The Wedding free porn video

The Wedding Nikkie Silk Part One Trust me when I tell you I don't normally check the wedding announcements. I hate weddings. Ever since I was a page boy at my aunt's wedding, when my mother made me wear a pale blue tuxedo. I was six, for God's sake. She said I looked so cute. Aunts and Uncles oohed and aahed at me as I walked down the aisle with the rings on a little satin pillow, but I hated it. You see, what I really wanted to be was one of the bridesmaids in their gorgeous frothy, frilly pink dresses. Even at that tender age I knew that I would rather be a girl than a boy. There I've said it. It has taken me fifteen years, several therapists and a lot of heartache, before I could finally say that without flinching. My early years were spent wondering why girls got all the nice things to wear; dresses, blouses, skirts, pretty shoes and hair ribbons, whilst I was imprisoned in scratchy underpants, trousers and jumpers. When I asked my mother, she laughed and said that it was just the way things were. Back then my name was Samuel, but I always preferred to be called Sammy, and that's the name that stuck. I have two sisters, one four years older than me and the other two years older. All our birthdays fell in the same month of the year, so I swore our parents had a calendar date to have sex every two years. However, when I was eight, our father left us for a woman he met at his bridge club. So, I was surrounded by females from that age onwards. My sisters, of course, enjoyed all their pretty clothes although the younger inevitably had to deal with hand-me-downs from her older sister. How I wished they could have been handed down to me. We weren't poor, but money was tight. At some point my father stopped paying support and my mother had to find a job. Our grandmother helped for a while by sitting with us, but she developed dementia and had to go into a home. Mother was still an attractive woman, and I think dated a few times, but as soon as the men found out about the three children they didn't hang around long. Both my sisters took after our mother and turned out to be very pretty girls. My eldest sister, Caroline, was the prettiest, but Sophie wasn't far behind. Mother used to joke that she had to beat the boys away from them with a stick. She didn't use a big enough stick for Caroline, who got herself pregnant when she was seventeen. Actually, that's a strange phrase; surely nobody gets themselves pregnant. The father, a twenty year old student from Serbia, disappeared immediately and nobody knew where to find him. Anyway, by some freak of genetics, I also have my mother's looks. I was small and slender as a child and everybody said that I would get a growth spurt sometime and would shoot up later on. Well, the promised growth spurt never happened, and I have stayed small and slender ever since. I have the family blonde hair and as a teenager I let it grow long, down to below my shoulders and resisted my mother's pleas to get it cut. I loved my hair, still do, and would sit in front of the mirror styling it into as many feminine styles as I could. There wasn't another boy in our town who knew as much about hair styles as I did. My sister Sophie wanted to be a hairdresser, and she used me as a model, not only eventually cutting my hair, but helping me to style it. She was the one closest to me, and we would sit together and read her magazines and talk about the different looks and what would suit her and me. I asked her recently if she thought it unusual and she said no, it was just me being me. I had also inherited my features from my mother to the extent that I would sometimes mistaken for a girl. In one photograph I have, the three of us look like sisters; the same toothy smile, blonde hair, freckles, and turned-up noses. It is one of my favourite pictures, and for so long I wished it could have been true. All through my teenage years I became convinced that I should have been a girl. I tried to tell my mother, but she yelled at me that I was a boy and that was that. I had to accept that God had made me a boy and the work of God couldn't be changed. It would be blasphemy to challenge the will of God. Oh, yes, about this time she had found God. Not the kind of namby-pamby God who spreads love and understanding and happiness, but an Old Testament God whom you had to kneel before and tremble in awe. So, no help there then. When I persisted she dragged me to see the Minister from her church who tried to cure me by laying on hands. He began by putting one hand on my head and one on my shoulder and wailing about the sins of the flesh and the weakness of the spirit. It began to get strange when the hand on my shoulder dropped to my waist and then onto my leg, all the time giving it big about invoking God to cure me of my base addiction. His hand began to creep further up my leg and his fingers brushed my cock. I jumped, and he took his hands away quickly and glared at me. You must let me do God's business if you wish to be saved, he said. Frankly, I thought it was no business of God to be touching my cock and I told the dirty old goat so. He declared me wicked and a sinner and he would tell my mother that I had tried to seduce him with my sinful ways if I mentioned a word of what had gone on. Knowing my mother would scarcely believe me over the word of God, I never told her anything about it. She kept on trying to cure me, and took me to several so-called therapists, some of whom were pretty bizarre. The more she tried to get more to accept I was a boy, the more I dug my heels in that I wanted to be a girl. I borrowed a few of Sophie's clothes that she didn't use any more and I would dress up in them whenever I could. She later told me that she suspected it, but she felt it was my business not hers. I tried on makeup and pretended to be a girl whenever I could. School became a nightmare for me. I never settled in any one of them and because of my size and my feminine looks I would be constantly bullied, mentally as well as physically. I would inevitably be picked on by boys, and some girls too, for being a fairy or a queer. People told me to fight back, but I wasn't strong or brave, and I would end up yet again on the end of a beating. The teachers were useless; they didn't seem to care and would turn the other way whenever trouble broke out. I drifted into taking drugs to ease the pain and loneliness and eventually got expelled from school for the last time. What saved me, strangely enough, was a new boyfriend of Sophie's. It seems that the females in our family have the worst taste in men possible. Caroline had her baby, a lovely little girl called Naomi, but then she hooked up with a string of losers who got what they wanted from her and then moved on. Sophie, my favourite, fared little better. She seemed to attract what used to be called bad boys. She got beaten up a couple of times, but always found another one who would treat her like dirt. But, one night she came back to the house with a new boyfriend. Marcus was different from all her previous boyfriends for the simple reasons that he was big and black. Our mother had a fit, of course. She wasn't overtly racist, but the thought of her daughter going out with a black boy was enough to send her off to her minister in high dudgeon. For that reason alone I already liked him. He seemed a nice guy, always said Hi to me and was respectful to Sophie as well, which again gave him a high score for me. One evening he came round to meet Sophie, but she had been held up at college. Mother had gone out to the church and Caroline was out somewhere too. I was looking after Naomi, happily gurgling away in her playpen. Marcus asked if he might wait for Sophie indoors, and I said sure, come on in. I had on what I liked to call my lite girl mode; tight jeans, flat ballet pumps, and a crop top that showed plenty of my belly. I had my hair in a girl style ponytail, and I had dared to put on some lip gloss as I thought I would be on my own for this evening. I had a baggy t-shirt ready to slip on if my mother appeared unexpectedly. Sophie had seen me like this before and so had Marcus a couple of times. I made him a coffee, and he sat down with me as I watched Naomi in her playpen. He didn't seem put out by the way I looked and we chatted about this and that. He came across as a nice guy and it was a pleasant change to spend time with someone who listened as much as he talked. He liked music and politics and art, and we talked about bands and how we thought the government was fucking everything up. He asked me my opinion of things, something that didn't happen a lot to me. He listened to what I had to say and didn't tell me I was wrong or stupid. He studied at night school for a Degree in community relations and we discussed how the police could do more to help minorities. Sophie eventually arrived an hour late full of apologies. She had forgotten that there had been a lecture that she had to go to. As they left, Marcus said it had been good talking to me and he hoped we could talk some more soon. Sophie gave me a funny look, and I heard her ask him why did he say that as they walked down the corridor. I heard him laugh and tell her that he thought I was cool and he liked talking to me. Marcus became a regular visitor to the house and even mother began to relent, admitting that he was far nicer than the boys Sophie usually went out with. Caroline was now out nearly every night and paid me a little to babysit Naomi. I didn't mind too much. I didn't have too many friends, and she had become a lovely little girl, peaceful and serene. Where that came from I have no idea, but I adored her. I overheard Sophie tell Marcus that I was more of a mother to Naomi than Caroline would ever be. It made me feel funny inside, but I liked it as well. Marcus and I talked whenever we got the chance, and I began to look forward to his visits. I have to admit that I took a little more care with the way I looked when I knew he would be coming round. Mother spent most of her time at the church these days and it gave me more time to indulge my girl look. I worked in a department store during the day and I could buy clothes and makeup with a staff discount. If everyone went out and left me on my own, I would go all out and wear a dress or a skirt and make myself up. My hair was never a problem as Sophie, doing a beauty course, would get me cuts at a discount at the college. I found I could have a unisex cut which could also be styled in a feminine way. I liked it in a girl type ponytail, high on the back of my head so I could feel the hair flicking around behind me. If I knew Marcus would be coming, I would tone it down, no dresses or skirts but tight trousers and a loose top and some nice makeup. He never seemed to be bothered by how I looked and his visits began to mean a lot to me. He respected what I had to say, even if he didn't always agree. It felt good to have someone who I could talk to without being judged or criticised. However, I was still popping pills at the time and once when Marcus came round waiting for Sophie, I let slip to him that I wanted something to take the edge off. It was the first time I had ever seen him angry. He shouted that simply because someone is black doesn't mean he has to be a drug dealer. I stared at him, totally stunned that I had upset him so badly. I didn't want to lose him as a friend and I apologised to him over and over again that I hadn't meant it like that and that I liked him and I would never think that of him. I started to cry, and he seemed to calm down and put his arm round me and said that he shouldn't have flown off like that. It was not me he was getting at, but the others who assumed every black guy was a thug. It felt strange but nice to have his arm round me as it didn't happen to me that often, or ever really. We heard Sophie come in the front door and Marcus quickly took his arm away and moved to another seat. He asked me if we were cool now, and desperate to keep him as a friend, I said yes. Sophie came in and noticed I was wiping my eyes. She gave Marcus a funny look, but said nothing. She told me the next day that they had a big row because she accused him of upsetting me. He denied it but she said I had been crying. As Marcus didn't say anything, Sophie stormed out, assuming she was right. I told her that she had it completely wrong that it had been my fault and I told her exactly what had happened. She shouted at me for taking pills and then put her arms around me and hugged me as I cried my eyes out on her shoulder. She made up with Marcus and a couple of days later they both sat down with me as I was looking after Naomi that night. Sophie asked me how long had I been taking drugs and I told them both it was none of their business. Marcus asked why I had started and I said again it was none of their business. Marcus began to talk about how drugs are often a reaction to other issues in your life and how you can't get off drugs until you resolve those problems. He didn't shout or lecture me, spoke quietly and calmly, and maybe because I was tired or needed to open up to someone, I told them everything in the end. It all came pouring out, the longing to be a girl, the loneliness, the isolation and the feeling that nobody cared, and that there didn't seem to be a place for me anywhere. I ended up crying by this time and so did Sophie, who came and sat next to me and wrapped her arms around me. She kept saying how sorry she was and she hadn't realised it had all been so bad for me. Marcus stayed quiet for a while and when Sophie and I had cried ourselves out, he asked me in a soft voice if I had ever seen anyone about how I felt, a doctor or a therapist. I shook my head. I couldn't imagine going to see the old fool who was our family doctor about this. To be honest, I couldn't imagine talking to anyone about this. Marcus asked me if I had heard of gender dysphoria and I shook my head again. He said that I wasn't alone and there were now ways to help people like myself who feel trapped inside the wrong body. If I wanted, he could ask some of the people he worked with if they knew a local place that could help. He wouldn't mention any names, merely see if he could find someone I could talk to. I nodded, thinking it would all come to nothing, but at least someone was listening to me. A few evenings later I was at home, and as everyone else had gone out, I was in full femme mode; mini skirt, tight top, heels, makeup, and my hair in a messy bun which I had just learnt how to do. I heard a knock on the front door and I froze. I had always feared this moment; me on my own in full girl gear and a stranger knocks on the door. I grabbed Naomi, determined to defend her whatever happened. There was another knock and then the letter box rattled, and I heard a voice shouting through it. It was Marcus, shouting at me to let him in before the neighbours called the police. I heaved a sigh of relief and hurried down the hallway, took the chain off the door and let him in. Only then did I remember what I was wearing. I went bright scarlet as he walked in and I wanted to curl up and die. He smiled at me and all he said was that the skirt looked really good on me. I blushed furiously as he walked into the living room and said hi to Naomi, who stuck her arms out to be picked up. Marcus bent down to scoop her up In his arms and she started to giggle as he tickled her. I told him Sophie was out with friends and he said he knew but he wanted to talk to me. He sat down with Naomi on his lap and passed me a piece of paper. He had done some asking around and he'd found two things that I might be interested in. He had to pause as Naomi stuck her fingers in his mouth. He grimaced as he found out she still had some of her dinner on them. I said it was only apple and pear; it was part of his five a day. He laughed and went on. He said he had found an LGBT group that met locally; it provided help and support for all kinds of people. The word was they were a very good group. The second was a place which offered counselling and advice for people with gender dysphoria. I wouldn't have to see my doctor first, the telephone number was there if I wanted to use it. He said he had to go, but he hoped I would follow them both up. I took Naomi from him and promised I would think seriously about it. I said thank you to him; it was one of the nicest things that anyone had ever done for me. On an impulse I stood on tiptoe and kissed him on his cheek. He giggled like a kid and said he was only too pleased to have done something to help. I put Naomi in her playpen and walked him to the door. As he went to open it, he turned and said, that when he had come in tonight, he thought for a moment I was Sophie, and that we could almost be sisters. I blushed once more, and he bent down gave me a kiss on the cheek and disappeared. I didn't know it, but it would be the last time I would see him for five years. Part Two A few days after Marcus left the house, Sophie sat me down and told me she and Marcus had split up, and he wouldn't be coming round any more. I sat there numbly listening to what she said. One of the few people who had ever tried to understand me had gone. Blinded by my anger, I blamed Sophie for sending away my friend. Whatever had happened was her fault, and she had to fix it. She said she couldn't; it was over, and I told her I hated her for it. My only concern was me, me, me. It hurt me so much and I will never forget the pain I felt at what I thought had been Sophie's betrayal. We've made up now, but looking back I was such a selfish little bitch. A few days later I came back from work and found an envelope addressed to me lying on the doormat. It had no stamp so must have been hand delivered. Naomi wanted a cuddle so, with her on my lap I opened the envelope. It turned out to be a handwritten letter from Marcus. For a moment my heart leapt; he was coming back, he and Sophie had made up and he could come and see me. Of course, it didn't say that at all. It said he was sorry he couldn't see me any more. He had enjoyed talking with me and he would miss that. He wanted me to know he would always think of me and he hoped I would follow up the places he had found to help me do what I wanted. I read the letter twice and hugged Naomi so hard she squealed. Tears began to flow, and I sobbed my heart out. Naomi looked up at me with her beautiful big eyes and started to cry as well. That made me stop, and I dried my eyes and hers, folded the letter up and put it in my wallet. I have it in front of me now as I write this. It's been folded and unfolded so many times over the intervening years it's in danger of falling apart. It's with me constantly. It sounds melodramatic, but I think Marcus and Naomi saved my life. When I look back on it, if he had not pointed me to those two places, things may have turned out very differently. I can see now that without the help I got back then, my life was a car wreck waiting to happen. If I hadn't got help and support, I might not have made it. Too many people I knew have crashed and burned along the way before they could achieve their dreams. Naomi's simple and unconditional love helped me realise life is not all about me. She isn't my child, but she gave me a reason to keep going. She kept me steady when I could have cracked wide open. She helped me find the strength to change my life. As I read to Naomi from Cinderella, her favourite story, I swore to myself I would become the girl I wanted to be. I kicked the pills, joined the LGBT group and went to counselling. Attending the group showed me I was not alone, there were many others who felt as I did. I no longer felt on my own, and they showed me there was a place for me. I met people there who remain my closest friends. The counselling provided me with a way to understand what I was going through and gave me a path to follow. I did eventually talk to my doctor who referred me to a specialist who in turn started me on hormones. It wasn't all plain sailing, my mother refused to accept what I wanted to do, but could do little to stop me. She became a sullen reminder of the ignorance and prejudice that still exists, but at least let me stay in the house. What hurt most was that she told people she had two daughters and a son. Sophie was my rock. After we had made up following my outburst about Marcus, she was incredibly supportive, often fighting my corner with our mother. Caroline didn't seem to care so long as I could babysit Naomi for her. Gradually and sometimes painfully it all came together. This isn't an easy path to take, and there were some bad times, but I had begun a journey that I so wanted to finish. It was sometimes two steps forward and one back. I have been beaten up twice, been abused and insulted by ignorant people who don't understand the anguish of someone in my position. I have been called so many names over the years; tranny, faggot, cocksucker, pervert, and a good few more, and trust me they all hurt. I was sometimes tempted to go back to pills, but I stuck it out. I began to live as a woman full time and met some friends who know about me and support me. I even had a couple of boyfriends, but neither of them stayed around for long. Even so, I had lots and lots of sex. In the group I joined sex was a commonplace. It was casual, and it didn't mean much emotionally; it fulfilled a pleasurable need, and that was it. I learnt how to suck a cock and found out I loved to be fucked. I was a natural bottom, and although I tried it a couple of times, I didn't like fucking someone else. I was happy to be the recipient of someone else's cock most of the time. I even did a bit of escort work from time to time. Well, escort work is the fancy name for it; I would suck men's cocks for money and occasionally let someone I liked fuck me. I don't feel guilty about it; it was a part of my life for a while, and it kept the wolf from the door long enough for me to get myself sorted out. I continued working at the department store, made supervisor and then manager of the beauty hall of all places. Thanks to my genes and the hormones I am able to pass without a problem, and people now often mistake Sophie and I for sisters. It's taken five years and my biggest decision remaining is when to go for SRS. I've put it off for a while, and I know I must make my mind up soon. I learnt to live my life as a woman quietly and happily by myself most of the time. Ironically, after Marcus and another abusive relationship, Sophie gave up on men, met a girl in a gay bar and is now happily living with her. They started their own spa business which is doing well and she occasionally gives me a freebie treatment. One day not long ago I was in having a facial when she flopped down on a chair next to me looking upset. I had just had the mask applied, so she waved a newspaper under my nose and showed me a picture of a smiling couple. It took me a few seconds to focus before I felt my heart lurch. One of the people in the picture was Marcus, I would never forget that smile. I looked at Sophie with as puzzled a look as I could manage wearing a facial mask, and she waggled the paper under my nose. Look again, she said. This time I looked at both of the people in the picture. Marcus had his arm round another man, a white, nerdy looking guy with glasses, and my eyes widened and my mouth dropped open as I read the picture caption. 'Mr Marcus Flood has announced that he will be marrying Mr Terence Hancock at the Registrar's Office on 22 June.' I looked back at Sophie, who gently closed my mouth with a finger beneath my chin. Come and see me when you're finished, she said and vanished. My mind was whirling as I sat back and thought about the picture. Sophie had resisted every attempt over the years to get her to tell me what had had happened between her and Marcus. None of my business was her reply every time I asked. For five years she had kept it a secret, and now I could guess only too well what had caused it. I thought hard but I couldn't remember anything that would have made me think Marcus was gay. He was a nice guy who listened and talked to me and had been my friend, was all I could remember. I had to wait for the mask to come off before I could scurry off to Sophie's office. She was sitting in her chair looking out of the window with a glass of wine in her hand. She waved her hand towards the mini fridge where she always kept a couple of bottles. I helped myself to a large glass and came round and knelt beside her. She had a faraway look in her eyes, and I think she had been crying a little. I put my arms around her and she patted me on the back. She said, I'm sorry, Sammy. I looked at her and she blushed. I should have told you sooner, but it was so embarrassing I couldn't tell you. She hugged me and then told me what had happened. She said that everything had been going so well between them. She felt she had found someone she could trust who treated her with respect. She had just come out of an abusive relationship so the fact that he didn't make a lot of demands for sex came as a relief to her. She said he had seemed a bit on edge in the week before he came to see me, but she didn't think too much of it. She paused, and I held her hand as she went on. The day after he had seen me, he asked to see her and told her that he had met someone else. If hit her like a hammer and she went crazy, demanding to know who the girl was. He finally told her that it wasn't a girl, but a man. She thought he was making it up, but he finally convinced her that he always thought he was bi, but he had met this guy and he said it was the real thing. She slapped him and told him to get the fuck away from her. She paused, looked away from me and said, she was so sorry but she also told him to stay away from me. I felt the blood rushing through my ears and I thought I was going to faint. She took a deep breath and said she felt awful, thought it had been for the best. I was so vulnerable at that time, and she feared he would prey on me. She reached out and held my hand. A few years ago I would have thrown a fit and stormed out, but over the past few years Sophie had stood by me and had been my strongest supporter. I think I had grown into a better person too, and I couldn't blame her for something she had done in the heat of anger. I dropped to my knees and hugged her, I told her not to worry, I understood. She cried, I cried, and we drank the rest of the bottle of wine. We hugged and told each other what total shits men were, but, all I could think of was Marcus smiling out from that photograph. I went home and lay down in my room. I needed to keep away from mother, one of her snide remarks would have set me off like a bomb. Naomi knocked on my door and asked if I was alright. Caroline was almost out of control these days and Naomi was staying with mother and I almost as much as with her own mother. I told her to come in and she crawled onto the bed and gave me a cuddle. There is nothing like a cuddle from a child to make you feel better. She was growing fast, bright and funny and never failed to cheer me up. I listened to her read, and we giggled about some of the stupid things the boys got up to at school. With that laser like directness children possess she asked me why I didn't have a boyfriend. I told her that I liked being on my own, and it gave me plenty of time to be with her. She nodded gravely and said she understood and that it was fine with her. I tickled her until she cried out for me to stop and we went to have something to eat. We ate in the same room where Marcus and I had sat the last night I had seen him. I realised he must have waited to break up with Sophie until he had given me the information he had found for me. I couldn't stop thinking about the kiss he had given me on the way out that night. I slept badly, I couldn't settle with the image of Marcus flitting in and out of my dreams. I tried to tell myself that there was nothing to be done. He had made his decision, and that was that. Even so, a small nagging thought began to slip through my mental defences. What if Sophie hadn't told him to stay away from me? What might have happened if he and I had kept in touch or even continued to meet? It was nonsense I told myself, it didn't happen and I should leave well alone. But, but... I finally slept, but something must have been stirring away in my subconscious because I awoke the next morning with a crazy idea in my mind. I would go to the wedding and see what would happen. I told myself I would be going there to celebrate the marriage of a man to whom I owed a big debt. Even if he never knew I was there, my gesture might pay back a tiny part of that debt. I didn't tell anyone else of my plan. It would have upset Sophie, and my mother, well, we hardly spoke anymore. As long as I stayed out of her way I was happy. It was easy to find the date of the ceremony and the Registrar's Office was easy to get to. It was set for a Saturday two weeks away, and I made sure I had the day off by switching a shift, then all I had to do was to choose my outfit. I planned to keep in the background and just watch, but I was determined to look my best. I booked a makeover for the morning which left me plenty of time to get to the Registry Office in time. I had my eye on a lovely two piece linen suit at work matched with a pair of killer heels. Everything was set, and I was anxiously counting the days to the big day. It was late on the Friday evening when Caroline called me in a panic. She had met yet another man who she was sure would be the one for her, definitely a triumph of hope over experience in my opinion, but you had to give her points for persistence. The problem was he wanted to take her out on the Saturday to the races of all places, and she had no one to look after Naomi. Mother was out with the church yet again and Sophie was away for the weekend with her girlfriend. She whined and whined to me over the phone that if I didn't look after Naomi then it would be my fault if she didn't land this guy. I thought she was delusional about men, but there were very few times I could turn down looking after Naomi. It occurred to me there might be a way. I told Caroline I would look after Naomi but only if she could get her here tonight as I had an early start the next day. Caroline was so desperate she agreed and brought Naomi over an hour later. Naomi was excited to spend the night and slept next to me after we had a takeaway dinner. I told her that we would be going on a trip the next day and it was to be a secret that only she and I would share. Early the next morning we set off to the salon where I had my makeover. To keep Naomi happy, I got them to give her a little makeover too, her first, and she loved it. I could tell she was going to be a princess. We stopped at a kids shop and bought her a pretty new dress and shoes. She announced I was definitely her favourite aunt. We went home to get changed and just in time, we jumped into a cab and headed off to the Registry Office. It wasn't a pretty place, and there were two or three wedding groups milling around outside when we got there. I told Naomi an old friend of mine was getting married but we might not be able to meet him. We waited outside as one bride and groom emerged and went on their way. Is that them asked Naomi, and I told her my friend would be next. There was a large group of people, both black and white mingling together so I guessed they would be for Marcus and his husband. A few minutes later, the two of them emerged to loud cheers from the crowd. They embraced and kissed on the steps of the office to even more cheers and whoops. Naomi tugged my hand and said Aunt Sammy, they're boys and they're kissing, I shushed her and told her they loved each other so it was alright, just like Auntie Sophie and her friend. She nodded, happy that it was OK if they loved each other. I watched Marcus smiling and laughing with his arm round Terrance, so I didn't see exactly what happened next. I think Naomi must somehow have recognised Marcus because she slipped her hand from mine and before I could grab her she was running off towards him. Kids can run quickly between and under adults and I couldn't get to her before she reached him. She stood in front of the couple and looked up at them. Marcus looked down, and I heard him say hello, and ask her who she was. Naomi looked back to find me, but couldn't see me and the next thing I heard was her telling him her name was Naomi. He smiled and then I saw a puzzled look slowly form on his face. He looked around and then back down at Naomi, trying to work out why she seemed familiar. It was at that moment that I managed to push to the front of the group just as a small gap opened up, and I hissed at her to come back to me. She turned round, pointed to me and said that's Aunt Sammy. Marcus followed Naomi's pointing finger and saw me. The look on his face was priceless as he recognised me, his mouth opened in surprise and I think he took a step backwards. It was if he had seen a ghost. He whispered something to his husband, took Naomi's hand and led her over to me. I didn't know what to do or say, I had not planned for this. I managed a smile as he stood in front of me, still not quite able to believe what he was seeing. He asked if it was really me. I nodded, and he smiled that killer smile of his and wrapped his arms around me. I saw Terence look over at us with a frown on his face as he talked to someone. Sammy, I am so pleased to see you, I heard him say, you look wonderful, and this is little Naomi. He let me go still smiling and hugged Naomi, who looked embarrassed at the attention she was now receiving. I took her hand back, and he said Sammy, why, how, oh God there are so many questions. I was beginning to tear up and said congratulations, and that he and Terence looked lovely together. He turned round to Terence and waved him over. He said he wanted him to meet Sammy and Naomi, two old friends of his. Terence shook my hand and smiled at Naomi. He said he was pleased to see us and he was glad we could come. Congratulations, I told him, but he looked over my shoulder and replied thank you, but there was someone he must meet and bye. Marcus took my hands and aid that I looked wonderful. He was so pleased to see me and that there were a million questions he wanted to ask me. How did I find out about this? Power of the press, I told him, it was a lovely photograph. He grinned as he said that Terence was lovely wasn't he. He then threw me completely by asking if we could meet up, he wanted to find out all about me. That stopped me in my tracks. I really hadn't thought this through. I hesitated, and he said he would give me his number and if I wanted to chat to give him a call. He grabbed a pen from someone and wrote his number on my hand. The touch of his fingers sent a tremor through me. He had to dash he said, but it had been great to see me. He was being waved at by Terence, and he leant forward and kissed me on the cheek, just as he had five years previously. He walked over to Terence who threw a look in my direction, obviously asking Terence who I was. Naomi and I took a cab back home and on the way I transferred his number to my phone. I had no intention of using it, but it was a connection to him so I didn't want to lose it. Naomi was chatting all the way back, so I didn't have time to think about it all until later. It was only when I was in bed, unable to sleep, that I got to think about what had happened. No harm done by going to the wedding, I thought, I'll go on as before, it won't change anything. As I finally drifted off to sleep all I could think of was that kiss. Part Three Life went back to what passed for normal after my trip to the wedding. Caroline's latest man dumped her when he found out about Naomi, and what worried me was that one of these losers would stick around for a while and become an influence on Naomi. Does that make me a bad sister or a good aunt? Sophie and her partner planned to open a second spa, and out of the blue she asked me if I would be interested in managing it. I was enormously flattered and told her I would, on the condition we offer a service for trans girls as well. She liked the idea as long as we could keep it discreet. She didn't mean it badly, but it's the kind of thinking that drives me crazy. I told her it makes me feel as if we have to be hidden away somewhere. She said that wasn't what she meant, but she would have to talk it over with her partner and let me know. Put it this way, I wouldn't hold my breath. Mother had begun to worry me. She spent more and more time at the church and I became concerned at the amount of influence they had on her. I tried to talk to her but it was like trying to communicate with a pre-programmed robot. A week later Sophie asked to talk to me, so I met her at the spa after work and we sat down with a glass of wine. She had discussed the idea of a service for trans girls with her partner, but they felt it wouldn't work as a shared service with the new spa. I opened my mouth, and she held up her hand for me to shut up. One day she said, I would learn to jump in with a pause. I smiled, but what she said next floored me. They thought it was such a good idea they would be prepared to go into it with me as a stand alone business if I could raise some money to put into it. I was speechless. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought about doing something like this. I asked her if she was serious and said, yes why not? My head was whirling, but I immediately began thinking about what we could offer. Sophie laughed as she watched my face and she said the first thing is to do some research to assess demand, then we would need a build a business plan to see if it would be profitable. My sister the businesswoman who would have guessed? She asked if I would be interested and I squealed and hugged her. She laughed and asked if that was a yes. We drank more wine, and I headed off home with my mind buzzing with ideas. It's strange how life can get complicated very quickly. The day after my conversation with Sophie, I had a call from a headhunter offering me a job at a rival department store with better pay and benefits than my current one. It would be a great opportunity for me, but coming so close on the heels of Sophie's offer, it threw me into a spin. I loved the idea of doing something on my own, but the security of the new job was so tempting. God, I needed someone to help me sort this out. It obviously couldn't be Sophie, Caroline would be worse than useless, and my mother was out of the question. There was one person who I knew who would be great, but I couldn't possibly call Marcus, or could I? It took two days of arguing with myself to decide if I should call him or not. He had given me his number, so he didn't mind if I called. The hesitation was all on my side. Did I want to go there? There was a fierce battle raging between my head and my heart. My head was saying it would be a good idea and my heart was ringing alarm bells. I must have picked up my phone and put it down again twenty times before I summoned up the nerve to dial the number. My heart was pounding as I heard the call connect and then the ringing tone. My courage failed, and I was about to ring off just as he answered. Oh my God, what should I say? My mind went blank, and I heard him say again Marcus Flood, who is this. I finally managed to croak that it was me, Sammy.. He told me to hang on a minute. The line went quiet, and I thought he'd hung up. A few seconds later, he came on again apologising as he had been in a meeting. We chatted a little before he came right out and asked if we could meet as he had to get back to his meeting. I swallowed, then said yes I would like to. We agreed to have a drink the day after next. He seemed happy as he signed off by saying that he couldn't wait to see me again. It was that easy. I hung up, completely unsure of what I had just done. The next two days dragged past. I was tense with excitement and dread at what I was going to do. Half the time, of course, I worried about what to wear. I went through my wardrobe three times, trying on different looks before going back to the black dress I had picked out first. I matched it with black heels, naturally, and a short black leather biker jacket. Chic but classy, I hoped. I immediately changed my mind three times before coming back to it. I got back from work, changed, put my hair into a ponytail and sat on the bed, wondering what the hell I was doing. I took a deep breath, tried to clear my mind and walked out the door before I could stop myself. I arrived early. I am always early; I can't help it, I am terrified of being late for something, so I overcompensate and get there far too early. I grabbed a table as the bar was getting busy and ordered a glass of wine. I was so nervous my hands trembled slightly as I held the glass. I half hoped he wouldn't turn up when I felt the lightest touch on my shoulder and looked up to see him smiling down at me. I stood up, almost knocking over my glass in my nervousness and he kissed me on the cheek. I could smell his cologne, light, fresh and slightly feminine. He looked good, a tight white shirt under a pale blue linen jacket and tight jeans. He ordered a bottle of wine and sat down opposite me. It was so good to see me again, he said. Our wine arrived, and he filled both our glasses so we could say cheers as we clinked glasses. I told him that he and Terence looked so good together. They had met at a party a couple of years earlier and they had decided to get married only a few months ago. They were hoping to adopt a child at some stage as both of them wanted a family. He asked how my family was, and I told him about Caroline and mother, and finally I talked about Sophie. His face dropped when I mentioned her name and he said he had been truly sorry about what had happened back then. He thought he had been bi-sexual, but when he met this boy, he felt he was gay for certain and he couldn't pretend to Sophie any more; it wasn't fair to her. His face was a picture when I told him Sophie was now living with a woman. He didn't know whether to laugh or look serious, and I let him off the hook by laughing at him. I told him it wasn't him, it was the string of bastards she used to hang around with who turned her off men. You were so different from them, in more ways than one, I giggled. He had finished his degree and was working as community liaison for, of all people, the police. I had to laugh at the irony, remembering our conversations back then about how useless the police were. After we talked about everyone else, he asked me how I had got on after he and Sophie split up. I told him that I had gone to the LGBT group and counselling and it had been the saving of me. I owed him a huge debt of gratitude because of what he had done for me. He shook his head and said I owed him nothing that he had only given me the names. It had been me that done the hard graft. I held up my glass and said thank you, anyway. He grinned and clinked his glass against mine. It seemed incredible, but we had finished our bottle already. I looked at the time and we had been talking for well over an hour. Marcus asked if we should share another bottle and I shook my head, maybe a glass, I said. I didn't want to end up drunk tonight of all nights. He went off to order, and I watched him as he walked to the bar. Tall and well built, his black skin glowing under the lights, hair cut close to his scalp, he had almost a dancer's grace in the way he walked. He was the most beautiful man I have ever seen. I smiled as several women followed him with their eyes on his way back, and I felt a thrill knowing they would see him sit down with me. I couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to him. I had shed all my nerves, and it was just like the old days. A laugh was never far away from Marcus and it seemed I was constantly smiling as we talked. He suddenly said that his biggest regret was not being able to see me again after the breakup. Maybe because I had already drunk too much, but without thinking I asked him why. He looked straight at me and said because he had liked coming to see me. A bell started ringing in my mind and I knew I should be careful what I said next. I looked at him over the edge of the glass and said softly I had missed his visits too. They had meant so much to me; it had been hard to take at the time. A silence followed which neither of us wanted to break. He blinked and looked away, and when he looked back, he said that he had been so surprised to see me at the wedding and for a split second he had thought it was Sophie who had turned up. I said that was like the last thing he had said to me before he left the house all those years ago. He nodded, He remembered. He could recall every second of that evening he said, how Naomi had stuck her fingers in his mouth, and how beautiful he thought I had looked. I blushed scarlet at his words, and I felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes. Please don't cry he said, and as he touched my hand, I felt as if I had touched a live wire. Shit, this wasn't going right, I thought. I wiped my eyes and said there was something I needed his advice on. He took his hand away, and I immediately wished he had left it there. I talked about Sophie's offer and the new job and how I couldn't make up my mind which one would be right for me. He sat back and thought for a second or so before asking me what did I want to do. I want to run the trans girl service, I said, but it isn't that easy. Why not? was the instant reply. I'm scared, I said, that's the real reason, scared of swapping security for risk. He grinned at me, like you did when you decided you were really a girl? Not fair, I replied, it's different. Not from where I sit, he countered. You wanted something that you felt was right and you went and did it, very beautifully too. I felt another tingle at his words. He pressed on, do you feel this is the right thing to do? I nodded and said, yes, for dozens of reasons. Well do it, never die wondering what if, he said. Anyway, I said, I don't think it's going to happen because I have no chance of raising the money. Have you tried, he asked, looking thoughtful. No, I said, but who on earth would lend me money for a stupid business idea like this. He said that he, for one, didn't think it was a stupid idea, and that I would never find out if I didn't try to raise the money. Marcus glanced at his watch and said he had to go, Terence would be home soon. He said it in a way which made me think he hadn't told Terence he was meeting me tonight. We walked to the door together where he hugged me and said he hoped he had helped and that we should see each other again soon. He leant down to give me a kiss on the cheek when someone bumped me from behind; I jolted forwards and our lips met. We both pulled back in surprise, Marcus looked at me, turned on his heels and walked away without a word. I stood there, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. What was that all about? Everything had gone well until that moment. I felt I had screwed up somehow, but I didn't have a clue as to how. I called a cab even though I lived only a couple of miles away. I didn't like to walk home on my own, it's too dangerous for a single girl to be out late at night, especially a single trans girl. Too many of us have been attacked for any of us to feel safe on our own. As I walked into the house, my phone beeped. It was a single word text message from Marcus - Sorry. Sorry for what, I thought. The kiss? Or walking away without saying a word? Or meeting me? What the hell did he mean? I was in a foul mood and exploded at my mother when she said something about the way I was dressed. She responded with something about my life being wasted and we had a screaming row. I have to get out of this madhouse, I thought. I slept badly; the anger from the fight with my mother and the effect of meeting Marcus keeping me from sleep. I must have fallen asleep eventually because I woke feeling awful. Dragging myself from my bed I found a text from the headhunter asking for an answer about the job. Taking a couple of painkillers and two cups of black coffee to wake myself up, I went to work. On the bus, I thought about what Marcus had said, take the risk, go for it. All well and good for him to say, he's not taking the risk, I am. I decided to take the new job; it was the sensible decision. I texted the headhunter and confirmed I would take the job. I felt better immediately; it had been the right thing to do. It was a busy day, and I didn't have a chance to look at my phone until my lunch break. I had a message from Sophie saying mother had been complaining to her about me. Did I want her to do anything? Shoot my mother was the first thing which came to mind. There were also three texts from Marcus, asking me to call him. I hesitated with my finger over the call button, what was this about? After last night, did I really want to talk to him again? Of course, I pressed the button, heard the ringing tone, and it went straight to voicemail. I left a message and hung up; sensible me hoping he wouldn't call back, crazy me thinking about the kiss last night. A few minutes later the phone rang and I could see it was Marcus. I accepted the call, and he said he hadn't got much time, but he had found someone who might put up money for my idea. Could we meet tonight to discuss it? Shit, what do I do? It wouldn't affect my decision, but I was intrigued, how had he found someone that quickly. OK, I said, where? He mentioned another bar in town and we agreed to meet at eight. I was OK with this; I had made my decision and surely no harm could come from meeting him. I dressed down this time, a pair of tight jeans which I knew made my bum look good, ankle boots and a man's white shirt under a linen jacket and I left my hair loose. I was there early, you will not be surprised to learn. I bought a bottle this time and Marcus turned up five minutes late, looking a little flustered I thought. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and sat down. I need a drink he said. Tough day? I asked. Yeah, but you don't want to know about it. I did oddly enough, but didn't say anything. So, you found someone with money to throw away? I asked him, thinking a joke would help. He sighed, the joke didn't make him laugh. He said, In my job I get to meet all kinds of people, not just the ones causing trouble, but those who want to help as well. Believe it or not the police are trying to stop hate crimes of all kinds, including against the TG community. First I'd heard of it, I thought, but I kept that to myself. He went on that he had met a guy who wants to help the TG community, but because of his position he wants to keep his name out of it. He's not rich, but has some money to invest if the right opportunity came up. Marcus had thought of him last night when we were talking and called him this morning. He would be interested, but would need to see a plan and profit projections. I sat back, stunned by what Marcus had said. Yes, you're right, I know alarm bells should have been ringing at what he said, but all I could think of was I might be able to set up my trans girl service. Excited by the idea, I asked when could I meet him? Marcus hesitated, before saying that the guy wants to be anonymous, his position meant that it wouldn't be possible for him to be publicly involved. He had given Marcus the authority to negotiate on his behalf up to a certain limit. Did I know how much I needed to put into the business. No, I didn't, I told him. I hadn't got that far, only that I would be going half and half with Sophie. I would need to do some research and put together some projections before knowing how much to put in. Marcus said timing would be no problem, but sooner rather than later would be good. Now I was really fired up, ideas were flooding through my mind and I had forgotten my safety first decision of earlier. We agreed that I would do the work with Sophie and get back to Marcus when I knew what I needed. We clinked glasses and toasted the success of the new business. I couldn't help but wonder who this investor might be. I asked Marcus what the mystery guy wanted from the business and he said a reasonable return on his investment, but more than anything he wanted to help the TG community. I was so excited I couldn't stop babbling about the ideas I had and Marcus laughed at my enthusiasm. I blushed and said that this was important for me I would love for it to work. He smiled and said, he could tell. He put his hand on mine again and that feeling shot through me. I wasn't sure where this was going but I curled my fingers up and around his hand and he didn't take it away. My heart was beating so hard, I thought he might hear it. Everything else faded into the background and all I could see were my fingers around his hand. God, this was wrong. I knew it, but I didn't want it to stop. I slowly brought my eyes up to his, and he was smiling at me, and my heart almost stopped. I need some air, I said and let go of his hand, grabbed my bag and dashed outside. I leant backwards against the wall, sucking in lungfuls of air and trying to stop shaking. Marcus followed me out of the bar and came and stood in front of me. He put his arms around me and hugged me, and I began to calm down a bit. I looked up at him, and he dipped his head slowly and deliberately and kissed me on the lips, this time not by accident. He pressed his lips hard against mine and I began to kiss him back, slowly at first and then harder. My arms went up around his neck and pulled him down onto my lips. He pulled back to look into my eyes,and whispered that he had waited so long to kiss me. Part Four I melted into his embrace as his tongue fought with mine. His hands found my backside, pulling me tighter into him, and I moaned as his hard cock pushed into my groin. My heart raced and my stomach fluttered wildly as we stayed locked together. Breaking the kiss, he tilted my head back and touched my neck with his lips once, and then again, making my knees buckle. His lips, oh so gently brushed mine, and it was if every nerve ending in my body flicked on at once. His scent seemed to fill my nostrils, fueling the desire which was flooding through my body, and I felt my cock begin to tingle and respond as I become more and more excited. He whispered my name as he stroked my neck with his fingers, each delicate touch scalding my skin. From somewhere, I heard a girl giggle, and a man said they should get a room. I froze, I had completely forgotten where we were. I covered my face in Marcus's chest in complete embarrassment as he stroked my hair and said we should probably stop now before we got arrested for a public order offence. I looked up at him, his eyes were shining and my heart lurched as I realised I was falling in love with him. God, what a mess, I thought. I needed time to think, to decide what I wanted. I have to go, I said, I would call him tomorrow, and without another word, I walked away. I looked back, and he was leaning against the wall, his hands covering his face. I spent the journey home in the cab telling myself how stupid I had just been. He's married for fuck's sake, you can't do this. As I approached home, I had a text from him - let me know u got home OK. I texted back - home OK speak tomorrow. I arrived home confused and frustrated by what had happened. Tonight my feelings for Marcus had exploded into the open and left me bewildered and frightened about what we had done. Nobody had ever made me feel like this. When he kissed me I fell apart, my emotions shredded by the touch of his lips and fingers. I lay on my bed, thinking about the way it took only the lightest brush of his lips across mine for me lose my senses. The experience had left me feeling as horny as hell, and I closed my eyes, imaging his fingers stroking my neck and his tongue slipping its way through my lips. I felt his hands outside my shirt rubbing my breasts and setting my nipples on fire. My fingers unbutton my shirt as I imagined Marcus doing the same. I feel his hands slide under my bra and roll his fingers around my aching nipples. I unhook my bra and he blows across my breasts, making me moan as the tension builds and builds. His tongue laps around my nipples and he sucks each one in turn into his hot, wet mouth. I arch my back as he nips a nipple with his teeth and licks his way down my tummy. I feel butterflies in my stomach as his tongue traces its way lower and lower, licking and kissing me until I whimper out loud. I imagine his hands coming up and stroking my breasts as he kisses my belly, my defences overwhelmed by the attacks from his tongue and fingers. He fumbles with his finger as he tries to undo my jeans, and I shove his hands aside, unzipping them and push them down. He pulls them off completely leaving me with just my panties, and I lay back waiting for his next move. I could see in my mind's eye his tongue lick the outside of my panties, tracing the outline of my cock as it begins to grow under the touch of his lapping tongue. He grips the waist of my panties in his teeth and pulls them down slowly, so that my cock peeks out, the tip glistening in the dim light. He pauses, savouring the moment I raise my hips, desperate for his touch on my cock, and he finally dips to kiss the head, causing me to growl with passion and desire. Hooking his thumbs into the sides of my panties, slowly sliding them down over my thighs and knees and feet, before throwing them into a corner of the room. In my imagination I watch him kneel on the bed before pulling his shirt over his head and his dark chest ripples with reflected light. He smiles down at me, then lies down again, and his soft breath plays across the tip of my cock, making it twitch in anticipation of what is to come. I see him look up at me, and with his eyes still fixed on mine, he flicks his tongue against the tip, before swirling his tongue around it. He pays with me, teasing the tip of my cock before swirling his tongue around the head and flicking that little area of delicate skin where the head joins the shaft. Only when he knows he has me on the ceiling with desire does he slide his warm mouth over my cock and draw me deep into him. Even then, he teases me by letting me slide out and I look down at him again to see him smile wickedly at me before slipping me back into his mouth. My imagination is in overdrive now, feeling his tongue wrapping itself around my cock like a snake, as he slides up and down the shaft. I am dangerously close by this time to my climax and he slows, letting me calm down before using his hand to bring me back to the edge once more. My hands are on his head, urging him to finish the job, when he knocks my hands away and gets to his knees, he unbuckles his trousers and slides them down to reveal his cock standing straight out from his groin. I stare because I have never seen a cock as beautiful as his. He reaches for the lube I keep on my bedside chest and squeezes it over his cock and into my hole. I squirm as I feel it, but I know I will be grateful for it when the moment comes. I cannot help myself and I spread my legs for him, opening myself up to receive him. He puts his hands on my legs to keep them spread, making me feel deliciously vulnerable. I feel his cock tap at the entrance to my hole and he gently squeezes his cock in a fraction before withdrawing and then pushing again. I'm tense, because he is big, and it's been sometime since I had a cock in me. In my imagination I tell myself to relax and push back onto him. Once, twice I feel his cock stretching me until it stings so hard, and I push back one more time and he finally penetrates me. I scream and wrap my legs around his back, locking my ankles together to keep him inside me. I feel his weight on my chest as he begins to slide his cock in and out of me. He leans forward to kiss me and I hear him say I love you Sammy. Reality snaps my eyes open and I find myself naked on the bed, my cock standing up and desperate for some relief. I roll over and open my bedside drawer and my fingers find what I need, a tube of lube and my favourite toy, my dildo. With trembling fingers I smear the dildo and my hole and press the button to start it vibrating. I lie on my back, raise my bum and slide it into me. The vibration kicks in and I close my eyes, imagining it is Marcus and not a cold, hard piece of plastic. With one hand I move it in and out, and with the other I stroke my cock, feeling the climax beginning to build deep within me. I shove the dildo harder and harder into me and my fist is pumping my cock until the small volcano of my climax start to grow and grow and grow and hot sticky cum erupts from my cock. I woke the next morning, still naked, with the dildo lying beside me and a pounding headache. I moaned as I moved, and for some reason every muscle in my body seemed to ache. I must have fallen asleep after my climax last night, and I shuddered as I remembered what I had done last night. Wrapping myself in a robe, I made some coffee, took a couple of aspirins and went back to bed. I called in sick to work and disappeared back under the duvet to try to go back to sleep. It was no use; all I could think of was last night with Marcus. The cold light of dawn revealed the full extent of the disaster; I had kissed a man whose wedding I had attended a couple of weeks before, had fantasised about him making love to me, and pleasured myself thinking about him. I told myself that he had started it, but even I knew that was no excuse for what I had done. I knew now what my real feelings were for Marcus, and it made me shiver to think about facing him again. If I wanted to follow up about the money for the business, then I would have to meet him, I hid my face with the duvet as I burned scarlet with embarrassment. Why was everything so difficult in my life? There was something nagging at me in the back of my mind, something Marcus had said last night. I shook my head, that was a bad move, it was still pounding even after the aspirins. I shrugged and thought I would need to sign and return the contract for the new job when It flashed into my mind. Just before he kissed me had had said he had waited so long to do it. I lay back on the bed staring at the ceiling. That could only mean that he had wanted to do it five years ago when he was with Sophie. I had never suspected a thing. Did this make it better or worse? I beat the pillow with my fist. My phone buzzed, and I looked at it as if it might be a hand grenade about to go off. What if it was Marcus, what the hell should I do? Caller ID showed it was Sophie, so I answered it, blushing as I thought of what I'd just learnt about Marcus. I told her I was sick and hadn't gone to work, and she asked if I had thought any more about the trans girl business. I told her I had and there was the chance I might be able to raise some money. She asked from where, but I said it wasn't certain so I would keep it to myself until I knew more. She had done some work and had found a possible site; a hairdresser was closing down, and the lease was available soon. She asked if I wanted to go with her to see it and could I make this afternoon. We agreed she would pick me up at two o'clock which should allow me to get myself sorted out in time. I put the phone down, and it rang again straight away. I picked it up thinking it was Sophie calling back about something she'd forgotten. I said, yeah what? only to hear Marcus's voice saying hello, is everything alright? I nearly dropped the phone in fright. I mumbled I'm sorry I thought it was Sophie. We're going to look at a possible place for the new business this afternoon. He paused, then said we needed to talk. Hell, I hadn't