Cold Feet 6

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CHAPTER 6
I was happy that Sunday morning-of-sorts, despite the hangover.

I celebrated with another dose of my wonderful medicine, washed down with a cup of tea that I urgently needed. Hot tea; washes all the nasty grunge and taste out of your mouth and starts the rehydration process after alcohol abuse. I missed Joe; last night’s celebration would have been better shared.

Reality jumped on me at the moment that thought surfaced. Hi, you, want to celebrate my starting on hormones? Didn’t I mention? Hey, Joe, where are you going with that tranny in your arms? No, there was no way I could drop that one on him, and if I was to tell him I had to be really, really sure it would be the right thing, and the right time.

Once my hangover had abated properly, and I was reasonably sure I could ride legally, I took the bike out to Rhosili and sat for a while watching the waves. I realised I was now at a true crossroads. The way forward seemed to be so easy, so natural, and I smiled at the memories of the snogging and bum-grabbing of the other day. Everything was confirming for me what I had always known; I was a woman, pure and simple. As long as I kept a steady course, the side turnings could be ignored. No need to tell all the gory details to people, just let them assume and carry on with what seemed to be turning into the life I had dreamed of, yearned for.

I got up, and wandered along The Worm for a little bit, the westerly wind clearing the last vestiges of my thick head, then ran back past the supermarket for a top up to the larder. The rest of my Sunday was a lazy, indulgent slump in front of the TV, occasionally trying to feel if anything was happening to my body.

Back at work on the Monday, and my first case of piles. Arris pointed him out, a rather frail middle aged man in a faded suit, as I filled his scrip for some rather heavy duty analgesics.

“The word is he used to be a bit of a gay dog, if you take my meaning. Doggy style a bit too often…”

That was something she couldn’t realise about me, the fantasies I had been having about Joe in particular and men in general, and in my naivety I had assumed that there was only one…route to fulfilment for girls like I still was. The prematurely aged little man in front of me left me feeling both scared and confused, but at the same time oddly excited. I mean, he was there, obviously as ‘out’ as anyone could be, and nobody was rushing to attack him or abuse him. Perhaps the world wasn’t as bad as I feared. There again, he was gay, and I wasn’t, and perhaps there was a difference in how we would be perceived. He had kept his bits, and clearly used them, if in ways the mainstream of folk might not actually approve of, whereas I was going a couple of steps further. I was not what I presented to the world beyond the confines of my own mind, and actually hoping my own bits would eventually do a vanishing act. Not really the same thing at all.

I had a real surprise that afternoon; Joe rang the shop internal number and asked for me. With a very knowing look from the girls, I rushed to the phone.

“Hiya, gorgeous, what are you up to tonight?”
“Nothing planned, why?”

“Finally got myself settled into somewhere of my own, and I was wondering if you fancied a bite”

Did I ever. I had missed him, odd as that may sound for someone I had only met once, but my brain was still stuck on ‘teenager’ in its ideas about romance. We arranged to meet up at a wine bar at seven, and he was charm incarnate, hanging on my conversation as his hand was on my knee, and once again leaving me almost panting with arousal after a serious snogging session at the bus stop. I rode back smiling happily to myself as I used my mirror to try and fix the mess he had made of my lipstick, the world seemingly at my feet and not just beneath the top deck I was sitting on.

And so it went, week by week, and month by month. I spent money on hair removal, at a place Doc Owain suggested, I expanded my wardrobe, particularly in the matter of flat shoes, I rocked out at the Barn, sometimes in my most daring purchase, a leather mini, which seemed to draw approval, and every couple of weeks Joe would take me out for a meal and some mouth to mouth. My nipples were already puffing up as the cocktail of chemicals worked their wonderful magic, and when we kissed I felt my body torn in two, the oddity in my knickers straining with need while my nipples screamed for attention. I wanted him, but I couldn’t work out what exactly it was that I needed him to do, and I fretted endlessly when not with him about how, and when, and whether to tell him.

Christmas was coming and the shop had, of course, been preparing for it since around the end of August. Hallowe’en was never really a British ‘celebration’, so there was no conflict between the two festivals when the decorations appeared. Yes, Christmas preparations DO start that early. Soon, there was a tree, plastic but still a tree, in the pharmacy area, so people could be distracted while waiting for their fungal nail infection cream, or Valium, or insulin. I had arranged a few days holiday after Christmas, but had still drawn the late-night call out slot for Christmas Eve. New girl’s responsibility, I supposed. I had little idea how regularly that slot would fall to me as the years passed.

I didn’t see much of Joe before Christmas, and assumed he had his family to thank for that. Christmas is supposed to be a family time, and as I pulled up outside the old home and shook my helmet hair free into some semblance of femininity I was actually looking forward to my own special time. I wasn’t disappointed; my mother wrapped me in a hug as I came in, and as a token of how much he had accepted my new state Dad even gave me a kiss. We were going to have a late afternoon meal, in deference both to my delayed arrival by bike from the city, and to the fact that with the sheer quantity my mother normally served up tea would consist simply of the pudding we would be unable to enjoy after the meal itself. Enjoy? Fit in, that is.

Elaine had managed three days off, and we laughed like idiots as I detailed some of the odder ailments I prescribed for and she responded with details of the silliness and sheer lunacy of the drivers she chased down. We swapped our presents, and she quietly told me to open mine away from the parental gaze. That was wise advice indeed, as I doubt either heart would have survived seeing the underwear selection my sister had given me. Once alone, she hounded me for more personal gossip, and I told her about Joe. For some reason she seemed a little off with what I told her, but then smiled, and hugged me.

“My little sister is growing up so quickly she better not get dizzy!”

“What about you? Courting?”

“Might be…”

“What’s she like?”

Elaine just went all thousand-yard eyes, memories obviously dragging a fond smile that turned into a huge grin. “She’s lovely, and she’s called Siá¢n”

Her face fell. “And I just wish I could bring her home just like any other child would their partner”

I pulled her into a proper embrace, and whispered gently into her ear.

“And how are Mam and Dad treating me these days? They have more to them than you give them credit for”

“Oh, Sar…..do you think they would accept you bringing a man back? There are small steps, and big ones, and too many big ones too quick make you fall on your face. Trust me, we will both get there in the end, but I want a promise from you. Be careful. You could get killed if you come out to the wrong man. Please promise me, nothing rash”

I promised. We broke our hug, and went down to begin the process of eating for Wales.

Back after the holiday I was straight into the post-Christmas damage-repair rush. Funnily enough, I had also drawn New Year’s Eve for duty, so the first change of date as an independent woman was spent in my room with a cup of cocoa and the telly. I did get a call from Joe wishing me all the usual, sounding as if he was ringing from a pub. Obviously, the new boy didn’t get the same jobs as the new girl. Funny, that.

And so it went, as winter slowly dragged its filthy grey way through February and into March, and my breasts slowly started to take beautiful shape, and my beard vanished forever, and Joe left me shivering with need.

He had a car now, and I had moved up to a bigger bike ,a GT550, and we would often meet up for a walk along the coast before a serious snog in the back seat and then our separate ways home. I was wrapped round him one day, and he gently took my hand and started to move it up his thigh. I realised what he wanted, and after one of those silly internal arguments I let my hand be drawn gently up to his groin and the hardness there. It didn’t feel huge, but then my experience of cocks was sort of limited to one, and to actually be handling another made my chest ache. I stroked it gently, and squeezed it, and he shuddered as he slipped his hand down by mine. I heard the zip, and suddenly a piece of hot flesh was against my hand, which he wrapped round it. I felt the sliminess as he encouraged me to gently wank him, the skin sliding on the swollen head.

“Oh god, Sar, that is just so good…”

His tongue sought mine, and he tangled his hands in my hair, then broke the kiss. His hands stayed in my hair, and I realised he was slowly urging my head down towards his crotch. I knew exactly what he was after, as while I was virginal I was at least well-read, and I dithered for a while before sliding sideways on the seat and bringing my head down to his erect cock.

It looked rather the same as mine, if lacking my bikini trim, but it wasn’t mine, that was the point, and it tasted odd, but it felt so intense to take it in my mouth, and then suddenly there was more in my mouth and I had to gulp quickly and push my head back as he tried to force himself all the way down my throat. Oh god, that was exciting….I slipped back up beside him and went to kiss him, but he pulled away.

“Sorry, Sar, but you’ve just had a mouthful of spoodge and it would be a bit gay, you know? I better get going, anyway, said I’d take Mam out tonight”

Was that it? My first sexual act, and he was off out the proverbial door while his cock was still dripping? I stood by my bike as he drove off, wondering where this was actually going and, indeed whether it was going anywhere at all.

I felt really, really stupid just then.

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Comments

I don't think ...

... Joe is the one to 'come out' to somehow. Sarah had made one of the big relationship mistakes ... going out with a work colleague. It's nearly always a mistake and in her case a bigger mistake than most. Even if she breaks up with him (and she must) he will find out through the company grapevine when she eventually does and he may not like it. How life became simpler for me once I reached 30 ... Sarah has her terrible teens and early twenties to get through with an additional handicap to comfortable living.

A fascinating tale; I just hope our guide to Sarah's life treats her gently.

Robi

What a dick!

Oh Dear. Taken advantage of, but he revealed something there. He doesn't like gay, so I think she should let him get away, for her own safety. He's not worth it, not in any way.

Wren

feeling stupid

more than one girl (or boy, for that matter) has done something and felt stupid after, but she didnt do anything wrong. And she found out something about this man, and I hope she decides to not see him again.

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Cold Feet 6

What a cad he was to treat her that way!

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine