SEATTLE GAL
Chapter Two
Learning About Jessica
 
by Susan Jean Charles
 
Jessica starts learning about being an adult woman.

 © 2012, by Susan J. Charles. All rights reserved. My thanks to Holly H. Hart for her editing.

I was briefly confused when I woke up the next morning. I usually was standing at attention when I awoke, but this morning I had a feeling of lack. I wasn’t feeling anything between my legs, but still felt faintly horny. I moved and felt a strange shift on my chest. Then I remembered. I was Jessica and hadn’t untaped last night. I brought my legs together and enjoyed not feeling any equipment down there. I reached down and felt an indentation leading to the beginning of a crack. I smiled at the feeling. I’d left Mark back at the suite.

In spite of all we’d bought, I’d forgotten to buy a robe. So I left my room clad just in my baby doll. I enjoyed the way the silky material brushed against my legs. I went into the bathroom, and remembered to turn around, pull my panties down and sit to do my business. I patted dry and started toward the door when I looked in the mirror. I stopped and grabbed a hairbrush. I had to do something with my hair before I’d show myself to anyone.

A few strokes with my new brush and my curls were back in their proper place. Then I left the bathroom. Karen was in the kitchen in similar attire. “Morning,” I said. “Anything I can help with?”

“Could you make the orange juice?” Karen asked. “I’ve got the coffee going and we’ll have eggs soon. Still like yours over easy?”

I nodded and pulled a can of frozen orange juice out of the freezer and opened it. Soon we were sitting at the kitchen table.

Over coffee, I looked over at Karen. “I can’t thank you enough for everything. I feel so different now. It was a really strange feeling waking up like this this morning.”

Karen took a long drink and nodded at me. “I knew I had to do something. And then I remembered how much more alive you’d always seemed as Jessica than you did as Mark.

“Don’t take this wrong. I’ve always loved Mark and thought of him as a brother. But when you became Jessica, you sparkled. You seemed to let yourself go in a way Mark never could. You attacked life, while he withdrew from it.”

She sighed, looked down and then up into my eyes. “When you got together with Cindy, I was happy for you and wanted everything to work. But I had some reservations. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Mark. I didn’t want to spoil anything. But I can tell Jessica things I could never tell Mark.

“I want you to go get dressed and put on your makeup,” Karen continued. “Then I want to show you something.”

I took a quick shower, remembering to wear a shower cap to keep my hair dry. I dried quickly and put on my bra and my padded panty. Then I chose a blue scooped neck sleeveless top and pulled on my jeans. I felt a thrill as the jeans came up and fit snugly against my crotch. They were certainly a tighter fit than I’d been used to wearing for the last few years. Yet there was something comforting, reassuring about feeling that area covered and protected in some way. It just felt good.

I took a little time with my makeup, since it had been some time since I’d had much practice. But in a little less than an hour, I was back out in the apartment’s living room. Karen was doing something with her cell phone when I came in. She hit the “send” button and called up a picture on her laptop. She turned the laptop toward me and showed me the screen.

“Who is this?” she asked.

“Cindy, of course,” I answered. Then I looked again. The figure in the picture was wearing a blue scooped neck sleeveless top that I’d never seen Cindy in. And her hair was red instead of blonde.

Have you ever seen the picture with the old lady where if you wait long enough it kind of “pops” and became a much younger woman dressed for a night on the town? That’s what happened to me. The picture of Cindy on the laptop screen popped and I realized I was looking at the picture Karen had just taken on her cell phone. The picture was of me.

I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. I was confused. I had not realized how much Cindy looked like Jessica.

“I saw the resemblance when I first met Cindy,” Karen said. “I didn’t say anything because I saw how happy you were. Besides, no one who knew you and Cindy even knew Jessica. Except me. No one else had any idea.”

“But what does this mean?” I asked.

“Well, I’m no psychologist,” Karen said. “But you and Cindy were so much alike. You shared a lot of the same interests, liked a lot of the same things, looked at the world alike. It’s like you were made out of the same mold.

“So I wasn’t about to stir up any questions with Mark. But now I wonder. Jess, I wonder if on some level, Mark was attracted to Cindy because she was a lot like you.”

“You mean I was essentially marrying myself?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Karen replied. “All I know is that I was happy Mark was happy. But looking back, I wonder if Mark might not have expected Cindy to be exactly like Jessica.

“That wouldn’t work, you know,” she said looking at me. “Jessica, I helped teach you how to act like a girl, but you weren’t raised a girl. We have certain ideas programmed into us from the first doll we get, that you didn’t get.

“We’re trained to be maternal. To take care of others. To be pretty so we can attract a guy who will marry us and make us happy ever after. And we expect certain things from guys. They’ll take care of us, protect us, show us they love us.

“But if you really get down to the bottom of things, the biggest question we have when we look at a guy is, would I want to have this man’s children? That’s it in a nutshell. Thousands of years of evolution rolled up into one overriding question.

“It’s the basis for a lot of how we act, how we dress, how we respond to guys. And you didn’t have that. You didn’t have to have that and most guys don’t have a clue about it.

“So I wonder if you didn’t expect Cindy to act like Jessica would have, and ignored what Cindy’s needs and drives were.”

I was silent. My mind was whirling. Karen had given me a lot to think about. She was right. I knew how to act like a girl, but I hadn’t understood what was behind those actions. I really didn’t have a clue about what being a girl was all about.

Then guilt hit. “Have I done something terrible to Cindy?” I asked Karen.

“No Hun, no.” she said. “Very few of us think about or understand any of our motives for what we do. I’ve heard most girls end up marrying their fathers, and expecting their husbands to act just like their fathers, and most men expect their wives to act like their mothers, except in the bedroom.” She leered at this. “You just got a little off-script because of who you were.”

“I guess you’re right,” I said. “But I still feel like I did something horribly wrong.”

“You didn’t, anymore than any of us do. You just need to learn more about what it means to be a girl,” Karen said. “Then you’ll understand.

“You know, I was always a little jealous of you when we were teenagers.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because at the end of our weekends together, you could change back to being a boy. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be a guy. It was fun pretending to be Keith, but I like being a girl just fine. But you had a choice that the rest of us girls didn’t have. You could go back to being a guy, with all their power. And once I got my curves, I couldn’t change if I’d wanted to. I was stuck with being who I am.”

I had no answer for Karen. I’d learned a lot but I needed time to process it. “Maybe I need to go back to being Mark,” I began...

“No!” Karen said firmly. “There’s not been nearly enough time for you to gain the distance you need from Mark’s situation. In fact, I wouldn’t have dreamed of telling Mark what I’ve told you this morning. Mark couldn’t have handled it, but you’re enough of a woman to be able to handle it and process it. I think you need to stay Jessica for several weeks, minimum.

“Besides,” Karen said grinning. “I’m looking forward to some serious face time with my best girl friend ever. We need to go out and take in a chick flick.”

We did, although Karen had to remind me to grab my purse on the way out. It was one of those films with an interchangeable blonde girl got herself into a situation and met the one man who could help her realize she had whatever she needed within herself. You’ve seen dozens of versions of the same film.

But I found myself identifying with the blonde. She needed to look inside herself to understand how she’d gotten into trouble and how to get out. The guy was just there to provide her with a few ideas to make her see the light. Of course, it also helped that he was cute and she got him in the end. And, yes, I realized that I was thinking of the guy as cute. I said I identified with the girl didn’t I?

We decided not to go out again that night. I had a lot to think about. Karen suggested I draw myself a bubble bath and I settled into the warm water and just relaxed. I’d untaped before I got in and found it felt strange. I really didn’t like feeling things rubbing between my legs after a couple of days without them. But I had enjoyed having them in the past when I was with Cindy. I thought about how we’d fit together as if we had merged into one complete whole.

'But', I thought, 'had I been looking for a partner or to make myself whole?' I’d always felt something lacking when I was younger. I felt closer to it when I started playing dress up with Karen and a little sad when I’d gone back to being a boy. But then, Cindy had been looking for something that she thought she found in me too. For some reason, it hadn’t worked and she’d found someone else to try to find it with. Looking at it from that standpoint, I guessed I really couldn’t blame her too much. She was different from me and we were lucky to be living in a time when we could explore other options.

I finally noticed the water was growing cold and most of the bubbles were gone. I got out of the water, dried off and made sure to retape before pulling my silky nightgown on. I felt like I’d turned a corner, but I wasn’t sure what it was yet.

The next few days, I got used to being Jessica full-time. Karen made sure I only spent a few hours a day in front of the computer, just enough to finish the current projects. She’d told clients that Mark was going to take a much needed vacation before taking on any new work.

As she was at the office during the day, I wandered around her apartment looking for things to do. I cleaned it from top to bottom for her. While I was doing that, I found a stash of cookbooks which looked brand new. Karen told me she’d wanted to really learn how to cook and had gotten the cookbooks to help. But she’d been too busy at the office and they’d finally migrated to a cabinet in the kitchen.

Since I did have the time, I decided I would learn how to cook. I studied the books and decided what to try first. Looking online, I found a little gourmet shop in Karen’s neighborhood, and went there for ingredients. I was a little apprehensive being out in skirts during the daytime, but was soon at ease when everyone took me for the girl I portrayed.

The meal turned out okay. Both Karen and I agreed it was better than fast food. So I studied the cookbooks and began making frequent visits to the gourmet shop. It turned out that the shop had cooking classes twice a week and I signed up. In no time, I was greeting Karen when she returned from work with exotic dinners.

The result of all these rich meals was that Karen and I had to start working out regularly at her health club. I noticed all the classes they offered and signed up for a yoga class and a dance class. The dance class was even taught by a member of the Seattle Seahawks cheer squad, the Sea Gals. Soon I was more flexible and moving more gracefully.

I hesitated at the entrance to the women’s locker room the first time, but a glance from Karen told me I’d better go inside before someone started wondering why this girl didn’t want to go in. Once inside, I was fine. I made sure not to take off my panties so everything looked okay. I found I wasn’t much interested in looking at the other women in various states of undress. But I did find myself comparing myself against them. I was curious how I stacked up to the real girls. Most of the differences were in my waist. I was just too skinny to have a real good waist.

The result of all this was that I was getting fitter than I’d ever been. Karen said I was looking better with a little added weight, but I didn’t want to gain too much.

I also started to pay attention to my skin. Given the styles of women’s clothing, I was exposing a lot more of my body on a regular basis than I ever had before. My skin was all right for an occasional night out, but it needed work. So I started learning about moisturizers, how and when to apply them.

This of course, led to me deciding on my smell. Karen made me realize that every woman has a smell which is uniquely her own. I recalled the smell I’d associated with Cindy, and I realized that Karen too, had a smell I associated with her. It was, Karen explained, a combination of her own body chemistry and the smells of the soaps, moisturizers, lotions and perfumes she used.

A lot of trial and error followed. My sense of smell became more trained. I finally decided, with the help of Karen’s nose, on a combination that left me smelling faintly of rose, which could be increased when we went out with some careful use of perfume.

I totally immersed myself in being Jessica. Mark was still too painful. And, I reasoned, the more of a girl I became, the more I might understand what Cindy had felt and why she’d done what she did. Karen and I spend hours on her sofa talking about how Karen had grown up and what her mother had told her. I began to really see how females have a much more realistic view of the world. And some of the things I overheard in the women’s locker room at the health club reinforced my education.

We’d been going to the health club for about three weeks when I stepped backwards off the running machine without looking back. I was tired and didn’t look. So I collided with someone and we both ended up on the floor. I looked up to see this cute guy I’d been watching out of the corner of my eye for a few days laying almost on top of me.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t look before dismounting.”

He smiled and said, “It’s all right. The treadmill can kind of throw you off.”

He helped me to my feet and looked like he’d like to say more, but the club has a strict “No Fraternizing” policy to keep the sexes from hitting on each other. It makes it a more comfortable place for us girls to let it all hang out while we’re exercising without feeling harassed. It also protects the cute guys from having a bunch of us girls hanging all over them, too.

He smiled at me and said, “Be careful!” and walked off. I immediately looked at myself in the mirrors on the club wall. What I saw wasn’t a pretty sight. I had no makeup on except mascara. My face was pouring sweat and my hair hung down in clumps. My tee shirt was soaked and my sports bra was clearly visible. I saw myself blush with embarrassment and headed for the locker room, fast. I toweled off my face, pulled on my sweats and headed out of the building. For obvious reasons, I didn’t shower until I was back at Karen’s. By that time, I’d cooled off and wasn’t so flustered. But I really realized why the fraternizing policy was in effect. When I was there, I wanted to exercise, not worry about how I looked to guys. Or to women either, I hastily amended.

I calmed down enough to revisit the health club on Friday, but Cute Guy wasn’t there. That night Karen and I went out clubbing again. I wore my blue, off-the-shoulder dress with the hem that came to mid-thigh. I was still a little amazed to feel like I was wearing nothing and still be completely dressed.

I was on my way back from the Ladies Room when I felt a tap on my bare shoulder. I turned around and there was Cute Guy smiling at me. “I thought I’d seen you a little earlier,” he said. “You have better moves on the dance floor than you do at the gym.”

I smiled back at him and replied, “I’d have better moves in the gym too if guys didn’t keep pulling me off the equipment.”

“Hey, don’t blame me if you don’t know how to use a treadmill,” he replied, smiling.

The smile was what stopped me from another smart remark. I threw up my hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay, you win,” I laughed. “I never did get to thank you for catching me.”

“You could do that by letting me dance with you,” he replied.

I left my purse with Karen and joined him on the dance floor. We gyrated back and forth to the beat for a couple of dances. It felt so good letting myself go, moving my body to the music. I felt so alive and aware of my body. My dress moved with me, occasionally gently touching my legs. My earrings bounced back and forth pulling my ears in delightful ways. My breasts pulled against my chest as I twisted and turned. I wasn’t thinking, I just was one with the beat.

Then the music shifted to a slow dance. Cute Guy took my right hand and I put my left hand on his shoulder. I was glad Karen and I had practiced slow dancing back at the apartment. It had been a long time since I’d had a slow dance with a boy.

Cute Guy pulled me closer and I settled into his embrace. “Now that it’s a little quieter, my name is Phil,” he said. What a relief! I didn’t want to keep restricting the name “Cute Guy” to only one guy.

“Hi, Phil, I’m Jessica,” I replied.

He swung me around and I brushed up against a bulge. ’Oh my God!’ I thought. ’I’m giving a guy a hard-on. That’s a change. I hope he doesn’t expect anything.’

That startled me a little. With another “pop” I realized I was thinking like a girl and hadn’t really been aware of it. ‘No’, I amended, ‘I wasn’t thinking like a girl, I was being a girl.’ And with that thought, I relaxed even more into being Jessica.

Phil and I talked a little more and I invited him back to our table. I introduced him to Karen. Phil remembered her from the health club. He, we learned, was an investment banker. Karen told him she was the general manager for a software company and I admitted to being on vacation from a computer company. Karen added that I’d just gone thorough a breakup of my marriage.

When she said that, I dropped my eyes and nodded my head. “I really don’t want to talk about that,” I said softly.

Phil took the hint and steered the conversation back to sports. He ended up inviting Karen and me to his house Sunday to watch the football game. “It’ll be casual,” he said. “Team jerseys and shorts mostly. We gather around 12 or 12:30.”

We parted with Phil’s address and phone number. On the way home Karen turned to me.

“You did the flirting really well, Jess. My only advice would be to look into his eyes a little more.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” I said. “I was just interested.”

“Could have fooled me,” she replied. “Looking at him, eyes down, back at him. And then the kicker, you touched his arm when you were laughing at one of his jokes. That’s flirting in my book.”

I felt myself blushing again. I hadn’t been flirting. Really!

Karen had a couple of oversized Seahawk jerseys that she used for sleep shirts. We decided to wear those to Phil’s house with shorts and sneakers. When I pulled on the jersey, it came lower on me than my shorts. Karen gave me a nasty look.

“If you really wanted to give everyone a thrill, you could forget the shorts and only wear your panties under there,” she pointed out.

I actually considered it for a second. But then I thought about how I’d have to sit to avoid flashing anyone. And what would show if I jumped up in response to a good play?

No, I decided. Shorts were better protection.

I fixed up a big bowl of dip I’d been wanting to try from my cooking class workbook. Then we went looking for Phil’s house.

Talk about nice! These investment bankers must do okay. Phil’s house had two stories and was right on the water of the bay. It was huge! He had a big recreation room in the back with one wall of all glass looking out onto the water. On another wall was a 58 inch plasma HDTV with surround speakers. Several sofas and chairs were grouped around with coffee tables in front of them. Various snacks had already been set out and I found a place to set my bowl.

Several guys and gals were already there and Karen and I found a place on one of the sofas. Phil stopped by to welcome us and pointed out the kitchen. “There’s soft drinks and lots of beer in the fridge.”

I walked out to get us some drinks. When he said “Fridge” I was expecting a refrigerator like the kind we had in Karen’s apartment. Phil’s “fridge” was a shiny stainless steel, industrial strength monster, filled with several cases of various brands of beer. Soft drinks were in a tub of ice beside the fridge. I grabbed a couple of Cokes and turned to go back to the TV room. Then I saw the rest of the kitchen. The gourmet cook in me thought I’d died and gone to heaven. The kitchen had a cooking island with grill in the center. A complete set of pots and pans was hanging off the vent over the grill. A griddle was across from it. Around the room was lots and lots of counter space and enough cabinets to hold an entire cruise ship’s dishes.

“What do you think of my little galley?” Phil’s voice asked behind me.

“My god, you could feed an army!” I answered. “So you do a little cooking now and then?”

“I don’t,” he said. “This all came with the house. But it comes in handy when I entertain. When I have the bank officers and clients here, I cater and we eat in the dining room through there. He pointed to a door at one end of the kitchen. I peeked through and saw formal dining room with a table that could seat up to about 20 people.

“It’s beautiful!” I said.

“Well, if you want to get ahead, you’ve got to impress the right people,” he said.

I was about to ask more, but he put his arm around my waist. “Come on, it’s almost kickoff!”

We hurried back to the TV and were soon cheering on the Seahawks. I hadn’t been very interested in football, but I did know enough to know who the Seahawks were, and who the Chargers were. I asked Phil a couple of questions to clarify some of the slang the announcers and guys in the room were using.

During half time, I noticed a few bowls of chips were getting kind of low. I went to the kitchen, found the bags of chips and filled the bowls back up. As I sat the bowls down back in the TV room, I noticed my dip was pretty popular. I returned to the kitchen to find more dip and got to know some of the girls who were hanging out in there. Just before the second half started, I yelled out to see if Karen wanted a refill on her drink.

“Could you bring me a brew, too?” Phil asked. So I returned with two more cokes for us and a beer for Phil.

The Seahawks took the second half kickoff and one of their runners snaked his way down the field to score a touchdown. I screamed and joined several of the other girls jumping up and down. My breasts were going up and down a little behind the rest of my body and made my jersey bob up almost into my face. As I looked down, I was doubly glad I’d worn shorts under the jersey. Otherwise I’d have given everyone a real show. I hadn’t realized that having boobs like that could affect a big top that much.

After the game, Karen and I joined the other girls in cleaning up. We thanked Phil for a great afternoon and he asked me out for dinner. We made plans to get together the following weekend, and I made sure he had Karen’s address and phone number. I’d almost given him my cell number, but remembered in time that it was in Mark’s name. It wouldn’t do for Phil to see Mark’s name popping up on his screen when calling me. I made a mental note to get that changed as soon as possible.

On the way home, I found myself thinking about the girls at the party. I’d certainly fit in with them and enjoyed that. But, I’d really admired the skin on several of them. They glowed. I knew I looked okay, but I didn’t look as good as they did. My moisturizing program had done a lot for me, but I still wasn’t there. I reached over and ran my hand down Karen’s arm. It was soft in a way mine wasn’t.

“What,?” Karen said.

“I was just admiring how smooth your skin is,” I replied. “I’m working on it, but still aren’t there.”

“Well, I do have an advantage,” she said. “My girl chemicals contribute a lot to it.”

“Yeah, you do have an hormonal advantage,” I conceded. “They also keep those arms smooth even though you do a lot of heavy-duty lifting at the health club.”

“It’s the way things work,” she said. “They give us curves and soft skin and all we have to do is go through five days of hell every month to pay for it.”

“I’d wondered why you weren’t your usual peppy self,” I said. “Coming on, are we?”

“You know it!” she said. “This is one part of being a girl that you get to miss, you lucky bitch.”

I smiled, but decided not to respond. Karen was clearly not in a good mood. But I got to thinking that this was one aspect of being female that I wasn’t experiencing. And, it was a very important aspect. Women had to take that time into consideration every day when they were planning anything or just simply working. Karen was able to take it in stride so that most of the time I hadn’t even known when it was happening. She’d told me back in high school that it was just something all girls learned.

The following Friday, I was all in a dither. I’d laid out almost my entire closet trying to decide what to wear. When Karen got home, she helped me narrow it down. Finally we decided on the LBD that she’d gotten me that first day she brought Jessica back.

Karen pointed out, “It was kind of your birthday dress, and now it’s your first date dress,”.

“We’ve gone out before,” I said.

“Yeah, but those were boys. Tonight you’re going out with a man,” she replied.

“And I’m going alone,” I gulped. Realization set in. When we were teens, Karen and I always went on double dates. There had been no way I was going to risk being alone and found out. Tonight would be different.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” I said.

“Look,” Karen said, “if you are worried about him finding out anything, don’t. You’ve been showing yourself off at the health club, at clubs and even at his house. If you haven’t given yourself away by now, you aren’t going to.”

“But what if he …” I asked, suddenly very worried.

“You’re a nice girl and don’t even kiss on the first date,” Karen replied. “Relax, you’ve got a lot more power on a date than you think. You can always say ‘No.’ Remember, a couple of minutes ago you couldn’t wait to go out with him.”

“I guess you’re right,” I said, thinking that I really should be concerned about the fact I had been looking forward to the date. Then I rationalized that if I was ever to really understand women, I had to see how we related to men.

Phil was suitably impressed when he saw me. Karen had let him in the apartment and then called me so I could make an entrance. I’d taken one last look at myself in the mirror before heading down the hall. My hair, my dress, my makeup, my nails, everything was perfect! Jessica was ready.

We drove to one of the fancier restaurants in town. Heeding Karen’s last minute reminders, I waited in the car until Phil came around and opened my door. I swung my legs around and let him pull me out of the seat. He gave the car keys to the valet and put his hand on my back to guide me to the door. It felt nice to have someone open the door for me. I gave him my wrap and waited, purse in hand, while he checked my wrap and his coat. Then we walked to the greeting area of the restaurant. We were immediately escorted to our table.

As we walked across the restaurant, I felt several pairs of eyes checking me out. I smiled as I saw more than one man looking at my legs. Karen had insisted I wear stockings and a garter belt rather than pantyhose.

“You’ll feel them more than you would pantyhose,” she explained. “So you’ll have a constant reminder that you’re a lady.”

She was right. I felt the garters move with every step as they held up my smoky gray stockings. My heels forced my leg muscles to tighten into a very sexy shape. It felt really good to look like this and know that other people appreciated how I looked.

I still wasn’t used to having someone hold a chair for me as I swept the skirt of my dress back under me and sat down. But I liked it.

In fact, I liked everything about being a good looking girl in an upscale facility such as this. The menu I was handed didn’t show any prices. Everything looked so good that I asked Phil what to order. He took care of ordering for both of us and I smiled in appreciation of his choices.

We talked and I remembered to keep looking at his face and into his eyes and to keep the conversation about him. He admitted he was young to be in such a high position at his bank. He’d been an economics major at a leading Ivy League school. As one of the brightest and best of his class, he’d gotten his choice of jobs. He’d chosen Seattle because of its position as a leading Pacific Rim center. It had been a good fit for his talents and he was well on his way up the corporate ladder.

I adapted my life story, changing it from a boy’s life to a girl’s. It was best to keep it simple so I’d be able to remember what I’d told him. Of course, it helped that there’d been a lot of Karen and Jessica time when I was younger. I avoided telling him about my successes with software, telling him only that I’d taken some computer classes in college and had gotten a job utilizing what I’d learned. I described my job as just “sitting in front of a screen all day.” I told him I’d been through a bad breakup a while ago and was spending time with Karen as a vacation to get over it.

I tried to keep the conversation off of me as much as I could. We compared books we’d read and music we liked. I told him I’d recently taken up gourmet cooking as a hobby. That led to a promise to cook him a meal.

At one point I had to excuse myself and grab my purse to go to the ladies room. By this time, I’d been Jessica long enough that I didn’t even hesitate going through that once-forbidden door. I waited in line and went in a stall when my turn came. I discovered going in my current underwear was a little better. With the garters holding up my stockings, I only had to pull up my dress and pull my panties down to do my business. Not having to deal with pulling the pantyhose down or up again made things a little easier. I still checked to be sure the back of my dress wasn’t stuck in my panties before I left the stall. I reapplied my lipstick, did a quick twirl of my dress to see everything was in place and went back to our table.

It was still early enough after we’d finished, so Phil took me dancing. Once again I found myself feeling so alive moving with the music. This time, however, I danced exclusively with Phil. He was an excellent dancer and I found myself almost melting into him during the slow dances. I was able to follow his lead with ease, almost instinctively moving in response to the tiny movement of his muscles that told me the directions he wanted to go. I just relaxed and let Phil do all the work.

All too soon, I found myself back in front of Karen’s apartment door. I looked up into Phil’s eyes and then down at the floor. “I had a really good time,” I said softly. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

He leaned down. I had told myself that Jessica wouldn’t kiss on the first date, but it was a losing battle. I closed my eyes as our lips met and I threw my arms around his neck. I could smell his strong masculine scent and his aftershave. I felt his strong body pressing against mine. Then I felt another pressure against my stomach. It was a reminder. I reluctantly pushed away.

“Good night, Phil,” I said, and turned and went into the apartment.

Of course, Karen wouldn’t let me get to bed until I’d given her a blow-by-blow account of my entire evening. I told her how really great it had felt to parade across the restaurant.

“You felt good because you looked good,” she said. “A lot of our self esteem as girls comes from the opinions of others. We’re trained from an early age that men will be looking and women will be comparing and judging us. It may not be a true measure of who we are as a person, but it is a very real fact of life. Sounds like you passed tonight with flying colors.”

“It’s just that everything about presenting myself as a woman is sensual,” I said. “The way my clothes, hose, shoes and even my jewelry move keep constantly telling me in a thousand ways who I am dressed as.”

“And that keeps calling to your attention how much that guy is appreciating you,” Karen answered. “You need to keep watching yourself and watch him too. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

That brought me down some. I wasn’t what I appeared to be. And I couldn’t give Phil what he obviously wanted from me.