The Weekly Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3394 by Angharad Copyright© 2023 Angharad

---

This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
~~~~~~~~~

I lay there for a moment, Simon's passion had been slaked. He had threatened to shag my brains out; I told him he was welcome to if he could find any. He certainly gave it his all, but given his enthusiasm ended with me in hospital once before, he curbed his passion just enough to make gentle and long lasting love to me as it enabled me to love it too and him. I hadn't really seen him for two or three weeks. The government was trying to blame the banks for everything that they, the government, had caused and the banks were trying to avoid the blame and to try and reduce the interest rate where they could to help people. The public thought the banks were just greedy but they were reacting to the environment and there were plenty of greedy money grabbers out there. Simon did his best not to be one of them, or the worst of them and they had actually sent out a memo to try and avoid mortgage closures because it caused a breach of trust and lost them customers who were already distressed and in danger of losing their homes.

Enough of the business world. Simon was tired but after a super dinner, he reverted to his 'Tigger' schoolboy personality and when I led him up the stairs was almost coy in his manner, as if he was shy of being alone with his wife in a bedroom. It was a bit like how we were when we were experimenting with a relationship, when we were both a bit shy, me because I was terrified that Simon would discover I wasn't a complete woman and him, because his record with women was pretty bad and he didn't want his title to either scare me off or become a gold-digger. The former was much more likely in my case. I wasn't used to money, especially on the scale that Simon's family possessed or procured it.

Also our lives were so different. Simon knew and acquiesced to the fact that he would probably succeed his father in the family business, he had studied economics at UCL and done a Masters at LSE. I was doing a Masters in biology/ecology and had no idea what came next, possibly a doctorate if I was thought capable of it and which meant I could avoid making a decision as to what I wanted to do for a living. The only thing I was certain of was that I'd be doing it as a woman, once I got my act together which was a waste of time because like Darwin, my hero, I was trying to be too certain about everything which meant I just thought about things. Darwin would probably still be thinking about publishing his theory of Natural Selection if Russel Wallace hadn't caused him to act.

I was just drifting along, sort of enjoying my procrastination and then the whirlwind which was Stella Cameron, hit me in the thunderstorm, pulled me out of my lethargy and as they say, the rest is history.

One of the problems of being a trans woman is that, unless they use part of the intestine to form the vagina, the cavity is rather dry, a problem many post-menopausal women have, so a lubricant is necessary. It takes away some of the spontaneity of doing it just anywhere (within limits) because you have to lube before penetration or risk discomfort or injury to the woman, so it is a nuisance, although we are probably of an age now where the kitchen table no longer holds such an attraction, especially if there is a comfy bed upstairs and some privacy. Mind you, a house full of teens can be rather intimidating on occasion as most of them are full of hormones which are giving them all sorts of messages but don't have the freedom of their parents to exercise their urges. I understand their situation and appreciate some can't get pregnant at the same time I'm trying to act like a parent and bring stability into their lives which means boundaries and all the complications that brings.

Once they were living away from home, they could do as they wanted and accept the consequences and responsibilities, but I wasn't prepared to allow them to have partners sleep over, except in the case of Sammi who was years older than the rest were and who had certain privileges, plus she had probably been having sex for weeks before we were introduced to them. She had tried men, but nothing seemed to work until she tried women partners and then it did.

There is all this nonsense spouted by TERFs but the reality is that plenty of transwomen have female partners who consider themselves bisexual or lesbian and that is rarely publicised. There are also some transwomen who live with other transwomen who may or may not have have had SRS, and they seem to get along fine. So why can't society allow two people who have fallen in love and want to make a commitment to just get on with it? What is happening in the States is ridiculous almost risible, except real people are being hurt by the bigotry and the same is starting to gain a foothold in the UK. The rightwing politicians really are scraping the barrel or should that be the pan, because they are acting like real shits. I won't get into the Christianity argument again because I firmly believe the founder of their religion was a more humane and decent chap than these C21st bigots.

After having to go to the bathroom to deal with a certain dribble, I made it back to the sleeping Simon and cuddled into him like old times, and like old times, he put his arm around me and held me to him. I was bit warm, despite my dealing with a cool bathroom, but I felt safe and loved by my man and soon went off to sleep. I took him a cup of coffee up to bed the next morning, and he yawned at me and smiled, "God, I was shagged out last night."

I acknowledged that he was seemingly tired, and had showered, dressed and had my breakfast before I went to disturb him. I was just as tired and sore in a place that he wasn't, but tried to pretend I was okay. However, when he suggested it again, I declined, saying that I had much to do including organising dinner because David had a night off. Simon grumbled but drank his coffee and then went to shower.

Sarah was good with the younger ones although they weren't so young or little anymore, but she supervised their breakfast while the other of my student-aged children zonked in their beds. Teenagers and mornings don't usually go together, Sarah being the exception, although she was a little older and I paid her something for her labours.

Simon arrived downstairs and announced we were eating out for dinner; he'd already phoned the green room at the hotel the bank owned and which would accommodate us whether it was a big or small party, which is a part of owning the place. It does have its uses and I have never had a bad meal there yet. All we had to do was decide how many were coming. Sarah was brave enough to wake the sleeping 'dogs' and they all decided to come because the alternative was that one of them would have to cook. Apparently, one with a super intelligence thought it was a poor decision to allow the cook a day off when the cover was also playing truant. When that was relayed to me Simon dashed up stairs and read the riot act. He thought they were being ingrates and told them so, reminding them that their mother had been working all week, while they had lain in their beds half the day, though Danni had gone for training at her football club. Tomorrow, said Simon they were rising bright and early and going for a run, he would accompany them on a bike.

He obviously hadn't heard the forecast, it was for thunderstorms, which is where my narrative started, however, I wasn't planning on getting on a bike for a few days, as somewhere felt rather tender and might be even worse if I allowed Simon's amorousness to continue tonight. It wasn't to be, Sarah and I accompanied by Lizzie and Cate went to top up the fridge for fruit and breakfast cereals, and the younger girls were just starting to take an interest in clothes and I knew we would be waylaid by them and almost counted on it.

Sarah is a nice kid and her exam results looked promising. Unlike Danni she didn't have the distraction of football, so she got down to her studies, like Trish did, and was profiting from such dedication. When I remarked on it she told me that she was so grateful that I had gone out a limb for her both in allowing her to be herself and also in getting her a place at the university. It was nice that she remembered though I told her that the best way to thank me was to get a good degree and help me with the youngsters. She seemed on course for both.

Danni had been distracted by playing or being part of the Lioness' squad, which got her a lot of kudos around the university but did nothing for her studies and I told her that the fame would be short-lived but her career as a biologist wouldn't be, so she should pull her finger out. She'd pass her exams but whereas Sarah was heading for a first, unless she tried much harder, she was heading for a three or at best a 2-2.

Some say that education or youth is wasted on the young because maturity is useful for the decisions youngsters have to make which of course they don't have, but later on unless you are exceptional, you don't have either the time or energy to do degrees and other qualifications. We have one or two mature students compared to hundreds of youngsters. Sometimes older heads can assist their decision making but most youngsters would rather be down the union getting drunk.

Arguably, the system is wrong expecting young people with very little experience, to make life-changing decisions about their careers but I can't see it changing soon. I do try to keep a few places for older students who have decided that what they thought was a good career wasn't what they really wanted; we also counsel them about the financial constraints of being a student again and if they have families and mortgages what the risks are. Those who are really determined and committed we try to help as much as we can but they really have a hard time.

As I expected we were ambushed by two youngsters seeking some new outfits and I bought some new jeans for Sarah as well, she deserved a treat now and again. Then we went to the supermarket and bought the place out by the shopping we placed in the boot and this wasn't the big shop, David did that online most of the time.

We had lunch out and knew the others would struggle but they weren't paralysed so they could look after themselves, it's just that I spoil them so they don't try too hard. I would hear cries of child neglect when we got back but I was inured to such moans as there were plenty of things they could eat in the fridge, it just needed some organisation to do so. I half expected Simon to go down the rugby club for pie and chips but he didn't and he made the girls prepare something for all of them and clear up afterwards. This new dynamism was most impressive and I said so. He just reminded me that he was a manager and the same principles applied, he identified a workforce and set them to the job in hand, which turned out to be jacket potatoes and cheese with salad. I was very impressed and he beamed with pride. All I had to do was replace David's stock of jacket spuds before he needed them, oh well, the supermarkets are open tomorrow.