The Deep and Dark Secret.

By Susan Brown

It was on Paddington Station in the heart of London that their eyes met across the crowded platform.

Susan’s heart missed a beat when she saw him glance at his watch and then look up at her. He smiled handsomely; his gleaming white teeth brightened her day and most of the platform.

She went wobbly at the knees. He was at least 6-foot tall, wide shouldered, about 29 years old, blond hair with liquid blue eyes. Testosterone appeared to be oozing from his body as he walked over to her and said, ‘Where have you been all my life.’

Susan giggled girlishly as she preened in front of this handsome suitor.

‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’

‘Only the ones that I think are beautiful, honey.’

The blond Adonis glanced down at his expensive looking gold watch and said. ‘The train is going to be late, do you fancy a coffee?’

Susan looked at the gorgeous hunk of a man and even though she had a deep dark secret, she could not refuse. It was a matter of moments before she found herself sitting opposite her dreamboat.

‘I’m Brett, by the way.’

‘My name’s um, Susan.’

He took her hands over the steaming plastic cups and leftover cardboard sandwiches. ‘What a wonderful name, it suits you. I know that we’ve just met but I feel as if I’ve known you all my life. By the way are you married?’

Susan shook her head so hard that her drop earrings hit the side of her face, leaving tiny bruises.

‘I’m single.’

‘Good, I just knew you were, I can tell the downtrodden married girls from a mile off. They’ve got their man and don’t need to look after their appearance any more, sad really. But you, I can tell make a special effort. Bleached hair, plenty of makeup, vivid red lipstick, satin blouse and a micro mini skirt, now that’s what I call style.’

Susan lapped all this up like a kitten on overdrive, even though she had this deep dark secret. She had never met a man like this before. Come to think of it she hadn’t met any men this attentive in her life. That is if you discounted the milkman who was a dirty old man, who was always offering her an extra carton of milk, if she went out with him and let him have his evil way.

‘Brett, that’s a nice name.’

‘Yes my parents chose it for me just after I was born.’

A look of sadness crossed his handsome, unlined and manly face.

‘What’s wrong?’ said Susan anxiously.

‘I was thinking about my parents, they died in the Amazon rainforest whilst on an expedition to find the lost wherethefukarwe cannibal tribe, shortly after I was born. We think that they were eaten. I was brought up by an elderly aunt, who left me all her money after she died in mysterious circumstances. I always thought of her as my second Mother, but that’s enough about me, tell me about yourself.’

Susan took a deep breath, ‘I’m 26 years old, I have a little bedsit above a chip shop and I’m a temp. What do you do?’

‘I’m a brain surgeon,’ he said modestly.

‘Wow, does that mean that you open peoples heads up?’

‘Yes, you are clever Susan. In fact today I’ve saved four out of six lives operated on. Not a bad batting average eh?’

‘Wonderful,’ simpered Susan.

Just then the announcer said over the loud speaker. ‘ We regret that due to weather conditions and the shortage of ticket inspectors, all trains are cancelled.’

Susan said ‘Oh no, how am I going to get home?’

‘Don’t worry your pretty little head, honey I’ll think of something, but in the mean time I insist that you come and have dinner with me?’

‘But I have nothing to wear!’ said Susan with horror.
‘You look wonderful just the way you are. You mustn’t change a thing.’

Susan could not refuse the handsome debonair brain surgeon, even though she had a deep and dark secret and a few minutes later they were in a taxi heading for a swish restaurant in the West End.

‘Ah Mr…Um Smith, nice to see you at our little restaurant again,’ said Luigi as he led the couple over to a secluded corner table.

Susan sat down in the dimly lit restaurant and marvelled at the plushiness of it all.

‘It’s a bit better than the restaurants I’m used to,’ she said. ‘I normally go to Macdonald’s or have greasy chips from the shop downstairs. That Luigi said that you are Mr Smith, shouldn’t he call you Doctor?’

Brett looked at Susan and flashed a hundred watt smile, ‘senior surgeons are called Mr not Doctor, Darling.’

Susan felt a thrill, being called Darling. It sounded so natural coming from Brett. She was falling for him in a big way, and even though she had a deep and dark secret, she hoped that this night would never end.

They ate their superb meal, each course surpassing the previous one; they spoke of their lives, hopes and dreams. Susan said that she wanted to find someone who would love and care for her and the children that she hoped that she would adopt because she could not have children of her own. Brett talked about his work, heroically saving lives and the exciting life he had, skiing in the winter, on his yacht in the summer, visiting places far and wide and meeting people almost as important as himself.

After the meal they danced for hours to the rhythm of the Latin American Strollers.

All too soon the lights started going out and the floors were being swept around them, it was just a subtle hint that it was time to go.

Susan looked at her watch, ‘It’s 2.00am!’ she cried ‘How am I to get home now?’

‘Don’t worry Darling, while you were powdering that pretty little nose I booked us in at a hotel around the corner. I knew it was getting late and I didn’t want you out on the streets at this time of night by yourself. There are all sorts of nasty people out there who might want to take advantage of you. Unfortunately, there was only one double room left in the hotel, and it’s the Honeymoon Suite. Will that be OK? I’ll sleep on the floor if you want.’

Susan looked up at the trusting, deeply tanned, strong face of Brett. It must have been the 2 bottles of champagne or the heady atmosphere and she didn’t even think of her deep and dark secret. It was as if it was someone else looking into those wonderful eyes that made her say in a voice that did not sound like her own, ‘You wont have to sleep on the floor tonight. I want to be folded in your arms all night long.’

Brett smiled lovingly as he led Susan to the door and out into the frosty night.

They walked to the hotel arm in arm, adroitly avoiding muggers, drunks, mobile phone salesmen and other undesirables on the way. Normally, Susan would have been frightened silly at being out in such a place late at night, but she felt safe with Brett. He was strong and would protect her with his life, if necessary.

They arrived at the Hotel, all marble and chandeliers. The bellboy took them to their plush room.

‘Ooh, it’s lovely’, said Susan, walking in and looking around in amazement.

‘Mmm,’ said Brett, looking around, ‘I’ve never been here before, thanks Dave, here’s a tip.’

‘Thanks Mr Jones… I mean Smith’

The Honeymoon Suite was all Susan dreamt it would be. A double poster bed covered with lace and flowers, and the room tastefully decorated in hearts, bows, arrows and crawling with cherubs.

Brett twirled her round and said ‘Do you like it Darling?’
Susan was still giddy from the champagne and giggled, ‘mmm, it’s a dream come true!’

Brett took her over to the bed and said, ‘I took the liberty of ordering this for you, do you like it?’

It was a nightdress of shimmering pink satin lying seductively on the bed.

‘Ooh it’s gorgeous, can I put it on.’

‘Of course Darling, it's yours.’

With that Susan rushed into the bathroom and quickly got undressed. She was naked and looking dreamily at the gorgeous pink satin nightie. She was about to put it on when she just had to use the toilet. She sat down and as she held her manhood between her fingers, she remembered her dark deep secret. She cried out in horror. She was a man dressed as a girl! How could she forget. The drink must have been stronger than she thought.

Her mind leaped back to how her dark and deep secret had started.
She had been secretly dressing as a girl ever since she tried her Mum’s panties on when she was 7 years old. For years she lurked around the neighbourhood near her home in a small village just outside of Leeds, pinching tops, panties skirts and all sorts of wonderful female attire from washing lines. She hid the girly stuff in an old suitcase under her bed.

When she was 18 she was caught stealing a silky top from the wash line of Mrs Bridges, who lived three doors down from Susan’s house.

There was an uproar as John (Susan’s male name) was chased down the street by people she thought were friends.

She was outed. Even her Mother and Father were ashamed of her and in minutes, she was out on the street with just a few personal belongings, her old case full of stolen clothes and little else. She was told never to return!
She drifted towards London, where she had heard that people were more tolerant and was lucky enough to get a temp job as a girl. She was lonely but at least she did not have to hide her feminine personality. She was small for a man and had long hair and a soft voice. She decided that she must try to live the life that she should have been born to, and as a girl she was happier just trying to forget her male past, until now!

There was a knock on the door!

‘Susan darling, are you OK, I’m breathless with anticipation and I also need to floss’.

‘I.. I cant come out’.

‘Don’t be nervous Snoocums, there’s nothing to worry about.’

‘Open the door and we’ll talk.’

Susan realised that she was putting off the inevitable, so she put on the nightie, unlocked the door and hesitantly went into the bedroom.

‘Wow honey, you look great.’

Susan couldn’t control her feelings so she ran to the bed, dived under the covers and started crying her eyes out.

She felt Brett’s strong muscular arms around her sheet covered body.

‘Come out and tell me what’s the matter. It can’t be that bad.’

Susan was getting a little light headed, what with being under the covers and nearly suffocating from Brett’s embrace, so she struggled out to find Brett looking at her with manly concern.

She looked away from those wonderful eyes and said in a small voice, ‘I have a deep and dark secret,’

‘How can a gorgeous, wonderful, lovely girl like you have deep and dark secrets,’

‘You will hit me when I tell you and throw me out on the street,’

‘Don’t be silly. It can’t be that bad and anyway, I have never hit a lady.. well I did hit my sister when I was 6 but she did lick my orange lolly so there were mitigating circumstances.’

‘That’s the problem.’

‘What's the problem.’

‘I’m not a lady.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I…I’m not a lady I am a man.’

‘So?’ Said Brett.

‘Are you going to hit me now,’ said Susan attempting to dive under the covers again.

She was grabbed by strong arms, lifted as if she was a feather and plonked down beside the satin pyjamad Brett.
‘Susan, I am a doctor and though I’m normally modest, a brilliant one. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were not completely a woman. We are trained to notice the Adams apple, slightly different body shape and the fact that you missed a few hairs from your top lip when you shaved, was bit of a give away. It doesn’t matter, I still love you with an ardour that defies belief, now lets make mad passionate love and forget your silly worries.’

Susan fell into his arms. Feelings welled up inside her and she could not speak, Her mouth was showered with kisses that seemed to suck her into her lovers taught muscled body.

They made mad passionate love time and time again on the bed, in the shower, on the floor, under the bed. There wasn’t a place that did not feel the love that they had.
After the final ecstatic peak of mutual multiple orgasms, they got off the top of the wardrobe and lay in each other’s arms and drifted off to sleep.

Susan slept deeply, the sleep of love. She had vivid dreams of Brett, of his mad wonderful lovemaking and his kindness and caring nature.

Then she awoke.

It was morning and Brett had gone.

On his pillow, still indented from his handsome head was a single red rose and a card saying simply. ‘Thanks.’

Susan had a shower to wash away the lovemaking of the previous night. She felt numb, realising that her dream was not coming true. She dressed herself and walked out of the hotel and into the world.

Susan left behind the rose, card and nightdress, it was too painful to be reminded that she had been taken in by someone who only wanted her for her body.

At the office later she worked on auto pilot, not telling anyone what had happened, too ashamed at her stupidity and how she had been led on by a man who didn’t even say goodbye.

The day finally ended and she found her way to the station. The train was on time for once and she got in and found her way to the end carriage where she normally went.

She sat down and pulled out her Mills & Boon love novel. She realised that it was about a surgeon who found love at a station.

Susan burst into the tears that she could not hold in any longer. All the disappointments of her life came flooding back, together with the memory of Brett and the loss of his love.

‘Here have this,’ said a kind voice giving her a handkerchief.

‘Thanks,’ she sniffed, blowing her nose loudly.

She looked up and saw Brett sitting there. There was no one else in the carriage as far as Susan was concerned, just Brett.

He was speaking and it finally got through to her what he was saying.

He was so sorry. He had had an emergency at the hospital. He had to go and save a young life, it wasn’t fair to wake her, he didn’t finish the operation until 7 O’clock. He ordered the rose and a message to be put on the bed before she had woken up, but the message was wrong. He had wanted her to stay there and wait for him. When he went back to the hotel, she had gone.

‘I knew that you were probably going home on the same train tonight so I just made sure that I was here. Did you think that I would leave you like that?’

Susan nodded, she could not speak.

Brett looked upset and said, ‘I’m not that sort of man. Anyway when we are married, you are going to have to trust me.’

Susan looked up sharply and said, ‘are you asking me to be your wife?’

‘Yes, I am Darling, will you?’

‘How can we get married, I have the wrong bits.’

‘I am a surgeon, you can have what bits you want at a very reasonable price and we can marry in a country that does not care about what or who you are, as long as you pay enough. Now will you marry me?’

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ cried the ecstatic Susan.

With that, the whole carriage cheered and clapped, but Bret and Susan did not hear, they were on another planet, looking forward to a lifetime of married domesticity, bliss and 2.4 children.

THE END

Copyright Susan Brown 2004