. . . Omigod! You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You don’t want people to see you kissing another woman because they’ll know you’re a lesbian! You are such a fraud!. . .

. . . Sweetie, why didn’t you say something? You were the one keeping the secret, . .

. . . I met a man. . .

I decided to start slowly, thinking she would need time to adjust. On Monday she had flowers on her desk, and on Wednesday we went out to dinner. On Saturday, I invited her to a show in Manhattan, and she stayed over with me at Phillip’s apartment, sleeping in the room that Courtney had used. On Sunday, we had brunch with Phillip, along with the utterly charming and delightful young man who had spent the night in Phillip’s room. Monday again found flowers, and we shared lunch a couple of times during the week, but she already had plans for the weekend, so I would be alone.

Phillip would be in town for the weekend, so on Friday we got dressed up and went out to The Palm for dinner. Phillip had insisted that it wasn’t as good as it used to be, but I’d never been there and really wanted to try it. I wore a short, black dress with a flirty hem, along with a pair of four-inch “fuck me” stilettos. They hurt my feet after a while, but so what? I blew out my hair so it was at its glossiest best and wore dark eye makeup and bright red lipstick. When we walked in, both of us over six feet tall and looking gorgeous, everyone looked up. I just stood there at Phillip’s side posing for the crowd.

“You’re shameless,” he hissed at me after we sat down.

“Sorry love,” I replied lightly, “but I’m feeling beautiful and I want everyone to know. And I wanted them to see me showing off the hunk I’m with.” He just rolled his eyes and turned to look for a waiter so he could order his usual scotch and my orange-flavored martini. I was so excited about my new relationship with Rebecca that I couldn’t stop talking about it, except to eat, working my way through a small filet mignon while he absolutely inhaled a huge porterhouse. A lush cabernet washed it all down and gave me a nice buzz.

Later, Phillip’s arm around my shoulder, and mine around his waist, we wandered a few blocks east to the U.N. and the East river so we could look at the lights on the 59th street Bridge. After staring for a while in silence, he finally said, “Sara, you’d better be careful.”

“What do you mean?” I replied, slightly taken aback.

“This isn’t a done deal - you and Rebecca. She has real reservations about what you want her to do.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“She called me.”

“And?”

He just looked at me for a moment and turning to face me, took my hands in his. “And . . . she asked me to look out for you. Your excitement is obvious to everyone, and she’s afraid that if she can’t accept being in love with Sara, that you’ll be totally crushed.”

“I will be,” I replied quietly, lowering my head so he couldn’t see my face because I was all of a sudden feeling small and scared. Was this Rebecca’s way of trying to let me down, to have Phillip tell me? “Is there anything else she wanted you to tell me?” I asked, even though I was afraid of the answer.

“No,” Phillip replied evenly. “I think she’s enjoying what you’re doing, she’s just not sure what the outcome will be.”

“Well I am,” I replied with far more confidence than I felt. “We love each other. We’re soul mates. I think once she spends enough time with me, she’ll find her comfort level. . . . She just has to.”

***

I took Phillip’s warning more as a challenge than anything else, and vowed to not lose sight of my goal: to make the woman I love fall in love with me again. I cleaned Rebecca’s house for her and prepared meals that I put in her freezer. I was tickled to be able to do these things and found it really hard to suppress my enthusiasm. I would have picked up her dry cleaning or shined her shoes had she asked. She even teased about how much I was doing, which I took as a good sign, a sign that she was relaxing.

I also increased my doses of hormones. It was time. In fact, it was past time. I didn’t know why I had waited. My skin was nice, but I wanted some evidence of hips, a rounder butt, and I wanted my nipples to develop. I had decided that when Rebecca and I renewed our vows, something I decided we just had to do, hopefully on the anniversary of our wedding, I was going to have breasts of my own. In any case, I vowed that whatever else happened, Sara was going to be as much of a girl as she could without that final surgery.

I wanted to spend all of my spare time with Rebecca, but she was more cautious. I didn’t terribly mind when she wanted to be alone, but she sometimes went out on dates with guys. I didn’t understand why she was doing it, at least I didn’t want to, and I fretted about her finding that “good man” she had mentioned, but just kept my mouth shut. Even though I stayed at her house more and more frequently, we still hadn’t slept together. I felt like a shy teenager, afraid even to kiss her. It’s not that we didn’t touch, we hugged and held hands and even kissed each other lightly on the lips. I waited for the perfect time to really kiss her again, but the more I waited, the more difficulty I had finding that time.

One day, as we were strolling together in a mall, after having gotten makeovers together, she put her arm through mine and pulled me into the ladies’ room. Then, even though there was someone in one of the stalls, she pulled me to her and kissed me square on the lips, opening her mouth to me, inviting me in. But the toilet flushed just then so we pulled apart and started to play with our makeup in the mirror — now we both needed to fix our lipstick. I was exhilarated, and we smiled at each other enjoying the secret of what we had just done as the teenage girl washed up next to us.

As we headed for the parking lot, she asked, “Sara, why haven’t you tried to kiss me yet?”

The best I could do was, “Uh… I, I uh, I wanted it to be the perfect time, but it just never seemed to occur.” I could feel myself blushing and I looked down and away, letting my hair cover my face. “Uh, and, besides, I was scared.”

“You’re joking!” she blurted out, looking amused. This only made me feel even more embarrassed. As she gazed at me, head cocked, I could see something in her eyes, and she smiled gently. “Sara, do I intimidate you?”

“I just don’t want anything to go wrong. I’m trying not to rush anything, to let you decide the pace.” By this point we were putting our bags into the trunk of her hot, red 330ci, which was in a premium spot, right near the mall entrance. Once our hands were empty, she turned to me. “I like kissing you, I’ve missed it. Would you please kiss me now?”

“I, uh . . . here?”

She opened her eyes wide and pushed her face towards me, quietly saying, “Yes, here.” But I didn’t move. As I stood there frozen, Rebecca looking at me like an impatient bus driver waiting for me to find the exact change, I suddenly had a revelation. I was embarrassed! I didn’t want to look like a lesbian! I must have turned completely red, because my face got very hot.

“What is your problem?” Rebecca demanded, now really sounding impatient.

“N… nothing, really.” But I still couldn’t move.

“Omigod! You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You don’t want people to see you kissing another woman because they’ll know you’re a lesbian! You are such a fraud!” She sounded amused rather than angry, but she was almost shouting.

“N… no, that’s not true. And please, keep your voice down. Everyone can hear you.”

“Of course it is,” she replied, trying to stifle a laugh. “I can’t believe it. You want us to live together as women, but you’re embarrassed to kiss me in public! And I thought I was the one with the problem.” With that, she burst out laughing.

I stood there feeling totally stupid for a few moments, and then I started to laugh too. When we were starting to calm down, and while everyone within earshot stared at us, almost certainly thinking that Rebecca was straight and I was a lesbian trying to get her into a relationship, I shrugged my shoulders, grabbed her face in my hands, and then covered her lips with mine. She immediately opened her mouth, welcoming me in, and this time I didn’t hesitate to take her offer. Her hands went around my shoulders, like they always used to and we just melted into each other.

She felt and tasted utterly delicious, and our tongues found each other in familiar old ways that made us both shudder and sigh. Within just a couple of seconds, the entire world consisted of Rebecca’s lips and tongue, which I couldn’t explore quickly enough.

We parted from our kiss less than a minute later, as Rebecca pulled slightly away and whispered into my ear. “It’s about time, you jerk.”

“I was just scared, afraid you’d reject me,” I whispered back. “I couldn’t face that.”

She pulled back even further and spoke in a normal tone of voice. “Well, now that we’ve gotten over that hurdle, let’s get one thing clear. You want me to make big changes in my life that will force me to change how I view myself. If you can’t handle all the implications of that, there’s no way, we’ll ever get to where you say you want to go. I’m certainly not going to sneak around, and if you want to be my hus…, uh, partner, you better be willing to let everyone know that’s who you are.”

“I’m sorry Rebecca. This is all new to me, too. I’d be terribly proud to be your, uh . . . partner, if you’ll have me . . . and this won’t happen again. I swear.”

“This is just too weird. Let’s get out of here.” Rebecca shook her head in disbelief and turned to walk to the driver’s side door.

After that our time together often involved serious necking. Although I desperately wanted to make love to her, Rebecca seemed content with the way things were, which I actually thought was kind of ironic, like being back in high school. Over the next couple of weeks, Rebecca became increasingly more comfortable with me, and ever more playful, just as she used to be. Holding hands, walking with our arms around each other, and kissing became normal parts of our lives. Three weeks later, she invited me stay the night, which I had done a number of times. Each time, Rebecca would leave me a gift on the bed in the guest room: clothes, lingerie, perfume — girlfriend gifts.

After depositing the groceries and grabbing a drink, I hurried up to see what she had given me. I gave a little gasp when I saw on the bed a beautiful and downright sexy set of lingerie, camisole, tap pant, and garter belt, in deep navy blue with emerald lace accents. They were lying on top of a sheer navy peignoir, with the same emerald lace, along with dark stockings and very high-heeled sandals with a bow across the toes.

I jumped when I heard Rebecca whisper behind me. “I want you to sleep with me tonight.” I hadn’t heard her walk up, and as I turned towards her, the camisole in my hand, she went on. “And I intend to take all that off you, one piece at a time.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. I didn’t want anything to ruin the growing warmth between us, and as much as I wanted to feel her body next to mine, and to hold her in my arms, I was a little worried about how she would react to me in her bed. I hadn’t told her that I had been taking hormones. There had been several opportunities, like when I had started, right after I got my beard lasered off, or when I finally realized that I would always be Sara, and had upped the dose some, or when Rebecca had challenged me to court her, when I really upped the dose, the most my endocrinologist would permit. My aureoles had enlarged slightly and my nipples had started to thicken. There didn’t seem to be much of anything going on behind them yet, but Rebecca was sure to notice the changes that had occurred.

She smiled, as if to reassure me. “Just get dressed and meet me downstairs. I’ll go change too; I’m really in the mood for a romantic evening with my new girlfriend. There’s finger food in the fridge, so if you beat me, start laying it out.” With that, she turned around and walked down the hall to her room.

My heart was beating really fast, and as I turned back towards the bed I realized my breathing was starting to get out of control as well. So I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, and then undressed. The tap pants were delicious, and it was nice to allow my penis and balls to hang free for a change. She hadn’t included a bra, so I figured Rebecca wanted me without my breast forms. The camisole, however, was so slinky as it caressed my skin that I didn’t care about being flat-chested. It only took a few moments to hitch the garter belt over my hips and get the stocking attached before I wrapped the peignoir around my body, snuggling it close to myself for a few moments. My skin tingled, and as I raised my hand up my chest, I could feel my slightly swollen nipple.

I had the cheeses, bread, and fruit artfully arranged on a silver tray before Rebecca flowed into the room. She wore a similar outfit, but hers was a pale cream color with paler, almost white lace. She gave me a huge smile and swiveled over to where I stood, open-mouthed.

“You look lovely,” she said, reaching out and caressing my cheek with her soft palm.

“S ... so do you, just gorgeous. I never. . . .”

At that moment, she lowered her hand down from my face, and then let is slip down my chest, over the slippery fabric. Before I could do anything, her fingertips ran over my nipple and stopped there. She cocked her head and one eyebrow.

“Re. . . .”

She cut me off. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked, stepping back and exploring more carefully. Then dropping her hands entirely, she asked more calmly than I might have, “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Maybe I should have thought about it longer, but I just blurted out, “I’ve been on hormones. I started on low doses right after we split up and recently went to a higher dose. A doctor is prescribing them.”

Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. “Yes, I thought so. Your skin has been so soft and your hair so full and glossy, and your features seem softer too. Let me see.”

“See?” I pulled back slightly.

She grinned to disarm me. “Yes, let me see your chest.”

I stepped forward, and eased open my robe. She ran both her hands down my chest, sending a thrill through me and causing me to gasp as her hands ran over my nipples. When she had reached my hips, she put her hands under my camisole, pushing it up as she slid her hands upwards over my bare skin. When her fingers reached my nipples, she slightly separated her index finger from her third finger and ran them along either side of both nipples. Then she twirled her thumb around them before finally lifting the camisole completely to my shoulders so she could see my chest.

I stared at her intently as she did all this, fearing all the while that she would turn and run.

But she didn’t. Instead, she let the camisole fall back into place. “Well, you have a long way to go don’t you?”

I just nodded.

A frown flickered across her face. “Does it still work?” Before I could do anything, she reached down to my crotch and carefully ran her hand over the tap pants. She smiled as she felt my partially engorged penis swell even further at her touch. She grabbed it gently, rubbing the slinky nylon fabric over it a few times until I was fully erect. “It does!” she exclaimed, brightly. Then she let go, walked past me towards the food and patted me fondly on the ass. “I’m hungry how ‘bout you?”

I didn’t know what I was, except totally unsure of myself. “Rebecca, you discover I’m on hormones, and all you can say is that you’re hungry?”

“Yes, love.” She reached out for my hand, which I gladly gave her. “I didn’t just discover it, I simply confirmed it,” she continued with a small smile. “And frankly, I’m relieved. It was something you had to do; we both know that. And as I said, there were clues.” She rubbed my smooth cheek. “I’ve read all about your physical changes you know. Did you think I’d let you do this without learning as much about it as I could?”

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

“Sweetie, why didn’t you say something? You were the one keeping the secret,” she accused gently, before dropping my hand and reaching for a strawberry.

I just stood and stared at her. Why hadn’t I told her? All of a sudden I wasn’t sure. It had seemed so clear that I shouldn’t, but now I didn’t know why. Yes I do. “Because I was afraid you’d run away,” I exclaimed.

She cocked her head and looked at me, smiling slightly. “No, I don’t think I would have,” she finally replied. “You really don’t give me enough credit. You told me you were Sara and it seemed clear to me that there’s no way you could be Sara without hormones, and eventually breasts of your own, and who knows what else. You’re going to have to be far more honest with me if you want this work.”

I felt chastised, like a little girl caught lying to her mother. I wanted to run away, to cry, to just disappear. “Rebecca,” I started, without even knowing what I was going to say.

Rebecca turned to face me. “No, I really wasn’t being honest with you just now. In the past, I might have run away. You knew how I felt about you having breasts, so it’s not surprising you kept the hormones a secret, but I’ve totally changed my mind.

“Wha . . . ?”

She again put her fingers to my lips. She sighed. “I met a man.”

My eyes went wide, my mouth dropped open, and I could feel my stomach fall and heart accelerate. “You… you’re going to leave me, so you just don’t care?” A feeling of dread started to envelop me and I could see my future disappear.

“Oh no, nothing like that,” she responded quickly, shaking her head. “I’m sorry I said that. I started the wrong way. But I did meet a man; and he did change my mind.”

I could feel my heart start to slow, but I was still really anxious. Rebecca went on before I could figure out what to say.

“Don’t worry, we were in the airport and he was on his cell phone and when he got off, he was just beaming. ‘Wow,’ I said to him. ‘You look like you just won the lottery.’

’No,’ he replied, ‘better. My wife just got her bone scan results back and everything was negative. Her doc says she doesn’t need to see her for a year.’ I wasn’t sure what he meant, so he clarified it for me. ‘She had breast cancer. They did surgery and then chemo and now she’s clean. This is the best news we’ve had in years.’ ”

I nodded to indicate that I understood what she was telling me.

“I asked him if his wife had a mastectomy, because that would be so difficult.

'Two,’ he said nodding. ‘It was horrible. She was so depressed.’ And then he nodded to himself and went on, ‘And so was I. I couldn’t imagine her without her breasts. I was bitter and angry that fate had done this to me, and started to withdraw. She knew what was going on and things between us got really tense. Then, one day in my husbands’ support group, I let it all hang out, figuring I would get lots of sympathy from the other guys. Instead, they really got on my case. One of them said, ‘What? You married her for her tits?’ They forced me to tell them about her, why we had gotten married and why we were still together, and you know what, breasts weren’t on the list. I mean, I liked them and all, and frankly, seeing a woman with a nice pair is still a thrill, but how stupid would I have to be to let breasts be the thing that made or broke our marriage. She has such courage, such strength, such warmth. For reasons I can’t quite understand, she loves me, and that makes me feel terrific. When you think about what really counts, breasts just aren’t that important. Where else would I find a woman like Elizabeth?’ ”

I silently blessed this man and his wife. They’ll never know what they did for me and Rebecca.

Rebecca sat there pensively, her head down.

“That’s what changed your mind?” I asked.

She looked back up at me and simply nodded, a rueful smile on her face. “I was such a fool to make a physical trait so important.” And with that, she bent down and gently kissed both my nipples through my camisole.

I purred.

“If you want to get implants, please do.” She cocked her head and smiled slightly. “Sooner rather than later, I think. I don’t want anything to happen to this big boy while you’re waiting for hormones to work.” With that, she reached down and rubbed my penis through my panties and continued to fondle me until I was again fully erect. This is something I’m quite fond of.”

I was thrilled. This was more than I could have ever hoped for. “Rebecca. . . .” I started.

But I didn’t get any further. She put her finger to my lips. “Shhh.” Then she removed her finger and replaced it with her lips, giving me a soft kiss. “Let’s eat, and then let’s make love. And the next time you decide to make an important step in your transition, let’s talk about it. Okay?”

I slowly nodded. I wanted to talk some more, but thought better of it. So I retied my robe and stood next to her at the counter as we nibbled different things from the tray, giggling and sometimes feeding things to each other.

Later, in bed, I did my best to thank her for her generosity of spirit and she did her best to cram my cock into her as many ways as she could. By the time we were done, we were both exhausted, and she quickly fell asleep in my arms. But I couldn’t sleep, and after thirty minutes or so, I gently untangled myself and got out of bed. I pulled my peignoir around myself and tiptoed out of the room, softly closing the door behind me. Then I sat on our couch, pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them and cried. Lying in bed with Rebecca, I had realized not only how much I loved her, but how much what I was doing must be hurting her. As I sat there with my guilt, I was having a hard time living with myself.