The strongest relation in a couple is made by imitating and understanding each other. If the two try to imitate each other, wear the same things, speak with the same words, have the same gestures and walk with the same steps, the result is a relation so strong that not even fire nor ice can break it. At that point, each one thinks like 'what can I do to make the other one more happy' and tries the best to improve everything. The reason of your existence is your partner and its reason to exist is you.

A forgotten philosopher, over 3000 years ago.

Because of an accident in which two people died, the mines are closed two days. This means Alia - Atan is now here, with me. He will not be going to the mines. So, he will be Alia, his feminine side, all this time. We wake-up and eat breakfast: bread, cheese, an egg, tomatoes and a few other vegetables. We both are dressed in the same kind of clothes. We have a black jacket, covering a green blouse. We have a black knee-long dress. Our feet are covered with black opaque tights and over them we layered green, demi-opaque pantyhose. We wear white open-toe plastic sandals, with platform heels. They are about 2 cm high at the toes and 7 cm high at the heels. Also, we have green hair and green nails. We added some lipstick and little make-up. Now, we both are women. Only his voice betrays him... and I still don't know how could I change that. His fake breasts work very well, under any clothes.

We both come to the railway station, to wait the train. Without miners, it will come and go almost empty. While I wait, I ask Alia a favor, to go to the shop and buy something that I ordered. He goes.

******************************************

"Can you go to the shop and get my command?" asks Nicotiana.

"Sure", I say. "What is it?"

"It should be some clothes. I give you half of the price, you pay your half", she says.

"Ok", I answer, as I start to go.

By now, I know all the corners of this village. It doesn't have what others might call roads, just dirt trails and paths. There are also many shortcuts through gardens. In other places of the world, this would not be possible: someone to take a shortcut through someone else's yard and garden, but here, it is all natural. I jump over a small fence, then walk on a path surrounded by grass, then open a small door and reach a road full of mud.

When I was a boy, in my previous life in the Civilized World, I always wondered how could women walk on high heels. Nicotiana told me: "Put your weight on your toes, not on the heels. And walk with smaller steps". Well, doing this in a city is one thing, but walking on muddy roads and on slippery grass, is another thing. What is good is that people accept me here as I am, half man and half woman. And what I also like, is that people here say hello to anyone. It is a sign of respect to hail everyone on the way. Here I see some people.

"Hi Ana!" says an old woman.

"Hi! Not Ana!" I answer.

"Oh, sorry Atan", she says.

"Hi Atan!" says a man trying to repair a fence.

"Hi!" I answer.

Not saying hello to someone is like you cursed that person.

The shop is now in front of me. Well, is it a shop? In fact, it is more a pub. Well, people come to talk, drink (tea, alcohol), to smoke and to hangout. It is also a shop. Except for the lot of mud in front of it. Two horse carriages are here. The horses are waiting their owners to return. On one side, there is a small concrete bowling line, while on the other side there are a few bicycles waiting. A drunk man is in a ditch, while two children pour water from the road in his ears. Children love to make fun of alcoholics. I have been here a few times, usually dressed as a man. As a woman, I only came with Nicotiana. It is the first time I come alone dressed as a woman. I enter. There is some smoke in here. A few people sit around two tables, playing chess. Others are talking.

I hear on guy, with a punk haircut, with vinyl jacket and baggy pants, talking:

"And you believe me? That bitch started to attack me! She hurt me, almost broke my balls! I want to kill her! I offered her 100 $ and she burned them! I want my money back!"

"Relax", says one man near him. "You will never get money from her!"

"Just be happy that she didn't kill you", says a woman.

"Has she killed other people?" he asks lighting a cigarette.

"Yes", says the woman.

Then, this guy looks straight at me and says:

"There she is!"

People around start to laugh.

"I'll kill you!" he shouts at me.

"That is not Ana", says a man. "That is Atan, her husband".

"What a fuck!" he says, with opened eyes. "What is that thing?"

I go to the bar and Ahmet, the seller, gives me a plastic bag, while I pay him.

"Hey, baby!" says the guy. "Want to sleep a night with me?"

I look at him, then move away.

"Are you not dead already?" I say.

"I'll kill you!" he shouts at me. "What's wrong? Is the skirt too tight?"

"I only speak with people that deserve to be spoken with, not with infidels like you", I answer and move away.

At that moment, he jumps over the chair to attack me. I crouch, make myself as small as possible... and he just runs over me and falls down, heating a wall with his head.

"I'll kill you!" he shouts again and comes to me. Without knowing what to do, I grab his hair and pull as strong as I can. Everyone laughs at him and one guy pours hot coffee on his clothes. The next second, he moves away, but I have some of his hair in my hands.

"Tell your wife that I'll come and fuck her, then I'll kill her. Next, you are on the list, bitch!"

People laugh at him, while I say:

"Where are you from, stranger?"

"Land Of The Sands", he answers.

"Better go back, boy. Anyone here can kill you!"

I move out, but he is still mumbling something there.

As I return, I am amazed by this. All my life, I was a punching bag. All bullies at school punched and bitten me over and over and I never dared to answer. When I was in 5th and 6th grade, some guys, after writing something on the chalkboard, returned and cleaned their hands of chalk using my clothes. Even the teachers were so used to this, that they no longer reacted. They even placed a bad boy near me, so that he will cool his nerves beating me in the classroom. But now, I am changing. I never ever gave a punch to anyone. I was a lonely schoolboy, staying in class during brakes or staying along in the schoolyard. My fun was to draw imaginary maps. And now... look what I am doing.

I realize that my parents are guilty of this, without wanting this to happen. Their strong personalities left me without any room for my personality. They never wanted to do anything bad to me... but they did. After my whole life of being dominated and suppressed, now I am finally free.

As I return, thinking about this, I see two women shouting one with the other, they know what for. At some point, one gives a punch to the other, who answers back with a hit. In other parts of the world, I should try to interfere or call the police... but what police exists here? I let them fight. The unwritten law says that you are not allowed to interfere between other people unless one is your friend or you clearly see that it is an abuse.

I return home. I give the plastic bag to Nicotiana, who opens it. Two pairs of leggings. She is in the kitchen, cooking something and smoking at the same time. I tell her about the incident and she laughs of that infidel.

"Good that I made him smoke!" she says. "He will die in these mountains very soon, just wait".

I hear the radio beeps. A train is coming.

"Go to the station, I will do the work in the kitchen for you", I say.

"Please, can you go?" she asks me. "I need to be careful doing this food, not to burn it. Ingredients stick to the bottom".

"Ok", I answer.

She told me how to use the radio station and how to signal the trains, but I've never done this before. But, it doesn't look hard. I go.

At the station, people start to come, to take the morning train to the capital. Honestly, I like people here. They are so communicative! They are happy and always talking, making jokes and having an opened heart. It is such a difference compared to the Civilized World where I once lived... in another life. There, people have some sort of anger. They are always talking that the minibus service is making delays (even if they have one minibus every 30 minutes, while here there are 4 trains a day, at 6 hours). There, people are obsessed that their salaries or pensions are low... but people here have at least 5 times less money and are making fun of it. There, people are literally intoxicated by their TV news programs, which throw venom through the screen, while here people are more interested in their daily lives. And of course, there, people are forbidden to smoke in public vehicles, in pubs, parks and even railway stations, while here, everyone smokes publically.

I talk with a few people, until the train comes. Back, in the civilized world, I would not dare to get into such a rusted train and I would keep distance to other people. But here, to be honest, I love these trains and these people.

I run in the station and signal upstream and downstream stations, as Nicotiana did so many times (only that, much slower). Then, I go out on the platform.

"Hurry, Ana, I am getting late!" shouts the train engineer.

"He is not Ana!" shouts someone.

"Sorry... Atan!" says the engineer, as I signal the train to go.

I watch it going downstream, then return. I don't think I traveled 10 times with a train before coming here. At that time, I was convinced trains are something that must disappear, slow, fashioned and useless for modern civilization. Now, I love them.

******************************************

As Alia comes, I finish doing this food. I take it from fire and while still boiling, I put it into jars. Food for the winter. Many things can be conserved this way. We go to the house. There, I take new clothes for us to wear, including these leggings.

"Today, we are going to be two house women, making preparations for winter", I say.

We start to undress. Then, I say:

"Stop!"

He stops immediately. We are completely undressed.

"Are you ok?" he asks me.

"I am fine. You?"

"Fine. What happened?"

We are both completely naked, only he has his fake breasts that I made from a bra filled with ripped clothes.

I light a cigarette and give him one.

"Can't you see?" I say.

"What? That we are completely naked?"

"Yes", I say. "And how do you feel?"

"I just want to put something on me".

"You still don't get it?" I say. "We are both naked and we look one at each other".

He looks surprised.

"And we have almost no repulsion about this. Nicotiana, this is incredible! But why? Why we can stay like this?"

"I have no idea".

"Let's stay a few minutes, to see how long we can".

We smoke a cigarette. I sit on one bed and he sits on another, completely naked. For the first time in my life, I see the body of a man as it is... well, except for the fake breasts. With painted nails, lipstick and painted hair, Alia - Atan still has something feminine. A woman with the body of a man. What my eyes fall on, is his penis. Is this how small it is? How strange! Not only that it is so small, but also looks soft, something like an empty balloon.

"I think that, if we don't touch and there is nothing erotic about, we can stay like this", says Alia.

"I don't know", I say. "I feel a small repulsion, but only small, to exposed skin. Do you?"

"I feel repulsion to sweat, but your body does not smell like sweat. A bit of repulsion, maybe".

As we finish smoking, we put on some clothes. This time, we wear light-brown pantyhose, more transparent, so that we can see our nails. These black leggings are tight to our feet and they end at half distance between knees and ankles. We have white low platform plastic sandals, with open toe. We both take a green blouse on, that covers our arms all the way to the elbows. Then, we add my favorite green lipstick.

"Ok, lady, let's go make food for the winter!" I say.

We go and start cooking. In the kitchen, I am the boss, he does what I say. Well, I noticed from the beginning that he does what I tell him to. It took me time to realize that this is because of his parents and their powerful personalities. Alia - Atan never had time to develop his own personality and ended-up with a truncated behavior. We've been together for an year and now he is slowly changing. In past, anytime I asked him something, he first moved back, then tried to answer. Anytime I said something, he said an unconditioned 'yes' first, then started to think.

We filled another set of jars with food. Now, we have a big metal pot boiling on the fire, waiting to be ready. We sit on the bed and light a cigarette. As doing so, I watch him. It is interesting that now, with these leggings, I can almost always see a little bulge in front of his legs. I notice that sometimes it is growing or decreasing in size. I've seen this at horses, male horses that are not castrated.

He figures out that what I am looking out and says:

"Nicotiana, if there is a problem, I can wear a skirt".

"No, Alia, it is not that".

"It is not comfortable", he says.

"If you want, you can wear a skirt. I am just trying to figure out when your thing grows and when it shrinks".

"I cannot answer this clearly", he says. "It just happens".

I light a cigarette, keep the smoke inside me and then blow it towards the roof. He lights one too.

"Does something similar happen to you?" he asks.

"You mean if anything grows? No, not at all, but we feel something. And it just happens, I cannot say clearly why and how".

He takes a drag of smoke, then lets it out through his mouth and nostrils.

"Just let it grow and shrink as it wishes", I say, taking another inhale. "I think this is the best way for us to see what are our limits".

"Ok", he says. "As long as it doesn't affect you".

"Do you feel anything that makes you increase distance?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" he says, blowing a long cloud of smoke.

"I mean, think about when we were naked in the house, about now, about anything".

"Yes, a bit", he says. "Exposed skin does something to me. But more then this, it is the smell of human sweat that repulses me. Well, if it is combined with the smell of pantyhose, I have nothing against", he answers, taking another inhale of smoke. "Touching, is another thing. Touching covered skin, covered with clothes, even pantyhose, is ok, but touching exposed skin, is not ok".

I make a small bubble of gum, then take a drag of smoke.

"I think that is the critical point for us", I say. "Well, if you were a man, I mean dressed like a man, I would have long stopped you. But as a woman, I can get much further, I don't know how far".

"Take your time, Nicotiana", he says. "We've been through all this and it took an year for us to reach this state".

******************************************

After the evening trains pass, we eat and return to the house. We take the fire from the kitchen strove and fill the strove in the room, to heat the atmosphere a bit.

The next moment, we light a cigarette and practice the smoky kiss and the gummy kiss. Our lips touch and smoke moves from one's lungs to the other one's. And so do our pieces of gum, which at some point touch one each other and got mixed. We also do a few kisses, shorter or longer. We kiss and smoke, then again kiss and again smoke. It takes nearly half an hour... until he touches my breasts. He didn't want, he knows that my breasts and my neck are my sensible points. My body twitches and I move away.

"Is everything ok?" he asks.

"You touched my breasts", I say.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to".

"No problem", I answer, blowing smoke in his face.

And as our lungs are full with smoke and endless clouds of smoke surround us, our feet are also touching and even gently massaging. Leggings on leggings and pantyhose on pantyhose.

At some point, we try to make a smoky kiss, but I push the smoke too fast in his mouth. He coughs as the smoke gets our through his nostrils. This makes me laugh, as his gum falls out of his mouth. I take it and put it into my mouth, then I take my gum and put it into his.

I lean on my back and put a pillow beneath my head, while my feet are on his lap. He starts to massage them, focusing more on the part covered by pantyhose and not on the leggings. As this goes on, I smoke. Clouds of smoke rise in the room, encircling both of us. And like before, beneath one of my feet, I feel his penis, increasing in size, even twitching a bit. I relax. I finish this cigarette and light another one, then smoke it all the way to the filter. He is so focused on my feet... all until I make a bubble of gum. At that moment, he looks at me.

"Do you want to change seats, Nicotiana?" he says.

"Yes", I say.

We change seats. Now, I am massaging his feet, while he sits on his back, with the head on that pillow, smoking and chewing gum. I like massaging his feet. It is something between another girl's feet and those of a man. Maybe he is something in the middle. A transgender. I keep a cigarette in my mouth while massaging his feet. At some point, ask falls on our feet. My hands gently push the ash into the smooth fabric of pantyhose and leggings, until it vanishes. Soon, I finish the cigarette, but I keep on massaging him.

We continue doing this for more then usual. And from time to time, I look at him. His face looks happy, fulfilled. All continues until the radio beeps. The night train moves up in the mountains. I have to go, but he comes with me.

We go to the station. As we wait the train, we stay close one to the other, on the bench. Our feet are touching. We hold each other with one hand, on the low part of our backs, so that we can feel where our leggings end. It is impossible to feel where our pantyhose ends, but this is enough. I put my head on his shoulder. I have a single cigarette and share it between us.

And then we kiss again. Our mouths have such a strong smell of smoke, incredibly strong. How much have we smoked today? Nobody knows.

It starts raining.

The train comes. It is only a small diesel engine, with one wagon for passengers. No cargo wagons are going now to the mine. At 3 AM, only this small engine and this wagon will return. Then, we go back to the house. The train is our signal to go to sleep. And not only for us, for the whole village.

"Nicotiana", he says. "I go out".

"I think I know why", I say. "I felt your organ growing and twitching. You need to masturbate".

"Yes. And you know we must have no secrets".

"I need to masturbate too", I say. "Only that outside it is raining. What are we going to do?"

"Well, you stay here and I go to the kitchen".

I say nothing.

"Why not you stay here and I go to the kitchen?" I say after a few seconds.

"I wanted to be more polite. We could try both in the same room, but I don't know if our bodies will accept this actually".

"We could stay today naked together", I say. "Who knows?"

"I have an idea", he says. "What if we stay both here, but in a way that we cannot completely see one each other?"

"How is that possible?" I say surprised.

"Well, you move to a bed, I go to the other one, but we cover ourselves with something. We could easily use a blanket".

"We can try", I say.

"We have enough blankets", he says, picking two.

"Ok", I say. "Just wait me to get my toy".

I go to the kitchen to pick my screwdriver. Then, I return to the house. I sit on a bed, he sits on the other one. We put a pillow on our backs and lean to the wall. We cover the middle of our bodies with a blanket, so that part of our feet, our heads and our breasts are out.

"Let's hope it works!" I say, as I start pulling my leggings down, then my pantyhose, then my underwear.

"I think it will work!" he says, probably doing the same. I can see his blanket moving.

As doing this, we both light a cigarette. I do this slowly, as usual, but doing it with someone close to me makes me a bit nervous. My body does not oppose me and this is really amazing. I blow a cloud of smoke under the blanket, to the place where my body is generating its pleasure. There, my hormones are now getting set under a level of control.

I look at Alia. Who could think he is a man? Even now, he looks like a woman. I see his pantyhosed feet moving slowly. I can see where his leggings end, but I don't see his knees. The blanket is moving with a rhythm and so do his breasts. He is holding one hand under the blanket and with one is moving his cigarette. his head, with green hair and make-up, look like of a woman. Even more, his fake breasts are visible.

I notice that his movements are different then mine. The pleasure is increasing and I again blow smoke under the blanket. He does the same, seeing me. Soon, our cigarettes burn to the filter. He moves faster, then immediately takes an empty pack of cigarettes under the blanket. I see a twitch on his face. His movements are slower now, until he stops.

"I am done", he says.

I feel the pleasure increasing. I increase the speed and make more ample moves. With one hand I hold the metal part of the screwdriver, while the back, the handle, is inside me. With the other hand, I gently massage the outside. Then, I feel an increase of pleasure. My whole body is feeling it, like a flame consuming me completely. What a deep pleasure!

As my body calms down, I feel exhausted. I slowly remove the screwdriver and look around.

"I am done too", I say. "Let's go to the kitchen, to wash".

Even if we masturbated in the same room and at the same time, even if we stayed naked face to face, washing together in the kitchen is too much for us. I let him wash first, then I go. When I return, he is nowhere. He explains me that men cannot reach orgasm unless they give out their fluids. He went to the river and threw the empty pack of cigarettes, now full with his fluids, in the river, washing away all tracks of what happened.

We return to the house, smoke one last cigarette and go to sleep. However, after all this, sleeping is the last thing I want. I know he is here, in the bed, near me. I know what happened, something I never thought possible. We reached this level after an year.

This is how sfenist love grows: extremely slow. I know we will never get to the level of a classic couple, where you see real sex occurring weekly or even more frequent. Probably we will never ever have real sex, but we still have something. We have our own happiness, we have our own moments, we have our love and most of all we do have a very strong affection bounding us together.

I just cannot go to sleep. And Alia also cannot sleep. We smoke a few cigarettes during night. But, in the end, we end-up sleeping. When the 3 AM train comes, I hardly awake. He also wakes and comes with me to the station. The train comes, just an engine and one passenger wagon. On the platform, 3 people are waiting the train to come and step in. Then, we return to bed.

"What we did is a trillion times better then when my parents forced me to have a relation", says Alia.

"It was something amazing", I say. "I never thought it to be possible".

Sexy, not porn. Watch, but not touch. Love, but not sex. This is how it is to be a sfenist.