The Date - Revisited free porn video

The Date - Revisited It's now over 18 months since I wrote "The Date" and the positive reviews it attracted were really encouraging. The story was written in the form of a diary from the perspective of Mandy, a post-operative transwoman, who attracted the attention of Peter, a younger worker at the company Mandy had been sent to on a week's contract work placement. Mandy notices Peter taking furtive glances at her and we follow her during the week as Peter finally plucks up the courage to invite her out for a drink and then an account of the date itself. A couple of reviewers of the original story observed that it would be nice to hear Peter's side of the story. A great idea but, for it to have relevance, Mandy's story needs to be read first. I therefore decided to republish Mandy's story and then add Peter's story after it. If you've already read "The Date" then feel free to skip to Peter's story about half way down. If not, then all of what follows will be new to you. Looking at the week from Peter's point of view was great fun because, of course, his account of events intersects Mandy's, so the two stories converge then diverge several times as they progress. The main bulk of Peter's story is narrated in the same timeframe as Mandy's as if it had been published concurrently. His epilogue at the end of the story brings us up to date with his life. I hope you enjoy the stories and do please leave a review to let me know what you think. AJ -------------------------------------------------- The Date - Mandy's Story My name is Amanda, or Mandy to my friends, and I'm a post-operative transwoman. And when I say post-operative, I mean post-operative. I've had it all done in the pursuit of femininity - liposuction, stomach staple, breast augmentation, extensive facial feminisation (twice), voice feminisation and full gender reassignment. Emotionally, I feel ten times richer than before my transition although, after spending tens of thousands on my transition, my bank manager would probably beg to differ! You should never ask a lady her age but let's just say that I'm not exactly in the prime of life any more. That's not to say that I'm old; in fact many have commented that, thanks to the hormones and a lot of help from the surgeons, I look at least ten years younger than I really am and am looking forward to spending the rest of my life as a slim, attractive woman rather than a haggard and overweight guy. And that suits me fine! Also, thanks to those same surgeons, I no longer have to contend with those awkward "is she or isn't she" pauses that used to make me dread meeting people for the first time. Before my transition, I was an accountant in a large company. Nowadays, though, I prefer the flexibility of contract work. It pays well and I can take time off whenever I want but it does mean that I never really get to know anyone where I work. It's just a case of "another week, another placement." I like to keep a diary and normally, it's full of the same old boring stuff that you'd expect to read from any middle aged woman. However, I still can't believe what happened last week and I'm dying to tell you all about it. I can't think of a better way than by sharing my diary with you so let's relive it together. MONDAY Today was the first day of a five day placement at Planet (Imports) Ltd. Their budgets are in a bit of a mess and I have to get them sorted out by the end of this week. The first day of a placement is always like a leap into the unknown so I always like to play it safe with my clothes. Whilst I still get a thrill from slipping on a dress and hearing the click-click of stilettoes as I walk, there's nothing worse than turning up dressed to the nines only to find that everyone else is in jeans and flats. Equally I don't want to appear underdressed so today, as I usually do on Mondays, I chose a trouser suit and a pair of mid-heeled ankle boots as these normally enable me to blend in with any company dress code. Arriving at Planet was a bit of a shock. The company is an importer/distributor specialising in ladies" workwear. With a generous staff discount on offer, the girls take full advantage of the range on offer and, I have to say, they all look stunning. With my trouser suit, I definitely felt rather dowdy so it's skirts, higher heels and a bit more makeup for the rest of the week! After all, although none of my colleagues know it, I'm secretly flying the flag for the trans community and I don't want to let the side down, do I? I'm working in the finance department. All told, there are about ten people in the team and I'm working alongside a woman called Sue who seems very nice, as do the others. I did have a little chuckle to myself, though. There's a guy on the far side of the office who I caught looking at me several times. When I looked over at him, he immediately looked back at his computer monitor and carried on with his work. He looks a bit young for me - probably in his early 30s - but he's quite cute looking so I may give him a chance, assuming of course, he doesn't mind being with a woman like me! Let's see what tomorrow brings! TUESDAY Today, I went all out to impress! Out came the power suit as this girl doesn't take competition lying down! Joking apart, I love getting properly dressed up for work and nothing beats a smart tailored skirt suit hanging an inch or two above the knee with a white silk blouse, barely black hold ups and plain black stiletto courts. In my pre-transition days, I used to dream of being able to go to work like this and I still sometimes have to pinch myself to ensure that I really can now and it's not just a dream. I also went a little heavier on the makeup; nothing over the top but it's been a long hard road to get where I am today and it's just nice to be able to enjoy the benefits. I had to laugh today. Sue told me that she thinks I've got an admirer. I did have a little giggle when she said it as she obviously hadn't realised the significance of the word "admirer." When I was active in the trans community, admirer was a term used a lot as a more polite way of saying "tranny chaser!" Let's just hope that Sue doesn't know what I know! Anyway, my admirer is, apparently, the guy who was sneaking furtive glances at me yesterday and Sue told me his name's Peter. Apparently, after I went home, Peter had gone over to her to ask about me - who I was, what I was like, what I was doing, that sort of thing. I haven't told anyone there about my "interesting" past and, thanks to my surgeries and speech therapy, it's not immediately obvious to most people so I don't think either of them suspected anything. Anyway, he's still sneaking glances at me over his computer monitor when he thinks I'm not looking and, as I said yesterday, he is rather cute looking so who knows? WEDNESDAY Well, today it happened. I was at the coffee machine getting a drink and, when I turned round, Peter was behind me. "Hello Mandy. You're new here aren't you? I'm Peter by the way." I introduced myself and explained that I was there for a week to sort out the budgets. Peter looked quite disappointed when he heard that I was to be leaving so quickly and there was then one of those awkward pauses that happens when someone wants to talk but hasn't got a clue what to say next. In the end, I took a sip of my coffee and broke the deadlock by saying that I'd better let him get back to his work. There's something about Peter I really like. So many guys think they're God's gift to women and presume that they only have to open their mouths and utter some over worn chat up line to have women falling at their feet. Peter is different; he'd obviously gone out of his way to talk to me but his shyness gave him an air of vulnerability that made me want to give him a hug. Anyway, I'm there to do a job, not to "get off" with the staff. He is rather cute, though! THURSDAY Peter found his voice today. I had gone to the coffee machine and, once again, he was standing there when I turned round. The conversation started off innocently enough with the usual "hello, how are you?" pleasantries followed, unfortunately, by the predictable pause. I was about to excuse myself when Peter took a deep breath and asked me if we could meet for a drink tomorrow as he'd really like to get to know me a bit better. "Are you sure?" I laughed. "I'm old enough to be your mother!" "You don't look it and I'm sure," he replied with a serious look on his face After joking with him that flattery would get him anywhere, I told him that it sounded very nice and accepted his invitation. There was another short pause and I noticed Peter starting to blush. I asked him if something was the matter and he took a deep breath. The conversation that followed really shook me. "Mandy, I hope you don't mind me asking this and tell me to mind my own business if you don't want to answer." "Yeeessss?" I said slowly wondering what he was about to ask "Are you by any chance transgender?" I was stunned both by the directness of his question and that he'd obviously "read" me. It was my turn to get flustered and seeing my embarrassment, he quickly retracted his question and apologised saying that he shouldn't have asked before turning and starting to walk back to his desk. I called him back and asked him what made him think that I was transgender and whether it would be a problem for him if I was. "Before I answer your questions," Peter started, "let me say that you are absolutely beautiful and I've not been able to take my eyes off you all week. I know you caught me looking over at you and I'm sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable. As for what made me think it, I don't know to be honest. You look like a woman, you sound like a woman and everything about you screams "woman." It's just something like a sixth sense that's been bugging me this week." I'm afraid that I don't go for all of this "sixth sense" stuff but even after giving him my best "come on, now tell me the truth" look, he gave nothing more away. This is something I really don't want to discuss with people I hardly know but, as he'd asked me out on a date, I would have to tell him at some stage so giving an untrue or evasive answer to his question would not have been fair. After making him promise not to discuss it with anyone else, I quietly confirmed that I was, indeed, a fully transitioned transwoman. I then pointed out that he'd not answered my second question - would it be a problem for him. His answer was immediate: "Absolutely not. I still really want to get to know you and I'm looking forward to our date tomorrow even more now." Looking forward to our date even more now? Maybe he is a tranny chaser, sorry admirer (LOL) but if the prospect of being with a transwoman excites him, who am I to complain?! As I looked over to his desk, once again I caught him looking back. This time, he didn't look away but smiled and I'm sure I saw him wink too! I really don't know what to expect tomorrow but, whatever his motives are, he's definitely very cute! FRIDAY My last day and, I have to say, I'll be quite sorry to move on. It's nice being in a place where the women really make an effort and it's been fun trying to keep up with them - I hope I haven't let the side down. Sue tipped me off that it's "Dress Down Friday" today so it was a casual outfit today. Of course, for the girls at Planet, casual still meant far smarter than the staff at most of the other places I've worked wear all week. I also didn't want Peter to get cold feet before our date so I decided to be a little daring and go for one of my favourite miniskirts, a black polo necked sweater, opaque tights and a really cute pair of high heeled stiletto ankle boots. As it turned out, the outfit was a hit and I received several compliments including one from Peter who came over to my desk to check that our date was still on. It's really nice to meet a guy who takes a genuine interest in what I'm wearing and whilst I know that, in this day and age, guys commenting on how their female colleagues look is taboo in the workplace, from Peter it just sounded sweet and innocent. I'm really starting to like him a lot. As I walked out of Planet for the last time, I was really quite sad that I won't be going back there. Maybe a settling down into a stable job wouldn't be such a bad idea. THE DATE It's 11:30pm and I've just arrived home after the most memorable date I've ever been on! Peter was so sweet with his complements that I wanted to look my best for him so tonight, so I wore a black pencil dress and my favourite pair of black high heeled pointy courts. I love the way they accentuate my curves and, at my age, I do need all the help I can get in that department! I also took extra care with the makeup. I tried not to look too tarty but, let's face it, what man can resist looking into smoky eyes and kissing deep red lips! Peter and I had arranged to meet in the bar at a local hotel and I got there just after 7:00 as we'd agreed. I looked around the bar but couldn't see him - just three couples each enjoying an intimate evening out and a woman dressed in a plain black dress and court shoes who appeared to be a member of the hotel staff collecting a tray of drinks from the bar so I sat down and waited for Peter to arrive. After a couple of minutes, the woman at the bar turned round and walked towards me with a bottle of champagne and two glasses on a tray. "Peter really does know how to treat a lady," I thought as she arrived at my table. "Hello Mandy, you look amazing," she said as she set the tray down and broke into a smile. The penny dropped! "Peter?" I replied more than a little shocked. "I prefer Petra when I'm like this," she replied. I told her that she looked stunning and then added, in mock indignation "I think you've got some explaining to do, young lady!" Petra apologised for not telling me sooner but said that she was really scared of people at work finding out. She went on to say that she's felt that something was wrong since a young age and, whilst she now realised what it is, she was having difficulty coming to terms with it. With a hint of sadness she added that she really wanted to spend the rest of her life like this but was scared to take the first steps and was hoping that I could give her some reassurance and advice. I told her that it would be my pleasure and then asked her about her "sixth sense" and how she knew I was transgender. She told me that it was a little bit like a car that's overdue for a service. Most people wouldn't know but a garage mechanic would immediately realise because of small tell-tale signs. She said that she'd spent so long watching YouTube transition videos that she was able to spot the signs that, on their own, would not give anything away but, together, told the story. I asked her what would have happened if I'd told her I wasn't transgender when she asked. Petra laughed as she answered. "Well, let me first say that you look fantastic and any guy who isn't attracted to you is probably gay. So, unfortunately, you'd now be sitting here with Peter making awkward conversation before both of you decided to call it a night at around 9:00 and go your separate ways." That would have been a real shame. As I think I may have mentioned, Peter was rather cute. However, as I looked at Petra, who, despite her insecurities, looked every inch a confident and beautiful woman, I knew that she would beat Peter in a cuteness contest any day. Womanhood will be all the better for having her as a member and the lucky guy that snares her is really going to hit the jackpot. I'm really looking forward to spending a lot more time with my new found sister as I guide her on her journey. ------------------------------------------------ The Date - Peter's Story Let me introduce myself. My name is Petra. I'm a young professional woman living life to the full. I'm tall, slim and my friends tell me I'm attractive and, without trying to sound self-obsessed or conceited, I wouldn't disagree with them. There's nothing I enjoy more than getting dressed up on a Saturday night; I'm afraid I'm one of those women who believes that women should be proud to be women so my skirts are probably a little too short, my heels a little too high and my blouse a little too revealing but I don't care. These things, the overt signs of confident womanhood, make me feel good about myself and I do all of this for me - not for the girlfriends I go out with, not for the club doormen who wave us straight past the queue of hopefuls and into the clubs and not even for the guys who swarm round us and make sure that we don't have to pay for a single drink all evening. Anyway, it's now Monday morning and work requires a rather more conservative attitude so one final check in the mirror.... .... and reality kicks in. What I've told you is only a half-truth. Yes, I am tall and slim and, I guess, good looking. Yes, I love to wear short skirts and high heels and low cut blouses. And yes, I do get waved straight past the queue of hopefuls when I turn up at the club dressed to the nines. But that's only a small part of my life. For most of the time I'm plain, boring Peter. From a young age, I've known that something was wrong but just couldn't put my finger on what it was. Why did I always want to play with the girls at school? Why was I so fascinated with what women wore? And why did I find it so difficult to form meaningful relationships with girls when most of my friends were finding it so easy? Now, as I look back with adult eyes, it's obvious but, at the time, it just made me miserable and still does. As I went through adolescence into adulthood, the screams from the girl within started getting louder and finally I could stand it no more. I confided in a close friend and with her help, "Petra" stepped out into the world. The problem is, I now have two lives - Petra and Peter - and only my small group of girlfriends know both of us. I work 20 or so miles away from where I live and no-one there knows my secret. And it is a secret because I'm scared, very scared. In my heart, I know that Peter is slowly dying as the pull to become Petra becomes ever stronger but, to become Petra, I would have to endure pain, rejection, ridicule and uncertainty. Am I really a woman trapped in a man's body or am I just some sort of pervert? As far as work is concerned, I'm one of a handful of guys working in the finance department at Planet (Imports) Ltd which deals with the import and distribution of ladies workwear. The job is indescribably boring but working in a company dealing with womenswear at least gives me a small connection to the world I so desperately want to inhabit. And my female colleagues take full advantage of the generous staff discount on offer but even that's a double edged sword; on the one hand, their clothes are inspirational and something to aspire to but, on the other, the frustration that I can't go to work dressed like they do just builds. This week, though, things got a little interesting at work. Shortly after I arrived at work on Monday, an unfamiliar woman arrived and was shown to an empty desk next to Sue's. She was tall, slim and quite attractive, probably in her early 40s as far as I could tell. And there was something about her that fascinated me and made me want to get to know her but I just couldn't figure out what it was. As I've explored who I really am, one thing that has suffered is relationships. Basically, I shy away from them. It's not that I don't want someone to be intimate with and to grow old with but I just fear that the way I feel about myself is incompatible with a stable romantic relationship. There was someone once. She had just joined Planet and, simply put, was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. It quickly became apparent that she was attracted to me and, although I was hesitant to make the first move, she certainly wasn't. I was fascinated by her; she was always immaculately dressed and made up, she had an effortless beauty and lit up the room when she smiled. She was smart, funny and engaging and yet she had a vulnerability about her that just added to her charm. I don't know what I was thinking when I accepted her invitation for a drink. Perhaps I thought that having such a beautiful girlfriend would "cure" me and I would become a normal male without aspirations to join the sisterhood. Perhaps I thought that I could live my life and womanly dreams through her. Perhaps I thought that we'd fall head over heels in love, I'd admit that I wanted to transition and she'd say that it was fine as she'd always preferred girls. Whatever it was, as the date progressed it quickly became apparent that it wasn't going to work. Rather than solving all of my issues, I now had the additional burden of carrying a secret and, effectively, deceiving her. As I looked at her beautiful outfit, it reminded me of what I would normally be doing that night At the end of the evening when I dropped her back at her flat, I politely declined her offer of "coffee" (and, no doubt everything else that would be on offer from her) and sadly made my way back home. I couldn't sleep that night and, in the end, realised that whilst she was everything most men could ever want, for me it was more a case of her being everything I could ever want to be. She tried to phone me a few times on the Sunday but I could see it was her and tried to ignore the calls. Finally, I knew that I couldn't avoid her any more so I answered the call. With a pounding heart and my voice wavering, I told her that I was sorry but I couldn't go through with a relationship with her. With a terse "OK then', she ended the call and I spent the rest of the day feeling rotten for what I'd done. Monday at work was awkward and there was a sadness about her that I'd never seen before. I wanted to think that she was the self-absorbed type that couldn't cope with rejection but I knew in my heart that she just wasn't that type of person. She left the company shortly afterwards and, after she'd gone, I found out that, she confided in a colleague that she'd fallen for me and was heartbroken that I'd not reciprocated. So if I'd not been able to forge a romance with a woman, what about men? Well, I freely admit that, when out as Petra, I enjoy male attention and have shared more than a few passionate kisses on the dance floor. But under the false boobs, makeup, wig, heels and short skirts, I'm a guy and the thought of a gay relationship repulses me. In any event, without transitioning, only gay guys would be interested in me but if I'm going to be with a guy, it has to be as a heterosexual woman able to progress the relationship as nature intended. So here I am, celibate and as confused as ever. But, for some reason, I couldn't stop looking at the new woman. She caught me looking a couple of times and I immediately looked back at my computer screen but I'm sure I saw her chuckle to herself so I think she noticed. I really wanted to know more about her so, after she'd gone home for the evening, I went over to Sue to see what I could find out. I didn't get a lot from Sue - just that her name was Mandy, she was here for a week to sort out the budgeting and she seemed friendly. Sue asked me why I wanted to know with a knowing look on her face and I just blushed and said we didn't often see new faces in the department. The following day, I strangely couldn't wait to get into work. I'd been at my desk for about 20 minutes when Mandy walked in and she looked absolutely stunning. The day before she'd been in a trouser suit but she was now wearing a skirt suit and heels with rather more makeup. And I could tell that Sue and Mandy were talking about me from their glances in my direction while they were talking. If anything, Mandy was even more of a distraction that day than the day before and I found it very difficult to concentrate on my work. As with the day before, she caught me looking at her a couple of times but, this time, she smiled which made me even more embarrassed. That night, as I lay awake in bed once more, I tried to decide what to do. My emotions were in turmoil; I knew by then that I was attracted to her and it was becoming apparent that she might feel the same way. My head was telling me to forget it as I didn't want the past to repeat itself and, anyway, she would be gone at the end of the week. My heart, though was screaming at me to do something about it. The following day at work, Mandy once again looked stunning and, as I saw her getting a coffee from the machine, I went over to introduce myself and ask her whether she'd like to go for a drink. The introductions were easy enough and she was just as engaging as I'd hoped. She told me a little about herself and I did feel a little sad when she mentioned that she'd be leaving at the end of the week. I really wanted to ask her out for a drink to get to know her better but I just couldn't get the words out and, instead, there was one of those awkward silences broken in the end by Mandy saying that she'd better let me get back to my work. As far as getting a date was concerned, I'd blown it but the encounter was a success in another area. As I lay in bed that night, I started to piece together the puzzle. Facially, Mandy still appeared to be in her early 40s but the skin on her neck suggested she could be quite a bit older. There was also a near imperceptible scar across the top of her forehead on her hairline and another at the base of her nose. She'd obviously had facial surgery but the question was whether it was just to reverse the ravages of ageing or whether there was another reason. It was then that it dawned on me, I realised what it was that had been bugging me about her all week; although Mandy was slim, her body shape just wasn't quite right. Her waist and hips seemed out of proportion with each other, at least when compared to the other women in the office; for someone of her build, her hips were just a little bit too narrow and, although she was slim and obviously careful what she ate, her waist seemed to lack the definition that women of a similar height and weight normally have. Although her voice had given nothing away, the other signs made it blindingly obvious and I smiled to myself as the realisation hit me - Mandy was transgender. MANDY WAS TRANSGENDER!!!! As I drifted off to sleep, I knew exactly what I had to do and couldn't wait to get into work the following day. It was mid-morning when I spotted Mandy getting her coffee from the machine and I knew that I had to make my move. The conversation started off innocently enough with the usual "hello, how are you?" pleasantries. I paused for a moment as I composed myself and, as I saw Mandy turn and about to walk back to her desk, I blurted out "can we meet for a drink tomorrow as I'd really like to get to know you a bit better?" "Are you sure?" Mandy laughed. "I'm old enough to be your mother!" "You don't look it and I'm sure," I replied. After joking with me that flattery would get me anywhere, she accepted my invitation. I paused as I needed to know whether my suspicions were true but knew that if I was wrong, it could lead to a complaint to the bosses by Mandy and probable disciplinary action against me. It was a question I knew I had to ask but equally didn't want to ask. I blushed as I tried to decide what to do and Mandy detected something was wrong and asked me what the matter was. I took a deep breath. "Mandy," I started, "I hope you don't mind me asking this and tell me to mind my own business if you don't want to answer." "Yeeessss?" she replied slowly. "Are you by any chance transgender?" There, I'd said it but even as I heard the words emanate from my lips, I couldn't believe how crass and potentially unkind it must have sounded. Even if Mandy was transgender, what business of mine was it? If she wanted to live her life in secret, I more than anyone should have respected that given the secrets I was carrying. Mandy looked flustered & embarrassed and I knew then that I had said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, I shouldn't have asked that" I apologised before turning to go back to my desk. Mandy called me back. "What makes you think I'm transgender and would it be a problem for you if I was?" I thought for a moment. Mandy's reaction indicated that she was either very liberal & tolerant or that she was, indeed, transgender. I relaxed slightly but knew that the answer I gave could affect her emotionally so I chose my words carefully. "Before I answer your questions, let me say that you are absolutely beautiful and I've not been able to take my eyes off you all week. I know you caught me looking over at you and I'm sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable. As for what made me think it, I don't know to be honest. You look like a woman, you sound like a woman and everything about you screams "woman." It's just something like a sixth sense that's been bugging me this week." Mandy gave me one of those looks that indicated that she didn't completely buy what I was saying about a "sixth sense." After making me promise not to discuss it with anyone else, she quietly confirmed that she was, indeed, a fully transitioned transwoman. She then pointed out that I'd not answered her second question - would it be a problem for me? My answer was immediate: "Absolutely not. I still really want to get to know you and I'm looking forward to our date tomorrow even more now." Mandy laughed and gave me another one of her looks. She probably thought I'm a tranny chaser - if only she knew! By then, lying in bed unable to go to sleep had become the norm. Now, I had a huge dilemma. No one, outside my small group of girlfriends who I went clubbing as Petra with, was aware of my secret. Should I leave it that way and just play the part of an "admirer" interested in my date's history. Or should I go the whole hog and tell her everything? I still wasn't sure as I drifted off to sleep. Friday had arrived - Mandy's last day at Planet and, as long as she hadn't had a change of heart, our date. Friday at Planet is dress down day but the women still look smarter than most working for other companies manage on a normal working day. I couldn't wait to see what Mandy would be wearing and she didn't disappoint - a miniskirt and black polo necked sweater, opaque tights and a really cute pair of high heeled stiletto ankle boots. For such a simple but cute outfit, the effect it had on me was profound. My fantasy life as Petra revolved around "clubbing" outfits, totally inappropriate for day to day wear but, as I looked over at Mandy I realised that hers life wasn't a fantasy; it was just the life of a normal woman and if she, a middle aged woman who, until some point in her life, had lived as a male could have that life, then so could I. After checking that Mandy was still on for the date, I excused myself from work a little earlier than usual and, after stopping off to make a few purchases at the local department store, made my way home to get ready. I took a quick shower and then made my way back to my bedroom to get ready. I unpacked my shopping - a plain black sleeveless dress and black stiletto court shoes and laid them out on the bed. Tonight, not only was I going to go the whole hog and tell Mandy everything, I was going to SHOW her too. By 7:00pm, I was in the bar of the local hotel where we'd arranged to meet. Mandy hadn't arrived so I ordered a bottle of champagne to celebrate my coming out. I spotted Mandy enter the bar, walk past me and sit down - she hadn't recognised me (but, there again, dressed like that, my own mother wouldn't have recognised me). Even as I walked over to her carrying the tray with the champagne and glasses, the penny didn't drop and it was only when I greeted her and told her that she looked amazing (her outfit was almost identical to mine and she'd really nailed it with her makeup) that her jaw dropped. "Peter?" she gasped. "I prefer Petra when I'm like this," I giggled. She told her that I looked stunning and then added, in mock indignation, "I think you've got some explaining to do, young lady!" So I told her everything. Absolutely everything from my earliest feelings that things weren't quite right to the emotional turmoil I was now suffering on a constant basis. And Mandy listened and reassured me that I had nothing to be ashamed of. Hearing about the amount of support she'd had on her own journey convinced me that things in my life had to change too and, by the time I got home, I knew it was a case of when, rather than if, I should transition. And if, at the beginning of that week, someone had told me that I would meet someone who would literally have changed my life, I would never have believed them! Epilogue A lot has happened in the couple of years since I first wrote this. It won't come as any surprise to you that I'm living full time as a woman and, thanks to the wonders of medical science, no-one other than my close friends and family knows my past. I couldn't wait to get started with my transition but Mandy advised me to take one step at a time and get used to the changes each step brought before embarking on the next one. She also advised me that, unless I saw a private gender specialist, I could wait months if not years for an appointment and two weeks later, thanks to her generosity, I had a prescription for hormones and my transition was well and truly underway. I carried on working in guy mode for a few months to give time for the hormones to take hold but when, one Monday morning, I had trouble buttoning up my shirt thanks to my developing chest, I knew the time had come. What surprised me most was HR's attitude when I told them; for all those years, I'd worried that transition would cause me to lose my job but now, as I sat in front of the HR manner I was being told that not only would they give me every support but was also being offered a promotion to become the company's diversity manager. I guess, in the 21st century, they were keen to improve their diversity credentials but who was I to complain? More salary equals more shoes and handbags and what girl can resist either of those? So on the Friday afternoon at the end of an eventful week, the HR manager and I stood in front of the whole company workforce who had been gathered together for "an important announcement." My heart was pounding, my mouth was dry and my hands were shaking; it's one thing being encouraged by a politically correct HR manager but quite another to expect support from male work colleagues who may think you've let the side down or female colleagues who may not view you as a real female and could demand that management bans you from using the female facilities. I needn't have worried! Joe from the warehouse was the first to come over. The best description of Joe is that he's a man's man whose life revolves around beer, cigarettes and football. Overweight, with a shaven head and covered in tattoos, he's definitely not a man to be messed with but he shook my hand and wished me luck. As I nursed my crushed fingers, he added that becoming a woman would be good for me because he'd always thought I was "too weedy to be a bloke." I was about to tell him what I thought of his comment when I saw him wink and add, "And if anyone gives you hassle, just send them to me and I'll sort them out." With Joe watching my back, my transition was certain to be a walk in the park! Seriously though, it was the girls" reaction that really touched me. A couple of them said that, even though I'd been binding my chest for a couple of months, they'd noticed that it had started to fill out and that I'd had both ears pierced (even though I didn't wear the studs at work) and all of them said that they couldn't wait to meet the new me. I went home happy and elated for a four week break during which time, I had facial feminisation surgery and breast enhancement. I won't lie and say it was easy or pain free but as my new face slowly emerged from the bruising, I knew I was making the right decision and couldn't wait to get back to work in my new persona. Even so, I was still apprehensive when I drove into the office car park and walked to the main entrance, my heels clicking and my skirt swishing as I walked. I took the lift up to my new office and as I walked out, I saw the toilets ahead of me, gents on the right and ladies on the left. I took a deep breath and entered the ladies. Of course, I'd used the ladies room at the club many times but, this time, it was different. My days as a male were now behind me and this was now real life rather than just a Saturday night fantasy. I walked over to the mirrors to check my makeup for one last time and there drawn larger than life in bright red lipstick was a heart with "Welcome Petra" written inside. I nearly cried tears of joy; I already had acceptance and I hadn't even set foot in the office yet. The rest of the day was a blur. Predictably, people were stopping by my desk for a chat, no doubt out of curiosity as to what sort of woman Peter had become. Even Joe wandered over and, in his inimitable style declared "My god, you look hot! If I wasn't happily married, I'd be asking you out on a date." I wasn't sure that I was quite ready for an afternoon at the football followed by an evening sinking pints with Joe and his mates so I drew more than a little comfort from his declaration of his happy marriage to his wife! And Mandy? We're closer than ever. We still laugh about our "date" and she's admitted to feeling a little disappointed that her hopes for an evening out with a good looking guy were dashed by an even better looking woman! But she's forgiven me for that and there's nothing we like more than going out as a foursome with our men who don't know how lucky they are!