Anna free porn video

Anna Prologue: Setting Goals Ok, it's got to be here somewhere. I'm sure it's in the bottom desk drawer. Maybe in the folder labeled "personal papers." Damn, no. Ahh, found it! What's it doing in with my old tax returns? No matter, at least I found it, my life goals check list. Back in middle school, Ms. Becker assigned her class to write down their goals for the coming school year, and for extra credit, what your goals were for when you were twenty-five, a grownup. It was about that time of your life when you were supposed to start thinking about your future, what you wanted to do with your life. Most of the kids didn't bother with the extra credit. Guess they were still harboring the idea that they'd be professional athletes or some sort or princess. Serious student that I was, I gave this assignment a lot of thought. I already knew that I wanted to go to college and study literature (ok, probably didn't know what literature was back then, but I did know I was really interested in writing stories). Of course my parents were not thrilled with this goal (I'm sure they were envisioning me living in their basement as I struggled to write the great American novel while gathering life experiences as a waiter). Ironically that actually was one of the goals I listed. Not living in my parent's basement, but writing a book. Not a specific book, I didn't expect to write the great American novel on my first try (unlike my friend Marcus who listed wining the Super Bowl in his rookie year as one of his goals). I was searching for this remnant of my childhood because tomorrow was my twenty-fifth birthday. Over the years, I would revisit my list. There were a few items on it that were no longer realistic, like taking Beth Skyler to the high school prom. Beth was my best friend in grade school. But by middle school, she was, as they say, out of my league. While she was busy maturing into a young woman, I was busy staying a rather diminutive boy. A fact that her twin brother Blake often reminded me. He took great pleasure in refining his bullying skills on me. While he never physically tortured me, he was a master at social humiliation. I didn't dare get within ten feet of his sister. While I will occasionally check various social media sites to see what she's up to, a prom date has been edited out of my goals list. Surprisingly, last year I fulfilled my second to last goal. I had a book published. I am not waiting for an early morning call from the Nobel committee. However, I do have a respectable stream of cash coming from sales of my book, not to mention a retainer for a second book (so I only lived in my parent's basement for a couple of years and I never worked as a waiter). According to several critics I am "a promising new author and sure to be a favorite of romance fans everywhere." I am writing under the pseudonym "A. Meyers" because "Athelstan Meyers" sounded too bizarre to my publisher for a writer of romance novels whose target audience was women. My mother somehow had it in her mind that her family was descended from ancient English kings. The name "Athelstan" was apparently the name of one of her great great grandfathers. I always thought the genealogical web site she used was a bit suspect. I insisted on just being called "Al." Unfortunately, I once told Beth my real name, who told her brother, who in turn told anyone who would listen (which turned out to be every student in school). There is one last goal on my list and only one day left until I am twenty-five. It was the thing that got me sent to therapy and for not getting the extra credit I definitely deserved. "Goal #12: By the time I am twenty-five I will be a girl." Chapter 1: Reflecting and Acting That by itself might have slipped by as a practical joke by a student somewhat known for his creative writing. Where I might have gone a bit overboard was adding a detailed description of HRT, including drug names and dosages and GCS. My description of penile inversion vaginoplasty was, in retrospect, definitely too graphic for a middle school paper. In my defense, I just cut and pasted it from an article I found on the internet. Oh, wait, that's plagiarism, maybe that's why everybody was so upset. To their credit, my parents were the least upset. Anyone who would name a child "Athelstan," would have to lean towards accepting most anything. Since no other student read my paper (according to the school principal only poor Ms. Becker, one year from retirement, was traumatized), and since my parents had decided to consult a therapist, the school ended up taking a wait and see approach. Up until then, I hadn't experimented with wearing girl's clothes, mostly because I really didn't have access to any. Mom's clothes didn't appeal to me and I didn't have a sister or any girl cousins. No, that's not quite accurate, I did experiment a couple of times in grade school, with Beth. She dressed me in her things a number of times when I was playing at her house. I don't remember exactly what started it although I probably asked what it felt like to wear a dress or ballet flats. I think that's when her twin brother started to be my nemesis. He saw me once and then began teasing me. After learning about my transgender inclination, my mom bought me a few girl clothes in case I wanted to try wearing them around the house. One Saturday, I did put on a dress and shoes she bought (I was a little disappointed that she hadn't purchased any underwear), and came downstairs for breakfast. Mom and dad both desperately tried to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary. By the end of breakfast, the shock was gone and we were talking the way we always had. Later that morning I changed back into boy clothes to go outside and play. As I went out the door, my dad told me I looked nice earlier. Then he told me that mom and he would always love and support me. It was nice to hear but I wondered why. After all, they are my parents and that's what parents do. Unfortunately, as I learned about later in life that's not always true. I was one of the lucky ones when it comes to parents. The one thing my parents found a little confusing was that I wasn't gay (in the conventional sense). In an awkward attempt to have a "birds and bees" talk with me, they asked if there might be a special boy that I liked. Once I figured out what they were trying to get at, I told them, "No, I'm not attracted to boys, I like girls." I once overheard them asking each other "is our son a lesbian"? Because I had this goal, I assumed that eventually I'd reach it. I just didn't have a specific plan. My underdeveloped male physique resulted in me being misgendered from time to time. Which didn't bother me a bit. And as I let my hair grow, the more I loved hearing things like "Can I help you miss?" or when studying at the library with a friend, "Would you girls mind if I sit here?" So I didn't feel the need to wear frilly dresses and high heels to feel female. Not to say that I didn't explore feminine fashion. Throughout high school and college, any birthday or Christmas presents from parents and a few other relatives, added to my closet (although no one would ever give me lingerie, had to rely on Amazon for that). I was more or less dressing full time while writing my romance novel in my parent's basement. That is if you call pink t-shirts, yoga pants, and flip flops (with a cute bow), "dressing." I did go out occasionally a little more glammed up, with a little help from mom. I can't believe I just admitted that! What self respecting twenty-something woman would let her mother do her makeup? Once I moved into my own apartment, I came to the realization that my haphazard, no specific plan was no plan at all. My new bathroom had a full length mirror on the back of the door. After showering one morning, I was really hit hard by dysphoria when I glimpsed my naked body. After I calmed myself, I realized it was almost my birthday. Then I remembered my middle school list of goals had a deadline. After I found the list, I sat there for several minutes, staring at the one unchecked goal, number twelve, become a girl. I was starting to get tears in my eyes because I thought I'd failed. Tomorrow I would be twenty-five and I was not a girl. Sure, internally I knew I was a woman, but that wasn't what my middle school self expected. Then I reread it several times. First it said "be a girl." Hmm, "girl" or "woman"? The writer in me decided that the word choice of a, (what was I then twelve?), a twelve year old was a semantic problem. I didn't know back then that I should have said, "Identify as a trans woman." So I penciled in an edit. Next I realized that "twenty-five" when used to mean an age, was not a singular point in time. It covered a full year, 365 days! It was not too late! I've known for sometime that I could start HRT (letter from my therapist or by informed consent). So, determined not to waste one more minute, I looked up clinic locations and made an appointment for that afternoon. Next I decided that I needed help and that I needed friends. So I searched for transgender support groups. I was having trouble figuring out what were really support groups and what weren't. So I called mom. She never throws away anything. She'll have the number for the therapist I went to. I called the number that mom found, but my old therapist had moved, but fortunately my records hadn't. I had a lovely conversation with a woman who took the time to review them over the phone with me. She actually appreciated my attempt to fully explain what I meant by "be a girl" by graphically describing GCS. She gave me contact information for a local transgender support group. She was so helpful that I asked if I could see her if I found that I need some professional help. The next morning, I woke up and opened a birthday card laying on my nightstand. The envelope just said "Anna." Inside the birthday card was a gift certificate that I bought online and printed the night before. It was for a spa day and make over. On the bottom of the card I had written, "To Anna on your special day, Love Athelstan." It was the last time I ever used that name. Chapter 2: Happy Birthday to Me The therapist on the phone had given me the spa idea. She had suggested doing something special to celebrate my birthday. "Think of it as your re-birthday" she said. So I thought what better way to celebrate being a woman than to pamper myself for the day. On the website of the spa I selected, they very specifically mentioned that they welcomed women of all types, the description of their facilities used politically correct terms like gender neutral bathrooms, they welcomed walk-ins, and it was nearby. Right after I had my morning coffee and toast, I called the spa and asked if 10 am would a good time for a new walk-in client. Being a weekday morning, they immediately said said that was a perfect time. I somewhat hesitatingly asked what I needed to do since this was the first time ever going to a spa. "Simple instructions," she said, "wear casual clothes, no makeup, bring flip flops." Then I asked if there were any special instructions because I was trans. "Nope, same simple instructions. See you at 10 am. Oh and ask for Jen." Promptly at 10 am I walked into the spa, went to the reception desk and asked for Jen. "Oh, you must be Anna, I'm the one you talked to earlier. Welcome! Jen is getting ready for you. She'll be with you shortly. Would you like any mineral water while you wait?" "No, I'm fine, should I just sit over there?" "Please, there are magazines if you want. Our wifi connection information is on the table." I sat down across from another customer, an older woman, maybe in her 60s, fiddling with her phone. She glanced at me as I took out my phone and started to login to the spa wifi. The instructions were very cute. They were in an ornate picture frame. It had a drawing of a vintage lady (like from the 1930s) writing the wifi info with her lipstick. "Can you help me?" she asked. "I never can get this thing connected. You younger girls seem to be able to do it so easily." "Sure, be happy to." I moved over and sat down next to her. She started to hand me her phone, so I said, "You hold onto it. I'll walk you through it so you can remember the next time." "Thank you! My daughter is always so exasperated with me. She just grabs it and never shows me what to do." We went through the steps a couple of times until she had it down. "That was so nice of you," she gushed, "I'm Elizabeth. Did I accidentally overhear your name is Anna?" "Yes, nice to meet you Elizabeth." "Actually, just call me Lizzy, all my friends do." "Ok, Lizzy, got it." "So are you new here?" "Yep, first time, first time to any spa." "Really? Didn't your mom ever take you when you were a little girl, get you toes painted?" I laughed and said, "I wish," then decided that Lizzy didn't look like the type to be phased by much other than new technology. "When I was a little girl, I was a little boy." It took her a few seconds before she got it and then roared with laughter. "Well Anna, in that case I am going to make sure you get extra special attention. Heaven knows I've spent enough money here. You are with me!" What a fun day I had with Lizzy. I was massaged, oiled, exfoliated, moisturized, manicured, pedicured, waxed, buffed, and shined (well, maybe not the last two). I got a referral to a friend of Lizzy's that does facial hair removal (can't say that I'm looking forward to that but Lizzy assured me that I would survive it). I still had my makeover coming but it was time for Lizzy to leave. She gave me an enormous hug and told me she hadn't had that much fun in years, it was like having another daughter. We exchanged phone numbers (I showed her how to manage her contact list), and she immediately texted me a smiley face and a thumbs up emoji before she left. I absolutely loved how my hair and makeup turned out. What a difference a professional cut and coloring made. They kept telling me that I had really nice, feminine features. I was pretty sure is was just customer retention banter to make sure I came back and spend more money. But after staring at myself in the mirror and seeing how different I looked, I gave them the benefit of the doubt and gleefully accepted every complement. When I went pay, pulling out the gift certificate from my purse, they told me save it for the next time, and handed me a small handwritten card, "Happy twenty-fifth birthday, Lizzy." Chapter 3: Revealing Identities For the rest of the week, instead of working on my next book in my apartment, I took my laptop and wrote in a nearby coffee shop, the library, the park across the street, and for old times sake, my parent's basement. Mom and dad needed someone to watch their dog for a couple days while they were out of town for a wedding. They had not seen me for several months, having spent the winter somewhere warmer. After I rang their doorbell, small overnight bag and laptop in hand, mom opened the door and asked, "Can I help you?" "Mom? Are you going to let me in?" "Oh my god! Bruce come here quick!" "Why are you yelling?" "It's your daughter! You have got to see this!" It was like they'd never seen a woman in a sun dress and heeled sandals before. Ok, granted they'd never seen me in a sun dress and heeled sandals before. Or wearing bright red lipstick. Or with flowing hair with highlights. Or with... Ok I guess their reaction was to be expected. "Anna! You look gorgeous!" When I was living in the basement in my t- shirts and flip flops, mom would occasionally slip and use the wrong name. I had the distinct feeling that that was unlikely to ever happen again. "Bruce, take a picture of Anna and me, I need to put in on my Facebook page." "Dad, please, you don't have to..." Dad was not listening. I had to pose with him for his Facebook page. And then I had to take several selfies, surrounded by the two of them grinning. There are worse things in life to suffer through. Taking pictures with proud parents is not even on the list. They were planning on being on the road as soon as I got there, but the three of us ended up talking for almost two hours. When they finally left, I was feeling sorry for dad. For the next six hours, I was pretty certain he was going to be listening to my mother planning my wedding, and I don't even have a girlfriend yet. Mom probably has forgotten that little detail. I could just see my dad getting out of the car after six hours and saying, "By the way dear, you do realize it will be a lesbian wedding and there will be two mothers of the bride." So a week into my twenty-sixth year, I was pretty satisfied. I knew there were likely rougher weeks ahead, but so far so good. On Sunday I was going to my first transgender support group meeting at a local junior college. Being a writer had its plusses and minuses. On the plus side, I was my own boss. Transitioning at work would not be a problem. I checked with myself and I was ok with it. On the minus side, working alone left me, well, lonely. I hoped that the support group might give me a chance to make a friend or two. I also wanted to have some friends that were not trans (I did make a friend at the spa, but I didn't see myself bar hopping and going to concerts with Lizzy). I had lost contact with everybody I knew in high school and college. I hadn't bothered to keep my Facebook or any social media site updated, so other than family, no friends there either. I thought I'd error on the dressier side and wear business attire. But when I got there, I was the only one in a skirt and heels. Everyone else was in jeans or slacks, and one was in "boy mode." The group leader Andrea introduced two new members, myself and an attractive young woman about my age sitting next to me named Samantha. I said hi to her but for some reason she seemed preoccupied throughout the meeting. We were sitting in a circle and directly across from me another young woman about my age kept staring at me. It was making me a bit uncomfortable. Then I realized that she looked vaguely familiar. No, really familiar. Then it came to me. I slipped my phone out of my purse and looked for Beth's Facebook page. The last time I looked was two years ago, but it was still there. The most recent pictures were from last year, several of her and another girl at a bar, holding hands and kissing. I recognized the bar name in the background, a local gay and lesbian hangout. The pictures were a little dark, but clearly the woman sitting across from me bore a striking resemblance, she was just a bit more masculine looking. It hadn't occurred to me until now, but the support group wasn't for just trans women. It was also for trans men. Beth must be on male hormones and here in "girl mode"! I tried to peek at her name tag, but most of it was covered by a scarf. But clearly the first letter was a "B." I put away my phone just as the group was taking a fifteen minute break. I looked up and saw Beth coming towards me. Just before I was about to say "Hi Beth" I saw her name tag, it said "Bianca." Whoever this really was, smiled and said, "Long time no see. How are you," then she leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Athelstan?" Fuck, it wasn't Beth, it was Blake. Bianca was Blake. She giggled (ok, my old nemesis giggling was really weirding me out), smiled nicely (nicely?!) and said, "Let's go across the hall and get some coffee from the vending machine. I need to apologize to you for quite a few things." I couldn't believe it but I think she was about to cry. "I'm so sorry for the way I treated you back then. Let's start with the obvious, I am trans just like you. Unlike you, I knew we both were back then." "What?" I said. "I'm trying to explain. When I caught you trying on one of Beth's dresses in her room, I was angry because that was my favorite dress, The one Beth always let me wear. But I didn't want anyone to know that. If you kept coming over, eventually Beth would have told you. That's why I was so mean to you, I was desperate to keep you away from Beth." "I guess I understand. Forgive me if I'm having a hard time processing all of this." "Girl, I don't blame you at all. Take your time." "Ok, what's with this 'I knew back then' and what time is it, shouldn't we be heading back?" "Oh, don't worry, it always takes Andrea an extra 15 minutes to round everyone up. So, remember that kid you hung with, Mark, or was it Marcus?" "Marcus, yes." "Well he saw your goals, right?" "Not that I knew of, but I saw his so he maybe saw mine." "Yeh, trust me, he saw them. And blabbed them." "Everything? Even the, ahh, even the ahh..." "No, just the wanting to be a girl. Although, there were rumors about something that got you in trouble." "You must mean the graphic description of pineal inversion vaginoplasty?" "What!! You are kidding! That is so much better than I even imagined! Wow, I am impressed." "You should be. I was quite proud of that paper. Too bad the school wasn't." "I am so mad at myself. You and I could have really been a force to deal with. I'm so sorry." "You know, forget about it, I think I am beginning to like you. I mean Bianca, not certain about Blake yet." "No problem, I never liked him either. Oh one more thing, I know there was something about taking out my sister, is that right?" "Yes, but I think I know why that was never going to happen regardless of your interference. Beth is gay, right." "Yes, how did you know?" "For awhile there, I thought you were Beth. I looked at her Facebook page, and before you say anything, I used to look at it because I missed her. So I looked at her pictures with her girlfriend when I noticed you staring at me. I thought you were..." "Wait, wait, please tell me you thought Beth was a trans man!" "Ok, yes I did, but only for a minute or two." "Long enough honey." "I'm sensing that Bianca has a bit of a mean streak too." "No no, a playful streak, and only when it concerns my twin sister." "Ok, one last question before we head back. How did you ever recognize me? I don't look anything like I did when we were in school." "I was stalking you. Just kidding, sort of. Andrea sends out a news letter, you'll start getting them. It mentioned you, Anna Meyers. It was just too close to your old name. Tried to see if you had a Facebook or other social presence. Didn't see anything but just by chance saw your mother's page with her beautiful daughter Anna." After the group meeting, Bianca and I (I am going to have trouble for a while with the idea that Bianca I are likely going to end up being really good friends) went out for a drink or two (or three). Oddly enough, besides being trans, we discovered that we were both English literature majors. She is a big fan of Shakespeare, hence the origin her picking "Bianca" for a new name. I was saddened when I found out that Beth and her were basically thrown out of their parent's home. They didn't know about either Beth being a lesbian or Bianca being trans until the end of freshman year in college. Beth came home first. Her parents were screaming at her because they found a picture of her girlfriend at the time and her kissing. Bianca arrived home during the big fight. She had spent the entire school year as Bianca without telling her parents, although Beth had known. Sadly, their parents were not the supportive type. Beth and Bianca went back to school and haven't been in contact with their parents since. They were lucky however to each have a sizable trust fund from a grandparent. They managed to graduate with a small nest egg left over. They pooled their money and invested in a local gay and lesbian bar (they own 67%). So, all in all, things are ok for them. In particular, Bianca was feeling happy to have purged the last thing tormenting her when she found me and apologized. Needless to say I was feeling pretty good too. Especially after that third drink I definitely should not have had. Bianca had gotten around to asking, "so what are you doing to pay the bills?" Finding out that I was the author of "Lust in the Library" (not my title, my publisher came up with it) made me a minor celebrity in her mind and started planning a "meet the author" book signing night at her bar. Before calling it a night, we made a date for next Friday night. Beth is always at the bar on Fridays taking her turn as manger. Bianca was absolutely ecstatic thinking about seeing how long it would take her to recognize me. I was ecstatic thinking about finally seeing Beth again. Chapter 4: Recognitions I made an appointment for Friday afternoon at the spa to have my makeup done and for a blowout. I was getting pretty good with makeup, but for this occasion I wanted to make sure it was perfect, something really dramatic and sexy. Something to complement the incredibly expensive dress and shoes I bought. I wasn't sure yet if I was trying help Bianca fool Beth or if I was trying to attract Beth. "Wow," Bianca exclaimed when she picked me up, "I might have to re- evaluate my preference for men. Anna, you look so hot!" "So, do you have a plan or are we just making things up as we go?" I asked, getting into her car. "Well, I had two ideas. Since I started taking hormones, we've both noticed that I'm starting to look more and more like her. Sometimes I'm mistaken for her." "Like I did the at group the other day," I interjected. "Exactly. While I am thrilled, Beth not so much. More than once a woman at the bar has hit on me thinking I was Beth. Sometimes I can't resist playing along and pretend I am Beth, like in that movie..." "Parent Trap," I said. "That's it." "So, from her perspective, you might have messed up a possible friendship or romantic partnership. How would you feel if she pretended to be you and hit on men?" "I never thought about it that way. You're so right. Forget idea one, I was going pretend I was Beth and have you pretend to hit on me." "Definitely a really bad idea," I said, "from now on, as your friend who's known you for better and worse, mostly worse, please feel free to ask my opinion about things like this." "My therapist told me I sometimes have trouble with empathy, thanks. Be prepared to offer a lot of opinions." I just smiled and asked, "What was the other idea?" "I tell Beth a woman saying that she's an old friend asked about her. You just sit at table and stare at Beth, maybe wink and flirt a little until she guesses who you are." "Perfect." I've been at the bar now for almost an hour. Bianca told Beth about the old friend and then disappeared leaving Beth to constantly scan the bar looking for someone she knows. I can see Bianca hiding behind a curtain in the lounge. She's giggling every time Beth walks by my table, takes a look, and moves on. For the last ten minutes I started staring at her and occasionally batting my eye lashes. I'm having to stifle giggling myself, watching Beth, standing behind the bar, stare at me trying to figure out who I am. Finally she walked over to my table, and asked, "Are you enjoying yourself?" I nodded yes. "Mind if I join you?" I said, "No, please sit." She looked at me carefully and asked if I wanted anything and I said, "No." Then she smiled and said, "Are you sure? Maybe you would like to try on one of my dresses, or maybe my shoes." I nodded yes and started crying uncontrollably, Bianca ran to me from behind the curtain. Beth had her arms wrapped around me. Half the crowd was looking at us, some clapping. "Anna, Anna are you ok?" Bianca said when she reached me. Beth pulled back and dabbed away some tears from my face with a napkin. "Do I call you Anna now?" she asked. I managed a rather weak, "Please," after getting control of my sobbing. Bianca suggested we get a little privacy and use the manager's office. As we passed the bar, Bianca motioned to the bartender who promptly produced a bottle of champagne and three glasses. "So how did you figure it out? In no way does she look anything like..." "Bianca, no," I interrupted, "do not say that name!" "Anything like a little boy." Bianca looked at me. "That ok?" "Other than it sounds weird, yes." Beth laughed. "I cannot fathom this. When, how did you two get together?" "Anna joined my support group last Sunday. We sort of recognized each other." Bianca looked to me and asked, "Can I?" "Go ahead, she's your sister." "Anna thought I looked familiar and checked your Facebook picture. Sorry, but she thought I was you." "Damn it Bianca. You have got to change your hair or something. You were a marginally ok twin brother, but we're too old for this twin sister shit." "It wasn't her fault, she wasn't impersonating you, it was a simple mistake." "Wait a second," Beth turned to me, "you're defending the person who tormented you for years?" "Yeh," I shrugged my shoulders, "weird isn't it. I'm still trying to figure out why I like her." "I had her at hello," chimed in Bianca. "Obviously it's not her sense of humor," I said. Bianca pouted, then said, "Back to the original question." "Yeh, well, given her sense of humor, I first thought you were a red herring, some mysterious stranger to distract me while Bianca and maybe an old girlfriend of mine were laughing their heads off. When I couldn't spot anyone I recognized, I figured you might be someone from high school or college under that glammed up makeup. By the way, did you do that yourself?" "No, got it done at this cute spa that I found." "Can you give me the name? They did a great job on you." "Focus Beth," said Bianca. "Shush! Eventually I ran out of ideas. But as you kept batting your eyes at me, it finally dawned on me. When you would put on one of my dresses, you would strike a pose and bat your eyes." "Wait! No fair, you gave her a hint!" Bianca tried to say this as if she was offended, but clearly she was about to giggle. "Of course I did! Beth was my first best friend," I said as I gave her another hug. I turned to Bianca. "And you deserve a hug too for fixing things." "Well she did break them originally, but, yes, you've done a very nice thing, thanks sis!" Chapter 5: Getting to Know You Unfortunately Beth did have a bar to run that night. Besides we were getting a little claustrophobic in that tiny office. When the live entertainment started, we got tired of shouting to be heard. Besides, there was no reason we had to catch-up on several years of experiences in one evening. I invited Beth and Bianca over to my place on Sunday afternoon for tea (I think they knew I meant wine). Surprisingly, Bianca decided to exercise her newly found empathy and suggested that just Beth and I get together. Bianca and I stayed at the bar for a couple of hours. The later it got, the more crowded the bar got. I also became more and more aware that I was attracting a lot of attention. In my designer dress and heels, I was really over dressed for the venue. Bianca's advice was, "If you got it, flaunt it." Interestingly, I thought this bordered on sage wisdom, thanked Bianca and hit the dance floor with a young college girl who thought I was exotic. I kind of lost count of the number of dances after awhile. Besides neophyte lesbians, I was exotic to old dykes, a few gays (I think they might be aspiring drag queens), and a straight guy who even after I told him I was trans, tried to ask me out. I introduced him to Bianca. The two of them were still going strong when I ran out of gas. I gave her one last hug, whispered be careful in her ear, and told her I was calling a cab. I'm not exactly the neatest person in the world. I picked up several bad habits living in my parent's basement. So I needed to spend my entire Saturday cleaning. I briefly entertained the idea of calling Lizzy to see if she could recommend a maid service. But in the end I decided that cleaning up after myself was a good character builder. I overslept Sunday morning. Didn't get up until 10 and Beth was coming at noon. I had a really terrible time deciding what to wear. Beth had seen the best I can possibly look Friday night. I was hoping seeing me in daylight in jeans and a top, hair in a pony, and almost no makeup would not be a disappointment. Then I remembered that this was about two old friends catching up. It was not about trying to impress her so that I could ask her out, even though that was something I've wanted to do since middle school. My buzzer sounded one minute before noon. She was in the lobby. I met her at the elevator because the apartment numbering makes absolutely no sense in this building. She had on a simple white dress and ballet flats. It took me no time at all to pick up on her hint. The dress and shoes were like the ones she used to let me try on. We got ourselves comfy on my couch and settled in with our tea and a plate of biscottis (actual tea, neither of us felt like drinking). We chatted for a good four hours with several breaks, having gone through two pots of tea and an unknown number of biscotti (we were both afraid to know how many calories we'd consumed). We're breaking out the wine and ordering takeout for delivery. So here is a recap of some of the things I learned. After Marcus blabbed about my desire to be a girl, Blake had put out the word that I was "off limits," that only he could harass me. So in effect, he likely protected me from worse. Also, since I'm not a sports fan, I found out that Marcus did not win the Super Bowl. But he was just promoted to principal dancer at the city ballet. Beth thought I would not have wanted to take her out in high school if I had known what "a bitch" she had become. She and her small clique of friends were pretty nasty to everyone, hoping to deflect attention because they were having sex with each other. Once Bianca makes up her mind she goes all in. A month before leaving for college, Blake who tried to hide his transgenderism for years, asked Beth for help buying a complete new wardrobe suitable for a coed, said to call her Bianca after the Shakespeare heroine, told her she already talked to the college administration about changing her registration information and made appointments with the school's health clinic. It was Bianca's idea to buy into a failing lesbian dive. They changed the name (to the 101 Cafe) and advertised it as an upscale LGBTQ bistro with entertainment on weekend nights. Beth confessed they are not just doing "ok," they are doing very well. While nibbling on our takeout, Beth bats her eyes at me and asks, "So, when are you going to ask to try on my dress?" I bat my eyes in return. "How about now, can I try on your dress?" Beth stands up, turns her back to me and tells me to unzip her. She faces me, puts her hands on the shoulders of the dress and slowly pulls it off. She is not wearing anything underneath, no bra, no panties. She kicks off her flats saying, "Here, try these on too." Ok, in no way was I expecting that. Beth sees the startled look on my face. "You were trying to attract me, wearing that sexy outfit and perfect makeup weren't you? This is to let you know, it worked. I was getting pretty jealous watching you on the dance floor." She cradles my face in her hands and gives me the kiss I've been dreaming of since middle school. She lifts off my top and unbuttons my jeans. I'm standing in my bra and panties. "Don't be nervous Anna, before we go any farther, you should know I've been with a trans woman before, I make no distinction, if I'm attracted, I'm attracted and I am very attracted to you." I slowly remove my bra. I'm looking at Beth's breasts and I'm, well, envious. Beth takes my bra and throws it to the floor. "Sorry, I took my first hormones yesterday and I guess they don't work instantly," I say shyly. Beth laughs, plays with my hair staying, "Give them time, you'll have tits in no time. Look at Bianca's rack." Now I'm really nervous. I grasp the waist band of my panties. I ask, "Did that woman still have, ahh, you know...." "No, she'd had the surgery, the penile..." "She told you! Bianca told you!" I shrieked. "Now that you're back in our lives, always remember to be careful what you say around either of us," she winked, leaned in, pressing her tits against me, grabbed my panties, whispered in my ear, "No more stalling," and pulled them down, letting them fall to the floor. "There now, much better, we're both naked and the world didn't end. You know. I've watched you try on my clothes before. Let's just go to your bedroom and have sex. That work for you?" Chapter 6: Getting to Really Know You It is definitely working for me! At age twenty-five I am a rank amateur at sex. A couple of clumsy trysts in college are all that are on my resume. Beth is a professional. Oh wait, that sounds completely wrong. Beth is an experienced lover. Still sounds wrong, but let's go with that. That first kiss she gave me? That's nothing compared to what we did in bed. "Just do what I do," she coached me. She slipped her tongue into my mouth, then she parted her lips inviting in my tongue. She opened her mouth widely, and I did the same, pressing them tightly together. I guess we were pretty sloppy given how wet our face were, but I was so turned on I hadn't even noticed that she was gently playing with my penis. She took my hand and guided it, down between her legs. I pressed against her mound and applied pressure on her clit, massaging it with the heel of my hand. We laid on my bed, kissing, entwined, giving each other pleasure. I think I lost my amateur status when Beth climaxed, yelling, "Fuck! Anna! That was so fucking great!" We separated and laid next to each other. Beth chuckled when she noticed a small amount of cum on my tummy. "I see I wasn't the only one who really enjoyed that!" I grinned and stretched out across the bed. "Mmm hmmm." "Sit tight lover, be right back!" Beth ran out to the living room, tits bouncing. "Ok, not sure if this is something you like, but Bianca suggested taking it along in case you do." In her hand she was holding a vibrator. "And don't give me that look. Who better to ask?" "You mean my happy look?" "So, want to let me, you know?" "I've never put a vibrator in me, just a small dildo. But if Bianca endorses it..." Then I asked, "would you like me to put my ahh, something in you?" "Do you want to?" "Not really." "That's ok dear, I really would prefer if you just put your fingers in me, I'd like that a lot." Then Beth moaned, "Shit, I forgot the lube." "Top drawer of the dresser," I giggled. Soon she was playing with my ass hole, slowly pushing the vibrator in. It felt really good, just like my toy. Then she flipped on the switch. OMG! Thank you Bianca! "That trans woman I was with absolutely loved a vibrator in her vag. I wonder if I should have tried it in her ass. Maybe I should try in my ass," Beth said teasingly. "I'm just hopping someday you'll be able to put it in my vagina." I think Beth caught a glimpse of a tear in my eye. "That will be a special time for both of us." So speaking of vaginas (vagina monologues?), I was ready to explore Beth's. She was really wet. She pulled her lips apart told, me to insert two fingers, turn them over and try to locate her g-spot. When I found it, she had her OMG moment, especially when I added sucking on her clit. "Mmmm, I love how you taste," I said looking up at her. Beth shook her head, laughed, and said, "I'm glad. It's kind of a prerequisite for a lesbian. And before you worry about it, you'll taste pretty much the same." After we kissed good bye and Beth headed home, I went to my desk and pulled out my list of goals. I took a pencil and under the lined out goal about Beth and prom I wrote, "Have sex with Beth Skyler." Took a look at what I just wrote and inserted the word "amazing." Then I put a check mark after it. Chapter 7: New Stories A little more than six months later I finished my second book and sent the first draft to my publisher. The editor only had a few suggestions to make, and suggested I come into his office to go over them and to brainstorm possible titles and cover artwork. Brandon had also worked on my first book, but we never met in person, conducting all business via email. Of course back then I was still a fledgling trans woman, pretty much hiding in her parent's basement. Now I was over halfway through my year as a twenty-five year old, halfway towards satisfying a twelve year old boy's dream. Since the first book was published using "A. Meyers" as the author, we decided not to change it for the second. However, Brandon asked me to sit for some publicity photos because he thought we should put a bio on the book jacket. From a public relations perspective he wanted readers to learn I was trans from me and not some internet troll. Also the uniqueness of a trans woman writing romance would give us more press. For years, some romance writers were men writing under a female pseudonym and it never affected their book sales. Good stories sell regardless. And Brandon really thought I had another good story. He especially liked the secondary character who acts as a devious matchmaker to get the central man and woman characters to fall in love. That character was the brash, smart ass sister of the woman and the comic relief. The character is revealed to be trans. Sort of a modern day take on a Shakespeare comedy. When Bianca proofread the manuscript for me, she was absolutely delighted. "That's me, that's me!" She actually asked me to change the character's name to Bianca, but I left is as Breanna. Since my first book was a surprise success, Brandon wanted to leverage that and have me do book signings. When I mentioned that I had a friend who owned a bistro/bar/cafe and had been begging me to do exactly that, Brandon was all for it. Even more so when he found out which bistro, because he thought it would be the perfect demographic for this book. If I keep hanging around Brandon I'm afraid I'll start sounding like him. If I drop the word "demographic" around Beth she might revoke my "pussy eating privileges" for a week. By the way, I am actively working towards making it so that I can give her the same privileges. Pretty much have narrowed down my choice of a surgeon. I'm still envious of the Skyler twins tits, but they both said no to getting a boob job until until I've given the hormones more time. A week before publication, I took Brandon to meet Beth and Bianca so that they could negotiate the book signing event. About ten minutes into the meeting, Brandon sat back in his chair, pointed at Bianca, smiled and said, "It's you isn't it, you're Breanna, right?" Brandon turned to me, saying, "You really captured her. I can see a whole series, centered on this character!" "Oh, oh no no no," Beth said looking at me, "she'll be absolutely insufferable if you do that!" "Now wait a minute sis, I've changed my hair color, makeup, stopped copying your style, most people don't even know we're sisters now. I could be famous without it affecting you one bit." "You mean infamous don't you?" Beth retorted. Brandon just sat there, mesmerized by the two of them. "You know, now I'm envisioning a sitcom about you two!" "Get to know them first, you might change your mind" I cautioned Brandon. "I'd love to," he said staring at Bianca, who was batting her eyes at him. She's stealing my thing! "Let me show you the place, I think our lounge will be the perfect place for the book signing," Bianca stood up and grabbed Brandon's hand, "it's this way. You two sit, you've already seen the lounge." "Poor Brandon, he doesn't have a chance," sighed Beth, "she had him at hello." "He is definitely smitten. What is it with you Skyler women? I fall in love with you in middle school, Brandon falls in love with Bianca at first sight." "Are you complaining my love?" "Not in the least!" "It is a two way street, we fall in love too. You are the one and only woman I have ever fallen in love with. And if I read my sister, she is about to fall in love too." On the night of the book signing, Beth, Bianca, and I decided to go all out. I wore that expensive dress and shoes again for anyone in the crowd who might have been there that Friday night, recognizing me as that exotic woman. The young college girl I danced with was in line with her current girlfriend, proudly telling her how she had danced with me, and then asked for a selfie with them, each kissing me on a cheek. Beth was standing near, managing the signing line. She had bought a special dress, a red satin gown, and four inch pumps, looking like the girl on the cover of my new book. She even took her hair out of her signature pony and had the spa color it a dark blonde. I can't wait until this night is over so that I can tell her how much I love her, and ask if I can try on her dress. About an hour into the signing, Beth brings the next person in line up to the table. I ask my now well worn question before even looking up, "Who can I make this out to?" "Just make it out to your mom, dear." So there was mom, dad, two of my grandparents, mom's sister along with two of my cousins (my thirty something guy cousins in a gay bar waiting in line to say hi to their transgender woman cousin!). They all gathered around me and then Bianca and Brandon emerged from the crowd and started taking photos. Mom even made sure to pull Beth into the picture, calling her "my future daughter-in-law." I was about to tell her to stop but Beth just batted her eyes at me and blew me a kiss. Bianca looked at the photos Brandon took, gave Beth a thumbs up, and the two disappeared back into the crowd, holding hands. After the signing, my family stayed around for a good hour or so. Dad was even enticed onto the dance floor by a "delightful young woman." I don't have the heart to tell him she was part of the bar's drag act. Beth and I were relaxing at a corner table. She had her heels off and her aching feet in my lap being massaged. After a while, we noticed that we hadn't see Bianca and Brandon for quite sometime. Beth asked me to look around, maybe check the office. "Here, want to wear these?" holding up her stilettos." I declined, for now. I looked everywhere for them before checking the office. Before I opened the door, I could hear a male voice mumbling, "Yes," over and over. I had a good idea what I'd find behind the door, so I knocked, waited ten seconds and peeked in. Brandon was sitting sheepishly behind the desk, his pants clearly on the floor, off to the side. Bianca was sitting nonchalantly on the desk, her lipstick a little smeared. "Oh, there you guys are. Sorry to interrupt but Beth and I are exhausted and her feet are killing her. We're going to take off and head for my apartment. She's just going crash there so don't worry. Say, Brandon, you should just crash at the girl's place, keep Bianca company. By the way Bianca tells her sister everything, trust me, I've learned the hard way. And her sister tells me everything. The good news, it just stays between the three of us. Well maybe now the four of us." Bianca is just shaking her head at me. "Thanks for covering that for us Anna, but Brandon is going to need medical treatment if you don't give me another two minutes with him," she looks at Brandon holding up a hand, "make that five minutes." "Did you find them?" Beth asks. "Yeh, in the office, giving him a blowjob." "Ok, did you tell her they can have the apartment and I'll go to your place?" "Yup, all taken care of." "Thanks, I already called the Uber, be here in five minutes." "Good timing. Hand me your shoes and purse, I'll carry them for you." Chapter 8: Morning Afters Poor Beth was almost sound asleep by the time I got her to bed. It was quite a struggle getting her out of that gown. I was tempted to let her sleep in the corset she wore underneath, but decided she would sleep much better if her tits were freed. I slipped out of my dress and removed my bra and freed mine too (Beth says they are getting perky). Then I crawled into bed, cuddled next to Beth and fell asleep. In the morning, I woke up to see Beth standing in her panties looking out the bedroom window, coffee cup in hand. "Morning sweetheart," she said, "I made a pot of coffee, I'm just admiring the view." "I'm enjoying the view from here!" "Nice try, but we both have work to do today. Besides, my feet still hurt, think I have a blister, and I'm sure they stink." "You take a shower and I'll fix some breakfast." "Thanks, love you." "Love you too." After her shower and after applying a bandaid to her heel, Beth realized she only had a red gown to wear. She went through my closet and found something to wear. However, my shoes were a little too tight (I'm a half size smaller than Beth) for someone with a painful blister. So she ended up with a well worn pair of flip flops. "You should keep a few things here," I said. "Good idea, what should I bring over?" "How about everything?" "Hmm, that sounds like a good solution. Think Bianca would mind living by herself?" "Pretty sure she won't mind, probably find someway to keep herself occupied." "So we're living together now?" I asked. "Guess we are. You ready to see me in the morning every day?" "You mean It gets worse than this morning?" "It could." "I'm up for the challenge." We kissed. For a long time. We were interrupted by Beth's phone. "Good morning Bianca, what's up?" "Beth! Help! I don't know what to do." "What's wrong, is the DVR screwed up again?" "No! This is serious, I think I'm in love!" Beth turns to me, "she thinks she's in love." "We called that one," I said. "Who is that? Is that Anna?" "Who else would it be? I'm in her apartment. Actually now it's hers and mine, but, never mind that. Let me put us on speakerphone." "Hi Bianca." "Oh, hi Anna." "Ok sis, start from the beginning." "Actually start from the blowjob in the office last night," I interjected. "Sure, why not. So Brandon had more staying power than we estimated, at least double. Then he asked me if he could return the favor. No, no, that's not how he phrased it. He was such a gentleman, he asked how he could make me feel as good. No sense being coy, so we took your suggestion and came here, to our place." "Wait! Are you moving in with Anna? Is this just my place now? Can I afford that?" "Focus Bianca. You do the books. You can afford to buy the whole building." "Oh, right. What was I thinking? Oh and congratulations you two! This is so exciting, we should have a moving party..." "Focus again Bianca." "Right, so we came here and instead of just running to the bedroom and fucking, he asked me to sit down while he went to the kitchen and made us some tea. We sat and talked for an hour. about literature, our favorite plays, growing up (mostly my childhood struggles), all before he suggested adjourning to the bedroom. He really said, "Let's adjourn to your room." Then he shocked me by slowly helping me undress and then asking where I kept my pajamas. He brought me a pair. He stripped down to his underwear, pulled back the covers, got in bed and I laid next to him. He kissed me and said that we both were tired and likely drank more than we should have. Then he said, 'if in the morning you still want me to make love to you, I will do so with all my heart.'" "Wow," Beth and I said together. "I know, Brandon doesn't just edit romance novels, he lives them. Because when I woke up this morning, he was still there. He was awake just looking at me. I looked at him just said, 'Yes.' We kissed, he nibbled on on my earlobes, played with my nipples, and stroked my penis. When I went to hold his cock, he chuckled and said, 'no no, this is about you this time'. He asked what I wanted so I showed him my vibrator. He slowly inserted into my ass and gave me repeated deep thrusts. He knelt between my legs, spread open, turned the vibrator on, continued to rhythmically thrust it in and out while stroking my penis. When I was nearing an orgasm he took a condom from the top of my nightstand, put it on. As soon as he pulled the vibrator out he pushed his cock in." "I have to tell you guys, that was the best sex I've ever had." "So what is the crisis?" Beth asked. "I'm afraid I'll fuck it up. Like I did to Anna, like with our parents." "Listen Bianca," Beth started, "you are not that person anymore. You are an intelligent, successful woman, a confident, outgoing, funny, trans woman. That's the person Brandon likes. He's the one who is probably worrying about fucking it up!" Chapter 9: Setting Goals A little over a week ago, on my 350th day as a twenty-five year old, I had my GCS. A couple of days ago, my crack team of nurses (Beth, Bianca, and mom) brought me back to the hospital to have the bandages removed. All in all, the pain as been manageable. I think my overwhelming feeling of calm, at peace with my body, is helping with that. I hope that continues as I use my dilators. Bianca threatened to bring earplugs if I scream too loud. After the bandages were off, they gave me a mirror to check myself out. But at the last second I asked Beth to look first. She came around, next to the doctor, took a long, contemplative look. "What, what is it?" I said somewhat concerned. "It's a vagina, silly! Also a clitoris, vulva, yep it's all there, a little swollen, but looks pretty good to me." "Can I see, can I see?" Bianca asked without waiting for an answer. "Nice job doc, two thumbs up! Bet my sis here can't wait to try it out." "You had to say that, didn't you?" Beth said. "Don't worry," the doctor laughed, "that's far from the first time I've heard that one." "Well I'm not going to be left out, I was there for the first reveal," mom said. "Oh my," she looked at me, tears in her eyes, "it's a girl." I took the mirror. It was my turn to start tearing up. On the day before my birthday, Beth and I were alone in our apartment, having a romantic dinner (it was the first time since surgery that I felt like dressing up and celebrating). When I sat down at our table, Beth handed me a glass of wine, gave me a kiss and then handed me three envelopes. "What are these?" I asked. "You'll see, open the the one on top first." Inside the first envelope was a birth certificate. My new one, with my correct name, and correct sex, female. "It came in the mail yesterday," Beth said smiling. Inside the next envelope was my middle school list of goals. "It took me forever to find it. Why do you keep it with your old tax returns?" I took it out. Item 12 now had a large black check mark next to it. At the bottom of the page was an additional line saying "extra credit awarded to Anna Meyers, witnessed on this date by," followed by Beth's, Bianca's, and mom and dad's notarized signatures. "I don't know what to say." And I really didn't. In the last envelop was a new list, "Anna and Beth will complete the following goals by the time we celebrate our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary." Beth took the envelope and tipped it upside down, a ring fell out. "Will you marry me?" Beth asked. I think I surprised her when I didn't immediately answer and instead said, "One second..." ran over to my desk (make that walked gingerly, still recovering) and took a small box from a drawer. "Yes! And will you marry me?" opening the box and taking out a ring. "Yes!" As we exchanged rings, Beth asked, "Did Bianca tip you off?" "No, but she did tell me how romantic it would be if we got engaged before my birthday." "She told me the same thing!" We couldn't stop ourselves from laughing at the idea that Bianca was was trying to play matchmaker, until we realized we both had taken her hint. As we kissed and hugged, Beth whispered in my ear, "Remember the little impromptu farewell sex we had last month to say goodbye to your..." "Yes..." I started, as Beth placed her finger on my lips, then pointed to the first goal on the list. "Have a baby."