An Unfinished Symphony

By Kelly Ann Rogers

Chapter III - A Surprise Date

"Don't be mad, sweetie," she replied, offering me my martini. "I told you I would take care of everything. And I think I did. Here you are at a wonderful new restaurant where everyone thinks you're a woman and you haven't spent even one moment thinking about passing, have you?"

She was right - the sneaky bitch. She had swept me along so adroitly that I never did have a chance to worry. "But they think I'm a lesbian," I whispered back, although I had no idea why I said it.

"So? You are, aren't you? A woman who loves a woman?"

At about 3:00 on Friday afternoon, Rebecca called. "Hi, babe, it's Becca."

"Uh, hi Becca," I managed to reply in my best feminine voice despite my surprise. "What's up? If Rebecca was going to be Becca, something just had to be up.

"I want you to get dolled up. I'm going to take you out for a romantic dinner."

"What?"

"Well, sweetie, you're going out on a date tomorrow night and leaving me home alone. If that's the way it's gonna be, I want to have some fun tonight." Then she hesitated for a beat before saying in the most lascivious tone I had ever heard, "And you're it." I've already picked the place. Wear the little black dress along with your new lingerie."

Mmmmm, my new lingerie. I knew just which set I wanted to wear. The exquisite Simone Perele's we just bought, including a full coverage bra (to hold my breast forms securely), full cut panty (to hold the rest of me securely), and a matching garter belt. They were a deep red, open Calais lace, with the softest dark burgundy inserts. I started to get hard just thinking about it. As soon as I remembered what it cost, I got soft again.

"Sara? Are you there?" Becca broke into my thoughts.

"Huh? Oh yeah. I just got distracted for a moment."

"You were thinking about your Simone Perele undies weren't you?" she teased.

When I didn't respond right away, she jumped in with a triumphant, "I knew it! You are such a tart!"

"I...I'm not. I'm not!" I insisted trying to recover from my embarrassment.

"What eeever," Becca replied dismissively. "Just plan to be ready by 7:00. I'm going to change here and then pick you up."

*That's weird, but what the hell, she's obviously planned to whole thing already.* "Yes dear, whatever you say," I responded, trying to sound sarcastically submissive. Her snort in reply made it pretty clear that she wasn’t impressed. But as I turned to the bedroom to get ready, I realized that I couldn't wear a bra, my new dress was backless. I'd have to attach my forms and they'd bounce with every step. What had I gotten myself into?

***

"Sara, I'm home! Are you ready?"

I was. In fact, at that moment I was standing in front of the mirror, playing with my blonde wig, turning this way and that to make sure everything was just right. I was a little appalled that I was going out in this dress. My breasts were unfettered, the skirt was short and there was no back. I couldn't imagine where Becca was going to take me dressed like this. I was both scared and loving it at the same time.

"Omigod!" I gasped as she walked into the room. Becca was dressed in a black silk, man-tailored tuxedo suit. Her hair was pulled back into a tight chignon on the top of her head, and her make up was dark and steamy. She was in tall, tall heels and carried a top hat in the crook of her right arm. Her nails were longer than I'd seen them in a long time and painted deep red to match her lipstick.

At about the same time, she said, "Don't you look adorable? "You really out did yourself tonight."

I blushed with pride, curtsying and replying demurely, "Thank you kind sir." Here I was dressed like a sexy call girl looking to get laid, while Becca looked commanding and powerful, and very sexy. The difference between how we looked couldn't have been any more obvious, and I was actually feeling rather intimidated. I decided to try to surf with that feeling and see where it would lead me. Let her take the lead.

She came over to me, took my hand, winked, and said, "Give me a little twirl." I smiled shyly and did just that as she held my hand, lifting it over my head so I could spin under it. Of course, my dress fluttered prettily around my thighs as I turned. But instead of stopping me after one rotation, Becca twirled me another half turn until I was facing away from her, and then grabbed me around the waist with her free hand. She let her other hand go and wrapped it around my shoulder, pulling me close to her body. Then she leaned in and started to nuzzle my neck and ear. "Are you my little girl tonight?" she whispered as she suckled on my earlobe, flipping my dangly, clip-on earring with her tongue.

"Ooh yes," I moaned in return. I was getting seriously turned on. Maybe we wouldn't go out at all!

"And you'll do whatever I say?"

"Ooooh yesss," I shuddered under her touch, goose bumps starting to form on my bare shoulders and arms.

"Good girl. I'll take care of everything,” she whispered. Then she let me go, took my left hand in her right, twirled me back to face her and said, "Come with me."

We went into the living room and I saw several boxes wrapped with bright silver ribbons. Becca handed me the first one, obviously a shoe box. I opened it at her urging and discovered a beautiful pair of black leather sandals.

A laugh started to burst from my lips, but I managed to stifle it to a single giggle. The shoes were gorgeous, and I was already starting to take off my own 4-inch black pumps to try them on. What had made me laugh were the heels: they were at most an inch high. Becca really wanted to be taller than me tonight!

The next box, a really small one, revealed a gold ankle bracelet. It had a small gold plate that was engraved "Becca and Sara." The two names were intertwined in a heart.

"Oh Becca!" I gushed. This is gorgeous. Thank you sooo much." And I reached up to kiss her, which is just what she wanted, for me to have to reach up that is. She looked down at me with a barely contained look of triumph on her face.

"Would you put it on for me?" I asked, trying to put a small pout in my voice.

"Sure babe, put your foot up here," she said, indicating the cocktail table that was holding all the boxes.

So I lifted my right foot for her.

"This is to remind you that I love you no matter what," she said emphatically.

"Oh, I do so love you," I replied equally as emphatically. And I pulled her into a tight hug as soon as she had finished with my ankle.

She returned the hug for a few moments and then broke away. "We need to go soon, so let me give my girl the rest of her gifts.” The third box held a white orchard, which she quickly pinned to the right side of my head, pulling the hair back slightly from my face as she did so.

I watched intently in the mirror as she worked, my knees weakening as I understood the utter femininity of the look she was creating. Tears started to form in the corners of my eyes, but when Becca noticed them, she quickly grabbed a tissue and blotted them gently, saying, "None of that now. We don't have time to redo your makeup." And she winked at me!

The final box, which was by far the largest, held the biggest surprise. It was what looked like a silver fox jacket that would just cover my ass. I was absolutely floored.

"Omigod," I breathed out, my hand over my mouth. "Is that real?"

"Don't be silly,” Becca said as she held it open for me." "It's just a real good fake. I can't afford a real fur coat! Especially for you!"

I was actually relieved. "But it's still gorgeous," I replied, snuggling my cheek into the big soft collar. "And you're just amazing. Doing all this for me."

"Yeah, I don't know what came over me," she giggled. "But I wanted to be sure you knew how a man should treat you before you actually start going out with them."

"Oh. You mean they should buy me jewelry and furs?"

She cocked her head at me and considered me for a moment. "Well, maybe eventually, if you really get real serious with one. They don’t give this stuff away easily, you know." There was a strange tone of regret in her voice. I didn't understand it, and was afraid she meant I hadn’t given her those kinds of things, even though she had always insisted she didn’t want them. But before I had a chance to dwell on it, Becca reached back into the box, pulled out a long black and silver silk scarf, which she wrapped around my neck so one end was over my shoulder, hanging down my back, and the other hanging down the front, and a pair of bright red leather gloves, which I quickly pulled on. As soon as I had slung my small evening bag over my shoulder, she caught my hand in hers, and ushered me out the door.

We drove about 30 minutes to Greenwich, where a very hot restaurant had just opened. We chatted aimlessly on the way over and I thrilled to the touch of Becca's hand on my thigh as she drove. She was always a confident woman, but tonight she just exuded strength. I felt protected, and I loved it.

I was feeling great until the moment when the valet opened the car door for me. Then I froze, turning towards Becca, for what I didn't know. But she just rolled her eyes at me and flicked her head up in a gesture that said, 'Just get out of the car.' When I turned back to the door, the valet's hand was waiting for mine, so I put my fingers in his palm, swiveled my hips so my legs were out of the car, and let him help me up.

"Thank you," I said quietly, without looking at him, because I was feeling intimidated. But he didn't let go of my hand right away, so I had to look up. Feeling insecure, I first glanced up through my eyelashes before actually lifting my head. He was a young Latino man, neatly groomed and very attractive. After a small smile, I gently pulled my hand from his and turned to look for Becca.

She was standing by the back of the car, her top hat tilted jauntily on her head, and a brilliant smile on her face. "Come love," she said brightly, as she walked up next to me holding out her elbow for me to put my arm through. "Stop flirting with that cute young man."

I blushed furiously, I could just feel my face and chest heat up, and hurried to take her arm so we could get out of there.

"What did you say that for?" I whispered urgently as soon as we were at the door, which was held open for us by a smartly dressed middle-age man who examined us both carefully with a big smile on his face. "Ladies," he nodded to us as we had entered. Then he turned and left.

"You little tease," she said with a small laugh. "I can't believe what you did to that poor boy. You've already showed me that you're an easy lay, now I discover that you're a shameless tease. Thank goodness I never let you go out before." Her laughter tinkled like fine crystal, but I wasn't at all sure what she was teasing me about.

"He was so rude," I whispered insistently as we entered the spare, Japanese-style lobby. It was done up in pale wood, with a small fountain in the middle. Black sand surrounded the water, with a few rocks scattered artfully about. But a chill ran through my body as I looked up and noticed that seemingly every eye in the place had turned to us. The blood drained from my face and I grabbed Becca's arm even tighter as I suddenly realized what they were seeing: the very femmy lesbian girlfriend of a beautiful woman dressed in a top hat and tails. Not to mention that my breasts bounced with every step. Of course people were looking at us.

I wanted to die, or run, or have the floor swallow me up. But Becca held me in place with her arm, and standing straight up, calmly scanned the room, giving everyone a good chance to study us. Then she turned to me, lifted my chin with her hand and kissed me firmly on the lips. "Come love," she said clearly. "Let's see if our table's ready."

She sauntered casually to the maitre d's desk, leaving me no choice but to hurry along next to her, my heels clicking along with hers on the pale hardwood floor.

"Matti," she said enthusiastically as a somewhat petite, red-head, dressed in a tight black dress and high heels, approached the desk from inside the restaurant. She really was quite striking, with pale skin, rich dark red lips, and even darker eyes.

"Rebecca!" Matti smiled back, hurrying over and pulling Becca towards her so she could air kiss each cheek. "And you must be Sara," she said turning an incandescent smile on me. “I'm Matti. I own this place."

"Uh, hi Matti," I mumbled, totally confused.

"I love your work," she went on, her voice an unusual mixture of breathy, hoarse, and husky. Then, holding my arms, she reached up to do the air kiss routine with me. She couldn’t have been more than 5 feet six inches tall, even in her heels. "I'm so glad you're here because I want Mind Games to take over my marketing."

*Huh? Mind Games? She knew my work? That could only mean.... Shit.* But I did my best to accept her greeting in the warm spirit in which it was offered, and then turned to allow her to take my coat. Before she pulled it off my shoulders, however, she gently touched the orchard, and cooed, "So pretty." Then when she had slipped my jacket off one shoulder and onto my arm, she bent in and kissed the shoulder.

I literally shivered at her touch and turned to look at her. She had pale freckles on her nose and cheeks, and a, I don’t know how to describe it, a shy but somehow lustful look in her eyes, as she touched my cheek gently, almost lovingly, I thought. "You are just lovely, yes, quite lovely," she said so only the two of us could hear.

I caught Becca's eye while this was going on and glared at her as Matti finally took my coat and gloves. I had decided to keep the scarf. But Becca only smiled at me benignly, making me even more angry. Then she put her hand low on my bare back, a feeling that totally surprised me, and made me shiver. Again, goose bumps rose out of my flesh as I realized how uncovered I was. But that was nothing compared to how I felt as Becca turned me to go into the bar with her hand on my butt. As a man I had done that to her because I just loved the feel of her shapely behind and because I thought it was a sexy thing to do. Now that the roles were reversed, I felt really vulnerable. I wasn't a man at all, I was a woman possessed by someone stronger than me. I had to shake my head to clear it of the dissonant images of me as a man holding Rebecca's butt, and me as a woman being held by her.

"How could you?" I accused her once we had settled into a small cocktail table in the bar. "She knows who I am."

"Yes, isn't she exquisite?" Becca said, leaning in close to kiss the tip of my nose.

"Don't do that," I snapped in a hoarse whisper pulling my head back. "This is serious. You were the one who insisted I keep this secret. How could you tell her?"

"Oh calm down," Becca said dismissively, as she sat up so the waitress could put our martinis on the table. She had gin with olives. I had Stoli Orange with an orange slice. Once they were safely on the table she lifted hers, indicating with her eyes that I should do the same, and then toasted me. "To the most beautiful girl in the world - the apple of my eye - may you always get what you wish for." Her face was glowing with love, and I could feel myself falling into her warm dark eyes.

I sat paralyzed for a moment, a warm flush mounting onto my face. I was completely disarmed. "Oh Rebecca..." was all I could get out. But even though I couldn't think of anything to say, I knew what I wanted to do. Without breaking eye contact, I put my glass down to my right, took Becca's from her hand with both of mine and put it down to the left so the middle of the table was clear. Then I tilted my head to the side and leaned over the table. She understood immediately and leaned the rest of the way in while tilting her head the other way. Then she found my lips. We kissed gently for a few moments, our hands in each other's before we sat back up.

I was feeling dreamy until I realized that complete silence had overtaken the bar around us. It was only then that I remembered that we were two girls kissing in a public restaurant. That probably wasn't exactly what people expected when they showed up for dinner. Then I heard someone behind me say, "Wow, that was some kiss.”

Another voice replied, “They shouldn’t be doing that in public.”

I whispered to Becca, "Yes we should, but why did you set me up like this?"

"Don't be mad, sweetie," she replied, offering me my martini. "I told you I would take care of everything. And I think I did. Here you are at a wonderful new restaurant where everyone thinks you're a woman and you haven't spent even one moment thinking about passing, have you?"

She was right - the sneaky bitch. She had swept me along so adroitly that I never did have a chance to worry. "But they think I'm a lesbian," I whispered back, although I had no idea why I said it.

"So? You are, aren't you? A woman who loves a woman?" And she cocked her head and an eyebrow at me, a gentle smile and little creases forming at the corners of her eyes warming her look.

A lesbian — is that what I wished I could be? Is that what I wished for Rebecca? Is that what she wished for? Is that why she introduced me as a woman? I had to ask. "Why did you tell her?"

"Matti is interested in hiring us. She much prefers to work with women, so I thought we would make more of an impression if she saw you like this."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. She used to be a chef out in LA, but followed her lover, here to Connecticut so she could start this restaurant with him."

"God, I'm like the company slut," I moaned, trying to sound aggrieved. "First you set me up with Phil, and now Matti. Next you're going to tell me, 'It's only business.' Right?"

"Well, it is," she insisted. "Other than that, you're mine." She seemed quite pleased with herself.

We only had a couple of minutes to sip our martinis before we were called to our table, so, I drained mine before I got up, figuring I could get another as soon as we reached our table. I was really self conscious and needed the bottled courage. I was hoping for something in a corner, so we could be all romantic with each other in private, but Matti had other plans. She put us at one of the most visible tables in the place. "You two are gorgeous," she said. "I want everyone to be able to see you." I could only blush at the idea. And as she pulled my seat out for me, she said, "It'll do wonders for business; consider it the first phase of our contract. I'll even pick up dinner."

I turned towards her, surprised at her generosity, and as I did, she slipped her hand around my waist, pulled me towards her just a little and kissed the side of my neck. Then she patted my behind, and urged me to sit. I was too dumbfounded to do anything else.

We were a little less openly affectionate than I had planned, but had a wonderful dinner just the same. The menu featured wonderfully complex Asian fusion fare, obviously influenced by Matti’s many years on the west coast. We sampled the appetizers and split a main course, fire grilled Ahi tuna with some kind of amazing raspberry salsa.

The food was the least of it. I discovered that it was kind of fun being the center of attention, at least while I had someone around to look after me. Being here with Becca felt nothing like when I used to go out by myself before we had met, or more recently at the conventions I occasionally attended. Then, all I really wanted to do was blend into the woodwork and hope no one would out me.

But tonight there was no place to hide, and Becca made it clear that if I tried, people would really wonder about me. "A beautiful woman is proud of herself and pleased to show herself off to others," she declared. So I sat upright, smiled as often as I could, and moved with all the feminine grace I could muster. Becca kept plying me with wine, which, on top of the two martinis, got me rather giddy. I guess that buzz was what led to the high point of the dinner, which came right before dessert. Becca dared me to catch the attention of four guys who were at a table that was sort of on the way to the restrooms. I’m sure (really I am) that I wouldn’t have done this sober, but I really wiggled my butt as I passed them on the way to the ladies room. On the way back, I turned up the wattage, which actually elicited a quiet whistle as I passed them. I couldn't help but glance back over my shoulder, give them a smile and a wink before turning my head slowly around and strutting back to our table. I don't know where I got the courage. Well, yes I do, and it taught me two important lessons. The first, which I should have known anyway, was that it's really easy to lose control if you're drinking and in a good mood. The second, which really was new, was that it doesn't take much more than a wiggle to get men to pay attention to you. That was a little scary.

After dinner, we chatted briefly with Matti, who couldn't seem to keep her eyes off me. At first, I reveled in it, but after a few minutes, I started to feel a bit like a bug under a magnifying glass. Finally, while Becca and Matti were engaged in a discussion about a potential contract, which didn't stop Matti from giving me the eye, I felt just like the little wife, decorative, but not terribly useful, which was fun, in a weird sort of way.

After dinner, we left the restaurant, but instead of heading for the car as I had anticipated, we went in the other direction. This was an old Main street, which, like so many others, had started to die as new malls drew shoppers out of town. But more recently, this once abandoned area of several blocks, which held many buildings of architectural interest, was undergoing a renaissance, and the old buildings had been renovated into clubs, shops and restaurants, some with condos on the top floors. Two blocks away, we reached our destination. It was barely lit, except for the name, which was in pink neon lights: Dawn's Sunset. It didn't make much sense, but seemed amusing. Becca knocked at the door and a peephole opened. "You've got to be kidding," I whispered to Becca, who shushed me like I was an annoying child. A moment later the door opened.

It only took getting through the door to see that this was a lesbian club. As we stood there, waiting for our eyes to become accustomed to the dim light, everyone nearby studied us closely. That wasn't much different than the straight restaurant we just left. Still, it was something I'd never experienced, so I inched closer to Becca, who put a protective arm around me as she smiled brightly and said hello to the women who were nearby. I was scared to death. Lesbians often don't like T-Girls, and the last thing I wanted was to be outed here. So I sighed a mixed breath of relief, when one beefy short-haired dyke looked me up and down after I had taken my coat off and said, "Mmmm, aren't you a tasty morsel."

"Sorry, love. She's taken," Becca cut in, folding my coat over her arm. "But maybe you can get a dance later."

My eyes flew open and I turned on Becca, who was doing everything she could to not laugh. "Relax babe", she said. "You don't have to worry. You can dance with whoever you want. Just remember, I'm the one taking you home."

Our new friend smiled at us, and taking a sip off the Budweiser bottle she was holding by the neck with just her index finger, she winked at me and said, I’ll see you later hon.” Then she walked away.

I glowered at Becca, who just laughed.

As Becca deposited my coat in a seedy looking coat room, the kind that makes you think anything nice you leave there will be stolen, I took the opportunity to check the place out. It was not only dark, but like the coat room, rather seedy looking, with a long, old, beat-up wooden bar on one side and tables on the other. But it had a classic metal ceiling, now painted black, very intricate moldings around the top of the wall and all the doorways, and beautiful wainscoting on the walls. This had once been a very elegant room. Between the bar and the tables was a small raised dance floor, which was about the only place with any light on it. Despite its lack of esthetic appeal, there was quite a crowd. The most obvious women to me were the ones who seemed to be what most people think about when they say the word dyke. They were doing the best they could to look and behave like men. But there were more than a few pretty, feminine girls there as well, and just about everything in between. Very few people were at all dressed up, which really made Becca and me (especially me!) stand out, but they all seemed relaxed and comfortable with each other.

Dressed as we were, it looked like Becca and I had been dropped here by mistake after having been teleported from a wedding or something. But no one really seemed to care, except perhaps to check us out, which I figured was okay, because I was busy checking them out as well, especially the scene on the dance floor, which was pretty frenzied.

"You've got to be crazy, bringing me here," I whispered to Becca.

"Huh," she replied off handedly. "Speak up I can't hear you."

"You have to be crazy," I repeated, my face right in hers so she could see my lips. "I could get killed in here."

"Well," she smiled back at me. "You better keep your date happy or she might start loaning you out to the natives."

"Stop teas.... Oh look there's some people leaving that table. Let's grab it."

Once we had settled ourselves in, Becca went to the bar to get us some wine, and women started to arrive at our table to hit on me. It was only a slow trickle, but it never really let up till we left an hour later. These women apparently lived in some kind of 1950s world, where the idea that you could steal someone else's date if only you had the balls to do it, still existed. And let me tell you, these women all seemed to have way more balls than I ever did.

I couldn't escape the irony of the situation. As a guy, I would have reveled in the attention of all these women because I would have been the one to give out the favors. As a woman, I just didn't know what to think. It was obvious I was an object here and that I had none of the power I naturally assumed as a man. All the power relations were flipped upside down and while I was flattered at the attention, it made me feel small and vulnerable, and quite anxious.

Becca remained aloofly amused as I dealt with these predatory women. One actually came over while she was sitting there, and the others were not just more aggressive than I'd ever been, but they carried themselves more aggressively as well.

"I guess you just never tried very hard," Becca teased me when I pointed that out. "They're trying real hard. Just about as hard as you're trying to be a woman." And then she laughed, although I wasn't quite sure what was so funny.

"You just better be sure you ravage me tonight," I taunted back. "because I've already turned down a half dozen offers."

"I don't think you'd like what they have to offer," she teased back. "You've never actually been on the receiving end of a strap-on, have you?"

"You wouldn't," I responded with more than a little anxiety. She just cocked her head at me in that familiar way and winked, holding her hands about a foot apart, pursing her lips and shaking her head approvingly.

"Perhaps if you dance with me, I might keep you to myself," she said, in mock seriousness. "I'll lead, of course."

*Of course,* I thought to myself, gulping down my wine in the absurd hope it would make me graceful. "How 'bout another?" I asked urgently as I pushed my glass over to Becca.

"First we dance. C'mon, babe," Becca said as she stood and grabbed my hand, dragging me with her.

A moment later we were on the dance floor, where we started to shake and shimmy to a fast techno pop song. I was stiff and awkward at first, but Becca urged me to imitate the other women, some of whom were really letting go in a sinuously provocative way, and after a couple of minutes, I started to become more fluid, and, I hoped, although I wasn't sure why, more sensual.

Then the music shifted to a slow ballad. Becca held up her left hand and put her right arm around my back. At first, I couldn't figure out which hand to put up, even with her guidance, but eventually got it right, even though it felt awkward. It turned out that we both felt awkward and despite our attempt at practice the other night at home, Becca was still somewhat uncertain about how to lead. But then, she just wrapped both hands around my back, leaving me little choice but to put mine around her neck, and we swayed together in time with the music.

After a minute or so, Becca's hands slowly found their way down my bare back to below my waist, which made me shiver. Then they found their way to my ass, which almost made me swoon. By the time she pulled me tight to her body I couldn’t get enough of her hands, and even started to rotate my hips to encourage her to rub my dress over my pantied ass. What the hell, I thought, and I laid my head on Becca's shoulder.

And there we were, looking just like every other lesbian couple on the dance floor, holding each other tightly and enjoying the warmth and affection of someone else's embrace, and probably dreaming of getting laid.

It turned out that Becca was thinking just that because when the music stopped she said, "Let's go. I've got plans for you at home."

And she did too. And they took a good couple of hours to carry out. But by the time we were done, we were both fully satisfied, falling asleep in a tangle of arms, legs, and French lingerie.