Chapter 21 - Halloween For Life (A Fan Fiction Continuation)
Sealed with a Kiss
Wednesday morning.
Jordan rolled over in bed and turned off the alarm. This was the second
day in a row that he had woken before the alarm. He had never been a
morning person before. Was he now becoming one?
"Ow," his breasts felt sore, warm and exceptionally heavy. He was glad
for the skin glue that kept them in place, it made his every day
existence a lot less stressful. But he would be *really* happy to get
these heavy bags off his chest! 'How can women stand this?' he griped,
'having these weights permanently pulling at your front, all day long,
24x7?' He couldn't possibly imagine what it would feel like to have
breasts permanently. 'Thank goodness I'm getting these removed on
Friday,' he thought with relief.
Friday couldn't come soon enough for Jordan. Meeting Dr. Green at the
clinic would be one big step back in the right direction. Now if only he
could fix his voice...
Jordan sat up and massaged his breasts. The massage felt good and helped
to reduce the ache. Jordan supposed that the soreness and the warmth was
simply a side-effect of having worn the breast forms for so long.
Jordan fetched a white pill and a pink pill from the dresser drawers and
padded out to the kitchen to join Angela. He swallowed the white pill
with some coffee and puts the pink pill under his tongue to dissolve.
'And I'll be so glad when I can stop taking these pills,' Jordan thought
to himself. But, like a good patient, he was committed to the full
course of treatment. After all, you can't stop in the middle of taking
antibiotics, or you risk getting having the disease come back, he
thought to himself.
True, Dr. Green hadn't been that clear about the purpose of the pills,
other than they would make him 'feel better', but Jordan just assumed
that they were to help clear up the bad reaction he had in the clinic.
Jordan didn't realize that one was a strong female estrogen. Had he
known, it might have helped explain some of the more emotional feelings
he'd been having recently, as well as the soreness in his breasts.
* * *
"Hey Princess," Angela walked into Jordan's bedroom as he was finishing
his makeup. She started doing up the laces on his corset. It had become
a part of their morning ritual.
'I look good!' Jordan thought, the words sounding on their own inside
his head as he put on the last touches of lipstick. 'I have a beautiful
body!'
What the...? he wondered, confused.
Unlike previous days, where putting on makeup had been an anxiety-ridden
experience with a head full of instructions and self-doubt, this morning
it had actually been... nice. Super-nice, actually. Especially the
lipstick. Just touching the lipstick to his lips and feeling it go on...
it had felt soothing and calming, his jaw and muscles unclenched, and he
suddenly felt more tranquil, more in-control and more confident. It was
a lot like the feelings he got when he...
Jordan tried to think up a good parallel.
It was exactly like how it felt when he lit up a cigarette.
'Oh shit...' Jordan looked at the lipstick, horrified.
"You okay, Sleeping Beauty?" Angela interrupted Jordan's interior
thoughts.
She finished up tightening the corset (was it getting tighter and
tighter every day?), tucked the stray laces away and turned Jordan
around so they were face to face.
"Uh sure, Angela," Jordan replied, his mind confused and roiling. He did
his best to smile.
"Beautiful makeup, by the way," Angela said. "What dress are you going
to wear?"
"I haven't picked one out yet." Jordan was distracted, wondering if he
was really addicted to lipstick or not. Maybe it was just because he was
feeling good this morning? He needed more data.
"How about..." Angela went to Jordan's closet and rifled through the
dresses in his closet, "... this one?"
She held out a V-neck, crepe sheath dress in a rich, navy color. The
plunging neckline would show off the tops of his cleavage, but it had
elbow-length sleeves and the fabric was rich and the color was dark and
work-appropriate. [see http://shop.nordstrom.com/s/eliza-j-v-neck-crepe-
sheath-dress/4492539]
"Okay," Jordan said. "Looks good."
"Very professional. But, Jordan?" Angela hesitated.
"Yes?"
"This dress is narrowly cut..."
"So?"
"Well, I think you'll need to wear your Spanx, you know, to smooth out
the curves around your corset, okay? Otherwise they'll show through and
everyone will know."
Angela rooted through Jordan's drawers and pulled out a flesh-colored
Spanx "Higher Power Short".
"Do I have to?" Jordan whined. The Spanx looked pretty small and pretty
serious in terms of body control. Already Jordan would be wearing four
pieces of underwear (if you counted the pantyhose). This would make it
five. Sheesh - how much underwear did the average woman wear?
"Yes, you have to. I noticed on Monday with your sweater dress - a
little bit of a muffin top at the bottom of your corset. Should we call
Anna and ask her what she thinks?"
"No!" Jordan said, hurriedly. "That's okay." Jordan didn't want to
bother Anna with something so trivial. He had just gotten back on good
terms with her after the fire.
"Then you'll do what Angela says and wear it?"
"Yes, Angela. Thank you." Jordan knew he was a guest and he was trying
to do his best to just get along. 'Just play nice until next Tuesday,'
he told himself. 'Then I'll have a new job and I can get out of here.'
"Now, let's see..." Angela continued, "the dress is classy but a little
boring. Okay, so we'll pair it with these black stilettos, that'll sex
it up a bit, and oh! and I've got an awesome pearl necklace that would
be *perfect*, be right back!"
Angela raced from the bedroom and returned moments later.
"See?" Angela held the pearls to the dress. "Isn't it perfect?"
The necklace was actually four strands of large pearls each at a
different length which joined together at the back of his neck.
"Yes," Jordan agreed, hyperventilating a bit. The pearls against the
navy blue was lovely together. "But... ah... should I be wearing pearls
to work?" All Jordan could think was June Cleaver - wearing pearls like
a housewife.
"Of course! And here, I've got a cute set of dangly pearl earrings as
well. Here."
The earrings had a single small pearl as a dangle and three small
mother-of-pearl flowers right at the ear. [see
https://img0.etsystatic.com/127/0/8427239/il_214x170.882016132_7ar3.jpg
] They looked WAY too feminine to Jordan.
"You'll look so elegant with these on," Angela enthused.
"Are you sure?" Jordan said, looking at the jewelry in his hands. "They
look..."
"Trust me," Angela said. She gave Jordan a quick peck on the cheek. "Oh
my, just look at us!" she said, looking in the full-length mirror on the
wall.
Jordan saw two women in the mirror, both dressed in lingerie, all made
up, full of womanly curves. Jordan had on his corset, his panties were a
pair of 'crochet lace sexy shorties' in dusty rose-pink paired with a
matching "The Date" push-up lacey underwire bra with thin shoulder
straps and a lacy wide racerback. He liked the push-up bras, because
they helped bear the weight of the breast forms. Unfortunately, because
the breast forms were glued on, they also plumped up his natural
cleavage which made it possible for him to wear the lower-cut dresses.
"Aren't we a pair of hotties?" Angela said, making a kissy-face at the
mirror. Angela put an arm around Jordan's waist.
"We are," Jordan blushed, batting his eyes. They looked like two sexy
roommates, all made up and helping each other get dressed in the morning
- right out of a straight-man's Playboy-magazine fantasy.
'Oh god help me.' The image was getting Jordan excited. Of course, he
wasn't getting any male bulges (Jordan was convinced the drugs were
responsible for his lack of erections), but he was definitely feeling
warm and horny. He wished he could get rid of Angela and enjoy some
personal release.
"Oh, Jordan," Angela said, turning to face Jordan and lightly pulled
their two bodies together. Their breasts and legs (silky smooth with no
hair) rubbed up against each other. "I.." Angela traced a finger down
the delicate silk strap of Jordan's push-up bra, giving Jordan the
shivers. "I..." She hesitated, looking him in the eyes, intently.
"Yes, Angela?" Jordan asked, panting slightly, suddenly aware that one
of her hands had dropped down to lightly cup his bottom.
"I wish..." Angela took a deep and slow breath. The space between them
was suddenly charged with intimacy. Angela leaned in...
'Is she going to kiss me???' Jordan thought, suddenly frantic. 'Is she--
'
But no. Angela went to the side and gave Jordan a light kiss on the ear.
Turning him back to the dresser drawers, she playfully smacked his
bottom.
"I wish you'd get dressed!" she commanded. "No more dawdling or we'll be
late for work!"
* * *
'It's a girdle,' Jordan thought to himself, annoyed and rolling his
eyes. The two working girls stepped out into the cool morning air to
walk to work. 'They may call it the Thinstincts High Waisted, Mid-Thigh
Power Short, but who are they kidding? It's a girdle.'
Like the previous two days, Jordan glanced over at his old apartment,
the door still crisscrossed with yellow caution tape, before looking
away and concentrating on the walk to work. He had to be careful walking
in heels on the sidewalk or he'd step into a crack and fall on his butt.
"You look amazing," Angela said, looking over Jordan approvingly. "Spanx
are incredible, aren't they?"
"Yes, they certainly do the job," Jordan spread his hands down his
smooth torso. "Tight, though."
"Well, that's the whole point, isn't it?"
"I guess so." Jordan did a funny butt wiggle, trying to get comfortable.
There was no fear of any inappropriate male-type bulges, that was for
sure! The Spanx compressed his body all the way from his bra down, over
the corset, and down half way to his knees. It certainly did smooth
things out.
Jordan felt... ladylike. There was no other word. From the heels which
'click-clicked' on the pavement, to the crepe navy-blue dress (with such
sophisticated styling), the Spanx (feeling all compressed and put
together), the slippery pantyhose which caressed his legs as he walked,
the pearl necklace ropes which hung down in front and gently bounced
against his chest, the earrings which gently brushed his neck, the push-
up bra which compressed and thrust his chest forward, the perfume which
Angela had insisted he wear ("Let's try this scent today," she had said,
"I think it will be more 'you' ") and the bracelets tinkling at his
wrist... he looked and felt like a lady.
Jordan Nicole was a lady manufacturing engineer on her way to work. As
always, he felt like his dress was a kind of armor. An armor against
discovery that he was really a man pretending to be a woman.
Jordan wondered why he wasn't hating this more. Perhaps it was because
his current outfit felt so much more professional and less overtly
sexual than previous ones (especially compared to the dress he had to
wear to Bella's party!). Or perhaps he was just getting used to it. He
had been dressing as a woman now for (almost) two weeks. But so much had
happened in those two weeks! It felt like an eternity.
Or maybe his positive feelings about his body and dress had other
origins? Jordan began to worry more about what RoseMarie, and maybe
Vanessa? had said to him while he was under hypnosis.
"Smoke?" Angela asked, putting a smoke between her lips, lighting it,
and then handing it over to Jordan.
This would be a test. How would he react?
"Sure," Jordan said, accepting the cigarette from Angela.
Jordan carefully monitored his feelings, looking for signs of mental
reprogramming. What thoughts had RoseMarie planted his hypnosis therapy?
He held the cigarette in his hands and looked at it... it was just a
cigarette. Just an ordinary, harmless cigarette. He didn't feel
anything!
'Wonderful!' Jordan thought to himself, delighted. 'I knew that hypnosis
was just a bunch of bullshit!' Of course, if hypnosis was ineffective on
Jordan, then how did he explain his changed feelings about putting on
makeup? Hmmm....
Jordan and Angela passed the construction worker, Bob, who was again
eating his breakfast sandwich, and who (again) whistled a cat-call to
Angela and who (again) got Angela's middle finger in response. It was
becoming another morning ritual.
As they walked, Jordan and Angela talked about work and the mystery of
the 5% batch failure rates. What was so baffling is that it seems like
they had checked everything they could. All of the machines were well
within tolerances and seemed to be calibrated correctly, the raw
materials tests had not turned up anything, there had been no
substantive changes to the line. What could it be?
The mystery continued.
"Hey, I have an idea," Angela said. "Let's get a pizza and just hang out
watching TV at the apartment tonight. I think we deserve a night off.
What do you say?"
"Sounds wonderful," Jordan said. This was the first good idea that
Angela has had all week! "Pizza and beer, I'm all in."
"Ooh! Even better! Let's make it a slumber party!"
"A WHAT? A sl-sl-slumber party?" Jordan was horrified. How, in a single
sentence, had she been able to take the most perfect, relaxed evening
and turn it into something stressful and insane?? "Uh, sounds a bit
juvenile, doesn't it?"
"An *adult* slumber party," Angela amended. "We'll wear our PJ's, we'll
get shit faced, we'll gossip about men, we'll play 'never have I ever',
how about it?"
"Oh, Angela, I don't know... on Wednesday evening?" The idea of a
slumber party scared the shit out of Jordan. Especially the 'gossiping
about boys' part. Angela knew that 'Jordan Nicole' was shy and
'sheltered' by her sister, Anna, but Jordan was worried that the lie
could only stretch so far. Angela would see instantly that he knew
absolutely *nothing* about boys.
Except, of course, that he was one.
"Come on, it'll be fun!"
Jordan was just about to object again, more strenuously this time, but
by now they had reached the front door and were stubbing out their
cigarettes in the ashtray. And that's when Jordan got a shock. Jordan's
cigarette: it only had Angela's pink lipstick on it. There was none of
Jordan's red lipstick on it at all! But then that meant....
... that Jordan had walked the entire distance from the apartment to the
office and hadn't taken a single puff.
'Oh god,' he groaned, as he stubbed out what remained. Maybe RoseMarie's
therapy *had* done something to him? Something subtle and deep. Imagine,
holding a cigarette in your hand for fifteen minutes and simply not
craving it enough to take a smoke?
Jordan followed Angela into the front doors of the office, seriously
confused and worried. As he badged in and walked to the elevators he
noticed something else. Something absolutely terrifying.
Jordan had a strong craving to re-apply his lipstick.
* * *
Jordan dove into his work, answering e-mails, checking production
statistics and reviewing work schedules. Hearing the 'tick tick tick' of
his fingernails on the keyboard made him feel like...
... like a secretary, he realized.
As was typical for Jordan, he lost himself in his work, working through
tables of numbers, checking on equipment specifications and so on. He
felt like a woman at work. He would run a finger down a table of numbers
and stare, amazed, at his manicured fingernails. Once he caught himself
absent-mindedly playing with his pearl necklace. Another time he
discovered he was twisting the bracelets on his wrist.
In fact, he was so focused on his work that he didn't know what his
hands were doing until he felt something on his lips.
"Shit!" Jordan looked at the tube of lipstick in his hands with
something akin to horror. How had it got there?
His subconscious mind had taken it out all by itself.
Freaked, Jordan quickly capped the tube and thrust it back into his
purse, pushing it down to the bottom as far as it would go.
* * *
Jordan continued to work, stepping out a couple of times for some quick
meetings. As the day continued, he could tell he was getting more and
more jittery. Since Jordan had quit smoking before, he clearly
understood the feelings.
They were cravings. But cravings for what? He didn't feel like having a
smoke break.
"Goddamn it," he muttered. Being in meetings had helped him to focus,
but now, back in his office alone, he was feeling more desperate. Jordan
turned to his computer and continued working.
'Maybe I should just check my makeup?' Jordan thought to himself, his
hand reaching over to the purse. It was a white leather purse (from
Angela) which contrasted beautifully with his dark-blue outfit. 'After
all, maybe it's been smudged and need to be freshened?'
"Jordan!" He slapped his hand away. "Focus on your work! You don't need
to check your makeup!"
Jordan went back to his e-mails, and then pulled out one of the binders
to do some cross referencing.
'What's the harm in just taking a peek...' he thought, eyeing the purse,
knowing that just an arms-length away was a compact mirror and all sorts
of makeup he could use. Some blush... some foundation... the
liiiippppstiiickkkk.... Jordan sighed, his mind drifting, imagining the
tube in his hand... rotating it...
"Stop that!" he scolded himself again, desperately forcing his mind back
to productive work.
He answered another couple of e-mails, and then turned to fetch some
papers and looked over at the handbag again. Oh god. His fingers slowly
snaked their way over before he pulled them back and turned to his
binder to finish gathering the numbers he needed.
The cravings were getting worse. It was like a drumbeat in his head:
'take a break', it said. 'Put on some more makeup.' The words in his
head were relentless. 'What could it hurt? All women do it. You want to
look your best, don't you?'
Each time, Jordan forced his eyes back to his computer, telling himself
that if he could just get through this, it would get easier. His nails
continued to 'tick tick' on the keyboard, mocking him.
'Anna would be pleased to see that you're looking your best,' said the
words in his head. 'Why don't you take a break and freshen up - for her?
Angela too. She wants you to look your best. You know she does. It's
harmless. It will only take a few seconds. And it will feel so good...'
After a few more minutes of going back and forth, Jordan gave in. His
internal rationalizing had become ridiculous. He was *certainly* not
getting any work done.
"I'll just check that everything's okay," he reasoned. "It will only
take a second. One quick check and then I'll be past this and I can get
right back to work."
Reaching into his purse, Jordan pulled out the compact. Just feeling
it's smooth plastic surface calmed his nerves. Snapping open the lid, he
inspected his face. Everything was fine, but his nose could use a touch-
up. So he used the powder puff to dab on some powder and then he blended
it with a finger.
And maybe his lipstick could use a touch-up as well. It was a little off
on one side. Hardly noticeable, but since he had the compact out...
Jordan pulled out the red lipstick. It was more of a lighter and duskier
red, not especially bright - more appropriate for work - but it was
definitely red and highlighted his lips. Jordan pulled off the cap and
twisted the base.
"Ohhh..." he sighed, watching the red stick rotate out. Jordan placed
the compact onto the desk with the mirror angled open so he could use
both hands. With one hand he used a tissue to carefully wipe clean the
corner of his lips that was smudged, and then, with his other hand, he
applied the lipstick, carefully filling in the part he had rubbed away,
and then touching up the rest of it as well.
"Ohmmmm..." Jordan hummed, happily. A sense of soothing calm came over
him. He sighed and closed his eyes for a second, just enjoying the
feeling of freshly applied makeup.
"I do have a beautiful body," the words came up to him from his
subconscious and Jordan spoke them aloud. "I should take care of it. I
am proud of this body. I love being a beautiful woman."
Fuck! Jordan shook his head.
A sense of dread came over him. He was a smart person. He had been
through college. He was a manufacturing engineer good at looking at data
and making conclusions. Jordan applied those skills to his current
situation and the results were obvious.
RoseMarie's hypnotherapy had been a roaring success.
"I'm addicted to... lipstick?" Jordan shuddered. He looked at the tube
in his hands, and felt a wave of desire... a desire to use it. RoseMarie
had flipped his cravings into something that practically forced him down
a path of hyper-femininity!
And not only had she replaced his addiction to cigarettes with an
addiction to makeup and lipstick, but clearly she had planted
suggestions to help improve his body image. She had planted positive,
affirmative messages which would come up from his subconscious whenever
he put on makeup!
Jordan thought back to his hypnotherapy session and tried to reconstruct
it.
"Oh no..." Jordan moaned, realizing what had happened. He had told
RoseMarie that he had started smoking again after having gone to the
spa. Clearly she had identified the root cause of his smoking problem as
one of low body-image self-esteem. And she had decided to fix it by
helping him to love his body - the only problem was she was helping him
to love his *female* body, and not his male one!
"Shit," Jordan cursed. He couldn't stop putting on makeup because he
needed it to continue the deception, at least until he got a new job.
But every time he did, all of these 'positive female body image'
messages from RoseMarie would be taking over his brain, seemingly
whether he wanted them or not!
'But you *are* beautiful,' the thought forced itself into his head. 'You
*are* a beautiful woman.'
Was that another plant by RoseMarie?? Jordan shivered in fear. The words
in his head - were they his words or RoseMarie's?
Jordan had to admit that RoseMarie was a brilliant hypnotherapist. She
had connected his cravings with the act of becoming more beautiful,
through makeup -- and then had connected that to these positive feminine
messages. Everything reinforced each other and was meant to address what
(she thought) the core problem: Jordan didn't like his body.
The only problem was that she was mistaken about the core problem!
But there was another thought as well. A thought about hypnosis. A
small, but persistent thought that scared Jordan so much that he pushed
it way, WAY down and wouldn't even consider it.
Regardless, Jordan vowed *never* to go back to RoseMarie for another
session. He would have to find a way to cancel his Thursday appointment,
come hell or high water! And in the meantime, he'd just have to do his
best to ignore all of those thoughts about his 'beautiful body' and
about how he loved to be a 'beautiful woman'.
After he got a new job, he'd go back and have RoseMarie (or Vanessa)
undo everything. Jordan prayed that such a thing was possible!
* * *
Meanwhile, Jason was on his way to see Jordan when he looked into
Jordan's office and stopped short.
There she was, putting on makeup...
... and enjoying it.
'What the fuck?' Jason looked at Jordan, horrified. Jordan wasn't just
enjoying it... it seemed to be almost an orgasmic experience for her.
She was sighing and humming with pleasure just putting on lipstick!
Shit, was his old friend still in there at all? It was like an alien had
completely taken over!
'Maybe Johanson was right all along?' Jason wondered, the traitorous
thought forcing its way into brain for about the 99th time. After all,
you can only look at someone who is so feminine - in appearance, in
mannerism, in speech - for so long before wondering if maybe this was
what they were meant to be.
"Shit..." Jason muttered to himself, watching Jordan smile to her
reflection in the compact mirror.
'This is Jordan, for crissakes,' Jason told himself. 'You panty-raided
Steffi Gunderson with him, remember?'
'But who kept those panties?' a little voice in Jason's head asked.
'Where are those panties now?'
Suddenly, Jason remembered that it *was* Jordan who had kept Steffi
Gunderson's satiny pink panties for himself all those years ago. He had
been quite insistent, in fact. What he done with those panties? Had
he... worn them?
Was he a really a woman inside? Did he really want to transition?
"No!" Jason decided, firmly stepping into the office. "Jordan," he said,
in as manly a way as possible.
"Eep!" Jordan let out a girlish squeak, snapping the compact closed.
"Jason! You scared me!"
"Suck it up. Hey, listen, you plan to be a man for the interview,
right?"
"Hell yeah! What do you take me for?"
"Well then, I think we need to 'butch you up'. *cough* I mean 'man you
up!' You are acting way too girly!"
"Oh come on, I just need to get some male clothes and take off this
makeup."
"And lower your voice."
"Right, of course. I can do that."
"And stop walking like a woman."
"It's these heels that Angela keeps putting me in! I can't help it. All
I need is a pair of flats. I mean male shoes!"
"Fine. Listen, now is not the time, but we gotta get out of here and go
to a bar or something and get some beers. It's like I can't see my old
buddy anymore. I just see this... this..."
"Nicole," Jordan suggested, understanding what his friend was trying to
tell him. "I've become a 'Nicole'."
Nicole was the term that Jason and Jordan used to use whenever they saw
a hot woman walking by. "Man, is she a 'Nicole' or what?" Jason used to
say. It all started with the hottest, most feminine woman at their high
school, Nicole Davenport, who all of the boys lusted after and who broke
all of their hearts.
"Right. That's exactly what I see," Jason agreed. "A Nicole. You've
become a Nicole and we need you to be Jordan, at least for next
Tuesday!"
"I know, I know, you're right," Jordan agreed. "I've been concentrating
so hard on being a woman in every way so that no one will notice, that I
think I... maybe I... maybe I've gone too far. So hell yeah, let's go to
a bar! Maybe you can bring some of your clothes and I'll change and be
just 'male Jordan' for a while. That'll be a relief!"
"Perfect. Tonight?"
"Tonight? Shit. I can't. Angela wants to do a slumber party tonight."
"A slumber party??" Jason was disgusted. "Goddamnit Jordan! Are you
fucking kidding me? Here I want to go to a sports bar so we can be a
couple of --" Jason almost choked on the word, "*men*, and you're going
to a fucking slumber party?"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Jordan shrank back. What was *with* Jason
recently? Why was he treating him like this? Why was he always being so
aggressive and overbearing? "You know how Angela is!" Jordan tried to
explain. "I just can't tell her 'no', she'll want to know 'why?' And
then what do I say? She'll want to come along, no matter what. You know
that. If I try and sneak out, she'll probably stalk me. Jason, please,
let's just do it tomorrow night, okay? I already have an agreement with
Johanson to go to vendor training, so it's a ready excuse."
Jason realized that Jordan was right about Angela. 'Man, I seem to be
flying off the handle all the time at poor Jordan,' Jason realized,
'what is wrong with me?'
"Sorry," Jason apologized. "You're right, of course. Hey, but wait. What
do you mean that you 'have an agreement' with Johanson? Are you actually
going to training or not? Or is it just some excuse?"
"I'm--" Jordan halted. Should he tell Jason about RoseMarie? What would
Jason say about Jordan going to RoseMarie for hypnotherapy to stop
smoking? Jordan decided it was better not to say anything, otherwise he
was sure to get another lecture from Jason. Or worse. Besides, he was
canceling it as soon as he could, so there no need to tell his friend.
"I'm?" Jason prompted.
"I am. Of course I am."
"Okay, cool. So where should I pick you up?"
Jordan sighed and looked up the name and address of the manufacturer's
office which was just two blocks away from RoseMarie's office. It looks
like he was stuck taking the bus again to RoseMarie's office building
(it was the closest bus stop). But there was no way he would be doing
another session. No way in hell.
* * *
The rest of the day proceeded normally. Or at least as normally as it
could proceed for someone addicted to putting on makeup.
Jordan tried his best to leave his makeup in his purse, but every other
hour or so he couldn't help himself and would have to pull out his
compact and touch things up and re-apply his lipstick.
If only it didn't feel so good when he did it!
And each and every time those same thoughts would rattle through his
head: "I am a beautiful woman. I have a beautiful body. I love my body."
And on and on.
It was driving him crazy. As in, literally insane.
"I know your secret."
"Tiffany!" Jordan jumped, startled.
"Hey Jordan! I'm just here delivering the mail."
Tiffani pulled up a chair and sat facing Jordan.
"I know your secret," she said, again. "And what's more, I can help."
"My s-secret?" Jordan stammered. Now what? Had Tiffani realized that he
was a man?
"Yes! Your secret."
"Wh-wh-what's my secret?"
Tiffani held up a pen.
"My secret is a pen?" Jordan asked, confused.
"I know you're seeing Dr. Coleman to help you stop smoking," Tiffani
explained.
"Oh!" Jordan said with a rush of relief. My god, he wondered, how many
times are people going to be guessing at my secret and getting it wrong?
"Mr. Johanson told me. You're so smart! I also went to RoseMarie Coleman
to stop smoking! Angela recommended her. She's amazing! You are in
*very* good hands."
"Oh! Uh, thanks. You know that Angela doesn't know I'm seeing her,
right? I'd prefer if you kept it secret."
"My lips are sealed!" Tiffani pretended to zip her lips close, lock
them, and then throw away the key.
"So, what's with the pen?"
"This is your savior," Tiffani explained. "After my first session with
RoseMarie, I almost went insane because I desperately wanted something
to replace the cigarette. Smoking is such an oral experience, amiright?
And, like you, my brain automatically went to putting on lipstick. But
how many times can you put on lipstick in one day? I was rubbing my lips
raw! That's when I realized I could replace it with a pen. That's why I
chew on a pen all day. It helps reduce my cravings. Try it!"
Tiffany handed the pen to Jordan.
"Thank you, Tiffani," Jordan said, gratefully. Maybe he could get
through this after all.
"And what are you two gossiping about?" Angela stepped into the office.
"Angela!" Tiffani jumped up.
Tiffani and Jordan at looked at each other. They couldn't say they were
talking about RoseMarie and Jordan's hypnotherapy session. What should
they say?
"I... I..." Jordan said, struggling. Damnit! If only I was better at
lying! he cursed to himself. Jordan looked up at Angela and just said
the first thing that came into his head.
"Slumber party," Jordan said, and then winced. Shit. Why did he say
that?
"Slumber party?" Angela asked. "What about it?"
"I was, uh, just telling Tiffani that I had never been to a slumber
party before."
"WHHHAAATTT??" both Tiffani and Angela looked at Jordan, astonished.
"Are you kidding me? But... but... but..." Angela was almost speechless.
"But you have a *sister*! Didn't you ever do a slumber party with her??"
"Uh..." Shit. Jordan had forgotten he was supposed to have a sister.
"No," he admitted.
"Oh, Jordan!! You said you led a sheltered life, but I had no idea just
how sheltered! Tiffani, we have to give Jordan a real slumber party!"
Tiffani looked at Jordan with such pity. 'Of course Jordan's never had a
slumber party!' Tiffani thought to herself. 'She's transgender! She's
just getting used to being a woman. How terrible that she missed all of
those fun experiences with girlfriends growing up!'
Right then and there, Tiffani vowed to show Jordan the most girly, sexy
fun slumber party she could!
"Awesome!!!" Tiffani jumped up and clapped her hands. "We'll do
makeovers, we'll play truth or dare..."
"We'll do Jello shots..."
"We'll call up boys and leave them dirty messages..." Tiffani giggled.
"We'll model lingerie..."
"Ladies!" Jordan broke in, horrified that now *Tiffani* was going to
join in! "Stop! I don't really want a slumber party! Can't we just go
and eat some pizza and drink a beer and just relax?"
"Lo siento, mi amiga," Tiffani said. She understood why Jordan might
feel worried. After all, this was a transgender girl who had never had
close girlfriends before! Tiffani was on a mission now! Jordan, Tiffani,
and Angela were going to be best girlfriends and she was going educate
Jordan in girlhood and show her what she's been missing all this time!
"The choice is no longer yours," Tiffani grinned, "It is a crime against
nature that you haven't had a proper slumber party at the ripe old age
of twenty-four! Angela and I will give you one."
"Indeed we will!"
Wonderful, Jordan thought, sourly. Just fucking wonderful.
* * *
"So, what'd you dig up on Matt Coleman's Sleeping Beauty?" Harvey Levin
from TMZ was reviewing the day's stories with the staff.
"I ain't got shit," Don said with a grimace. "I checked with one of the
assistant coaches. She's just the friend of the sister. They're not
dating. There was a Sportscenter segment speculating about the two, but
it was just speculation. There's nothing."
"Hunh. Too bad," Harvey thought for a second. There was something in
that video, however...
"Should we publish the video anyway?" Don asked. "It's cute. It'll get
some views."
"Let's hold off. Monitor the situation and see how it develops. I've got
a feeling about this one. We just need to give Matt Coleman a little
slack in the rope."
"Sure," Don agreed. "I'll check back in a week and see if they're fuck-
buddies yet."
"Keep a tight leash on it. Meanwhile, I've got a Lindsay Lohan leads for
you."
"Crap. Not another god-damn Lindsay Low-hand assignment?"
* * *
Jordan had found a couple of close-up pictures of Anna in her wedding
dress from years ago in her Facebook feed and he had cropped them (so
that only Anna was showing) and then printed them on the company color-
printer. Jordan waited, nervously, by the printer so he could snatch up
the pictures as soon as they were printed.
"Who's that?"
"Crap!" Jordan jumped. "Nothing!" he said hastily. "Nothing at all."
Jordan snatched up the paper and held it to his chest.
It was the machinist, David Guertin again. He seemed always to be
around, surprising Jordan at the most awkward times.
"Is that someone you know?" he asked.
Jordan struggled for an explanation. Why would he be printing out a
random picture of a woman in a wedding dress?
"It's, ah, for my sister," Jordan said, flustered. That much was true,
at least in part. Damn it, why can't he lie? It seems like such an easy
thing when other people do it! He had even practiced lying when he was
alone at home - but it never seemed to help. All of this stumbling
around with half-truths was just getting him into deeper and deeper
trouble at every turn.
"Your sister is getting married? Congratulations! That means that you'll
be the maid of honor, I bet?"
"Well, ah... actually, it's not actually... I mean... the man hasn't
proposed yet. But I, um, saw this dress and thought I'd... ah... clip it
out as something she might like."
There, Jordan thought. David's never met his sister, so he wouldn't
recognize her in the picture. And even if they did meet, someday, Jordan
doubted that David would remember the face from the photograph enough to
recognize that it was Anna all along.
"Who's the lucky man?" David asked.
"Oh, ah..." Jordan flailed about, cursing himself all over again. Who
the hell should he say? Just some guy? But then, if word came from
Angela...
"It's Jason. From HR," Jordan said, with a sinking feeling. He gone and
done it again - emphasizing the lie that Jason and Anna are about to be
engaged.
"That's fabulous!!" David said, pumping the air. "Jason's awesome! He's
like, my favorite person in the company! He's always asking how things
are going and making sure that everyone's taking full advantage of their
benefits. He's incredible! I'm so glad. I had noticed that he seemed
pretty down these last couple of years. I'm glad he's finally gonna get
some lovin'."
"Down?" This was news to Jordan. "You mean... depressed?"
"Yeah, you know, since he got dumped by that girl? What was her name?"
"Sheila?" Jordan offered. He had, of course, talked to Jason in the past
about Sheila.
"That's it, Sheila! Rumor is, he proposed marriage at this fancy
restaurant and she told him 'no', and then just walked out. Said his job
was too low-class for her, can you believe that?"
Jordan was astonished. What he had heard from Jason it had happened the
other way around, that it was Jason who had dumped Sheila. And Jordan
didn't know that there had been a marriage proposal! Jordan felt so sad
for Jason, and horrible that he hadn't been a better friend.
"So, yeah," David continued. "I'm glad to hear that Jason is finally
going to find some happiness in this life. He deserves it."
* * *
"Hey Babe."
Anna's voice was soothing to Jordan's ears.
"Hey, honey," Jordan said. "Miss me?"
"Uh..." Anna stumbled, "I mean, of *course* I missed you! I'm just
having trouble adjusting to that new voice of yours."
"Really? I thought it was sounding lower," Jordan said, chewing on his
new pen cap.
"Ummm... not that I can tell," Anna said, apologetically. "I'm sure that
it will! But in the meantime, I guess it's a good thing - helping you to
live as a woman until I get back from training, and all."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Hey, I got a call from my parents."
"Oh, how are they? Did you tell them about the fire?"
"They're good, and of course I told them about the fire." Jordan could
hear the hurt in Anna's voice. It was clear that she was still having a
hard time getting used to the consequences of the fire. "Anyway, they've
been talking with your folks--"
"Uh-oh." Jordan and Anna's parents had got along famously from the
moment they met each other. From long experience, Jordan knew to be in
mortal fear whenever they started cooking up something together.
"Yeah, seriously? Anyway, what they want is to come visit for the week
*after* Thanksgiving. They want to help us find a new place and get re-
situated. I told them you were staying with Jason in the mean-time. I
hope that was okay."
"Of course..." Jordan thought about it. "When is Thanksgiving?"
"I looked it up, it's two weeks from tomorrow."
"So, why the week after Thanksgiving?"
"Apparently Mom already promised Thanksgiving to Amber," Amber was
Anna's older sister, "and you know, with the twins getting older, they
didn't think they could break that. So they'll be flying out on the
Friday after Thanksgiving."
Jordan thought about it. He would be interviewing for the new job on
Tuesday. The day after he could quit this job and then probably he would
be able to move in with Jason.
So it seemed safe that by Thanksgiving everything would be back to
normal.
"Sounds good," Jason said.
"Cool. I'll call Mom back and let her know. They'll have to stay in a
hotel, of course."
"Of course. So when will you be coming?"
Anna bit her lip.
"Thursday afternoon," she said.
"THURSDAY AFTERNOON?" Jordan said, angrily. "What do you mean, Thursday
afternoon? How late?"
Anna's shoulders sank. She hated having to tell Jordan this.
"11:30 in the evening," she said. "I'm so sorry, Jordan! It was the only
flight I could get. Everything else was completely booked."
"Oh Anna," Jordan felt his heart breaking. "I... I was really hoping we
could be together the whole week."
"I know, babes, but I have training on Monday and Tuesday, and all of
the flights were booked on Wednesday. I tried everything. I even looked
for bus transportation. I'm so sorry. But it's only two weeks. Surely we
can hold out for two measly weeks?"
Jordan thought about it. In a week he'd have a new job. Maybe he could
borrow some money from Jason and go visit Anna after he quit from
Johanson and Johanson. Maybe he could surprise her? That would be nice.
"Of course," Jordan said. "After all, it's just two weeks, right? What
could possibly go wrong in just two weeks?"
* * *
"Pizza's ordered," Angela announced, hanging up the phone. "More
margaritas, anyone?"
"Yes please!" Tiffani said, holding out her glass. "Jordan needs a fill-
up too!" she pointed.
Angela filled up their glasses, and hers as well. Already she and Jordan
had been drinking for an hour, waiting for Tiffani to show up. Jello
shots were cooling in the refrigerator.
"I haven't been to a slumber party in, like, forever!" Tiffani grinned.
Tiffani had an overnight bag sitting next to her on the floor. "Thank
you for inviting me!"
"Not much of a party with two people," Angela observed. "Who was that
crazy hot man who dropped you off?"
"Oh, that was my husband *Ben*," Tiffani said, with a dreamy expression
in her voice. "He's a policeman!"
"Are they... I mean, I've heard stories," Angela said. "He is... you
know... quite, ah, you know...?" Angela closed her eyes and pretended to
pant in heat.
"Oh my god, YES. He wants it, like, *all the time*," Tiffani giggled.
"What do you mean, all the time? Details!" Angela demanded.
"Well, like, you know... every night, and, well..." Tiffani blushed,
"uh... every other morning. We even..." Tiffani halted, her eyes
glancing out to the street.
"You what? Did you...?" Angela looked at her, astonished.
"Yes."
"In the car?? Just now??"
Tiffani just looked away, turning bright red.
"Tiffani!!!" Angela squealed, delighted. "You slut! I thought you
smelled rank!"
"I know! But he's so, you know, *satisfying*. Whenever I'm around him, I
just start dripping!"
"Satisfying?" Angela asked. "How satisfying? We girls want numbers!"
"Oh, well, you know... let's just say that he's... uh... quite, uh,
*filling*."
"Oh, *YUM*, Tiffani!" Angela looked flushed too. "So, how do you keep
someone like that coming -- oops!" Tiffani giggled hysterically at the
pun, she had been hitting the margaritas for a while already, "*ahem*,
uh, coming back? I mean, you know, sated? Over and over?"
"Well, I have this trick. You know. With his..." Tiffani held her hand
in a cup.
"His *balls*?" Angela was never the one for subtlety.
"Angela!" Tiffani protested. "But yes. With my mouth. I hum. and oh man,
when I do..."
"I know, they love that, don't they? And then you start humming, one guy
I did that to and he just started spurting everywhere. This fountain of
sperm, like, all over! Ruined my hair, I had to go to the salon the next
day, and the ladies were, like, what's this gunk in your hair? 'Ewww!' "
"Tell me about it! Ben is so... well you know, uh... well endowed, that
when he... uh... you know, when he peaks? There's no place for it to go,
right? And so it goes up my nose! It's happened at least a dozen times."
"Up your NOSE?"
"Yeah!" Tiffani laughed. "It burns a little? But I love it, because I,
like, I smell him for, I swear, *days* afterwards. You're smelling it
with every breath you take, no matter how much you wash your nose, it
just doesn't come out. And so I'm there, in a meeting with Mr. Johanson,
right? And I take a breath and I smell Ben from last night, and I tell
you, it is *VERY* distracting!"
"I can imagine!!"
"And it makes me horny - oh god - so horny, that I practically pounce on
the poor man as soon as he gets home."
"Oh Tiffani, you are so lucky! The losers I've had, oh my god, what is
wrong with me? I must attract them. One guy? We're like necking in the
car after the date and he like, *grunts* and I look down and there's a
stain in his crotch."
"In his pants? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"There was no fucking! None at all! That was the problem! Here I'm nice
and horny and wanting to get it on, and he's already across the finish
line! Even worse, he just said 'thanks' and drove off!"
"Loser. You deserve better, Angela."
"And this other guy? So hot. SUPER good looking. But it never got hard!
I tried everything. I gave him a hand job, I used my titties, I sucked
on it... A big fat *nothing*. And he's like, 'Hey babe, why'd you stop?
It was just getting good.' And I'm like, are you fucking serious? I've
been giving you a free lap dance for, practically, an *hour* and you
still got nothin'?"
"Hard men are good to find!" Tiffani giggled.
"You said it sister!"
Both Tiffani and Angela looked over at Jordan, who had been watching and
listening to all of this in shock, mouth open. He felt like an
anthropologist, observing this strange and (for him) remote society and
being accepted as one of its members. Is this really what women talk
about when men aren't around? He couldn't believe it! Sperm up your
nose? Really?
Suddenly Jordan realized they were looking at him, expectantly.
"Amen!" Jordan said.
"Aww, Jordan. Are you blushing? You're bright red!"
"Just, ah, just a bit hot in here!" Jordan fanned himself. Shit! All
this talk was making him so horny! Maybe he could just slip away
and....have some personal time?
"I agree!" Angela said. "Let's get these hot work clothes off and get
into some nighties. The pizza should be here soon."
* * *
Tiffani had shown them a sexy, shiny baby-doll that she had brought with
her, and then, basically, demanded that both Jordan and Angela put on
the same. 'Jordan needs a real slumber party,' Tiffani had told herself
as she made this demand, grinning. 'And I'm going to make sure she gets
the full girly treatment!'
"But I don't have anything but nightshirts," Jordan complained.
"Oh yes you do!" Angela said. "I was there when Rebecca put that sexy
pink and lace babydoll from Victoria's Secret in your bag!"
"Rebecca?" Tiffani asked, eyes wide. "You mean... Johanson's niece??"
"Yeah," Jordan said, sourly. "We all went shopping together, you know,
after the fire? And Rebecca sort of, took control."
"And guess who paid for it all?" Angela smirked.
"NO!" Tiffani said, immediately sizing up the situation. "Mr. JOHANSON
paid for it? Oh, Jordan!"
"I know," Jordan shrugged his shoulders. "But what could I do? I have
absolutely zero cash until my paycheck comes in at the end of the month.
I have to depend on the good will of others."
"Well, I hope you avoid any close encounters with Mr. Johanson in the
future," Tiffani warned. "He..." she halted. "Well, let's just say that
you should not be alone with him."
"He's going on a Luncheon date with Johanson on Sunday," Angela said,
frowning.
"Jordan!" Tiffani gasped. "Why?"
"It's not a date!" Jordan explained. "It's for a major stockholder - a
Rebecca Guertin."
"Oh, *HAH*," Tiffani said, dismissively. "That old bitch has known
Johanson for, like, a hundred years. I mean, literally she used to baby-
sit him when he was a toddler."
"No... seriously?" Jordan asked, horrified.
"Seriously. It's a set-up. No doubt. Why'd you accept, anyway? Didn't
you know it was improper? Couldn't you smell something was fishy?"
Jordan thought back to that moment when he was sitting on the couch with
Mr. Johanson. At the time, he was the boss, Jordan was the employee, it
was a non-social environment... But then, he had held Jordan's hand and
that had, kind-of, freaked him out. But he was already rattled by his
conversation with Jason - and how Jason had become so angry! And then,
Johanson had come and saved Jordan - if he hadn't interceded just then -
what would Jason have done? Would he have done something violent to
Jordan? It had been a real possibility.
It had been the first time that Jordan had felt physically afraid - and
from someone he knew - that was the worst part of it. It was Jason, his
friend from, like, forever.
And so the truth was that he had been confused and bewildered. Confused
by the clothes, and feeling so week and defenseless while being
physically threatened by Jordan, and feeling so grateful to Johanson for
saving him, and then being with his boss and trying to remember to thank
him and be polite.
He had felt like... like a girl. Like a scared, frightened, grateful
girl.
It was all too much! Too much happening too fast! If only he could stop
the world for like a *month* so he could just get off and catch up!
But there was no stopping it. Jordan was being swept along by the tide
of events to god-knows-what destination and he'd have to just try and
make do. And every now and then, he'd get confused and he'd make a
mistake. Even a whopper of a mistake like accepting Johansson's
invitation to a luncheon date.
"I don't know," Jason admitted, "but I feel like a dipshit now for not
realizing what was going on!"
"Oh honey!" Both Angela and Tiffani pulled Jordan into a group hug.
"We've all done stupid stuff. Us girls just need to stick together and
help each other out!"
"You just need some more experience with men," Tiffani said.
"Seriously," Angela agreed. "*Lots* more experience."
"Thanks," Jordan said. He keenly felt the female bodies pressed against
his own. The alcohol and the female contact was starting to turn his
libido into overdrive. And still he wasn't getting hard! And then
something strange happened...he realized that maybe he wanted another
session with the vibrator!
But, of course, Angela and Tiffani both wanted to go into his bedroom to
choose his nightie. He had two from Victoria's secret, a pale-pink
pleated one with a big satin ribbon in the front, and a sexy satin one
with black lace. Tiffani chose the pale-pink pleated one, because it
seemed more girly. Thank god Jordan was able to take off his Spanx and
his corset! After he put on the babydoll, he had to sit quietly while
the two girls gave him a quick makeover.
"Beautiful!" Tiffani declared, taking out her phone and snapping a
couple of selfies.
After Tiffani and Angela had changed into nightgowns (Tiffani changed
right in Jordan's bedroom! She just disrobed until she was just in
panties, before donning her nightie), they had all gone to Angela's
bedroom to play "Truth and Drink or Dare".
Sitting in Angela's bed with two other women, everyone dressed in sexy
nightgowns - Jordan's lust was just about boiling over.
* * *
"Truth and drink or dare," Angela asked Tiffani.
The two women, and Jordan, were now all in Tiffani's king-sized bed,
lounging on the extra pillows and comforters that Angela had pulled down
from the closet. Jordan noticed that Angela hadn't bothered to pick up.
There were her dirty clothes strewn everywhere, heaped into the comfy
chair in the corner, bras and stockings hanging over the standing
mirror, outfits (including what she wore today) thrown into the corner.
The room reeked of feminine smells. Makeup, human sweat, perfume, baby
powder, incense (Angela had lit a stick). How can she live in such a pig
sty? Jordan wondered. It didn't seem to bother Tiffani, however, who
looked perfectly at home.
"Truth and drink," Tiffany chose.
"But I thought it was just 'Truth or Dare'," Jordan complained. Things
were already starting to get a little too wild, and Jordan was already
feeling buzzed by Angela's margaritas, which seemed to be more of a
delivery excuse for tequila than anything else. More alcohol was the
last thing he needed right now.
"Pffsh," Angela snorted. "Too wimpy. Everyone chooses 'truth'. We need
to balance the scales a bit."
"So, Tiffani," Angela continued, "have you ever had anal sex and with
what? And be explicit!"
Tiffani took a drink.
"More than that!" Angela insisted.
"Oh my god!" Tiffani took a larger drink of her margarita, then
shuddered. "Shit that's strong! Okay, well I have never had Ben, up
there, I can tell you that! No way in hell. But, okay, I did experiment
with a past boyfriend who was not as... uh... big around. And *oh god*
it hurt at first, but then it was okay. He sure loved it! Not something
I need to do again, however. Okay, your turn, Jordan! Truth and drink or
dare!"
Jordan thought for a second. He was already feeling pretty buzzed, so he
didn't want to take another drink. And besides, he wasn't doing so well
with 'truth' recently! Every attempt to lie had turned out like a
disaster.
"Dare," Jordan said.
"ALL RIGHT!" The two women shouted. "Let's think of a good one."
Just then, the doorbell rang. It was the pizza delivery.
"Perfect!" Angela gloated, reaching into her purse for a $20 bill. "Just
absolutely *perfect*! I *DARE* you to go get the pizza, **dressed in
your babydoll nightgown**! And then--"
"What??" Jordan protested. "There's more??"
"AND THEN," Angela talked over him, "And then you have to offer to kiss
him!"
"But... but..." Jordan sputtered. He hadn't considered that the dare
would involve another MAN! Shit, shit, shit! He had just thought it
would be something stupid between the three ladies! What to do??
"Come ON, Jordan!" Tiffani dragged Jordan off the bed, thrust the 20-
dollar bill into his hands and pushed him towards the front door. "Do
it! Do it!"
Jordan, perhaps not in his right mind thanks to all of the tequila he
had drunk, staggered down the hall to the front door. Putting one hand
over his chest, he opened the door.
"Pizza deliver.... OH!!!"
"BOB???" Jordan gasped. It was the construction worker they passed every
day on the sidewalk!
"WHAT? BOB?" Angela pranced out of the bedroom and to the front door.
"Bob! What are you doing delivering pizzas?" she asked.
Bob, eyes wide as saucers seeing BOTH Jordan and Angela dressed in just
baby-doll nighties, sputtered for a good 90 seconds before he was
finally able to put together some coherent sentences. They could hear
Tiffani laughing hysterically from the bedroom.
"I... ah... well, ever since the wife left me," Bob started, "and...
uh... well, I just needed the extra income. What... (*cough*) with
alimony and everything..."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Bob!" Angela raced over and, unabashedly, gave Bob a
huge hug. "Well, today is your lucky day! You're up, Jordan!"
Angela pushed Jordan forward.
"Hey Bob," Jordan said. He was shaking. Why was he shaking?
"Hi, Jordan," Bob said. "Pacific Veggie Pizza. That'll be," Bob
consulted the side of the box, "$15.95."
"Here you go," Jordan handed over the twenty-dollar bill and received
the Pizza from Bob.
"I'll take that!" Angela said, snatching the pizza away from Jordan.
"Change?" Bob asked, in his voice you could hear that he was hoping for
a nice tip.
Angela poked Jordan.
"Uh, Bob?" Jordan stammered. Fuck! He thought to himself. What the FUCK
am I doing? Why did I choose 'DARE?'
"Yes?"
"Would you... uh... I can't believe I'm saying this...
wouldyoulikeakiss?" Jordan stammered, the words slurring together. Shit,
he was shaking like a leaf. What had he gotten himself into?
"What was that?" Bob looked genuinely puzzled.
"Ahem," Jordan cleared his throat. "Bob, would you like a kiss? Uh, in
addition to the tip." Jordan added, with a weak, frightened little
smile.
"Hell yeah!" Bob said, his face lighting up with a wide smile.
'Great,' Jordan thought. 'Shit. Well, a dare is a dare.' Jordan and
Jason used to dare each other all the time. That's how they ended up
sneaking into Steffi Gunderson's bedroom to steal her panties. To
Jordan, the 'Dare' was an inviolable code of conduct. To back down from
a dare would be to the worst kind of weakling.
And so Jordan stepped forward, but just as he was about to give Bob a
kiss on the cheek, Bob turned towards Jordan and planted a wet kiss
directly on his lips!
Fuck! He tasted of cigarettes and beer and smelled of drywall plaster,
and sawdust and epoxy. Bob was a bit pudgy and not at all sexy, and here
he was, Jordan, kissing him! It was not unpleasant, but it wasn't
especially exciting either. Mostly Jordan just wished it would be over.
It's when Jordan felt Bob's tongue pressing against his lips that he
finally pushed him away.
"Okay, Bob. That's enough," Jordan said, disentangling himself.
"Thank you, Jordan! Thank you Angela! This has been my best delivery
ever!"
Bob gave them both a deep, exaggerated bow, and then turned and walked
down the stairs back to his car, whistling.
"Well, you just made his day!" Angela said, her smile a mile wide.
* * *
After the delivery, things settled down a bit. Tiffani had brought a
Blu-ray of 'Magic Mike' and they lay in bed watching it on Angela's TV,
drinking margaritas and eating pizza, with frequent breaks to discuss
the muscled male strippers in the movie.
"Wouldn't you like to just run your hands over that beefcake?" Tiffani
teased Jordan.
"Uh... sure," Jordan said, blushing. He did his best to join in and make
comments like "so hot!" - feeling that if he didn't he might look
conspicuous to the other girls.
"Oh my god, I'm soooo horny," Angela had said at one point, pretending
to hump a pillow - causing Tiffani to break out in peals of laughter.
"Oh god, me too!" Jordan had said, which was absolutely true - although
it was more thanks to lying in bed with such curvy bodies in nighties
than watching muscled men on the screen. Although there were moments
when he compared their bodies to Matt's and then was blushing for real.
"What I wouldn't give to snort *his* sperm!" Angela joked, causing
Tiffani to laugh and snort a Jello Shot through her nose.
"Wouldn't you love to have that body pressed on top of you?" asked
Tiffani, later in the movie.
"Uh... sure!" Jordan tried to sound enthusiastic. He was supposed to be
a woman, after all.
"And... oh! that chest! Doesn't it make you just so horny?"
"So horny!" Jordan agreed.
And then, once the movie was over, of course they then had to watch
'Magic Mike XXL' the sequel, with more hot muscled men parading across
the screen and more ribald comments and pointed questions from Tiffani
and Angela.
"Oh my god, Channing Tatum!" Angela sighed, "Take me now!"
Finally, it was over. Jordan had had enough of dancing, oiled up,
muscled men for a lifetime.
"Time for bed," Jordan moaned. He was now seriously plastered, and
looking at Tiffani and Angela with blurry eyes.
"We need to finish Truth and Drink or Dare!" Tiffani insisted. "Where
did we leave off? Jordan! Truth and Drink or Dare!"
"Tiffani," Jordan moaned. "It's 2am! We have to get up for work in just
four hours!"
"Come on, just one more, please??"
"Fine. Truth and drink." For sure Jordan wasn't going to do another
dare!
"Cool. Drink!"
Jordan took a big swig of some weird vodka concoction that Tiffani had
whipped up. They had long since finished off the margaritas.
"Now, tell the truth. Have you ever kissed a girl?" Tiffani asked.
"Romantically?"
"Of course," Jordan said. "Lots of..." he halted, seeing both Tiffani
and Angela looking at him, eyes wide.
"What do you mean, 'of course'? You mean you've kissed a girl?" Angela
asked. "With tongue?"
"I...ah... I mean, well, sure. I practiced kissing," he tried to shrug
it off as if it were nothing. "With, ah, a high-school... uh...
girlfriend."
"With tongue?"
Jordan blushed. Of course he was thinking of Anna.
"OH MY GOD, YOU'VE KISSED A GIRL WITH TONGUE?" Angela said. She was
clearly drunk, saying things too loud and brash. "And here I thought you
led this sheltered life all this time? You've been holding out on me,
Jordan! I've never kissed a girl before. Except my mom, of course."
"Okay, okay, okay..." Tiffani said. "Now Angela: Truth and drink or
dare?"
"Dare."
"Excellent! Angela: Since you've never done it before, I dare you to
kiss a girl. Specifically, Jordan. And a real kiss, like a man!"
Angela look from Jordan to Tiffani and then back to Jordan again.
"Okay," she said. "Like a man? Okay!"
Angela stood up and pretended to grasp her belt and pull it up. Then she
swaggered around the room with big, cowboy-style steps, grunting and
pretending to spit.
"Hey, little lady," she said, to Jordan.
At this, even Jordan was in stitches.
Angela took a moment to adjust her crotch and then scratched her
armpits. By this time, Tiffani was gasping for breath she was laughing
so hard.
"I, ah, got me a hankerin' for them sweet lips of yours, Jordan. How
about I plant one on ya'?"
"Oh my," Jordan played along, "you are such a big strong man, Billy-Bob.
I guess ah couldn't resist yah even if ah wanted too! Make a woman outta
me!"
"Well then, missy, come here and surrender yourself to the stronger
sex!"
And with that Angela put her arms around Jordan, looked him straight in
the eye, and then...
... paused.
What's the matter? Jordan wondered, looking back. Angela hesitated.
But then they kissed, and Jordan closed his eyes and surrendered to the
stronger sex. Angela pressed their bodies together, the nightgowns
slipping smoothly against each other, as Jordan felt her warm lips on
his.
He whimpered.
"Woooooooo!!" Tiffani hooted, seeing the passionate kiss, and still
laughing with tears in her eyes.
When Angela finally broke off the kiss, Jordan looked in her eyes and
saw something...
But just as it was about to get awkward, Angela dropped Jordan to the
bed.
"Now that you been propr'ly kissed," she declared, "now I's off to go
kill sump'n."
"Oh!! Oh!!" Tiffani laughed harder than ever. "Oh, Angela! You're too
much! Oh, that's hysterical! Oh god... oh god...!"
Finally, Jordan collected his wits and stood up.
"And how did that compare to Steffi Gunderson?" Tiffani asked.
"Well, ah..." Jordan looked at Angela. What was he going to say? "It
was... uh... okay, I guess."
"Okay? Just Okay?" Tiffani teased.
"Listen, I need to go to bed. We'll have to get up in just a few hours!"
"Noooo!" Tiffani whined. "It's a slumber party! We're supposed to sleep
together! That's the whole point!"
"Let her go," Angela said. She looked confused.
"Oh... okay," Tiffani relented, sensing that something was wrong, but
not knowing what it was. "Well, Jordan, I hope you had a good slumber
party," Tiffani hopped up and gave Jordan a big hug, "even if we're not
actually slumbering together."
* * *
When Jordan finally got back to the guest bedroom, he dove for the
vibrator and quickly put it to work. Oh god he was so horny!! It had
been an entire evening of women on nightgowns and sex talk and naked
men.
And that kiss...
It was as if he could still feel Angela's warmth against his body, her
breasts pressed against his, her smooth legs between his own, her hair
brushing lightly across his face, her perfume....
And it made Jordan think of Anna. Oh god, how he wished she were here!
He was falling deeper and deeper into Angela's clutches, and he felt
horny all the time. And every day that he dressed as Jordan Nicole,
things were happening. Things were changing. And oh, god, was he horny!!
"Oh... Anna!" Jordan moaned. Jordan pressed his face into the pillow to
try and muffle his moans. He pushed the vibrator harder into his crotch.
"Oh, Anna!" He kept telling himself that the vibrations must be
mimicking sex, and it seemed to work as he was getting some release,
finally.
* * *
Tiffani, desperate to pee and drunk as a skunk, staggered past Jordan's
room, but stopped when she heard the vibrator going. Giggling silently,
she was just about to tip-toe away when she heard Jordan moaning.
What was that? Insatiably curious, she put her ear carefully against the
door.
At first, she just heard the vibrator and some moans. But then! A word.
A name! It started with "An" and then something muffled and then ended
with "a" It sounded like...
Tiffani eyes opened wide in shock and surprise. It was "Angela"! Jordan
was moaning Angela's name! Now Jordan is in love with Angela!! Oh no!
What have I done?
* * *
Meanwhile, Angela was lying in bed, eyes closed, mind racing.
'No, no, no, no!' she thought. 'This can't be happening! Jordan is
supposed to be dating Matt! They're supposed to fall in love and be a
loving couple! This isn't right! Why did I kiss her? Why? Why???'
Angela squeezed her ey