front of her. But she didn't make a big deal about it. We helped each other put up our hair, and she even let me use some of my makeup, nail polish and jewelry on her. The phone rang as we were putting dresses on, and when Kath picked up I heard Mrs. Thomas's voice say "Hi, are you girls ready yet? Time to go!" They were waiting by the elevator, and when they saw us, or maybe just their daughter, they both grinned. "You look beautiful, dear," said her mom. "Thanks! And thanks again for buying it for me. But what about Sandy? Doesn't she look great?" "Yes, she looks, uh, very nice too." "Thank you," I said. "And you and Mr. Thomas are, like, the perfect couple!" She was wearing black dress slacks with a creamy-white blouse and matching jacket, and he looked dashing in beige pants with a light blue shirt and navy jacket. They both smiled at me. Kath's dad had reserved a table at a fancy rooftop restaurant not far from our hotel, so it was a good thing he'd encouraged his daughter to get the cardigan. Mrs. Thomas also had a cover-up, but not me, so she loaned me an extra shawl she'd brought, in case it cooled off outside. But it turned out to be fine, maybe seventy degrees and no breezes, thankfully. When we arrived at the restaurant, the maitre-d kidded Mr. Thomas about having three lovely ladies all to himself. And then, after we got seated, our waiter immediately got on Mrs. Thomas' good side by congratulating Mr. Thomas on his three beautiful daughters. That got him on my good side too! Happily, my uneasiness about being with Kath's folks, as a girl in a dress with makeup and nail polish, didn't spoil my evening at all. We chatted easily, mostly about Kath's schooling but also my new job. Mrs. Thomas seemed interested in how I was getting along with the other females at work, and how they were treating me. I tried to answer honestly without repeating what Erica had said about women being their own worst enemies sometimes. The topic of boyfriends came up once, but Kath deftly changed the subject and I made a mental note to thank her for saving my butt. Aside from all that, and aside from the fabulous view, we were treated to a scrumptious four-course dinner, including birthday cake with sparklers for the guest of honor. But being a Saturday, the place was super-busy and the service was a tad slow, so we found ourselves pressed for time. Kath's dad finally got the check and paid it, then we quickly made our way along a narrow and dark (but very busy) 45th Street, with Mrs. Thomas constantly reminding her husband there were three ladies with him and maybe he should try running in heels sometime. We arrived at the theater just in time to claim our seats before curtain. Whew, I thought as I took a deep breath and settled in next to Kath - what a day! She pinched my arm as if to agree. As expected, though, the show was simply fantastic. It was ultra- amazing to hear all that great music and those fabulous songs again (which Kath and I knew completely by heart), and seeing the roles and the production numbers performed by real Broadway professionals was nothing short of a revelation. The two of us were constantly nudging each other and grinning like total fools. And I'm sure we were the first to jump up at the end to give the cast a well-deserved standing ovation. Oh my God, I thought - how incredible would it be to be able to perform on Broadway! After the show we stopped at a diner so Kath's parents could grab a decaf coffee. Us two girls preferred herbal tea, and Mr. Thomas ordered one of their 'famous' slices of banana cream pie for all to share. But before I could take a sip I excused myself to visit the restroom - as usual, there had been a long lineup for the ladies' room at the theater, so I had to hold it in. Not fun, and, with my new female plumbing, it was definitely more of a challenge than before. No sooner had I stepped into the single toilet stall, dropped my panties, hiked up my dress and parked my bare bottom on the seat, than I heard the door open and Mrs. Thomas' voice called, "Sandy?" "Yes Ma'am? I'm here ..." My stream of pee was already splashing noisily into the toilet bowl. How embarrassing! "Oh good. I was hoping I could speak with you ... I just wanted to tell you ... well, what I mean to say is that I'm so glad you were able to come. It means the world to Kathleen, to have her best friend share this with her." "Oh, I'm so happy you invited me! This is all so amazing. I'm having a fantastic time." She continued, "And I wanted you to know ... well, that Mr. Thomas and I think you've become a very, um, beautiful young lady? I, uh, suppose I never expected you to turn out like this ... you seemed like such a normal little boy all those years. But I'm relieved, I mean, I'm glad your mother explained about ... your medical issue? It must have been so difficult for you ... when you realized you could never grow up to be a normal ..." "It WAS kind of hard," I interrupted, sensing that this was the correct response. Although how she figured I wasn't having the time of my life was beyond me. "I'm afraid I need to apologize for some of the things we said, and did," she went on. "We thought you might be, you know ... a negative influence on Kathleen. That sounds awful, doesn't it? But it's really been the opposite ... I'm so appreciative of everything you do for her, helping her with her clothes, and makeup. I've tried everything to get her to try looking more like a girl, but she would never let me help ... she only trusts you." "Really? But she can look so amazing, can't she? I'll keep working on her. Anyway, I don't mind at all, Mrs. Thomas. It's a lot of fun helping her experiment with new looks ... she's very pretty." "Well, I think you are too, Sandy. And she's a very lucky young lady to have a ... a special girlfriend like you." Later, back in our room, I recounted to Kath some of what her mom had said while we undressed removed our makeup, and did our teeth. "She still thinks no one would ever, like, CHOOSE to be a female. Like it's some curse." "Well, she's not TOO far off on that," Kath said. "Being a girl has its moments, but the downsides do outweigh the upsides." "Now you're sounding like her. And Julia. I don't understand you genetic girls at all." "That's 'cause you're, like, having a blast right now. You have the knockout looks, the great job, the movie-star boyfriend ... and no responsibilities. And you couldn't get knocked up if your life depended on it." "Well, I can still get assaulted ... so that's ONE big downside." "Yeah, that's a biggie all right. But maybe from now on you won't go out without ME?" "Lesson learned," I said honestly. "Good. It'd be very inconsiderate of you to get chopped into little pieces and leave me to fend for myself." "Yeah, I totally know what you mean - it'd be a crime if you lost the only girlfriend who loves you enough to save you from being a tomboy for the rest of your life." "That's not what I meant, you crazy weirdo!" And with that Kath began whacking me with her pillow again. But she never got to tickle me 'cause I gave as good as I got! That night I didn't bother drawing a line between us. We were so overheated from pillow-fighting that we kept a good distance. At least for a while ... sometime in the wee hours I felt her body snuggling up to mine, and I moved a bit to let her get nice and close. "I love you, Kath," I whispered. "Hmm," was her barely audible response. ***** Then it was back to the routine - not that I was inclined to complain! Like I said before, I absolutely loved my new job. Even the catty women I worked with couldn't change that. At least there was Annalise, who was so nice, and so supportive, that she made up for all the rest! I loved my new friend even more than the new job. We began going out after work for a bite to eat, or to check out the new arrivals at Nordstrom's, or to just sit and chat in Fountain Square. It was super- easy for us to talk about pretty much anything, although as you might expect it was mainly about the other females at work (and some of the males!), our girlfriends and boyfriends, parents, siblings, school, music ... and of course makeup, hair and clothes. In other words, the stuff most girls like to talk about! And by then I'd been immersed in the world of women long enough that I could converse first-person on all those topics. Did I tell you how much I loved being with Annalise? She was kind of tall and angular, yet quite soft and feminine, and her every spoken word and gesture reinforced the impression. Even a little thing, like brushing a stray wisp of hair from her cheek, she did with the grace of a ballerina. Now I'm sure I told you how I tended to emulate other women's styles and behaviors, like my Mom's, and like Erica's? Well, that happened with Annalise too. I often found myself 'observing' my own gestures, almost like an out-of-body kind of thing, and making little corrections and improvements to be more like hers, then practicing over and over again till they became natural reflexes. I was reminded of the modern dance instruction I'd taken with Kath, where they focused on how fluid arm, hand and head movement was such an integral part of the overall motion of the body in conveying the message. Well, the message you got from Annalise's body language was, 'There's not one iota of masculinity in this girl.' In fact, her femininity was so all-encompassing that it seemed unachievable, even for most genetic females, let alone someone born with the Y chromosome, like me. But, like I said, rather than be discouraged about it I consciously worked at becoming as much like Annalise as possible. And the best part was, all I had to do was spend lots of time with her and just let her influence rub off! I discussed this with Erica the next time we did lunch, and told her I thought her mannerisms were quite feminine too. I shouldn't have been surprised by what she said. "Oh Sandra, you're such a darling - you always say the nicest things! But you know, I've been watching women very carefully and emulating them ever since I put on my first skirt - but I had to? How else can I make women believe I'm one of them?" "How 'bout because you're so beautiful?" That made her giggle out loud. "Oh I wish, I wish! But I think beauty is more than what's on the surface, even more than what's inside? You broadcast your 'I'm beautiful' message with every word, every gesture, every expression ..." "Oh, that's SO true! Like, Annalise isn't especially, you know, beautiful? I mean her looks? But she's such a beautiful person ... and the way she talks, and really, her entire body language? It's so totally captivating. Sometimes I wish I was still a guy just so I could, like, date her and make love to her?" "Fine time to think of THAT," Erica laughed, shaking her head. "Sorry, honey, I can't say I know how you feel - I've only ever been attracted to men? But learning to act like a woman has its advantages with them, too, as you've just said. Confession? I think there's nothing more erotic than knowing a man would do anything get you into bed." "Wow - like, that sounds pretty, uh ... dicey? Maybe it's a good thing for Edward you still have your ... you know." She nodded wickedly, and then said, "Oh, I'd never put myself in that kind of position. It'd be even worse if a guy tried to take me against my will and found you-know-what instead of a nice little pussy." Then she put her hand to her mouth. "Oh Sandra, I'm so sorry! I wasn't even thinking! How awful of me ..." I shook my head. "No worries - it's in the past. But I do get what you're saying. I've felt like that too when I'm wearing the right kind of dress, in the right situation - like, when I know they're not jerks, and they're not, like, dirty old men? THAT would be a total turn-off." "Agreed. I do like to flirt, but only in public, with men we both know ... and who know it's all in fun? And I think I know where the line is? That's one advantage of having been ... you know ..." "I DO know," I smiled. "There's a lot of advantages, when it comes to guys. Like, my girlfriends have NO clue." "My thoughts exactly! Not many do. How would they? So now you can see how privileged you and I are. We could have any man we want, and have them eating out of our hand ... well, YOU could. You're still single, and you have the right anatomy now, and with a little more practice ..." My thoughts went immediately to Pam. "So do you think I could get Mark back? Like, if I really worked at being a guy magnet?" "Whoa - it's never a good idea for a girl to chase a married man. Not that you couldn't make him wish ... oh, but there's kids involved? Be smart and keep your distance, honey." A momentary wave of sadness washed over me. But Erica was right - best to concentrate my feminine wow-power on the man in my life at present, the one most likely to change my status from 'single.' ***** But no matter how well I could play the femme fatale there was still one enormous nagging issue, and the nagging was coming from the females I was closest to and trusted the most. The final straw was when my special friend Chelsea met me for a little get-together over dinner (NOT at Milestones, to make sure we could dine without being pestered by our co-workers), and we ended up talking mostly about my relationship with Rob. I tried to explain why I felt it best to keep my secret from him until he was 'ready' to learn about it. "Honey," she said in a serious but caring voice, "y'all are STILL pretending to be somethin' you're not ..." "But this IS who I am," I protested. I couldn't believe Chelsea would say such a thing, after all the changes she'd seen me undergo. "Sandy, ah get what you're sayin', ah really do. But y'all are MORE than the pretty girl sittin' there in front of me - a whole lot more. There's a boy inside you ... there always was an' there always will be. An' you can't keep him bottled up under those nice clothes an' that perfect makeup forever, no matter how hard you try. He'll find some way to come out, honey, trust me on this." This conversation was getting depressing. "So you think I should tell him." "Ah think you should do what you know is right. But if he proposes, an' you accept, y'all owe him the truth, an' you owe it to yourself to be that truthful person. A marriage can't survive if it's built on a lie, Sandy." I could feel my resolve slipping. "I suppose he'd find out sooner or later anyway ..." "Uh-huh ... but that's not the point, honey. You've already dug yourself a hole an' buried yourself up to your neck in it, but you're not in over your head - yet. You can still rescue yourself, an' your relationship with Rob." "But suppose he freaks out and drops me like a hot potato?" "Well honey, ah think y'all know how to pull this off. An' if the man can't handle the truth ... well, here's what ah believe - he just wasn't meant for you, plain and simple. Ah know that sounds a bit harsh, but ah really do believe it. You love 'im to death, ah know, but it's gotta be mutual. You'll find out." "That's what I'm afraid of. He's SO special, Chelsea - I know I'll never find a guy like him again." She just gave me that big-sister smile. "Sandy ... if he goes, well that just means an even better man is waitin' in the wings. An' he'll come from where you least expect it." Well, that certainly didn't go as I hoped, I thought, after Chelsea dropped me back at home. So it was literally every other female (who knew) against me. But don't think Sandra Johnson is dumb enough to ignore that kind of lopsided tally. The thing is, all of them had good, sensible arguments and all I had was my fear of rejection. I said hi and goodnight to Mom all in the same breath, and went straight to my room and thought and thought as I took off my makeup, moisturized, did my teeth and slipped into my nightie, then crawled into bed and turned off the light. Less than a minute later the light was back on, and I found a notepad and started writing Rob a letter ... well at least a first draft of a letter. Then I started a second draft, and a third, and then my brain kicked in and I just jotted down my thoughts, point-form, till I had three or four pages of scrawl in front of me. That I reduced to two pages and then to one page, and finally I carefully wrote out the surviving text on my prettiest writing paper in my most feminine style. I read it over a couple of times, and, more or less satisfied, switched the light off again and fell asleep, feeling a tiny bit more confident that, as Chelsea put it, I might actually pull this off. ***** Then, in mid-May, came the day I was both longing for and dreading. Annalise popped her head into my cubicle a few minutes before five and said (with a wink) there was a "very handsome" man waiting to see me. With my heart pounding I began to gather my things, but then had a change of mind and instead checked my face and fixed my lipstick, then hurried out to reception. There he was, in all his wonderful hunky glory! We embraced warmly (and even kissed!). "Oh, I missed you SO much," I gushed. "Not as much as I missed you," Rob grinned, as he stepped back to look me over. "Well I have to say, office life sure suits you ... you're more beautiful than ever." I know I was positively beaming. I glanced sideways at Annalise and said, "See? He always says the nicest things!" I heard her giggle as I turned and gazed into Rob's impossibly handsome face. "Hmm - you don't look so bad yourself. But where've you been? I thought you were supposed to be at Keystone all this time. You look like you've spent the past month on a beach somewhere!" "Oh, this?" he laughed, pointing at his tanned face. "Spring skiing. But don't ask to look at the rest of me - I'm white as a ghost." Actually, I thought, I couldn't wait to check out ALL the rest of him. At that moment I felt SO attracted to that guy, and couldn't wait to get him into bed. "Did you check into your hotel yet?" I blurted without even thinking. "Uh, no, not yet - but you can come help me. Are you finished for the day?" "Uh-huh, but I have to grab my purse and shut off my computer. Wanna see my office? I'll show you around ..." Rob just shrugged and let me lead him on a little tour. It was SO perfect - the other girls all recognized him from the photo in my cube, and it was such fun to see their awestruck reactions when I introduced them. I know, I was being really bad - but I felt like a total princess with my handsome prince at my side. Edward came out and greeted Rob with a handshake and said how good it was to see him again, how was the winter in Colorado, and stuff like that. And even my boss Leah Sandborn smiled and greeted him nicely. Then I shut down my computer and slung my purse strap over my shoulder and said goodnight to everyone as we made our way to the elevator. "Have a fun evening!" Annalise called after us. Soon Rob was threading his SUV through the rush-hour traffic. "Are you booked at the Holiday Inn again?" I asked innocently. "Naw - I wanted something a bit more special," he smiled. "But first let's find someplace to get reacquainted. Do you know any nice eateries around here?" "Um, there IS a nice seafood place ..." It was the same restaurant Kath and Ben had gone to on their first date. "Sounds perfect - I've had it up to here with steak and burgers." I gave Rob the directions, and a few minutes later he was opening my door for me. We walked hand-in-hand to the entrance. I was a bit worried 'cause we didn't have a reservation, but it was early and they found us a nice table for two by a window. The late afternoon sun poured through onto my head and shoulders and the extra warmth felt heavenly after a whole day in an air-conditioned office. "Your hair is different," Rob observed. "Very nice." "I'm growing it out," I said, pleased that he noticed. "And I changed the part - more to the side." My hand unconsciously swept a few stray strands from my face. Yes, I loved having my hair longer - it was now down to my collarbone, and that day I'd worn it down, unlike most work days when I wore it up and clipped at the back to look more professional. But I'd also spent some time that morning with my curling iron to give it more shape and volume. Realizing from Rob's comment that I was 'in the spotlight,' I excused myself and spent a few minutes in the ladies' room perfecting my hair and makeup - and adding a few spritzes of Rob's favorite fragrance. We had a very romantic dinner - I had the scallops, as you might have guessed, and shared them with my man, who ordered Maine lobster and shared some with me too. And we had a bottle of Pino Grigio from Italy, which, together with the shellfish, had me over the moon! Our conversation was becoming a bit one-sided - I mean, he'd say something - anything - and I'd giggle and laugh like a demented schoolgirl. Before long Rob took pity on me and paid the check, and I clung to him, still giggling and laughing, as we shuffled back to his car. I'm afraid I wasn't much of a lady on the drive to the hotel, either. My left hand started out on Rob's knee but soon found itself closing in on to his crotch. For an instant I thought it brushed something very hard, but then his hand grabbed mine and held it a safer distance away. "I need to be able to check in, darling," he chuckled. I just giggled out loud. We pulled up in front of what looked like a huge old house overlooking the river, and Rob made me stay put while he fetched his bag from the back. Then he led me along a paved walkway to a grand entrance flanked by stone pillars. The foyer inside was dominated by a huge crystal chandelier and there was ornate woodwork and furnishings everywhere. I thought the place was some rich person's mansion and the man who greeted us must be the butler, but it turned out he was just the front desk clerk, and while the place might have been a mansion once upon a time, now it was a romantic boutique hotel. "You have wonderful taste in hotels," I whispered to Rob as he signed the register. "In women too," he replied with a wink. There was no elevator, so we set off up the curved, carpeted staircase. I was almost out of breath when we reached the third floor, and we found our room at the end of the corridor. "It's the master suite," Rob explained as we entered. The lights had been pre-set for our arrival and everything, including the lofty king-size bed, looked absolutely perfect. "Nothing but the best, right?" I giggled. The scene was so totally reminiscent of when Edward takes Vivian to his swanky top-floor room at the Beverly Wilshire in my all-time-favorite chick flick, 'Pretty Woman.' I guess I wasn't exactly a call girl, though, was I? I mean, it's not like I was expecting money ... Rob gently closed and dead-bolted the door, and took me in his arms. We kissed and kissed and kissed for the longest time, our hands caressing each other softly. We both repeated how much we'd missed each other, and he told me how lovely I was and how my perfume so suited a beautiful girl like me, and I told him how hunky he was and how much I loved him and wanted him. Soon, my blouse was being unbuttoned and his hands were cupping my breasts through my bra. Then he pulled the blouse up and out of my skirt and slipped it off my arms. Only when we embraced again did I feel how hard he was, and it was all I could do to stop my hands from going there. But I was SO enjoying letting him take the lead that I resolved to let it just happen whatever way he wanted it. It was kind of fun trying to guess what Rob would do next - would he unhook my bra or unzip my skirt? I didn't really care, I was so turned on! It ended up being the skirt - that's what I'd have done if I were in his shoes. So there I was, in my matching white eyelet bra and panties, standing tall in my patent-leather high heels. For an awkward instant I felt self-conscious - the lights were still on - but when I saw the look of admiration on Rob's face as he scanned my underwear- clad body, the feeling subsided. Perhaps sensing my unease, Rob went to the window and drew the curtains, kicking off his shoes as he returned to me. We embraced again and French-kissed. With my lofty heels and his lack of shoes, I was only an inch or so shorter, and it was kind of cool being face-to-face! Now his hands were caressing my ass, and moments later they were on my smooth bum skin, drawing me snugly into him. My arms were both around his neck, where I hoped they'd stay out of trouble! Then I felt him fumbling at my back for the bra closure, and right in the middle of a deep kiss I let out a giggle. "What's so amusing?" he breathed. "Don't think you'll find it there ..." His hands immediately came to the front, and a moment later my boobs were released from their lace-trimmed prison. I'd wondered if that push-up bra would give him trouble. "I thought you were such a ladies man!" I teased. "Fooled you, didn't I?" he joked. But I liked the joke. Of course he didn't stop there - next went my panties, though I guess he liked kissing a taller girl, 'cause he made sure my heels stayed on. And we embraced and kissed yet again, and now there was lots more bare skin for his hands to explore. I was getting SO excited! 'Cause I knew exactly where this was going and couldn't wait to be made love to by this incredible man. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer. "So will I ever get to see that white skin, Robert? Or do you have something else to hide?" He pulled back a little and stared into my face. "You really want to see it? It's not a pretty sight ..." "I'm a big girl, I'm sure I can handle it ... if you can take the sight of me, I can take the sight of you." "Yeah, but you're the girl. Girls' bodies are way better looking than guys'." "Try me." It was then I realized I'd never seen Rob fully naked with the lights on. My heart started to pound as he began peeling his clothes off. When he was only wearing his boxers, there was a huge pointy bulge out front. I tried to pull down his shorts but they wouldn't go past the bulge! Luckily Rob helped stretch them out far enough, and then he was free. Now I was REALLY glad to have my heels on - we moved together again and, standing tiptoe, I parted my legs slightly to let his penis pass between them. The thick shaft came to rest firmly against my vulva and I instinctively tightened my muscles to grip it. What an incredible sensation that was - and he felt SO hard! "Now I've got you and I ain't letting go," I whispered as we resumed our passionate kissing. Poor Rob - I could tell how desperate he was to get his big penis where he felt it really belonged. But for some reason I was in a really playful mood, and he wasn't 'getting off' that easy. I was holding him so firmly between my legs that there was no chance of escape! But I could still run my hands all over his strong back and his firm ass, and I took full advantage! His hands were all over me as well. "Your ass has goosebumps," he told me after a particularly long session of French-kissing. "Let's get you under the covers." "Oh mister Hewitt, you're so thoughtful," I teased. "But first I need to, uh, use the bathroom." And with that I let him go and grabbed my purse. In the bathroom I quickly squirted some lube onto two fingers and inserted them - carefully - into my vagina. This was no time to gouge myself with my long nails! Then I quickly wiped my fingers with tissue and flushed it down the toilet. He was standing by the window, peering out towards the river. The bed covers were pulled back and one bedside lamp was on. I snuck up behind him and ran both hands around his waist, then down to his erect penis which I grabbed firmly. His legs almost buckled, and he let out a huge moan! Then he turned and in half a second I was swept up from the floor, cradled in his arms. "You're incredible," he whispered loudly, and our kissing resumed. Somehow our lips stayed locked together as he lowered me onto the bed and laid down alongside me, our arms pulling each other close for maximum skin contact. Thus began a long, sensual series of kisses and caresses and fondles which didn't miss a square inch of skin or strand of hair. I was in such a state of pure rapture that I completely lost track of time, then all of a sudden I felt a familiar pressure at my opening, and then a stretching sensation. And there was that mild panicky feeling, like before, as I realized to my dismay that I still wasn't able to accommodate all of him without pain. But I tried to convince myself that my discomfort was a small price to pay for being able to have real sex with this man. Rob's labored breathing reminded me what I needed to be doing, so I did my best to move my hips in sync with his thrusts, knowing they'd become more determined and forceful as he got closer. I let his tongue probe the depths of my mouth and I moaned and breathed deep like him, letting his tempo govern mine. When I knew he was on the verge of exploding I arched my back as much as his weight would allow, and let out a loud moan, grabbing his butt cheeks and ignoring my painful vagina and pulling him as far into me as I physically could. And at that precise moment his body trembled and went completely rigid, all over, and he let out a gasp so loud I was sure everyone else in the hotel could hear. Then he slowed to a stop, with both his hands grasping my ass firmly and his penis more than filling all the space in me. Where his semen found any room to come out I have no idea! Then he began to mumble, kind of incoherently. I thought he said he'd never come that forcefully or with that much sensation ever before, which of course made me feel as wonderful as it was possible to feel with an aching crotch. And before he could ask, I made sure to tell him it was awesome for me too. We lay like that for the longest time. He began to shrink, which I was looking forward to, but it didn't make much difference to my level of discomfort. But I tried forcing myself, once again, to ignore it, knowing that dwelling on it would take my mind to places it didn't want to go. Like for starters, would I ever be able to have him inside me without the pain? Let alone not being able to experience orgasm with him. Maybe we just need to do it a lot more often, my optimistic side reasoned, or possibly a little 'tweak' was all I needed. Or maybe, countered my pessimistic side, we're just not meant for each other and this is the clincher. What a thoroughly depressing notion, I fretted. My brain was churning as Rob kissed me goodnight at my front door. He was SO loving, and his kisses were SO warm, and SO tender - and he was so damn attractive, I reflected as I climbed the stairs. No wonder girls would kill to hang onto that man. But with all the drama in my love life, and my transition being more like a soap opera, it was becoming harder to convince myself he'd ever settle down with me, even if he WAS Mr. Right in every conceivable way. Well, except for one, but wasn't it really MY fault for not being able to 'accommodate' him properly? I stripped and climbed into the shower, adjusted the temperature to lukewarm and squatted to let a gentle spray of water caress my sore genitals, thinking the whole time about my special man, and I concluded the discomfort was more than worth it. When I was ready for bed I retrieved the 'final' version of my tell-all letter and scribbled a few edits. Then I took another clean sheet of my special writing paper and carefully wrote out the actual letter I would hand him the next evening. I didn't keep a copy, but the letter went something like this: "My dearest darling Robert, This is the hardest thing I've ever had to tell anyone, so I apologize if I sound all messed up, but that's how I'm feeling right now. No, I'm NOT breaking up with you, but you might want to break up with me after you read this. I wouldn't blame you if you did!! But I really hope you don't!!! So I'll try and get right to the point. You see, I haven't been totally honest with you. I'm not really the girl you think I am. Oh, this is SO, SO incredibly hard for me to come out and say!!! The truth is, when I was born ... I was a boy. There, I said it. I am not kidding ... but I SO wish I was!!!!! Maybe you already suspected, I don't know. But I never developed as a boy. As I got older I developed feminine features because of a hormone imbalance, and I really liked being that way, so when I was still in high school I went ahead and started living and dressing like a girl, and I got the operation and today I AM a girl, and I LOVE being a girl and all I want is to be who I am now and never ever look back. I'm sorry if I'm not making much sense. But I love you desperately and I owe it to you to be a thousand percent honest about everything!! There's something else too. I'm not as old as I made you think I was. I'm really 19 ... or that's what I'll be in July. I AM SO SORRY for misleading you. It was totally inexcusable, and I feel absolutely horrible that I did that. But it kind of just happened, and I was hoping you wouldn't mind dating a younger woman!! I love dating an older man!!! And maybe if we stayed together you wouldn't mind the age difference so much? I don't have any more secrets I'm keeping from you. But I guess those ones are bad enough, aren't they? I wouldn't blame you if you hate me for not be upfront with you, but please try to understand. You have made me SO HAPPY, and I know I can make you happy too, in every possible way. I would do anything to have the chance to prove it to you. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE give me that chance. I PROMISE you won't be disappointed. You are such an amazing, fantastic, wonderful man and I'd be the luckiest girl in the whole world if you chose me. I'd want to return the favor a million times over! I guess I could go on and on and on, but then you'd really think I was a total ditz. More than you do already!! Rob, you are the love of my life. I desperately don't want to lose you. Even though I know this terrible secret of mine will probably spell the end for us. But it doesn't have to be that way!! PLEASE think over what I've just told you and don't do anything right away. Let's talk this over when I see you tonight. If you don't show I'll understand!!! But I sincerely hope you will. WITH ALL MY LOVE FOREVER, Your Alexandra XOXOXOXOXO" Well, there you have it. Okay, I admit I wasn't exactly 'a thousand percent honest.' Or I would have 'fessed up about the real reason for my hormonal issues. But a girl can't tell ALL her secrets, can she? ***** Quite fittingly, as it turned out, the following day was unseasonably chilly and I had to wear a spring coat over my skirt-and-jacket office combo. When I got to work, Annalise had to know everything that happened between Rob and me the night before, and for some reason I went ahead and told her. Well, not the part where her friend's vagina couldn't handle a regulation-size penis, but pretty much everything else. I think she lived my whole experience vicariously, the way she seemed to get so into each and every detail. It still amazes how women can be like that, and how much of their private lives they don't mind sharing with each other. I don't know, but somehow talking it through with Annalise made me dread my lunch date with Rob a bit less. We'd agreed to grab something from a street vendor and sit in the square, so I took my coat, which was just as well, 'cause it held the all-important envelope. Now I'll admit I had second, third and fourth thoughts several times over, and my stomach was turned inside out the whole time, but I managed to work up the courage and hand it to him as we arrived back at my building. "What's this all about?" he smiled, then he looked at me suspiciously. "It's not my birthday, and Valentine's was back In February ... so is this my 'Dear John' letter?" "Oh no, no," I replied, feeling more nervous than any time in my life, and wondering if there was some truth in that. "Um ... I just want you to, uh, read it? It's um, kind of important ..." He was still eyeing me in a funny way. "Well that's a relief - 'cause I'm not ready to let you go, Alexandra Johnson. And my family's dying to meet this amazing girl their little boy has fallen head over heels for. So it'd better not be sayonara." "I'm sure no girl has ever said that to you ..." "Well no, come to think of it. So don't be the first, okay?" Not knowing how to respond to that, I just nodded. My eyes were starting to dampen, so I just said I didn't want to be late and gave him a nice passionate kiss, and he said he'd pick me up at home at seven. On the way up the elevator my tears started flowing, and I had to invent a story for Annalise. But I'm sure she didn't believe me, figuring Rob had said something to make me so emotional, guys being guys and all. Back at my desk, all I could think of was how that might be the last kiss Rob and I would ever share. I must have spent the whole afternoon stressing about what was going through his mind after reading the letter, and second-guessing myself about writing it in the first place. But by the time I was on the bus heading home, I'd become kind of fatalistic about the whole thing. I mean, if he still wanted me, our relationship was meant to be, just like Chelsea said. And if he didn't ... well, by the time I was getting ready for our date I'd convinced myself that he'd be willing to overlook the 'small detail' of my sex change and accept me as I am - after all, didn't he tell me I was the exact girl he always wanted? That he'd fallen head over heels for me? And didn't I give him the best damn sex of his whole life? Because I knew what none of the others would ever know, namely the exact right way to treat a man? ***** Now, I always thought May was supposed to be a foretaste of the summer to come. Or maybe it was just me, I don't know, but the temperature outside sure seemed to match the chill I felt inside. On the plus side, I got to wear that beautiful, cozy white sweater-dress I'd bought in Vail, and my trendy calf-height boots as well. And for hair and makeup I went with the dramatic look, hoping for maximum impact in case Rob needed any extra convincing. At five to seven I was ready and standing at the front window scanning the street, half expecting not to see Rob - not that I'd ever blame that man if he stood me up. But his SUV appeared only a minute or two late, and with a feeling of great relief I hurried out the door, forgetting to grab my coat. It wasn't until I was seated that I realized he hadn't got out and opened the door for me as he usually did. Neither of us said a word while Rob steered out of my neighborhood. "Umm ... where do you want to go?" I asked, finally. "I thought we'd just drive around for a while." "Okay." "You look nice this evening." "Thanks. So do you." Nothing more was said for at least five minutes. Then Rob glanced over at me. "I read your letter. I was totally shocked. I couldn't believe it." "Believe what?" "I can't believe you're not a girl." He looked at me again. "I want to hear it straight from you. Are you really a guy? You sure don't look like one, or sound like one. Or feel like one ..." "You should know ... especially after last night." "Exactly. So what IS this? Some crazy idea you had, to scare me off?" Tears were starting to well up in my eyes. "NO, I'd NEVER want to scare you off. I meant it when I said I want to be with you, and make you happy ..." "So are you really a guy, or not?" "No Robert, I'm NOT a guy ... I'm a GIRL. It's like I said in the letter - I was a boy when I was born, but I've been a girl for years and years. And I had an operation to get rid of, you know ... the leftovers." Rob was silent again for a minute, obviously digesting my confession. "So you weren't being honest with me," he said finally. "But I was being honest with you, when I said you were the most beautiful girl I ever met. So I was mistaken. You weren't a girl after all. But how do I know you're being honest with me now? You could be saying what you THINK I want to hear." "I'm being totally honest with you." He just shook his head for a while. "You know, it's pretty ironic." "Ironic? What's ironic?" "I always thought I was good at getting girls, never letting myself get too serious, or fall in love ... and when it finally happens it's not even with a real girl." "I really wanted you to fall in love with me. Like I fell in love with you." He glanced at me again. "Well I did. Head over heels. All the way. I was even ready to propose ..." "You were? Like, with a ring?" "Bought and paid for." Rob turned into a small city park and stopped the car, leaving the engine running. My tears started flowing freely now, and I didn't try stopping them. "You could ... still do it ..." I sobbed. "Believe me, Sandra - or whatever your real name is - I've thought about it, a LOT. I still can't get my head around it, that you're not really a girl. So who would ever think you weren't? I'm so crazy about you that I nearly convinced myself I could go through with it." "You mean, like, to propose? To marry me?" "Yeah, that's what I mean ... but somebody out there knows the truth. And it'd come back to haunt us, for sure." "I wouldn't care, Rob." "But I would. I couldn't stand the idea of people talking behind our backs. And my folks would care, believe me." "Don't tell me - they want grandkids." "Yeah, they do. But they'd feel worse about me marrying someone who's ..." "Who's what?" "Who's ... who's not, you know, the best possible girl ..." "I thought you said I WAS the best." I could sense anger rising in me. "What's changed?" "Isn't that obvious, Sandra? Sure, you're beautiful, and you're smart, and you're sexy, and you know how a guy likes to be treated - you make him feel like a million bucks - but it's not enough if you're not real." "I happen to think I'm no different than a real girl." "But you ARE different. Okay, I'll tell you how you're no different than a real girl. When girls feel like I'm slipping away they start begging me to stay with them. Why do they do that? Don't they know that makes guys lose all respect for them