The Twelve Days of Christmas - Day 7

The Twelve Days of Christmas By Tiffany B. Quinn “Hey Karl,” Jake says as he shakes my hand, “Sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk.” He has been busy taking care of the dozen or so guests all evening. “This transition stuff really sucks. Maybe we should talk about this more at your party on Monday.” “Will do,” I tell him, “I really need to talk about all this with a guy for a change.” I walk out the door to what promises to be an interesting second half of the night.

Sunday Jan 1, Day 7

Light is already streaming into my parent’s bedroom window as I awake to someone spooned up behind me and stroking my stiffened manhood. Neither one of us has clothes on.

I am suddenly fully awake trying to figure out what’s happening.

A soft feminine giggle sounds in my ear, “Are you awake now, lover?”

It takes a couple of seconds to orient myself. I am in my parent’s bed with a woman. A smile starts to spread across my face as I recall the after party. Joanna has turned out to be a very lively and imaginative bedmate. And yes, she did show me hers when I showed her mine. I think that we went through about half a dozen condoms before falling into an exhausted sleep. I didn’t think that I had that much stamina.

“I am now,” I tell her as I roll over to gaze into her smiling face. “But I really need to use the facilities.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” I beg her, “I will be right back.”

She is sitting up leaning naked against the headboard waving another condom at me when I return. “Are you up for another round?” she grins at me, “There is something else that I would like to try.”

There is only one thing a guy can say in a situation like this: “Yes!”

----<0>----

An hour and a half, and two condoms, later I finally cry uncle. There is only so much that a guy can produce! She just smiles and informs me that I don’t have to penetrate her to bring her to climax, then guides me in ways that I can bring her satisfaction without penetration.

----<0>----

By 11 AM we are laying in bed, both exhausted from our late night and all morning sexual gymnastics.

She rolls over on an elbow and takes a long look at me.

“What?” I ask her.

“I was watching you sleep this morning,” she tells me. “When I looked at you covered, you looked just like a woman sleeping. When I reached under the covers, however, I found a very pleasing male appendage. I am amazed at your changes over so short of a time. How can you be taking this transformation so calmly? Aren’t you freaked by what’s happening to you?”

She reaches under the covers to again stroke my manhood. It feels good, but there is nothing left in the tank, so to speak.

“For one thing,” I say rolling over on my side and reaching out to fondle one of her breasts, “What you are doing now isn’t going to bring life back to my cock. You’ve drained every drop out of it.”

“Just so you know,” she tells me with a smile as I roll a nipple between my thumb and forefinger, “if you keep doing that, you will have to follow it up with some more intense activity.”

I let go, but give her erect nipple a soft kiss before leaning back to look at her. She maintains her light grip on my flaccid cock.

“You ask me why I’m not more freaked out by these changes,” I respond to her question. “For the record, I am at least mildly freaked out. Before Christmas, the thought of changing gender had never entered my mind. In fact, I have rarely given gender much thought at all. It just hasn't been a priority.

"Over the years, I have included quite a few girls and women in my circle of friends and valued colleagues but not because of their gender. Then Judy came along. Judy was a failed experiment in a gender centered relationship. After the fiasco with Judy, I guess that I see intimate relations as distractions from getting established in my career. You may have been partly right the other day when you said that I was an asexual geek.”

“Didn’t you have crushes on girls when we were in school?” she asks with curiosity.

“Sure, I did,” I admit, “But mostly you all scared me.”

“Scared you?” Joanna looks confused. “How can that be?”

“Take yourself, Joanna,” I use her for an example. “You always came across confident and in charge.”

I give her nipple another soft kiss.

“Like our time in bed together,” I continue. “You have to admit that you have taken the lead in our sexual experimentation. Sure, I suggest a few things, but you know what you want and how to get it. Sometimes, in school, you came across a little overbearing. You were scary. I have to admit that I avoided you even though I did have a crush on you for a while. I was surprised the other day when you admitted to having had a crush on me. I have to admit that I was just a little heartbroken when you took up with that football player, Bob. When he started to brag about taking your virginity, I was very disappointed that you’d take up with such a jerk. Anyway, yes, you and most other girls intimidated me.”

“So, what does this have to do with my original question?” She looks confused. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“As I tried to say, since I was intimidated by girls and had a bad intimate relationship in college, I haven’t ever made a big deal about gender. It has been easier to treat everyone as people. Gender, race, orientation, none of it has ever really mattered to me. My priorities have been focused on my career and getting the job done since as long as I can remember. I judge people on how well they work together and how much they contribute to their team. I am guessing that, since gender never really enters into my relationships with others, then why should my gender matter?

“As I have thought about all this, if nothing else, I am learning about a whole new culture. It is like cracking another problem. I like problem solving and adjusting to a new reality is another interesting problem to solve, even if it is unexpected. Does this make any sense to you?”

“Not really,” she admits, “Most guys I know would be freaking out about now. They would be turning every stone trying to find a way to stop and reverse the changes. I don’t know if I could cope nearly as well as you if I were to transform into a man.”

“Even if it is out of your control?” I ask.

“Especially when it outside my control,” she says emphatically. “I really don’t like other people forcing me to do anything. I’ve had enough experience with people telling what I can and can’t do because I am a woman. Many of those same people, mainly asshole men, seem to think that they can dictate my life just because I am a female. I am proud to be a woman. I get great pleasure out of sticking it to the Neanderthals that some women insist on marrying.

“Not only that, but I like being feminine. Not for some man’s sake, but for my own. I like pretty things. I like dressing well. I like being free to express my feelings. I like the closeness of women friends. As near as I can tell, men rarely have friendships as close as women do.”

“You might be right about the friendships between men,” I admit. “I don’t have any really close friends who I can share things with. Jake suggested that he and I have a chat at tomorrow’s party, but I can guarantee that, if it happens, the talk will be superficial. And his is my best friend!

“However, when I think of my parents, I think that the relationship between a husband and wife can be stronger than any other bond, if they nurture it. I just don’t know how to do it, and haven’t made establishing such a relationship a priority.”

“Obviously,” she sighs, “I don’t know how either. I have a rather poor track record with men. If great sex were the main criteria for a marriage, then you and I should go see a preacher today. Last night, and this morning, have been mind blowing. I don't have a lot of sexual experience, but I can't imagine it getting any better.”

“It has been fantastic,” I agree with a grin as I reach out to give her breast a fondle.

“Most women that I represent tell me that their relationships started out with great sex,” Joanna tells me as she playfully swats at my hand. “However, how a couple treats each other outside the bedroom seems to have more impact on the strength of the relationship. My own parents had that problem. Mom tells me that she fell head over heals in love with Dad when they first met and they had a great sexual relationship when they got married. Then, not long afterwards, Dad started treating mom more as an employee/slave. He never got physically abusive and was a great provider, but he was emotionally distant, taking more interest in things outside the home than in her. They sort of drifted apart. Mom eventually established her own support network separate from the family. I was the youngest child and when I graduated from High School, they had nothing left in common. One day, my mom came home from work realizing that there wasn’t anything there for her anymore. She was getting more satisfaction out of her work and hobbies that did not include dad. She didn’t need him anymore. Without talking to him, she rented an apartment and moved out one weekend when dad was off on a hunting trip with his buddies. She tells me that he probably wouldn’t have noticed she was gone except no one was fixing his meals or cleaning his clothes.”

“That’s sad,” I empathize with her. “My parents both worked hard to put each other first. Their relationship was not always smooth, but they worked together to fix the rough patches.”

“Well, lover,” she smiles at me and giving my cock a playful squeeze. “The sex has been great, but we are a long way from establishing the type of relationship your parents had. If your mothers’ notes are anything to go by, we won’t have time to develop such a relationship.”

“Speaking of notes,” I sigh, “As much as I love laying around with a beautiful naked woman, maybe we should get cleaned up and go looking for today’s note.”

She gives me a soft kiss then giggles and races to the bathroom. I soon follow and we clean each other in the shower. It takes a bit longer than I usually take.

After our shower she shows me how to appropriately dry my hair. We have more giggles moisturizing each other’s bodies.

We both stand naked in front of the mirror before getting dressed.

"Karl," Joanna observes, "I am sure that you look a lot more feminine than you did when we got here last night. Your face is a much better match for your voice and long hair. Definitely a woman's face. Not exactly pretty, but if the changes continue on their current trajectory, you should be really cute."

Looking closely at our reflections, I sigh. "The scales say that I've lost almost forty pounds in the last week. My overall body structure seems to be more feminine except that I don't have your curves."

Joanna grins as she reaches over to fondle my cock, "Not everything is feminine. And you don't look at all pudgy anymore. I will have to hate you if you turn out like a supermodel."

"You have nothing to complain about," I assure her as I give her a playful pat on the bum. "You were always one of the prettiest girls in our class and nothing seems to have changed that. You were so sexy at the party last night that you had pretty much all the guys lusting after you. I was happy to be the lucky one to take you to bed. I saw Jake get an elbow in the ribs from Sarah at least once when he stared at you a little too long."

She smiles and gives me a quick peck on the lips, "Thanks for the complement, lover, it is nice to know that your eye sight is suffering too!"

Joanna has brought some casual clothes for herself. I pick out my light green boy short panties and cover them with the same jeans and sweatshirt I wore for house cleaning yesterday. My jeans don't fit right as they are way too big around my waist, so I end up switching to more comfortable sweat pants with a draw string.

I add today’s selfies to my growing collection of self-portraits.

Today will be spent putting the finishing touches on the preparations for tomorrow’s football binge.

Once dressed, we go in search of today’s note and gift.

We find two notes. One is beside a pair of girly socks and a flannel nightshirt in my bedroom laying on the twin bed. The other is accompanied by a small box with a bow on it.

Dear Karl,

Your dad and I are so happy that you have gotten closer to Joanna. She is a special woman. But then again, so is Anita. They will both be great friends, as will Jane, as you settle into your new reality. Treat them well and they will stand by you in your trials, as you should stand by them in their times of need.

The weather is getting colder. When you are home alone, nothing makes a girl feel cozier than a warm nightgown, fun warm knee socks, and a cup of hot chocolate.

Love, Mom

The note for Joanna reads:

Dearest Joanna,

We can’t tell you how much we appreciate you assisting Karl with his transition. He will soon need to adjust his legal identity. We hope that you will help with that.

Please accept the gift as a show of our appreciation for all that you have done for Karl.

With love, Karl’s mother

P.S. Keep your heart open. Your soul mate will soon cross your path and if your heart and mind are not open to new possibilities, then you might just miss your chance.

Opening the box, Joanna finds a topaz necklace. While not exactly the same as mine, the two are obviously similar. Her necklace also has that slight glow that I have noticed in mine.

“I don’t know if I should wear this,” Joanna eyes the jewelry suspiciously. “After all, look at what yours is doing to you. I’m afraid of it.”

I laugh, “I can understand that!”

I photograph the notes and my new clothes then text all but Joanna’s note and gift to our group conversation.

Jane: Nice. The nightgown looks very comfy.

Anita: I want one too!

Taking a look around the master bedroom, we find a dresser drawer with a wide variety of sleepwear. Everything from comfy flannel nightgowns to flimsy see through baby-doll nighties (with matching panties). It would seem that I now have all the sleepwear that a girl could want. The sock drawer is also full of a large assortment of foot coverings.

We work together to change the sheets on last night’s bed and toss them in the washer before fixing a light brunch of coffee, fresh fruit, toast and yogurt. We spend the time chatting about our work lives and what we like to do in our spare time, not that either of us have much of that as entry level professionals. We know a lot more about each other when we are done.

As we are finishing the kitchen clean up and start to organize snacks for tomorrow, the doorbell rings.

Opening the door, I am surprised to see Anita standing at the door with an overnight bag in hand.

My surprise must have been evident as she gives me a small smile and finger wave, “Hello Karl. I hear that you are having a sleepover. I can’t wait to see you in your new nightgown.”

Joanna comes up behind me, “Hey girl friend, you are early. Come on in.”

“Early?” I asked confused as I help Anita with her coat once she is inside.

“Yes, Karl,” Joanna says with her normal confidence. “We flipped on it yesterday to see who got you first. I won. Tonight, it’s Anita’s turn.”

“I hope you didn’t wear him out,” Anita gives Joanna a mock glare.

“I don’t think so,” Joanna grins back at her. “He recharges quickly.”

“Wait a minute here,” I say confused. “You both wanted to sleep with me?”

“Of course,” Anita says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “As your mom said in yesterday’s note, it has been a while since these two ladies have had their sexual itch scratched. What safer way to do it than with a great guy who is not going to be trying to claim us as his property just because we had sex with him?”

“Neither of us are normally into casual sex,” Joanna informs me, “but you are a special case.”

“Well, Joanna,” Anita seems to ignore me, “What do you think?”

“Mind blowing,” Joanna grins. “He’s really good at doggy position.”

“That is one of my favorites!” Anita claps her hands in glee. “I can hardly wait.”

I wonder just how many condoms I have left.

As if reading my mind, Anita pulls a new box of condoms out of her purse. “I hope that I brought enough!”

The ladies just grin at each other.

I wonder if I will be up to the challenge. I am almost looking forward to the change in gender. It might be easier being on the receiving end!

----<0>----

I get a couple of hours to recharge as we finish up preparations for the big event tomorrow. We work together to take down the Christmas tree and return all the decorations to their boxes in the garage, then we do a thorough cleaning of the downstairs rooms.

Once the girls declare that all is ready, Joanna fondles my stiffened cock through my pants as she gives me one last kiss. “Don’t go easy on her,” she whispers in my ear, then heads out the door.

Anita looks like a little girl eager to open her Christmas presents. The door is hardly closed before she starts running her hands over my body. She eagerly starts to work my pants off me. I soon discover that she isn’t wearing any underwear under the long skirt she is wearing today.

We don’t even make it upstairs for the first round. It is amazing what a couple can do on the living room couch.

As evening settles, we surface long enough to fix a light chicken pasta dinner with a green salad. It turns out that Anita makes an amazing Caesar salad. We play around feeding each other across the breakfast table while we talk about a wide range of topics, just getting to know each other better.

“Karl,” she says, “Thanks for letting me stay over. You are doing a lot to restore my faith in men. My last boyfriend was almost enough for me to give up on your gender.”

“Glad to be of service,” I smile at her.

“It is too bad that you are becoming a woman,” she says with a sigh. “There are not enough good men out there for us single gals. Sure, there are plenty of men who are good at sex, or think they are and want to prove it, but not many who know how to treat a woman with respect. You have always treated the women around you as equals. Do you know how rare that is?”

“Joanna was saying something about that this morning,” I mention.

“Yes, she should know,” Anita agrees. “She has to deal with scumbags every day. At least she gets to stick it to them.”

“Do all women have as low of an opinion of men as you and Joanna?” I inquire.

Anita just shrugs her shoulders in reply.

----<0>----

After dinner, she insists that I slip into my new nightgown and socks. She has a similar arrangement. After I am dressed, she lifts up the nightgown and critically examines the lay of my green panties.

“Not the best fit,” she comments. “Your butt is too small, your waist too big, and that bulge up front really destroys the image.

"If you are going to become a woman your body will need to go through a lot more obvious changes than it has. Some curves and breasts will be necessary. You won’t be able to hide a nice pair of breasts under your dress shirt. I think that your changes of the next few days are going to be awkward.”

“I thought that you liked that bulge up front,” I smile at her.

“Oh, I really do,” she grins back. “But not on a girl and in that nightgown, you look more like a woman, except for the flat chest. You have a face, arms, legs, hands, and feet that are more woman than man. It’s all the stuff in the middle that is desperately in need of updating if you are going to be a female.”

We curl up on the couch together sipping hot chocolate and watching some romantic classic. I don’t see much of the movie. We lose our clothes at some point and I love licking strategically applied whipped cream from her body. She particularly likes it when I get to some sensitive places and apply the techniques that Joanna taught me for pleasing a woman without penetration.

She gets to experience my skill with the doggy position too. Several times.

As we fall asleep in each other’s arms later that evening, I think of how good it is to have friends.