16 year old Darren Peterman, AKA Nancy, has just been stood up by her date, Tim Moreland. His little brother Sammy has his own female problems. Darren's Mom, Karen, thinks that she and Nancy should make the best of the situation and have a girl's night out.

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Chapter 13
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So I'd been stood up by Tim. Perhaps this would be par for my future dating life. After all, he did think I was a middle aged woman. Although my perceived age might have played a role in theory, it wasn't a factor here. Tim had gone back to his wife. Of course I'd never met the woman but it made sense to think she was probably in her forties. I knew I shouldn't take the rejection personally but I was.

My parents and Sammy did their best to console me. Sammy said that I deserved better. Mom and Dad agreed.

I was about to call it a night and go to my room, even though it was only slightly past six, when my dad suggested I could still go out. "You and your mom could have a lady's night out," he said.

Mom jumped on his suggestion and said it was an excellent idea. "There's no use sitting around the house and feeling sorry for your self," she said.

I asked her where we'd go.

"You and Tim were going to see a movie and then go to Johnny's Hideaway for drinks and dancing. "What do you say we skip the movie and go to Johnny's. Your father and Sammy and could drop us off and we could take a cab back."

"So at least I could get drunk," I said.

"Me too," Mom said. "That's why I thought your dad could drop us off and we could take a cab back."

A plan was made. Mom got her self ready while I hung out with Dad and Sammy. I wouldn't call it an interrogation, but Dad and I asked him some very personal questions about his wanting to be a girl and he seemed to have an answer for everything. I was beginning to think that Sammy's becoming a girl might be for the best, but then again…what did I know?

*******

As mom and I were walking into Johnny's Hide Away, she said "I shouldn't have to remind you of this but I can't help myself…just remember to call me Karen tonight."

"Sure thing, Karen," I said as I allowed her to walk though the door first. An older man in his sixties was on his way out as we were walking in and he held the door for us. We thanked him and he leered at us as we walked inside. I thought the guy was a perv but Mom seemed to get a kick out of it.

"Don't get too carried away," I said. "I doubt your husband would like the idea of other men ogling you."

"As long as they just ogle," my mother said. "Ogling is innocent and it makes me feel good. Keep in mind, I've been old for a long time, so I appreciate a flirt and a look."

I told her I was just kidding about "Bill" getting mad. "I'm sure he wants you to have fun tonight and so do I."

"Thanks, but your fun is more important than mine tonight. We just need to throw back a few drinks, have some conversation and do a little man watching," she said as she led us across the crowded dance floor to a booth overlooking the bar and dance floor.

I'd never been inside a bar before so I was a little awe struck. Obviously, I'd been in family restaurant/bars before, like Applebee's, but this wasn't Applebee's. It was dark and smoky. The place was built from wood and brass and mirrors. People sat along the bar drinking and talking. There was a live band and older couples were dancing to the music. It looked like something out of the movies, but the thing that caught my attention the most was all of the old people. The bar was crawling with men and women over forty. And the real crazy part was that I looked like I fit in with them.

"So is the first time you've ever been inside a bar?" Mom asked as she lit a cigarette.

I admitted that it was as I removed a cigarette from my case and lit it. "I've never seen so many older people in one place," I said as I exhaled.

"That's why people call Johnny's a middle aged meat market," Mom said. "You like it. Don't you?"

"I like it a lot," I said. "I feel like I fit in and I love being here with you like this. Its like we're really sisters."

Mom reached across the table and put her hands on mine. "I feel like we're sisters too!" she said. "I can't believe how close we've gotten since this started. Promise me that we'll only get closer," she said.

I called her Karen and told her she was my best friend. "I hope this doesn't sound too weird," I said, "but this is how I alway imagined it would be between us. You know…me being an older woman and us being peers and best friends."

Mom raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Yeah, me too," she said sarcastically. I had it all planned from the moment I gave birth to you. As soon as I saw your face, I told your father that I was going to turn you into a woman so that you could be my best friend."

"I guess this has been kind of crazy for you," I said.

"You could say that," Mom said. "But I don't know whose crazier. You for wanting to be an older woman or your father and I for letting you do it. The funny thing is that it doesn't feel crazy. It feels right. I just wish I felt the same way about your brother."

"So you don't think Sammy should be a girl?" I asked.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know what to think about Sammy. Right now I'm just treading water until it starts to make sense. He put your father and I in an awkward situation, so until we figure it out…"

"But I was there when you and Dad gave him permission to smoke and be a girl," I said. "You can't tell him he can do it and then tell him he can't."

"You're right. We can't do that, but we can't let him destroy his life on a whim either. You heard the way he was talking back at the house. He's all ready to throw on a dress and smoke cigarettes in front of his friends. That's a big change from being Sammy. Don't you think it would be better if we let him ease into it and try it on for size before we let the horse out of the gate?"

"So you and Dad are still going to let him smoke and dress like a girl but just not all the time."

"That's the plan for now," she said. "! I haven't talked to your father about it yet, but I was thinking he could have his girl time after school in the privacy of our home and then maybe go out in public whenever we think its safe for him to dress up."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," I said. "I don't want him screwing up his life either."

"Then that makes two of us," Mom said, "but just so you know, I'm not against his wanting to be a girl."

"Really? You could have fooled me," I said.

"Was I that obvious?"

"Kind of, but that's okay. I'm sure Sammy didn't mind and I know how much you want a daughter."

I crushed out my cigarette and lit another one as the waitress came over to take our order. I wanted to try a beer but mom asked for a carafe of wine and two glasses. She lit a cigarette after the waitress left.

"Hello. Mrs. Peterman?"

Mom and I looked over and saw Mr. Edwards, my former guidance counselor, standing just a couple feet away.

"Mr. Edwards! How are you?" Mom asked nervously.

"Fine, thanks. I hope I'm not interrupting. I was just sitting over at the bar and I thought I recognized you and I wanted to ask how Darren is doing?"

"Nancy and I were just talking about him. He left for Alaska this morning. Oh! How rude of me. The two of you haven't met. Mr. Edwards, this is Nancy Peterman, my sister-in law. Nancy, this is Mr. Edwards. He was Darren's guidance counselor."

Mr. Edwards smiled and extended his hand. "Its a pleasure to meet you Ms. Peterman."

"Please, call me Nancy," I said. "Would you like to join us Mr. Edwards?"

"I don't want to interrupt," Mr. Edwards said.

"Don't be silly," Mom said. "Nancy and i would enjoy the pleasure of your company."

"Well in that case, I'll get my drink and cigarettes. I left them at the bar and please call me Ken."

"And you can call me Karen," Mom said.

Mr. Edwards almost tripped over his feet as he dashed off to the bar. "Are you sure want him to join us?" Mom asked. "You just saw him yesterday. It could be kind of dangerous."

I shook my head in disbelief and said, "Yeah, I know. I can't believe I did that either. I'm not sure what I was thinking."

"Well maybe it won't be that bad," Mom said. "And if worse comes to worse and things start getting awkward, we'll just tell him we need to leave."

Mr. Edwards made good time and I scooted over in the booth to make room for him. He thanked us again for letting him sit with us. He told us that he didn't make the bar scene often and was uncomfortable with it. Mom and I were both looking at his wedding ring as he spoke.

"What about your wife?" Mom asked. "Doesn't she like to go out?"

Mr. Edwards looked down at the ring on his finger and sighed. "My wife, her name was Jill, she passed some time back and I never got around to taking off the ring. Do you think its disrespectful of me to be wearing it in here."

"I wouldn't call it disrespectful," Mom said. "However, a ring on your finger doesn't send out the right vibe if your looking to meet women. How long has it been since she died, if you don't mind my asking?"

"It will be four years in July," Mr. Edwards said.

I asked Mr. Edwards if his wife had been sick.

"No. Nothing like that. It was a freak accident. A tree limb fell on her while she was walking the dog."

I didn't know what to say and judging by the look on my mother's face, she was at a loss for words too.

"Did you say a tree limb fell on her?" I asked.

Mr. Edwards nodded sadly and asked, "Do you remember that bad drought we went though several years back? Well, that's what they said caused it. The tree got sick and weak and the branch just happened to fall as Jill was walking by."

Mom and I both told him we were sorry as he twisted the ring from his finger and moved it to his pants pocket.

"What about you Nancy? I don't see a ring on your finger. Were you ever married?"

Mom took a deep breath as I embarked upon a lie. I'd lied before and I'd lie for the rest of my life, but I realized the lies needed to be uniform. I'd made up a story about being married and having a child when I met Tim Moreland in the park. I wasn't going to do that again. The less people in my life that I had to account for the better off I'd be.

"Never married and never had children," I said with conviction.

Mr. Edwards nodded as he picked up his pack of Marlboros. "Does that mean you're married to your job?" he asked.

I knew I needed a job. After all, I was a 46 year old unmarried woman. So how had I been supporting myself all these years. "I've had several jobs but I've never been married to any of them. My last job was as a receptionist in Birmingham but I got laid off. That's why I moved here. I'm staying with my brother until I can get back on feet."

"Nancy is helping me with my real estate business," Mom said. "I'm hoping I can talk her into taking the exam so that she can be an agent."

"Real estate? That's a tough job with today's economy," Mr. Edwards said.

"It is," Mom said, "but the market is coming back. Its just coming back a little slower than we'd like."

Mr. Edwards asked my mom a question about the real estate business and I pretended to be interested. However, real estate was the last thing on my mind because I was totally lost in the situation at hand.

Here I was sitting in a bar with my mom and my former guidance counselor and I was dressed like a middle aged woman.

I got a squishy-tingly feeling in my groin that spread to my finger tips as I admired the classy looking cigarette case that I would need and use every day for the rest of my life. In many ways I think the Louis Vuitton case was a badge of my adult womanhood. A teenage girl, much less, a teenage boy would never possess such a trophy. Only an adult woman who had been smoking proudly for many years and had no intention of quitting would ever make such a large investment in an item designed solely for stylish self-destruction.

The awe and wonder I was feeling didn't end with the cigarette case. I could clearly see my reflection in one of the many mirrors positioned around the bar and I saw a two attractive middle aged women sitting in a booth with a balding middle aged man. And one of those middle aged women was me!

I shifted in the booth and felt my silky panties slide across my skin as my artificial breasts swung and settled according to the laws of gravity. The padding I was wearing made me feel curvy and substantial without being fat. I loved looking as if I had a little mileage on my chassy.

I tried my best to look at ease as if I'd been a woman all my life and I did look at ease, but I didn't feel that way. Suppressing my excitement was almost painful. I wanted to tell everyone what I was doing so that they could share in my excitement, but of course I couldn't do that.

I took a sip of wine and reached for my cigarette case. Mr. Edwards must have been watching me out of the corner of his eye even thought he was deep in conversation with my mother. He paused their talk just long enough to offer me a smile and a light. I thanked him and exhaled toward the ceiling. The squishy feeling washed over me.

In addition to feeling plain ole excited and turned on, I was also feeling proud of myself, not because I was pulling the wool over Mr. Edwards eyes but because I sincerely felt proud to be expressing myself as an older woman. Being Nancy was as much of a labor of love as it was sexually stimulating.

I devoured the attention and respect Mr. Edwards was pouring on me. The man had just lit my cigarette. Would he have done that for a teenage boy? I didn't think he would. But Mr. Edwards didn't see me as a boy. He saw me as a woman and a lady and I liked being seen that way.

His eyes followed my hands as I brought my cigarette to my lips. Was he thinking about what it would be like to kiss me? Wouldn't that be funny because I was definitely wondering what it would be like to kiss him, and now it turns out he isn't married.

As far as looks were concerned, Mr. Edwards paled in comparison to Tim Moreland. Tim was at least 2 or 3 inches taller and 30 pounds lighter than Mr. Edwards. Besides that, Mr. Edwards was going bald and wore glasses. But none of that mattered to me because I had always seen something more in him than just his looks.

The man had been my guidance counselor for nearly three years. Granted I never made much use of him as a counselor but when I had, he'd always been nice to me. Beside that, I wasn't the only one who thought he was a great guy. Everyone in my school seemed to love him. But on the other hand, I was probably the only one from my school who was thinking about kissing him.

I shuddered with a mixture of attraction and repulsion as I watched Mr. Edwards shake a Marlboro loose from his pack and light it. I had never kissed a girl that smoked, much less an adult man.

I smiled to myself as I pondered my warped obsession with smoking. Was it feminine or masculine? Was it trashy or classy? The answer always depended upon who was doing the smoking. I marveled at the irony as I inhaled a dose of mentholated smoke.

Two weeks ago I would have been afraid to ask a girl who smoked for a date because of my mother's feelings. She didn't like me associating with kids that smoked because she thought they were a bad influence. My how things had changed!

My ears perked up as I detected a change in the conversation between Mr. Edwards and my mother. She was telling him about Sammy and was asking for his advice.

"I know you're not a doctor," she said, "but I was wondering if maybe you've come across something similar as a counselor?"

Mr. Edwards bit his lip and nodded. "As a matter of fact, I've had the opportunity to work with several students with transexual issues. And I'll say this…It's just as difficult for the parents as it is for the child. The best advice I can give you and your husband is to be tolerant, supportive and understanding. Sammy could be going through a phase, and if that's the case, he'll do a lot better the less bad you make him feel about himself. And if its not a phase, you'll be doing him a great favor by making this easy for him. Have you taken him to see a specialist yet?"

"Not yet," Mom said, "but I do know a doctor who specializes in gender disorders. I'm going to call her on Monday but I was just looking for some advice on how to handle it in the meantime."

"It sounds to me as if you and your husband are doing the right thing. Just try to keep him grounded and reasonable until you've had a chance to have a doctor evaluate him," Mr. Edwards said.

Mom thanked Mr. Edwards for his advice while she fidgeted with her cigarette case. "There was something else I wanted to ask your advice on," she asked. "This is going to sound bizarre at best, but Sammy has gotten it into his head that smoking is well.. He thinks it looks feminine and kind of sexy. What do you think about that?"

Mr. Edwards blushed noticeably as he was clearly uncomfortable with my mother's question. "You want to know what I think?" he asked.

"I suppose that did come off somewhat confusing," my mother admitted. "Its just that Sammy has started smoking and he's so young, but I think he's addicted, and well… this is going to sound flat out crazy but he says he feels feminine when he smokes."

"And you and you're husband are debating whether or not to give him your permission to smoke?" Mr. Edwards asked.

It was my mother's turn to blush and so she did. "You must think I'm a horrible mother," she said. "First one of my son's takes up smoking and drops out of school and now my youngest son takes up smoking and wants to be a girl."

"No Karen, I don't think that all. If anything, I think you're a great mother. I'm a parent too and I know this isn't a perfect world. As parents and people we have to play the cards we've been dealt and I think that's what you've done with Darren and now you're doing it with Sammy."

Mom sighed and asked, "So are you saying you think its okay to let Sammy smoke and dress like a girl?"

"I don't think I'd go on record as saying its 'okay'," Mr. Edwards said. "If it were me I don't think I could ever give any of my children permission to smoke, but its not me and your situation is different and the last thing I want to do is make you feel like I'm judging you because I'm not. I think I'm trying to say you should accept the situation for what it is and do your best to control the damage. That probably sounds like a cop out on my part but its really the best I can do."

Mom shook her head and told him she didn't think he was coping out. "What you said makes a lot of sense," she said. "As a matter of fact I was pretty much thinking about it the same way."

"The important thing to keep in mind is that's its not the end of the world. As far as the smoking goes, well…you obviously smoke and so does Nancy and it certainly doesn't make you bad people. I'd even go as far as to wager that you both started smoking when you were Sammy's age. And I seriously doubt you're going to love your son any less if he's transgendered or a crossdresser."

"You're right and I agree with you," Mom said. "It just feels good to hear another person say out loud the things I've been thinking."

Mr. Edwards turned to me and said," See what you've been missing by not having kids?"

I responded with a polite laugh but followed it up with a sincere thought that countered his statement. "I can't imagine how difficult it is to be a parent," I said, "but I think I'd give almost anything to find out. I know it probably sounds crazy at my age, but I'd like to be a mom."

Mr. Edwards grinned and threatened to take me up on it. "I have two boys and one girl who could use a mother," he said.

"Really? How old are they," I asked.

"Lars, my oldest, is 16. Ben is 13 and Abby is 11."

"Does Lars know Darren?" Mom asked.

"No. We live in the Henderson district. As a matter, Lars took quite a beating against Milton last night. I suppose the score might have been even more lopsided if Darren had played." He turned to my mom and said, "By the way, I don't think Coach Holloway's contract is going to be renewed next year. He's a good coach as far as football is concerned but his temper makes him a liability."

Mom and I listened and asked questions as we talked to Mr. Edwards about his children. He was clearly proud of them and rightfully so because they sounded like good kids.

During a pause in the conversation, Mom touched my hand and said she needed to visit the ladies room. "Come with me," she said. We excused ourselves and Mr. Edwards slid out of the booth so that I could get out.

"Don't go away. We'll be right back," Mom said. "And if you see the waitress, would you be a dear and order us another carafe of wine."

"House white?" Mr. Edwards asked.

"Please," Mom said as we grabbed our purses and left for the bathroom.

Mom grabbed my arm as soon as we were out of earshot and said, "You like Ken. Don't you?"

"Why would you think that?" I asked. "He's my guidance counselor for crying out loud."

Mom corrected me by saying he 'was' my guidance counselor. "I saw the way the two of you were looking and smiling at each other," she said. "I think there's something there."

I argued that I was just being polite. I felt a spot of wetness on my cheek and wiped away a tear.

"Don't fight it 'Nancy" and don't be embarrassed by it either," Mom said.

"Okay, maybe I do kind of like him a little," I said as I followed her into the bathroom. "Was I being that obvious?"

Mom put her purse on the sink and took out her cigarettes. "That's what people do when they flirt," she said as she lit up. "They're obvious about it. That's how flirting turns into dating."

I turned and looked at myself and my mother in the mirror as I pulled out my cigarettes. "I can't believe this is really happening," I said as I lit a cigarette. "How do I look? Do I look okay?" I asked nervously.

Mom grinned and shook her head. "You look beautiful, Honey. I think so and so does Ken."

"He really thinks I'm an older woman, doesn't he?"

"Of course he does, and why wouldn't he? Your make-up and body padding is perfect! But its more than how you look. Its everything else and you're doing it all perfectly. The way you talk and the way you move your hands around while you smoke, you've got the whole thing down pat!"

"Do you think he really likes me?" I asked. "I don't want to go back out there and think he does when doesn't and wind up making a fool out of myself."

"Don't worry about Ken. I've been a woman longer than you have and I know when a man is attracted to a woman, and he's definitely attracted to you. I'm more worried about how you feel about this. Are you sure you want to go back out there? Because if you don't, we can tell him we need to leave."

"You don't think I'm ready. Do you?"

"I didn't say that and I'm not thinking it either," Mom said. "I just want to make sure that you think you're ready. We've had a good time tonight and we had fun without things getting out of hand. But that could change if you go back out there and he asks you out."

"I think I like him Mom. As a matter of fact, I'm sure I do. And I think I've liked him for a long time, like since I was a boy."

Mom bit her lip and shook her head. "Oooh Sweetheart. This is getting dangerous. He has three children, or did you forget that?"

"I know he does."

"Have you thought about what could happen if you and Ken get serious? You could wind up being a mother to three teenagers. I know you think you want to be a wife and a mother like me, but raising teenagers is a lot harder than raising young children, especially if you're a teenager your self, which you are."

I thought about my mother's words even though they weren't news to me. I had already touched upon them when Mr. Edwards mentioned having children. The idea of becoming a mother to three teenage children didn't turn me off in the slightest. "I think it would be kind of fun," I said.

"Fun?"

"Yeah, like as in weird or kind of cool," I said.

Mom grinned and cocked her head. "Only you would think something like that," she said. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. You're excited by the taboo and bizarreness of the situation, aren't you?"

I blushed and shrugged my shoulders.

"This is your life and I'm not going to tell you what to do with it," Mom said. "I just want you to be happy and I agree with some of the things you're doing but not all of the things you're doing, but like I said, this is your life. But I'll tell you something I've learned from experience. Nothing stays new and shiny forever but you're still stuck with it after the luster wears off. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, or do I need to be more clear?"

"I get what you're saying but I can't help wanting what I want. But I promise you that I'll always make the best of it- no matter what."

"Okay," Mom said. "Like I said, its your life. So what do you want to do about the rest of the night? Do you want me to go home and leave you alone with Ken?"

*******

My mother and I returned from the bathroom and after some strategic bantering, Mom bowed out and left me in the care of Mr. Edwards. Needless to say, I was thrilled to be alone with him.

We talked about nothing. We talked about his children and his job at Milton High School. We talked about my fictitious life as well as Darren, my alter ego. We laughed and we smiled. He lit my cigarettes for and poured my wine. He was a gentleman and he treated me like a lady.

I felt like a middle-aged Disney princess. Johnny's Hide Away was a magical ball room and Mr. Edwards was my balding Prince Charming. The tingly-squishy feeling pulsated from my groin.

This is what respect and admiration feels like I thought as I lifted the cigarette to my lips and gave it a feminine pump. Feelings like those had eluded me as a boy but as a woman they washed over me.

I looked around the nightclub as I talked to Mr. Edwards. An occasional admiring eye would fall upon me and I knew they were seeing an attractive middle-aged woman on a date with her boyfriend. Or maybe they thought he was trying to pick me up. Regardless of what they thought about Mr. Edwards and I as a couple, they saw me as a respectable and attractive middle-aged woman and that knowledge stirred my groin.

I was obviously in the midst of one of my most coveted sexual fantasies which explained my arousal. What was there not to like? I was dressed up like my mom and I was smoking like a woman in front of an older man who had feelings for me.

As a woman with a boy's mind I knew exactly what Mr. Edwards was thinking. He was thinking that he'd like me to suck his dick. And he was also thinking about fucking me! Of course he thought I had a real pussy and why wouldn't he? I looked like I should have one and some day I will, I thought. I'll have a pussy just like my mom and then I'll really be like her! But what to do until then?

I laughed at something he said while I thought about offering him my asshole. Of course I knew I wouldn't do that, but still…I was thinking about it. I was thinking about him entering me while I laid on my back in the missionary position. No doggy style for me! Oh no. If I was going to let myself be fucked in the ass by a man then I'd be fucked as a woman and not some stray dog.

I reached for my cigarette case and withdrew a long white Virginia Slim. Did Mr. Edwards think I looked sexy with my girly cigarettes? I saw him shift in the booth beside me as he offered me a light and I steadied his hand with mine. The counselor had a hard-on and he had it for me.

"Thank you," I said sweetly as I exhaled toward the side of his face. He inhaled noticeably as he accepted my thanks. Why is it that men will breath in the second hand smoke of a woman but they'll cringe from the smoke of another man? I'm really a boy, Mr. Edwards, I thought as I took another puff and exhaled close to his face. How would you feel if you knew you were breathing the smoke produced from a 16 year old boy's lungs? I bet you wouldn't be smiling like you are now. Would you still want me to suck your dick if you knew the truth?

I cringed as I realized how mean spirited my thoughts seemed, but they weren't directed at Mr. Edwards. All the hostility was directed within. He wasn't the one betraying me. I was betraying him and he didn't deserve it. Mr. Edwards was a nice guy. He'd die from shame if he ever discovered the truth, which was why I needed to keep it from him.

I wasn't a psychopath. I knew right from wrong and what I was doing to Mr. Edwards was definitely wrong but that didn't stop my hormone inflicted penis from trying to stand up.

How do other transexuals handle this, I wondered? Are they forthright and upfront or are they cowardly and selfish like me?

I inhaled and touched my lips with my tongue before exhaling as femininely and seductively as possible. His eyes lit up and I knew I had him. He was mine and I had caught him and I wouldn't be throwing him back. I wasn't playing catch and release. I was playing for keeps.

His face tightened and a slight scowl formed at the corners of his mouth. Something was on his mind. What was it?

"I was wondering if you might like to dance with me?" he asked.

My toes were too tingly to dance but I accepted his request with a smile and the touch of my hand. He got up from the booth and led me to the dance floor. I didn't recognize the song but it was slow and I could tell it was old. He put his hands on my hips while I draped mine over his shoulders.

He was shy so I closed the distance between our bodies by nuzzling my face into his neck. He smelled like smoke and sweat and Old Spice. When I kissed his neck I felt his lips on my ear and I giggled.

I was dancing like my mother taught me, listening to the music and sensing his lead. Step softly, I thought. Step softly and be gentle. Move like a woman and use my hips.

When I felt his hand inch cautiously toward my ass, I raised my head and found his lips with mine. My kiss was an invitation to explore my body with his hands. Don't be afraid of me, I thought. I won't bite.

Anyone who saw the kiss wouldn't have thought much about it. After all, it wasn't one of those "get a room" public displays of affection. I didn't taste his tongue with mine but it was electric all the same.

I had kissed a man on the lips for the first time in my life and I knew it wouldn't be the last time. It was repulsive yet exciting. I was grossed out and turned on at the same time.

Time moved as slowly as the music as we danced beside the other couples. Our feet slowed and our dance became a gentle rocking hug. Our hips were close enough that I felt his penis swell against my thigh. He knew that I felt it and his face turned red as he apologized with his eyes.

I whispered in his ear for him not to be embarrassed. "I'm flattered," I said. And then I kissed him again on the lips. He was relieved by my gesture but he apologized any way.

I felt cheated when the song ended because he took a step back and let go of my hips. I missed being close to him and didn't like the separation. He thanked me for the dance and led me back to our booth while holding my hand.

Once we were seated, he lit my cigarette and one for himself. I noted that it was only his third cigarette of the evening while I had lost count of the number I had smoked.

"I either smoke a lot or you don't smoke much at all," I said as he returned the lighter to his pocket.

He grinned and said, "Maybe its a little of both. I'm kind of in the closet with my smoking so I don't smoke often, especially not in public. As a matter of fact, my children don't know and I'd appreciate it if you would keep my secret if you ever meet them."

"Why such a big secret?" I asked. "You're a grown man."

Mr. Edwards blushed and said, "I don't think my children see me as the smoker type. My wife was the smoker. I didn't take up the habit until after she died."

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you start?"

Mr. Edwards rolled his shoulders and exhaled toward the middle of the bar. "I started because I missed her and this is going to sound embarrassing, but my wife smoked Virginia Slims, the same as you, so that's what I started on." He picked up his pack of Marlboros and said, "I only started smoking these once I figured out I was hooked. Not that I smoke in public very often, but when I do, I don't think Virginia Slims would go over so well."

I smiled without laughing and told him that made a lot of sense. "They are kind of girly," I said as I paused to take a puff.

"What about you? Why did you start?"

I smiled as I thought about what I should say and then settled on the truth. "I started because my mother smoked and I wanted to be just like her. I guess you could say she's my role model."

"Well if she's anything like you then I'm sure I'd like her," Mr. Edwards said. "How old were you when you started?"

It was a simple question and I could have told the truth without getting in trouble but something inside of me pushed me to lie. I decided that since it was my make-believe life, I'd have some fun with it. "You're going to think I'm horrible," I said, "but I started when I was seven."

Mr. Edwards' eyes popped. "Seven! You're kidding. Don't tell me you were inhaling at that age."

"Oh yes," I lied. "You should have seen me. I was a mess. Every time I had the house to myself, I'd put on my mother's clothes and smoke her cigarettes and pretend I was her. I felt so grown up, smoking like a woman. I'm sure I must have looked like a stupid child but in my mind, I was a grown woman just like my mom."

"And did she ever find out?" he asked.

I bit my lip and nodded. "Oh yes. She found out. She caught me when I was 10, and by that time I was too hooked to quit."

"Are you saying your mother gave you permission to smoke when you were only 10 years old?" Mr. Edwards asked in astonishment.

I cocked my head and said, "That's my story and I'm sticking to it. But I'm more interested in your story right now. Do you hide your smoking from everyone or just your kids?"

Mr. Edwards took a deep breath and sighed. "Pretty much everyone," he said. "I guess you must think I'm pretty silly, huh?"

"No, I don't think you're silly," I said. "I think you're a very smart man with a good heart. We all have our secrets and some are worse than others. Yours doesn't sound very bad to me, but its yours and I'll keep it for you if you want."

"Thanks. I'd appreciate that," Mr. Edwards said. "I've got another secret I could tell you if you want to hear it."

"Oh really? What is it?"

"I think I like you," Mr. Edwards said. "And I'd like to see you again."

My head swooned and my heart jumped. Oh my God, I thought. He really does like me. "Are you asking me out on a date?" I asked nervously.

"I guess that just proves how bad I am at this if you have to ask. "Yes," he said. "At the risk of you rejecting me, I'm asking you for a date."

"I'd like that very much, but just so you know, I'm going out of town on Monday for a week and when I get home, I'll need some time to recover."

"Recover from what?" Mr. Edwards asked. "That is if you don't mind me asking. I shouldn't ask anyway. Its probably personal."

"It is personal," I said, "but I don't mind mentioning it to you. I'm having some surgery done in Mexico. Some of it is necessary and some of it is cosmetic. I figured I'd knock a couple of birds out with the same stone."

"So you'll be gone for a week?" he asked.

"Yes, but I won't feel much like seeing anyone when I get back. I'll be very sore and I'll probably look like a mummy with all the bandages that go along with the aftercare."

"And then I'll be able to see you again?" he asked.

"Maybe once or twice," I said. "But I have another surgery scheduled before Christmas. So what I'm saying is, these next two months are going to be kind of busy and a little painful and I wouldn't be very good girlfriend material."

"Is that a rejection?" Mr. Edwards asked.

"Not at all," I said.

"In that case, I'll accept it as an invitation," Mr. Edwards said. "Can I see you tomorrow or will you be too busy packing and getting ready for Monday?"

"I am going to be busy but I could spare an hour or so. How about lunch?" I asked.

"There's an Italian restaurant on Aberdeen street?" Mr. Edwards said.

"Aldo's?" I asked.

"Yes, thats it. How about you meet me there at 12:30 after church. I'll have my kids with me so it wouldn't be much of a date."

"That sounds nice. I'd like to meet your kids," I said as I looked at my watch. "Its getting late, but I think I have time for one more dance if you're up to it?"

******

The drive from Johnny's Hide Away takes less than 20 minutes which was not enough time for me to be alone with Mr. Edwards. I'd been in similar situations as a boy and had taken my time on many occasions. In a teenager's world it was expected for the boy to try parking with a girl.

I knew all the out of the way places a boy could take a girl to park. I wondered if Mr. Edwards knew about them. On the other hand, I realized Mr. Edwards might not think it was appropriate. After all, he wasn't a teenager. I also realized there was a very good chance that he was afraid of offending me, so he'd probably be on his best behavior, even though I didn't want him to be.

I knew I'd see him again on Sunday, but that would only be for an hour or so with his children in public. After that I'd be on a plane to Mexico. And after that I wouldn't be in a position to see him until my skin healed.

My new skin, I thought. Its going to look like old skin. I laughed.

"What's so funny?" Mr. Edwards asked.

"Oh nothing," I lied. "I was just thinking about when I was a kid in high school and the things we'd do after a date."

"When I was a kid, I used to like to get ice cream after a date," Mr. Edwards said. "Would you like some. There's a Dairy Queen on the way."

"No thanks. Besides, its probably closed," I said.

"So what kind of stuff did you like to do after a date?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter," I said. "It was a long time ago."

"I see an open Burger King," he said. "You want go through the drive-thru and get a milkshake?"

No, I didn't want a milkshake. I wanted something else but I said a milkshake would be nice and told him I liked Vanilla.

As we were pulling out of the drive-thru I told him about the park close to my house, the one I'd taken Sammy to. "There's a lake," I said. "We could go there and drink our milkshakes, unless you need to get home soon."

"I thought you were the one that needed to get home soon," Mr. Edwards said as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Not that soon," I said. "I have a little time."

*****

Mr. Edwards parked in front of the lake and turned off the car. "Let me know if you get cold and I'll turn the engine back on."

I told him I was fine and scooted closer to him, which gave him the idea to put his arm around my shoulder. My milkshake was somewhat thin and melted from the drive but it still tasted good.

His fingers kneaded my shoulders as we talked about the stars over the lake. "Its really pretty," Mr. Edwards said. "I've never been here at night. Have you?"

"Not at night," I said. "But I've taken Sammy here to play with his friends."

"What made you think about coming here?" he asked.

As a male, I knew exactly what Mr. Edwards was up to. He was fishing for inspiration and trying to find his way with me. I knew from experience that he'd want to go as far as he could with me without going too far. He was just scoping out the boundaries.

I wondered what a real woman would say to such a question. Would she lie or play games or would she be forward and direct?

"I don't know. Maybe I just wasn't ready to go home yet," I said as I laid my hand on his thigh.

"I wasn't quite ready yet either," he said as he moved his leg so that his privates inched closer to my hand.

We spent the next several minutes quietly debating our next moves as we sipped our milkshakes and stared out at the lake and the stars. He'd go as far as I'd let him go. Of that I was sure. And I wanted to go far but not so far as to have him lose respect for me. I was amazed at how easily I could think about the situation from a woman's point of view.

A woman's point of view, I thought as I rubbed Mr. Edwards leg through his pants. Life looks good from here, I thought.

I felt soft and small in his embrace yet powerful as well. He's the one sitting behind the wheel in the driver's seat, but I'm the one in charge. I looked down at his lap and smiled without him seeing me. The shape of his growing penis was unmistakeable as it struggled against the fabric of his pants. I could touch it or I could ignore it. I felt him willing me with his mind to move my hand closer and so I did, teasingly close but still missing the target.

What does a 50 year old penis look like, I wondered? What would it feel like in my hand? How would it taste and what would it feel like penetrating my body?

These questions scared me and excited me. I was disgusted and turned on at the same time.

Will he think I'm a slut if I unzip his pants to take a look? Suddenly I felt damned if I did and damned if I didn't. I liked this man and I wanted to see him again but I was asking him to wait until my new body was ready. What if he met someone while I was gone or while I was recovering from surgery? Shouldn't I give him something to whet his appetite and keep me in the forefront of his mind?

The more I weighed the risk of doing something versus the risk of doing nothing the more stressed out I became. This isn't even our first date, I thought. Well technically it might be. After all, he did buy me a milkshake. Cheap date, I thought as I stared down at his pants.

I thought about some of the stories I'd read on the web about boys becoming girls. Not only did they become girls but they also became cock hungry bimbos. The former boys in the stories threw caution to the wind and absorbed sperm like an insatiable sponge. I'd beaten off to a few stories like that but had never thought they were anything more than poorly written fantasies.

So here I was in a story of my own making, but unlike a piece of fiction, the consequences of my actions would be real and lasting. If you really like him, you'll suck his dick, I thought. But if I really like him I'll do nothing of the sort because I want him to respect me.

To suck or not to suck. That is the question, I thought to myself. I half way thought about calling my mom to ask for her opinion. But I'm supposed to be a grown woman, I thought. Grown women don't ask their mothers such questions because they already know the answer. But I'm not a grown woman. I'm a boy and Mr. Edwards is a man.

"I'm sorry but I need a cigarette," I said. "Do you mind?" I asked as I reached for the floorboard and picked up my purse. "I don't want to smoke in your car, so I'll just go outside."

Mr. Edwards stopped me before I could open the door. "Its cold outside," he said. "I need a cigarette too. I'll roll down the windows a bit and we can smoke in the car."

Mr. Edwards started up the car and cracked both the windows before turning off the engine again. He lit my cigarette for me before taking the pack of Marlboros from his shirt pocket and joining me.

"I'm having a nice time," he said.

"Me too," I said as I slipped under his arm.

"Are you? he asked.

His question surprised me and I'm sure the confusion showed on my face. "You don't think I'm having a good time?" I asked.

Mr. Edwards sighed and said, "It just feels like we're on a date and I can't figure out why a woman like you would go out with a guy like me."

Ah hah, I thought to myself. Mr. Edwards has a problem with self-esteem. "A guy like you? You're not an axe murderer by chance. Are you?"

He laughed and said, "No, not really. I've always been more of a chain-saw kind of guy."

I knew he wasn't being serious but I raised an eyebrow all the same.

"Oh my God," he said. "You didn't think I was serious. Did you? I'd never hurt you. I don't even own a chain saw."

"Then that makes two of us," I said as I kissed him on the mouth. I could have drawn back but I lingered to see what would happen. Would he kiss me back?

I felt his mouth open and I closed my eyes to receive his tongue. It was wet, warm, and smoky. So this is what its like to French kiss a man, I thought as my thoughts faded into his kiss.

Like everything else in my life, the kiss was not simple or straight forward. It felt wonderful and made me feel wonderful but only because I blocked out how incredibly gross it was. He wasn't a girl and the day before he'd been my guidance counselor. But that was in the past. I was a woman now and that made everything okay.

Don't stop kissing me, I thought. Don't ever stop! I'm a woman. Watch me kiss. See me smoke. Hear me roar.

Mr. Edwards pulled away for a breath of air. He looked sick, as if he knew the truth. I flicked an ash out of the window and asked if I'd done something wrong.

"You? Something wrong? Of course not," Mr. Edwards said. "I just can't get it though my head that this is really happening. I'm not crazy and I don't want to scare you but its just that I feel like I've known you a longer than just tonight."

"That's okay," I said as I placed my hand directly on top of his penis. "I feel the same way, like we've known each other before."

His penis grew beneath his pants and filled the palm of my hand as he groaned. I placed my cigarette between my lips and let it hang as I undid his zipper and placed my hand inside.

I smoked hands free and smoke billowed from my nose as I pulled the flesh colored monster out of the hole in his pants. I can't imagine it looking very ladylike but I was a smoker and I wasn't ready to part with my unfinished cigarette.

Is this how a middle-aged woman behaves on a date, I wondered as I massaged his penis? Am I going too fast? Am I going too slow? Are there any rules or am I just making it up as I go along?

Whatever it was that I was doing wrong or doing right, Mr. Edwards seemed to be enjoying it. And why wouldn't he? I knew what I was doing. After all, I had a penis of my own that was begging for attention.

Mr. Edwards was obviously feeling good but how did I feel? The only way to describe how I felt was to say I felt psychotic and schizophrenic. Even people with multiple personality syndrome only experience one personality at a time. I felt like I was in a room with all my personalities and they were screaming at each other.

One of me says that I'm excited and turned on. Another of me screams that I'm a faggot. There I am asking myself if I'm being fair to Mr. Edwards. He doesn't know you're a boy. He thinks you're a woman. I feel like a woman! But you're boy screams the side of me that is cringing in the room full of mixed emotions.

Mr. Edwards looked as if he was in pain but I knew he wasn't. He was on the verge of spilling his sperm in my hand and he was trying to hold off. It hurts so good. Doesn't it, I thought?

I knew exactly how he felt. He was running from his orgasm, trying to make it last. You can run but you can't hide, Mr. Edwards. I'm going to make you cum in my hand. I'll see you throw your head back and groan as the orgasm overtakes you and it will be because of me.

I thought about going down on him as my hand moved up and down his shaft. It would be so easy, I thought. And hadn't I always wondered what sperm tastes like? That's gross, I thought. But really it isn't. Not if you're a woman and I am a woman, I thought as my hand raced up and down his big stiff penis. And then suddenly it was all academic.

Mr. Edwards starting grunting and groaning almost as if he was crying and my hand became warm and sticky. I looked down to see sperm erupting from his penis like hot lava from a volcano.

He uttered the words, "Oh my God," as his muscles went limp.

"Feel better?" I asked innocently. I still wasn't sure what to do with the sperm. A lot of it was in and on my hand and some had dripped down his shaft.

"That was unbelievable, Nancy," Mr. Edwards said. "But you didn't have to do that. Ooh your hand! I made a mess on you. Maybe I've got some napkins in the glove compartment. I'm so sorry."

"I don't want to drip on your pants," I said.

"Don't worry about my pants. I can always wash them and I will. The important thing is that we get cleaned up. As a matter of fact, you can wipe your hands on my pants if you want to."

"That's okay," I said as lifted my hand to my face and licked the sperm off them.

Time stood still.

What the fuck did I just do? Did I really just lick sperm off my hand? Oh my God! I did. That's so gross. Don't make a face. Whatever you do, don't make a face, I thought as I forced myself to smile.

Judging by the look on Mr. Edward's face, he was impressed. "I didn't mean for you to do that," he said.

"Its okay," I said as I bent down to lick the rest of him clean. Why not, I thought. I've already gone this far so I might as well see it through.

His pubic hair was rather gray, which didn't come us a surprise. The only reason I noticed is because I was looking for it. I cleaned his limp shaft with my tongue and tasted his sperm all over again. It actually took some effort to clean the sperm that had gotten tangled in his pubic hair. The coarse hair felt rough against my tongue.

The job was done and he was clean. I could have stopped there but I didn't. I covered his penis with my mouth and sucked. It was small and spent but that quickly changed.

Maybe this is a mistake, I thought as I opened my mouth to let his penis escape. I didn't want to get him all hot and bothered again, but I was surprised that a man of his age could get hard again so soon. I kissed the head of his penis and sat up in my seat.

"That was fun," I said. Fun, I thought. Had I just told him that was fun? It kind of was but what kind of a woman says something like that?

Mr. Edwards sighed and said, "That was so nice. You made me feel so good."

"Maybe I didn't want you to forget about me while I was gone," I said coyly. "I need a cigarette. Do you mind?" I asked as I opened my case.

"You're not the only one," Mr. Edwards said as he took out his pack of Marlboros. He lit my cigarette and asked if there was anything he could for me. "It doesn't seem fair that I should get all the fun," he said.

Well at least he used the word 'fun' too, I thought. "What makes you think it wasn't fun for me?" I asked. "I had a good time too," I said as I snuggled up against his shoulder.

****

It was a little past twelve when Mr. Edwards took me home. He walked me to the door and gave me a goodnight kiss. He asked me if we were still on for lunch tomorrow and I told him I was looking forward to it.

The living room was empty as I closed the front door behind me and hung up my coat in the closet, but I could hear someone, probably my mother, moving around in the kitchen.

Mom popped her head out from the kitchen as I was closing the closet door. "Did Ken come inside?" she asked.

The expression on Mom's face changed from cautious to giddy. "Did you have a good time?" she asked.

I nodded enthusiastically and told her I had a great time and then all of a sudden, without any warning, I broke down in tears.

Mom rushed to my side and grabbed me up in her arms. "What happened, Honey?" she asked. "Do you want to talk about it? There's some coffee in the kitchen.

I wiped at my tears and told her that I didn't know why I was crying.

Mom took me by the hand and led me to the kitchen. I sat down at the table and took my cigarettes out of my purse while Mom poured some coffee. Mom lit a cigarette for herself and asked me to tell her what happened.

"Did he kiss you?" she asked as she exhaled toward the ceiling.

"He did but I think I kissed him first. We were dancing when it happened," I said. "It wasn't much, just a peck, but that was how it started. But we stopped by the park on the way home and we kissed a lot, real kisses, the French kind with our tongues."

"So what did you think? Did you like kissing him?"

"At first I thought it was gross. He's a guy and I'm a guy and I'd never kissed a smoker before."

"But you're a smoker too. Isn't that just a little bit hypocritical on your part?"

"It doesn't bother me that he smokes. He doesn't even smoke that much. It just kind of surprised me at first, but that parts okay."

"So what was the part that bothered you?" Mom asked. "Did the two of you go farther than just kissing?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Did you give Ken a blow job, Honey?"

"Not exactly, but kind of," I said. "I gave him a hand job and it got kind of messy but there weren't any napkins in the glove compartment."

"So you used your mouth to clean him?" Mom asked.

"Oh Mom!" I cried as my eyes filled with tears. I turned away because I couldn't bare for her to see my shame. "I put it in my mouth and I swallowed his sperm!"

Mom got up from the table and hugged me. "Its okay, Sweetie. It really is. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why doesn't it feel right," I wailed. "I feel like a fag. I put Mr. Edwards' dick in my mouth!"

"Did he force you to put his penis in your mouth?" Mom asked.

"No."

"Then you're saying it was your idea and you did it because you wanted to?"

"I don't know if I wanted to do it or I just wanted to see if I could do it."

"Then maybe it was a little bit of both," Mom reasoned. She kissed me on the cheek and returned to her chair. "Did you ever think about that?" she asked.

I shook my head in frustration. "Its just so weird Mom. Pardon my French but this whole thing is just so God damn fucking weird! Do you think maybe I might be crazy or something?"

"Dr. Girardi wouldn't let you do this if she thought you were crazy and neither would your father and I. But everyone would understand if you changed your mind. And even if you haven't changed your mind, there's no reason why you have to rush into this. I can call the airline and cancel the flight if you want to think about it for a while."

"Don't do that," I said. "I'm not going to change my mind. I just feel weird about it. Its hard to explain but being with Mr. Edwards tonight make it feel so real to me like it wasn't a game any more, not that I thought it was a game because I know its serious stuff."

"Its very serious stuff," Mom said. "Once you do this, there's no going back. You won't be a teenage boy anymore. For better or worse, you'll be a middle-aged woman like me and you'll be expected to live your life as such."

"I know that Mom and I promise you that its what I want. It just that doing that stuff with Mr. Edwards was so gay."

"I thought you liked men?"

"I do," I said.

"Then stopping thinking of yourself as a silly boy and start thinking of yourself as a mature woman and start acting like one."

"You're right," I said as I put out my cigarette and moved to light another one. I wiped my eyes and sat up straight in my chair.

"So what do you think about you and Ken?" Mom asked. "Do you think the two of you are getting serious?"

"I think so. I'm going to meet his family tomorrow after church."

"And you really like him?"

"I don't think I would have put his penis in my mouth if I didn't. I think I like him a lot."

"In that case you're going to have to get your head straight about sex. You didn't do anything wrong tonight. But that doesn't mean I wish you would have waited to be so intimate. Now that you've done it once, he's going to expect you to do it again. This is going to sound vulgar, but once a cock sucker always a cock sucker. You know that, right?"

"Yes," I said as I exhaled. "I guess that's one of the reasons it bothers me, because it sounds so nasty. You don't know what its like in a locker room. The things guys say."

"And you don't know the kinds of things women say when they're alone. Being a cock sucker isn't a bad thing in my world. As a matter of fact, its one of the most loving and intimate things a woman can do for a man. But from now on, lets just call it oral sex. I think that sounds a lot nicer."

I laughed and said, "Okay. Oral sex it is."

"Are you starting to feel better?" Mom asked.

I nodded and said that I was.

"In that case, you better get some sleep. You'll want to look fresh when you meet Ken's children."