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Sheena's New Girlfriend byWriter345 1. The Orphanage. I'd known Sheena for years: we'd been at school together, only she wasn't Sheena then. Yes, she's been my best friend since I left the Army and we've stood by each other through thick and thin. When Sheena walks into a room, she is the instant centre of attention: 5'10" tall, slim, fantastic face and figure and long wavy golden hair that hangs down her back, almost to her shapely and well padded arse. Sheena attracts attention like jam attracts wasps... Sometimes she gets stung and its me she comes crying to. She also attracts girls as well as blokes and when things go wrong guess who do you think she comes running to? Me! That's who! The other blokes always wonder why I'm not attracted to her and why she's not my girlfriend, or as we say in the UK: 'My bit on the side.' The ones that don't know me wonder if I'm gay because of this: some of them are a bit disappointed when they find out I'm not. But that's another story: this one's concerned with my best female friend. Yes, I'm more than happy to describe Sheena in that way. My wife, Andrea, knows the full story: Sheena was a Bridesmaid at our wedding and I was Best Man at hers. It's a long, complicated story which I'll try to tell without giving away any information that might embarrass anyone, so pretty well everything has been changed... Names, dates, ages, locations, facts, appearances: I've spent too much of my life protecting Sheena so I'm not going to expose her to ridicule now. Okay, Sheena, Sheena, Sheena...! Let's go back to the beginning: I'm about four years older and like Sheena, I'm an orphan, I think. Either way I have no close family. I was sixteen and had been in care for ten years ever since the house fire that killed my parents: by the time that Sheena was put into care I was pretty much institutionalized and as I'd been in "the system" for so long. I knew who I could trust and who I couldn't; I knew which of the staff were okay and which ones would give you a thick ear as soon as look at you but above all I knew which kids were bullies and who were their victims. As I got older I began to stand up to the former and look after the latter. When Sheena arrived she was a little lost soul over-awed by the enormity of the system: she was small for her age and definitely at the mercy of it all. She also carried a metaphorical sign around which said "please kick me." Her name wasn't "Sheena" then, it was "Donald"! Yes, that's right, she was a boy and in a place like that his/her chances of coming through without major psychological trauma were negligible. "Ah, Anthony," the matron of the home said as soon as I slouched into her office one Saturday morning, "thank you for coming to see me." I was taken by surprise somewhat. The normal greeting that I received from her was more along the lines of "Tony! What the hell have you been doing now, you little sod?" Normally screamed at about 140dB with several police officers present. Okay, I may have been institutionalized, but I was no angel. I stood up for myself and my friends which tended to upset the smooth running of the place. Except today was different: the system in the form of the Matron, needed me so she was all sweetness and light. "Anthony-" She was the only person to use my full since my mom died. "Anthony," she had purred, "this is Donald Dawson. He's only been here for a few days but he is being picked on." 'Picked-on' was her euphemism for 'having the crap kicked out of him on a daily basis.' The two of them looked at me with sad expressions. But me, well at sixteen and already a shade over six foot, I was the hard man. "Yeh: well?" "Could you please take him under your wing and show him the ropes around here?" Matron asked through gritted teeth. My response had got right up her nose, which it was intended to. I looked at her, the kid looked at me, I looked at the kid who seemed to come up to no higher than my knee. I was met by a pair of tear-filled baby-blue eyes, one of which was half closed by a bruise. I looked back at the Matron and asked, "Luigi?" She managed to nod and say, "I'm not allowed to give you the name." Both at the same time. She'd owe me for this! Suddenly I looked up and said. "Oh listen! Sounds like there's a fight in the pool room, I'll just go and sort it out." The Matron visibly paled. "Thank you," she said to my departing back. As I had said, it was a Saturday morning which meant that there were only two staff on duty besides the matron and one of them was the cook. The pool room was a shambles by the time that I had finished explaining to Luigi Trotter and his gang that the new kid had a right to a peaceful and relatively bruise-free life at the home. It was fairly good natured in that he came at me with a pool cue and received a '4-ball' in the face for his troubles, Philip Smedley, his 'capo', tried to grab me from behind and ended up flat on his back on top of the pool table, landing on the pool balls must have hurt, but so what? Luigi then pulled his flick knife, which needless to say he didn't know how to use; he lunged forward - straight into the chair that I swung up between us. I used it to run him backwards into the wall and he dropped the weapon. The gang... They called themselves a 'gang' despite the fact that there were only four real members plus half a dozen fair-weather hangers on... The gang suddenly lost interest in violence when Luigi whined. "Alright, alright, Tony, we hear you." I lowered the chair and sat on it. Lou remained leaning on the wall as I reached down, scooped up the knife and threw it underarm into the dartboard. There where a few gasps and one muttered "bloody hell" as I left the room. They were more impressed by the shot than I was - the knife had hit double twenty but I had been aiming at the bull. I won't say that Donald had an easy ride after that but it was certainly easier than it would have been if I hadn't explained the facts of life to Luigi. Actually he was only in the home for a couple of months while his family worked out what to do with him and he was taken in by an aunt who lived locally: this meant that he went to the same school as most of the inmates from the home and I got to spend the rest of the year 'baby- sitting' him. He had a knack of wandering into trouble and it was while he was living with his aunt that he began wearing girls clothes... But again that is definitely another story. I left school at seventeen and went straight into the Army: this was part of the usual progression - orphanage; army; living rough. A lot of the lads and quite a few of the girls followed this route: by the time we had spent most of our young lives in the home's regulated environment, the Army was a natural choice as it was another regulated environment. After the Army what else was there other than living rough? Most of us could not cope with living on our own; we'd had no practice at making our own way in the world: a few ended up in prison - yet another institutionalized form of existence that suited ex-orphanage kids particularly well in that everything was taken care of on their behalf. Me? I was lucky. By the time I was de-mobbed there were two women in my life: Andrea and Sheena, although I didn't know it at the time. 2. Ten Years Later I liked the Army which trained me as a paramedic. The Army made me, but after nine years, I'd had enough and was ready to move on. Besides, Andrea and I were planning on getting married and she did not fancy being a British Army-Wife or being the mother of a couple of Army-Brats. I'd known Andrea for several years: we'd met when I was on leave one time in Bielefeld, Germany. The wall had been down for nearly ten years and the country was finding out that it could stand up for its self and didn't need us Brit Squaddies getting drunk and vomiting everywhere. Andrea and me didn't quite hit it off straight away and it wasn't love at first sight... Actually it was more like disdain on her part but, luckily, I ignored her when she called me a Britischer pig. Well everyone is entitled to their own opinion. We got to know each other during the fortnight that I was there and we stayed in touch. By the time that I was coming up for discharge, we were engaged and she managed to wangle a transfer to her employer's UK arm. I'm glad that she did because she was the one thing that kept me on the straight and narrow. I was out of the Army, I had no support mechanism, nobody to tell me when to get up, when to eat and where to go to get a job. If it hadn't been for Andrea, I would have given up but she was my rock: she took charge and sorted things out for me... For us. She found me a temporary job with her employer: I became a Security Guard with a special responsibility for first aid. I had been a corporal in the Army and the new job didn't pay anywhere near as well. Andrea, on the other hand was a department head and earned more than twice as much as I did... No I did not resent that, in fact I was pleased: it meant that we would be able to get married all the sooner. So here I was: I still wore a uniform to work which suited me because it made me feel secure. I had a "wealthy" fianc? and the future looked secure. Our employer was one of the biotech companies and were in the process of expanding. New developments led to growth which led to greater capacity and new customers. Andrea was in charge of the UK accounts department while I manned the main gate. I was happy, I had a job that I could do so it was only natural for my wife to be to take charge of the finances: hell I'd only have spent the money faster than it came in: I had no experience of budgeting. The only reason that I left the Army with money in the bank was that I had earned it quicker than I could spend it, or even drink it. No, I wasn't going to sulk just because she earned more than me: that would have been plain macho and silly. Besides, I looked upon the period when I worked as a security man as a chance to sort out my place in "civvy street." Then it happened: or rather Sheena did! But then Sheena always seemed to happen, she was that kind of woman. Andrea and I were out on the town one Friday night. Well, out in West Bromwich, to be more specific... In case you didn't know it, West Bromwich was where I went to school. I still liked a drink now and then and my fianc? was more than happy to go along with this... Besides, I think that she was working on me - trying to manoeuvrer me into taking a job as a paramedic with the local NHS ambulance service. It was, she pointed out, a good, steady, well-paid, secure job and it carried a pension. "Besides," she added quickly. "your government has invested a lot of money into your training for you not to take advantage of it," Drink was beginning to get the better of me so I stopped and looked at her. "You want me to be a mercenary?" Andrea closed her eyes and breathed out slowly, no doubt counting to ten as she did so. "No, you stupid British pig, I want you to make something of your self!" I should point out that Andrea did not really drink and never touched a drop when she was driving. She always drove on our Friday nights out. I stopped dead and looked at her... She hadn't called me that since we had first met, "I'll have to update all of my qualifications!" I answered suddenly feeling sober. "So? What is stopping you?" Our night out was suddenly turning serious and would have continued to do so if Sheena hadn't happened then and there. Andrea's probing had just about put the lid on our celebrations and we were on the point of heading back towards the car park when I suddenly found myself swamped by a tidal wave of femininity. There was a sudden girlish squeal of delight and a blur of movement and I felt a pair of arms fling themselves around me as a cloud of golden hair obscured my vision and my nostrils were over powered by highly expensive perfume. I heard Andrea snort in annoyance at about the same time as a pair of ruby-red lips were pressed against mine and I found myself being kissed expertly and enthusiastically. Somewhere in the back of my befuddled mind, a little voice called our, "You're for it now, Soldier!" Things could not get any worse so I kissed the woman back. The kiss went on and on until giggling, the gorgeous blonde pulled away and stared up at me. It took several seconds to sort out my thoughts during which I swear that I could hear Andrea's foot tapping. I was looking down into a pair of pale, baby-blue eyes. "Donald?!" I mouthed in surprise. The blonde shook her head vigorously. Her hair rippled and flew as she did so. Hell! It WAS Donald: I was sure of it. Suddenly I began to panic: would my fianc? be any happier if she found out that I was kissing a bloke in drag? It was like calling "tails" on a double-headed coin: I'd be lucky to get out of this and still have a fianc?! I glanced sideways and saw a thunderous-looking Andrea out of the corner of my eye: I prepared for the worst. Here was I, kissing a strange woman who I was pretty sure was really a rather strange man while my fianc? looked as if she was going to begin a re-run of "The Battle of the Bulge." The real one, not the film and I was on the verge of panic when the blonde (Donald???) came to the rescue by telling the truth! She straightened up, broke the clinch and said, "Oh, I'm so sorry, but I haven't seen Tony since he left school and joined the Army!" She smiled sheepishly and continued. "Please forgive me, but we were childhood friends." Andrea's expression softened somewhat in that she no longer looked murderous, just angry. "Oh?" she purred. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" Darling. I would like you to meet Donald. I could just hear myself saying it and was about to when the other "woman" came to our/my rescue. "Oh, hi!" she gushed. "I'm Sheena and I'm ever so glad that Tony's found someone nice!" Then she grabbed both of our arms and steered us into a near-by nightclub and over to a secluded table in the corner and sat demurely. Her expression invited us to join her. To say that she attracted male attention like a magnet attracts scrap metal was an understatement. Her face was heart-shaped with a pert little nose, a full-lipped sexy mouth and two pale blue eyes that seemed to smoulder like ice on fire. Combine perfect features with the cascade of long golden-blonde hair that framed them and you had the face of a woman straight off the cover of Penthouse magazine. My eyes travelled downwards to take in her perfect C-cup breasts that were elegantly contained by an electric-blue satin top. Was this Donald??? Frankly I was past caring - I'm going to say it for the umpteenth time: she was gorgeous. Suddenly she jumped up and scampered over towards the bar. As she vanished into the crowd; I prepared myself for the coming artillery barrage: For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Instead I received a quizzical look and a questioning. "Well?" I did what any self-respecting man would do: I feigned innocence and lied. "She was my girlfriend during my last year at school... I think that she's just pleased to see me." "Ah! And you her?" Andrea's German accent was beginning to reassert its self. Not a good sign. "Well..." I hesitated... "Yes, I guess so." "That explains why you seemed to have a canoe in your pocket." I could feel myself going red. My God! It takes a lot to embarrass a soldier. "Andrea!" I pleaded. "We haven't seen each other since I ran out on her about ten years ago. I was as surprised as you were." Her left eyebrow rose about half an inch and she gave me a knowing little smile. She knew something that I didn't, but before I could try and find out what, there was a rustle of satin and the clink of glasses as Sheena deposited three Bucks Fizzes onto the table in front of us before sitting demurely on the empty seat. I tried to change the subject. "How did you get served so quickly? There was one hell of a queue." "Was there?" she answered brightly. "I never noticed." Then she turned her baby-blues on my Andrea. "So, tell me everything - Where did you meet? When did you get engaged? When's the wedding? I don't think I said more than two words during the next hour while the ladies verbally spared with each other. I drank my drink and went to the bar for another round, needless to say it took me a lot longer than it had taken Sheena. When I got back to the table, their heads were about three inches apart and they were both talking quietly, Suddenly both of them looked straight at me and began laughing, not a good sign. I delivered the drinks and sat down quietly... One thing led to several others and we all ended up on the dance floor, well - dancing : me stiffly; Andrea, sort of constrained and Sheena with wild enthusiastic abandon. The band all seemed to be playing something different, but the racket just about passed as music and had a good beat, or two so we all relaxed and began to enjoy our selves. Suddenly something else surfaced from my past. I felt a hand on my shoulder as a silky male voice spoke to me in a clearly phony Italian accent, which I won't attempt to copy. "Hey, man, like relax and you won't get hurt 'cause me and my friend are going to dance with your women!" I relaxed, like the man said and turned around slowly... It was Luigi. "Tony?" He looked as if I had just hit him... Something that I hadn't needed to do for ten years. "My God, Tony, I was only joking man, its good to see you! Aren't you going to introduce me?" "Nope, because you are just going to walk away quietly and take that dip- shit Philip with you." "Hey, how d'ya know it was me?" Philip whined from somewhere behind me, "Lucky guess!" I began to loosen up as I prepared for the inevitable fight. I heard the quiet "click!" of a flick-knife - some people never learn. The room seemed to get noisier as I looked from Luigi to Philip and back... They weren't fourteen or fifteen now and they were both nearly as big as I was. Suddenly I noticed the crowd part as a couple of police officers entered the place. "Luigi, police, lose the knife!" I hissed and saw Andrea frown slightly. "Thanks, man." The Italian accent was replaced by his native Black- country one. I heard another click as the knife hit the floor and I toed it surreptitiously across the dance floor where it vanished under the feet of the mass of dancers. Luigi gave me a wry grin. "Still looking out for everybody,eh Tony? Thanks pal, I owe ya one: see y'around." I watched him saunter away with his one-time Capo in tow, No! Luigi would never learn and neither would Philip. I gathered up Andrea and Sheena and headed for the exit: I didn't want to wait around to see why the police were there: it wasn't my problem, not any more. Outside on the pavement there was a brief discussion.: Andrea was refusing to drive for the same reason that I was... We were both over the limit. Sheena couldn't drive... No license: also over the limit, but on several occasions. "Oh, don't worry!" Sheena cut in. "Leave your car on the car park and come home with me, I only live a couple of miles away! I've got plenty of room so you can both stay the night." Andrea and I looked at each other and then nodded glumly: Sheena smiled and scooted off to attract a taxi driver's attention and within fifteen minutes the three of us piled into Sheena's ground floor flat. Then while Andrea vanished into the toilet, I grabbed hold of Sheena's wrist. "It is you, isn't it?" I demanded, rather more forcefully than I intended. She nodded, then said, "Let go: you're hurting." I loosed her and she stepped back and shook her hand theatrically. "You never did know your own strength, you great lumox!" I stepped back and sat down on a slightly thread-bare couch. "Okay, Sheena, or Donald, or who ever you are: what the fuck's going on?" The blonde shrugged. "You know how it is, darling..." I didn't nor did I get a chance to find out because Andrea reappeared at that moment. 3. Sheena! Well there you are... Donald/Sheena was back in my life with a vengeance and I was still looking out for him/her. Over the next few weeks, while Andrea and I were laying the final plans for our wedding I found out just how little had changed: the orphanage was still there, only it called its self a children's home now. I drove past a couple of times and found that it still looked as forbidding as ever. The old school was still there too, only it called its self an academy these days: again I didn't go back for a visit; they had been pretty keen that I should leave some nine years earlier so I did not feel that I should impose myself on them. I began training as a civvy paramedic: turned out that I had very little to learn as my Army training had been bang up to date. Within three months I was able to give my notice as a Security Guard and done the green uniform of the Ambulance Service: yes, another uniform, seems that I am fated to wear one for the rest of my life. Andrea encouraged me every step of the way and before the year was out, we were married. My new job was shift work and I was never sure of when I was going to be home: oh, we had a duty roster but because of staff shortages, we never stuck to it for long: the phone would ring and, "Tony? Can you do a double shift?" or "Tony, can you work the weekend?" The roster would be published at the beginning of the month and if we were lucky it would last a whole week before the phone rang again. A total lack of routine became my routine, strange as it may sound. Then, straight out of the blue I was sent home early: or rather I was brought home when I was only four hours into my night shift. A pub brawl had turned into a small riot and I had been hit by a thrown house brick while I was treating one of the casualties. I vaguely remember a copper shout, "The medic's down!" just before someone turned out the lights. An ambulance crew checked me over, bandaged my head and then tried to take me to hospital; I declined because I knew just how busy they were. In the end the police ran me home in the back of a response car. I waved them good-bye and walked in. It was all in darkness and there was no sign of Andrea so I decided to make myself a mug of tea. She had obviously gone to bed early. I don't think that I have said anything about the new house, but we had moved into a nice bungalow in Solihull when we had got married. And being a bungalow, I had to walk past our bedroom to get to the kitchen. I almost missed it, the noise, I mean, it was a very quiet feminine moaning. I paused to listen... It sounded ecstatic: it also sounded like Andrea. Well being me and being slightly groggy from the bang to the head, I decided that tea came before anything else so I turned away; felt myself become dizzy and realised that I was falling. The rest was nothing but vague dream-like memories until I awoke in hospital several hours later. I remember the bedroom door flying open and Andrea, who was wearing very little, shouting, "Du lieber Gott!" I think it was. She turned towards the bedroom... There was someone else inside and I think I heard another woman say, "Call an ambulance, he doesn't look good." I have another vague recollection of a near naked blonde leaning over me and saying. "It's okay, Tony, the ambulance is on the way." I'm sure of this one because I can remember a pair of very nice breasts swinging into my field of view. I recognized her perfume... Or I dreamed that I did: but it wasn't just perfume: there was a musky overtone to it and I recognised the wonderful scent of female arousal. I tried to sit up and couldn't, Blackness rose up around me and I felt myself relaxing. "Sheena?" Did I actually say that or did I dream it? Then Andrea was there, her long chestnut hair hanging down and framing her face. The blonde faded but her perfume did not: it clung to my wife. Oh God, Sheena had been there... "You're safe, my darling..." That was it: next thing I remember was the hospital and a nurse was telling me that I'd had a nasty bump on the head and was concussed. After a couple of days, I was discharged: tests had shown nothing serious was wrong and I was on sick-leave for a further fortnight. Time hung heavy on my hands (Oh, yeuch that is one hell of a clich?... Come on, get a grip, you speak better English than that! Okay, okay! Let's start again!) What I meant to have said was that I was bored: I'd always been with people (Orphanage; Army; Work) and I had always been active (Same List): but here I was moping around the house while Andrea was at work. I still had dizzy spells so I had more sense than drive or even go out. I was on medication for the head injury so alcohol was off the menu and there is only so much day-time television that a normal intelligent person can tolerate... About twenty minutes in my case. At the end of the first day I was ready to climb the walls and to cap it all something was bugging me: something important that I couldn't quite remember. It was like an itch that I could not scratch. I knew that I had not been taken to hospital immediately on Friday night. I vaguely remembered being brought home - but after that, nothing made sense: everything was shadows and confusion and having nothing to do, it niggled at me. It got worse over the following week: oh, I wasn't alone all of the time: a couple of coppers dropped in on Wednesday and had a chat about the incident. They took a statement from me, drank copious amounts of tea and told me they had someone for throwing the brick. I thanked them. Thursday, things changed. About two in the afternoon, the doorbell rang. When I answered it, there was Sheena: as bright as a button and as irrepressible as ever. I won't say that I wasn't glad to see her because I was: hell, I'd have been glad to see the Income Tax Inspector, I was that bored. She threw her arms around me and kissed me again: this seemed to be her normal way of greeting people; then over a mug of tea, I managed to get some of the story out of her... Some of what she told me might even have been true! Sheena's Tale. Sitting down and talking to Tony gave me a strange feeling. Okay, he had looked out for me when I was at my most vulnerable in that children's home - did I mention that I hated the place? I think that I was about twelve when my parents broke up and I ended in care: I was small for my age and as insecure as hell. The last place I should have been was a council-run orphanage and to say that I got picked on would be an understatement! If it hadn't have been for Tony and his protective streak, I would have been psychologically scared... Okay, I'd have been psychologically scared even more than I was by just being there. School was little better: we all went to Menzies High, a comprehensive for eleven to eighteen year-olds: I hated the place! But again Tony protected me... Oh, I was nothing special: he protected just about anyone who needed it which meant that he had a reputation as a trouble maker: bullies are subtle; Tony was not! He left school and joined the Army at seventeen and the school staff heaved a sigh of relief... But enough of Tony, this little piece is supposed to be about me. In the middle of the year, the lawyers suddenly agreed, probably because they realised that there was no more money to be made, and I was allowed to move out of the home and go to live with my aunt. My slightly batty aunt. Well at least I only had to worry about school and after Tony left I didn't go very much, anyway: so the problem lessened. No, my aunt was beyond batty: she was as mad as a bucket of frogs and had her own way of looking at things. She looked at me and did not like what she saw because I was a boy... She didn't seem to like boys; and by the time I was seventeen she had me living full-time as a girl, which is how Sheena came on the scene. I must admit, with my aunt's single-minded coaching and dedication, I made a pretty good girl and easily passed as one in public. Donald was despised but Sheena was the object of admiration and longing so you can't blame me for taking the easier option. There was one problem: well my aunt saw it as a problem: I didn't. My sexuality did not change with my gender... I prefer girls! Despite my aunt's determination to fix me up with a boyfriend: I still prefer girls! Now at twenty-four I've undergone several operations but still have the 'biggy' to go: I'm what is commonly know as a 'Shemale' although I should be described by the politically correct term; a 'pre-op transwoman.'.. I think I prefer 'Shemale'; its more accurate and I'm not exactly a PC person myself. Actually, I'm in no hurry as I utilize my "asset" to make a living : I star in a certain type of film. Actually attractive shemales are in demand, especially ones who can perform in more ways than one. I'm not massively endowed but what I have still works and if people will pay to watch videos of me poking it into various assorted orifices then I am happy to take advantage of them. Suddenly, right out of the blue, Tony reappeared after nearly ten years of absence... Not only Tony but his girlfriend, Andrea... Oh, wow! It was lust at first sight. No, not Tony, silly - Andrea! Back to Tony Well having listened to her, it was clear just who she was. Donald no longer existed and she was Sheena with a vengeance. She was probably the most feminine person that I had ever met: oh sure, I'd come across shemales before, but was having trouble accepting her as one. I mean, I could see that she had once been Donald; difficult to accept as that was, but Sheena was more 'woman' than some of the "real" women I had met. Damn it! My command of the English language isn't great enough to allow me to express myself without sounding insulting. Sheena was a real woman - no doubt about that... It was just that she hadn't always been. Oh hell! Well you know what I mean! No, I told her that I found it hard to accept that she wasn't a girl and so she showed me her equipment. Okay, her cock wasn't a big one and her balls were also on the small side: but that was due to the hormones and other things that she had to take. I must admit that my head still seemed to be spinning as she coyly adjusted her dress and tucked the miss- matched organ back inside her panties. "Does Andrea know?" I asked, for want of something to say. "Know what? That her bridesmaid is a shemale?" For some reason, probably beyond my male comprehension, she sounded hurt. "Sorry!" I mumbled wondering what the hell I was sorry for. I mean I did not understand women: I suspect that no man actually does. Believe me, I wasn't stupid enough to include Sheena in this list... She was a woman after all and I suspect that she had an unfair advantage: she also understood men. She gave me a brief open handed wave that I interpreted as "Everything's cool," but did not answer at once. I made us another pot of tea, and sat back to await further developments. Tea is after all the fuel that drives British society. Sheena sipped hers and I didn't have long to wait. She turned those baby-blue eyes on me and watched me for a while as if judging my mood. "Tony." Her husky voice tugged at my heart. "I'll always be your friend: I owe a great-deal to you. You've got me out from under a lot more times than I can count." Suddenly she began to sob. "Oh, Tony my darling, what must you think of me? I've treated you terribly!" I was at a complete loss - what did she mean? I tried to get her to tell me more, but she just changed the subject as women always do. When she left shortly afterwards I was none the wiser. 4. Aftermath A few days later, while I was cooking Andrea's evening meal, she phoned me: she was going to be a bit late... A work related thing. Could I please put the dinner on hold? I bit my tongue and said that I would. She eventually rolled in at about 20-00 hours - that's eight pm for the civilians reading this (that's if anyone ever does!). She gave me a big happy, sloppy kiss and I went back to resurrecting the meal. She had given me something to think about: several things actually. How many times had I done something like this on her? Oh, sure: it was work; but I was beginning to realise that home and family life should come first. And no that was not because we were undergoing traditional role-reversal. We hadn't pursued traditional husband and wife roles anyway, not with both of us working full-time. We had both mucked in and done what was necessary to keep the home in order. In effect, we had a partnership: not a husband or wife led marriage. The second thing that she gave me to think about was the perfume that lingered over her hair and clothing: it was a very expensive one, it was also Sheena's favourite. No, I am not normally paranoid: the idea of my wife having an affair, especially one with another woman, a woman who was also a shemale and my best friend was laughable. Well wasn't it? Andrea was straight; she'd never shown the slightest interest in another girl... But did she see Sheena as a girl? No, I wasn't paranoid: but sitting at home on sick leave had given me too much time to think and imagine the impossible. Andrea and Sheena? It was laughable! Well wasn't it? As I dished up the meal, I realised just how careful I had to be: I realised that I loved both of them and did not want to cause any upset. I needed to be diplomatic and not charge in with all guns blazing. Over the meal I casually brought the conversation around to Sheena, who else? "Hey," I said as I sat down opposite my wife, "your perfume smells great." She looked slightly shocked. "Do... Do you like it? Sheena gave it to me. It costs more than I would want you to spend on something so unimportant." I made the usual 'husband-type' reply. "If you like it, then it's important to me!" Andrea clearly liked my answer, that is if her loving smile was anything to go by. She smiled warmly and switched to German. "Danke meine Liebling!" I waited, but she carried on eating her goulash: she was clearly enjoying it, but I knew she would I had really laced it with paprika, which I knew was her favourite spice. She didn't seem to realise that I was asking her about Sheena; or if she did, she was waiting for my next remark. I looked straight across at her. "Darling; be careful around Sheena, she's not quite what she seems." Andrea looked blank, but realisation seemed to dawn. "Oh, I know; she's very talented. Did you know that she's a film star?" She said innocently but gave me a funny look when I spluttered. She giggled. "Oh, don't worry: I'm not a prude! Besides she showed me a couple of her videos!" She was wide eyed and innocent-looking as she said it. "She has such a beautiful body: I wish my breasts where as firm as hers." She then jumped up and fetched me a glass of water because I was coughing and spluttering fit to choke. As I drank it, she continued. "Oh, come on, you've got to admit that she really is beautiful, clothed or naked!" I looked incredulously at her. "I wouldn't know: I've never seen her without her clothes!" Her expression was incredulous as she stared at me. "What? But she was your girlfriend... Oh don't tell me, you never... Never er, had... Er, you didn't? How come?" I felt myself blushing. "I was very innocent then: besides she wasn't that kind of girlfriend: she was only thirteen I was almost seventeen: so no, we didn't!" Andrea looked as confused as I felt as she finished the last of her goulash. "Well take it from me, she is gorgeous; you should see that video... I didn't particularly like the special effects; but it was very erotic!" I poured myself another glass of wine knowing what was coming next, but dreading it anyway. "Special effects?" "Yes," she said brightly, "it must have been computer jiggery-pokery. They gave her a thingy!" "Oh?" I said, even though I had a terrible sense of foreboding. "What sort of 'thingy'?" Andrea hesitated. "A... A penis; you know, a cock!" "Yes darling, I do know what a penis is: I've got one, remember?" I watched emotions chase each other across her pretty face: embarrassment, confusion, annoyance and finally amusement. I should have shut up but I carried on. "I've got one and so has Sheena!" Andrea grabbed the wine bottle and poured her self another glass. I had rattled her, I could tell because the wine overflowed onto the tablecloth and she never noticed. "Oh no!" she said hastily. "She hasn't - it's a squirting rubber strap-on dildo! It's very realistic and feels just like the real thing!" Suddenly, wide-eyed, she shrieked, clapped her hand over her mouth, dropped her glass, jumped up and ran out of the room. I watched her go and then buried my face in my hands. Things started coming back to me: the night I was rushed to hospital for instance. There had been a second woman there, I remembered now: Sheena was the naked blonde who had leaned over me and tried to reassure me that everything was going to be alright! Sheena! I had been cuckolded by a woman with a cock: I had been cuckolded by my best 'female' friend! I sobbed quietly for quite some time... 5. Damage Limitation I felt numb: everything seemed to be scattered around me in pieces on the dining room floor. I picked up the wine bottle, it was about a quarter full. I hesitated: should I? No! I put it down again; I had enough problems without getting drunk, and I was on medication, too... Andrea - Why? I'd gathered that Sheena was into women, but Andrea? I felt helpless - No! I felt useless! I knew that Sheena had a new girlfriend but it never dawned on me that it was my wife. Here I was: Anthony: the guy that looked out for everyone else - but just who was looking out for me? Sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes? In other words, who guards the guard? - Or who looks out for me? Despite being on medication. the bottle began to look more and more attractive so I put it in the fridge. What was I going to do? I wandered off into the living room and slumped down on the couch where I sat feeling very sorry for myself. Could I even compete with Sheena, after all she was the best of both worlds: a beautiful woman with male genitals. I could see what my darling Andrea could see in my best friend: oh I could. Hell: I had to admit that I fancied her like hell myself! The only thing that put me off was that small thing that she had showed me. It didn't repel me. How could it? I had a similar one. No! It was the fact that it was attached to a woman: this is what put me off Sheena! Confusing, isn't it? I guess I had been sitting their, feeling sorry for myself for about three quarters of an hour when I heard the doorbell ring. I was on the verge of getting up to answer it when I heard Andrea open the front door. What the hell? I thought. Who cares? And slipped back into my personal dark place. I sensed movement: then suddenly a waft of expensive perfume got through to me. I looked up and saw both of the two women in my life: the women who had betrayed me. "I'm so sorry, Tony, I'm so very sorry!" Sheena said quietly and fell to her knees in front of me. I felt her grasp my hand. I looked up and met Andrea's gaze. I only said a single word, which I repeated. "Why? Why, why, why, why, why?" She looked down and I could see the tears in her eyes. "Oh, Tony: it's all my fault!" She sobbed and knelt on the other side of me, grasping my other hand. I began to cry uncontrollably: here I was a tough ex-soldier, a combat veteran who'd seen death and destruction crying like a small child: a child who had just had the foundations kicked out from under him. "Have you come to gloat?" I demanded. "Andrea phoned me! I've come to take care of my best friend: the friend I've hurt!" She reached out and hugged me. I couldn't help it - I hugged her back. Then Andrea hugged me - "Why, oh, why?" I mumbled through my grief. There we were, the three of us like some sort of inane eternal triangle. I loved them both and I knew that they both loved me as well as each other... A way through dawned on me... I looked at Sheena. She looked at me: her baby-blue eyes framed with smeared make-up. "Sheena? Shouldn't you show Andrea?" I said quietly. The blonde looked at me, confusion momentarily visible on her face. Then she nodded, stood and stepped back. Her hands were shaking as she undid her skirt which slipped down over her hips and fluttered to the floor. Hesitantly, her hands moved up to her pale blue panties. There was a pause: I noticed that Andrea had half turned and was staring wide-eyed at the woman's crotch. Slowly, but not sensually, Sheena slipped her thumbs inside the elastic top and eased them down over her hips letting her cock flick into view. Andrea gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Sheena's penis suddenly twitched and slowly began to stiffen. "Oh, no!" she gasped and pulled her skirt back up to hide her embarrassment. "You - you are a man!" my wife sobbed. "No! She's not! She's just not quite all woman yet!" I said gently, defending Sheena yet again. I knelt on the floor in front of my wife and hugged her gently. "Sheena's a shemale; that's all." I motioned to Sheena and she knelt by us both. Suddenly the three of us hugged each other tightly... It was all going to be alright... I don't quite know how it happened, but the three of us ended up in bed. It was probably the wine because Andrea opened another bottle and the evening became a blur. I remembered kissing them both, them one thing led to another and that was it. The sex was not brilliant but the companionship and sense of relief more than made up for it. I awoke just after first light and wondered why the bed was so cramped! Then I got a waft of Sheena's expensive perfume. I blinked to get my eyes to focus properly. I was lying on my back with Andrea cuddled up to me with her head resting on my chest and her mass of chestnut hair spilling across it, Sheena was cuddled up behind her and they looked like a couple of spoons. I jiggled trying to get more comfortable and both women shuffled into new positions without waking up. I smiled at this; there was only a sheet over us as our body heat was more than enough to keep us warm. Bits of what we had done during the night began to drift back. We had made love to each other, more for comfort than for gratification: My marriage had come close to ending last night and I new it: Andrea had cuckolded me and that had seemed an insurmountable betrayal. I would have moved out: hell, I was about to when Sheena had walked in. Bed had gone a long way to healing the wounds or at least our intimacy had. I'd made love to both Andrea and Sheena... That had been the first time I had tried anal sex: I hoped that my clumsy performance had not hurt Sheena... She had moaned appreciatively but she could have been using her porn star actin skills to make me think that she liked it. I know that she did not fancy men, or at least nowhere near as much as she fancied women. While I had made love to her she had done the same thing to Andrea so that it was an almost normal (to my eyes) threesome. I kissed the top of Andrea's head and then stroked her hair. She jiggled and smiled in her sleep. Her backside must have rubbed against Sheena causing the blonde to make a couple of involuntary 'humping' motions against Andrea's well-padded rump. This caused Andrea to jiggle again which in turn disturbed Sheena causing her to stretch and begin waking up. I had found the sight of the two women kissing passionately to be very erotic and after all Sheena screamed 'feminine.' She definitely turned me on or at least, almost all of her did! God she was beautiful: but every- now-and-again, the vision of Donald would surface and this was an even bigger passion-killer than her penis. I guess that I am not gay - despite fancying a shemale. But I didn't fancy her because she was a shemale: I fancied her because she was a sexy woman. Confused? I know that I am. Sheena's hands slipped in between Andrea's breasts and my side. She squeezed and fondled hem which in turn caused my wife to wake up. Sheena kissed her on top of her head and I realised that I was going hard, or at least I was attempting too - last night had taken a lot out of me. I sighed: the marriage had been saved but I had the distinct suspicion that there were now three people in it. Life was about to get interesting: possibly along the lines of the old Chinese curse - "May you live in interesting times!" But that's another story!!! * * * Sheena and the gang will be back in the sequel "Sheena's New Husband". * * * I am always pleased to read any constructive comments and criticism that you may have regarding my stories and also suggestions as to how the characters should develop in future... I look forward to hearing from you. I can be reached at: [email protected]