But soft, What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is in bed. That's me, my name may be Juliet (Julie to my friends) but no stinkin' Romeo is going to get me out of bed this early. Besides, I live in an RV and there's no damn balcony for Romeo to caterwaul under. No way he's going to get me out of bed this early.

Into bed? It's been a goodly while since there has been anyone but George in my bed, and George is Curious George, my tortoiseshell gray cat. Anyway, George is female because she was too little for us to to figure out if it was a he or a she when we found her and her siblings under my porch. Curious George she became and George she remains. So far she has voiced no objections to her involuntary sex change.

Anyway, with nothing more than sand and fake bones to view through the bedroom window there is little chance of a Romeo passing by, let alone landing in my bed. Seeing as I'm parked in the Flintstones RV Resort, it would be just my luck to find Fred under the covers - and with a twenty foot tall Wilma guarding the gate I think I'd take a pass. Anyway, I never could see what Wilma saw in Fred, even when I was a little kid.

Now Dino - he might be fun to have as a traveling companion, but he'd be just about as big as my little camper. Besides, I doubt most RV park owners would believe he was a dog. So many of them get excited about Pit Bulls, a dinosaur might be asking for trouble. Not this place, though. They have a Flintstones theme park behind that big wall over there and I can see Dino's head sticking out above it. Hell, they might even give me free rent if I brought a real dinosaur for the kids to pet.

That's what all the fake bones are about - they are almost cleverly disguised utility outlets for the camping spots. Unfortunately, they are a bit worse for wear with metal mesh peeking out where the plaster has broken off. The whole place has that air of gentle decay that happens when your theme park theme is a few generations out of date and people stop coming in droves. I'm not complaining, though. When I decided on the spur of the moment to visit the Grand Canyon I had to take what I could get to park the RV. The campground in the park was filled and the pirates wanted $90 a night to stay there, so here I am about an hour away in staying with Fred and Wilma.

Actually, it's not bad for being in the middle of the desert. There's electricity for the lights, a heater for the cold nights (deserts do get cold, you know), water for the shower and a place to dump the water when I'm done with it. There's not much more room than you need to swing a cat in my trailer, but since Georgie would object strenuously to such a procedure that's OK.

Now that I'm awake, there's a kitchen to make breakfast, but the sink is full of dishes I didn't wash. Hey - there's no one else to worry about so who cares about a few dirty dishes?

Not me! In fact, I'm going to let Fred make breakfast for me, just like he has for the last week. Fred's Diner is pretty good and breakfast is cheap, so I motivated myself enough to get dressed and walk over to the low, fake stone structure to get some food. I was going to have to motivate myself to do some laundry today - no more clean jeans and my last bra really should have hit the laundry last night but I was too tired. The lack of storage in a small RV does mean you have to keep the clothing inventory down to a minimum. Too bad Wilma doesn't do laundry as well as breakfast.

What the hell - I'll shock everybody and wear a skirt today, not that I have much choice. Wilma and Betty always wore skirts as I remember my childhood; being good sixties housewives even if they were from the Stone Age. At sixty-six there are not a few people who think I'm from the stone ages these days.

"Mornin' Betty," I offered as I sat down at the perfectly normal, modern table to order breakfast. "No Wilma this morning?"

"Wilma has to babysit Pebbles and Bam-Bam. You still want breakfast even though it's time for the lunch crowd?"

"I'm only here a few days and you already know me too well. It's only eleven-thirty!"

"I can't wait until I retire, and I ain't talking about going to bed tonight."

"This working crap ain't what it's cracked up to be, just like the crap about the early bird and that stupid worm. I want bacon and eggs for breakfast, not some slimy worm."

"We've got Gummi worms over in the gift shop - my kids would be perfectly happy to eat them for breakfast."

"Thanks, but I'll stick with more traditional fare. Two eggs over easy and a mess of bacon. Wheat toast and rock berry jelly or whatever cute name you have for it."

"Smuckers. The cute names got old long ago."

"So did I, but nobody's called me cute in decades."

"Someday your prince will come, meanwhile I'll get you some breakfast."

"My prince already came, but it wasn't on a white charger - he was riding on my charge card so I kicked his ass out. I never could figure out why Rapunzel wanted to leave her nice, cozy tower to entertain some stinkin' prince."

"Some people will do anything to get laid."

"They don't mention that part of it in the fairy stories, do they?"

"Not exactly kid-friendly, is it?"

"Nope, but my kids are older than you these days."

"Then maybe you'll luck out and find a more mature prince."

"Nah, by the time they reach my age any prince would be a Old King Cole or Henry the Eighth. I'm kinda fond of my head."

"The Tower of London is quite a ways off, but check out the Watchtower in the park. You'll love it."

"I know, I went there years ago and it's great, so I'm headed that way today, at least if I get my laundry done first."

"Enjoy your breakfast, Julie. It'll be up soon."

With that the waitress went to put in my order and I spent some time playing Spider Solitaire on my phone.

 

Breakfast was good and I lingered over it playing a couple more games of Spider Solitaire as is my habit these days. I noticed the postman delivering a box of mail as I finally got the hang of the same stupid game I had been playing over and over without solving it. He gave me a funny look as I involuntarily shouted "Gotcha, you bugger!" at my phone as the cards did their little dance on my screen. Good thing my hair is prematurely gray so I can pull off the 'crazy old lady' thing with some credibility.

Having succeeded in wasting the remainder of the morning, I headed out to go collect my laundry basket. As I passed the checkout counter Betty said "I think you have a package over there, Julie."

"Thanks, Betty. I've been waiting for this."

Sure enough, there was a big envelope with the Amazon arrow on it and the name 'HUNTER' scrawled in large letters across the open white space. "Looks like this time they actually did make the two-day delivery on time."

"Jeez - you see that article about the Post Office faking delivery of Amazon packages so they don't lose the business?" asked Betty.

"Wouldn't surprise me a bit. Traveling around like I do I use Amazon a good bit, and I can testify that when their site says 'delivered' it doesn't always mean it's waiting for me at the place I'm staying. Most of the time it works pretty well but not always."

"I know what you mean. I've had some pretty grumpy customers accuse me of swiping their packages when they didn't show up on time."

"It takes all kinds. I worked retail way back when I was going through school and I know the kind of customer you're talking about. Best part of getting my degree was not having to stand at a counter and listen to cranky people."

"Didn't help me. I got my degree and then I ended up owning this place so I have to stand at a counter and be nice."

"So you're the owner, cook, waitress and counter help. And they call stuff like this 'small business'. Nothing small abut the workload, is there?"

"Nope, and it pays better than a McFranchise when things go as planned."

"Has anything ever gone as planned?"

"Nope, but I still like it."

"So do I, I think I'll stay here a bit longer than I planned if you have room."

"No problem, stay as long as you like unless the Shriners suddenly decide to hold a convention at the theme park back there."

"Would you let them ride those little kiddie carts around the place?"

"If they paid me and didn't run over anyone, more power to them!"

"Let me know if they do, it should be quite a sight. See you, Betty."

"Have fun at the tower, Julie."

By the time I started back the weather had warmed up quite nicely, so I carried my coat under my arm. Back in my RV I threw the package on the counter. Being in the kitchen, I forced myself to do the dishes. With them dripping in the drying rack I pulled the cute little zip tab on the package, wondering how they managed to fit several blouses into a package so small. The answer was soon obvious - they hadn't. Instead there were several bras - three rather pretty ones and one plain beige. The pretty ones were labeled 40D in large letters but the plain one was a 40A. Since I'm a 34B, someone had screwed up royally.

That wouldn't be the first time Amazon had screwed up, but they had never been this far off before. Looking at the paperwork the order was correct for bras as delivered, but the name on the order was Jules Hunter, site 72.

Jules.

Now what were the odds of having a Julie Hunter and a Jules Hunter staying at the same RV park together? Obviously 100%, as I was holding his order in my hands. His bras, eh? He had nice taste, I wouldn't mind wearing them myself if they fit.

I'd seen the guy in site 72 a couple of times - long hair, clean shaven, earrings, tie-dye shirts over a bit of a pot belly, denim shorts and hairless legs when it warmed up in the afternoon. Why is it some guys insist on wearing shorts when it's cold outside? Maybe he's a retired mailman.

Not bad looking, either. At my age I had really not put much effort into dating. OK, I'll be honest - I hadn't had a date in years and had pretty much given up on finding one. Not that I'd given up on looking, not by a long shot. Too bad my interest lately has been of museum quality - look but don't touch!

You may have noticed that I didn't assume they were a present for his wife or girlfriend, or maybe another error on Amazon's part.No sign of a resident female, long hair and earrings; put two and two together and you have 40A without falsies and 40D with. Sherlock Hunter, that's me. I didn't sit through all those training classes on sensitivity and diversity and gender identity for nothing.

OK, I was curious. Not having to maintain my professional demeanor any longer I could indulge my curiosity about someone who crossdresses just because I wanted to. Maintaining my sensitivity to such issues, of course.

The question was: do I give the package back to Betty to deliver or do I knock on the door of site 72 and hand him the package myself? Silly question - of course I was going to happily use the excuse to meet the guy. He had a nice smile when I passed by and he was out. Besides, looking at the pile of laundry I had to do I decided if he had gotten my package I could really use those new blouses, so I could put off laundry another day - maybe even two if I was lucky. One of those blouses should even go a lot better with the skirt I was wearing than the faded T-shirt I had on.

OK Jules - prepare to meet thy Juliet. No Romeo needed, thank you.

 

Have you ever wondered just why the hell you decided to do something? Standing at the door of the big RV in lot 72 shivering slightly, hand raised to knock, I suddenly wondered just what I was going to say to a complete stranger when I handed him a package of bras. Just how do you go about telling him you've opened it?

I have never had any problem with people whose sexuality was outside the norm, (and yes, I know the difference between sexuality and gender identity, but does that really matter in this situation?) but that's a far cry from telling a stranger who has probably spent his life hiding his crossdressing that I know his secret. Mutual embarrassment was probably the best I could hope for, not to neglect confusion, obfuscation or outright anger. Maybe I should just take the package back to Betty or Wilma or even Fred and keep my nose out of it.

Then the door opened.

"Howdy! You going to just stand there or what?" my stranger asked.

"That's a damned good question."

"You got an answer?"

"Uh… yeah. You must be Jules Hunter."

"That's me."

"Would you believe I'm Julia Hunter?"

"Well I'll be damned. Really?"

"Yeah, really. I opened a package of yours by mistake."

I offered him the torn envelope.

"Well, come on in and we can have a good laugh about it."

"Uh… sure."

Up close he was a very appealing man. Certainly not beefcake masculine, but there was something warm and friendly about him that attracted me.

"I don't bite and you look to be shivering."

Well, I was; but the cold was only part of it. If this were some silly romance novel I'd go on about how sparks flew and the air was fraught with sexual tension. Well, at my age that would be stretching a metaphor a bit too far, but he was a pretty sexy man and I knew it.

He stepped back and let me enter.

"I can't believe this! Your place is cleaner than mine was even when I bought it. How do you do it?"

"I have a deal with the pixies who come in every night to take care of the place if I leave a bowl of milk and some kibble out for them."

"Why didn't I think of that? Of course my cat would eat the kibble before the pixies got there and I'd have a labor situation on my hands before the first week was out."

"I could babysit the cat for an evening if it gets too bad. I have a nice deal with the pixies, I bet they would cooperate if they thought we were cousins or something."

"Having almost the same name is a bit odd, isn't it?"

"Weird - I guess this package must be yours, then," he said pointing to a big envelope on the counter. "I haven't opened it yet."

"I'm afraid I opened yours."

"Well, since you opened the package I expect you have some questions."

"Far be it from me to question anyone's choice of underwear."

"But you've got to be curious, right?"

"I did spend a bit of time puzzling over the discrepancy in sizes."

"And did you solve the puzzle?"

"If the two of us use the identical name at times, I suppose I did."

"You ought to try out for Jeopardy. You have the correct question for the answer 'crossdressing'. I do go by Julie part of the time."

"I was hoping I wouldn't embarrass you."

"I'm pretty open about the crossdressing these days; nobody but me to embarrass and I can even go out in public if I don't mind the occasional funny look or nasty remark."

"You do have nice taste in underwear… Did I just say that out loud?"

"Yup, and thanks. May I say that I love your skirt? Sometimes I think that us crossdressers are the only people left who enjoy wearing skirts these days."

"You could be right. The skirt is because I ran fresh out of pixies and the laundry pile has all my jeans in it, not to mention most of my underwear."

"So we're back to talking about our underwear again. You're the first person since my late wife to have seen my underwear."

"Now doesn't that make me feel special?"

"I hope so. I doubt that was what Mr Rogers had in mind, but I'm glad you do."

"I hate to say this, but I think we have somehow found ourselves in a Monty Python sketch."

"I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK…" he sang.

"I sleep all night and I work all day," I responded. I couldn't help myself!

"I haven't cut down any trees lately, this being the desert, but I do wear high heels."

"Dang! I donated all mine to the Goodwill when I retired. I hate the stinking things."

"Which proves genetic women are far more intelligent than those of us who just like the clothes."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"I have…"

"I may have to resort to a bikini if I don't take my clothes over to the laundry and do something about the pile. Meeting you has rather distracted me."

"You're a welcome distraction, yourself. Why don't you bring your laundry over here and use my machine? No need to feed those old machines an endless stream of quarters."

"What? You have a washer in here?"

"And a dryer. Small but quite capable as long as I have a sewer connection. Even if there's no sewer I can do two loads before I fill my euphemistically named honey wagon and have to drag it to the dump station."

"You're making me jealous. Up until a couple of minutes ago I thought my little trailer was perfectly suited to my needs. Now I'm envious of a man who I only met a few minutes ago."

"Well, if the man part is a problem I could change while you get your laundry basket."

"You're kidding."

"Only a little bit. You'll find it doesn't take much to get me to dress up."

"You'd trust me that much?"

"Like I said, it doesn't take much. Besides, I'm dying to try on my new bra now that it's here."

"You're sure you're not really a woman?"

"DNA comes out XY. Brain function comes out sort of XXXY. My kids call me 'dad' most of the time as I don't dress around them much."

"And considerate, too. You must be right about all those brain Xes. If you're willing, I am curious how you'd look."

"Miss America I'm not, but I do a fair middle aged matron and am gradually working up to grumpy old lady."

"Not enough gray in your hair, Julie. Maybe we can be fraternal twins or something, but I'm not ready to be an old lady yet."

"A Boston Marriage, perhaps?"

Marriage? How did we get onto that subject, Boston or otherwise?

"Your X is showing. A proper woman doesn't propose marriage on ten minutes acquaintance."

"I'm not a proper woman."

"We'll see. First, I'm going to get my laundry basket."

"The washer is behind the curtain by the door. Don't knock, just come on in. I'll shut the bedroom door until the grand unveiling."

"You're going to wear a veil? How Victorian!"

"All us proper Boston Ladies wear veils in public, don't you know?"

"It's got to be a Monty Python sketch, for sure!"

 

Once again safely within the confines of my homey little trailer I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. In with the good air… out with the bad. In with the good air… out with the bad. That childhood chant steadied me a bit as I stood in wonder at just what I had been doing.

How in the world did a happy, well adjusted (don't argue with me!) woman of sixty-six years end up agreeing to bring her laundry over to the home of a man, a complete stranger even if he shared her name, where he was even now changing into a woman's clothes and wearing a bra that I had given him! Well, sort of given him.

I was confused!

I was curious.

Damn it - I rather liked the idea. Maybe it would give me something to slow down my fifty-years-past-adolescence carnal cravings. Then again, maybe not…

It was fun sparring verbally with Jules. Intelligent, funny, provocative. I liked him. I hoped I would like her.

Yet… Somewhere deep within my brain a little voice was saying 'this could turn out badly.' Serial murder… rape… mutilation… bodies in the sand… Charles Manson.

Dammit, I gave up TV news because of that fear-mongering crap. Yes, it happens but not like the talking heads wanted you to believe so they could up their ratings. Never met a serial murder yet. I did know a for-real murderer when an acquaintance went off the rails and murdered his wife, but I wasn't about to marry my namesake.

Did that make me safe?

Wait a minute - I hauled out my phone and texted Betty at the office that I was going to spend some time with Jules and if I didn't show for breakfast to come looking.

I damn well wasn't going to stay over for breakfast! Are you kidding me?

That's all I needed - lascivious thoughts about a strange man in a dress. Well, at least menopause had made birth control unnecessary.

What was I thinking?

I was thinking I needed to open that package and try on the new blouse and see if it goes as well with the skirt as I hoped. So I did and it did.

Confused? So was I, but I liked the outfit. I gathered up the soap, shooed Georgie from her throne atop my laundry basket and went to explore these new possibilities.

 

Funny how I have this aversion to knocking on this door. I stood there, shivering, for a few seconds and then said 'what the hell, at least there's heat inside' to myself and opened the door, tossing my laundry in before me.

"I'm back," I called

(Mumble, mumble, mumble.)

Oh, yeah - the door to the bedroom was shut. I pulled aside the curtain next to the entrance door, still marveling that this trailer had a washer and dryer in it. After a few years of sitting around in dingy laundromats waiting for cranky dryers to finish drying I really regretted I hadn't gotten something big enough to have a laundry in it.

Figuring out how to use the machine occupied me for a while, letting me conveniently forget that I was waiting to see Jules wearing the bra that I had inadvertently delivered to him. Nervous? Who, me?

Yeah, me.

So I perched on the edge of the love seat and twiddled with my phone, hoping I wasn't going to make a fool of myself. And hoping that Jules wouldn't be doing the same. Shortly, I heard the sliding door roll open.

"Well hot damn!" I exclaimed. "I think I just found me a new girlfriend with great taste in clothes."

Julie the Second (I come first, naturally) was wearing a marvelous fringed tartan skirt and almost Victorian blouse as she descended the steps from the bedroom. Teal toenails, matching her fingernails, peeked out of the sandals that she wore beneath the long hemline. Her curly hair had been released from the pony tail it had been in when I arrived and was bouncing around her shoulders, allowing flashes of the big gold hoops that hung from her ears to show through. Not much makeup on her face, either.

"I love the toenails, but you really don't intend to go outside in sandals, do you?"

"I may be crazy, but I'm not insane. I'll put on something more appropriate before going out."

"I love the outfit, you are one classy lady, Julie."

"I try."

"Is it too personal to ask what did you did with your beard?"

"I sat still for hours and hours while some sadist poked needles into me and zapped the follicles away one by one. She had the nerve to charge me by the hour, too."

"If you went through all that to look like my sister then why the hell are you still running around as a man? I don't get it!"

"Most people don't, including me. Sometimes I like being a man, sometimes I like being a woman. I guess you can say I like it both ways and don't want to do anything irrevocable."

"Curiouser and curiouser…"

"Well, Alice is my middle name when I'm dressed like this."

"Thank heavens. If your middle name was Ann I would have really gotten spooked by the coincidence."

"But we do have the same middle initial."

"Just don't go endorsing any checks, OK?"

"I haven't endorsed a check in years. I do my banking electronically these days."

"So do I. My daughter lets me use her address for mail, but it can take months to catch up with me."

"I use my son's address. He gives me a call if something that looks important shows up."

"So does Jules or Julie Alice answer?"

"Whoever I am at the moment. It's hard to break character. He's used to it."

"You don't say."

"OK, I won't."

"Smartass!"

"I hardly know you and you're commenting on my ass. How forward!"

"So how about if I say you have a nice ass when you're wearing tight jeans? I have noticed."

"I'll return the compliment. It's nice to see your ass in a skirt for a change. I've noticed as well."

"You're going to have me blushing like a teenager if you don't stop."

"You know, Julie? I think we could get to be friends. They're rather hard to come by in my position."

"They're a bit sparse in my life, too, I replied. "Couples don't quite know what to do with an old spinster lady and my work friends drifted away when I retired. Traveling all the time doesn't help, either."

"An occupational hazard, if one without an occupation any longer can be said to have one. When I retired and let Julie out of the closet most of my so-called friends kind of melted away. When Sarah died I kept the RV and sold the house; too many memories. The kids are grown and have kids of their own. That's part of the reason I decided on the traveling life, I can visit the grandkids who are scattered around the continent without having to worry about an empty house or who's going to feed the cat."

"Me too, but I brought the cat with me."

"Aren't you afraid it'll run away?"

"Nah, George is pretty smart, always finds her way back home. Hey - I guess you and she have something in common, she doesn't care if anyone calls her a boy or a girl."

"Well, I'd get a bit upset if anyone called me a boy right now - tends to get sticky. You been through the Bible-belt yet?"

"Born and raised. Got the hell out when I got my degree and lived in Pennsylvania until I retired."

"Well, my turn to be damned. I lived in a little town in Pennsylvania for many years myself. I was even a cubmaster and nobody realized I was a atheistic heathen or a crossdressing freak-of-nature. Not even the Catholic priest, who was a good man and never messed with any of my boys."

"I don't get it. If you wanted to be a woman why would you be doing something so manly as the Scouts?"

"That's just it - I don't want to be a woman, but I often enjoy feeling like one. I do like being a man much of the time, but our society is pretty screwed up when it comes to deciding just what makes a man a man."

"Try being a woman in the medical profession - it gets obvious real quick. I got it bad enough being a nurse, but I've seen some of the younger women doctors ready to scream and cry dealing with jerks who want to talk to a friggin' man!"

"And if they cried the jerk would know that the poor woman was just an emotional wreck who couldn't know what she's talking about. Screwed both ways."

"Careful how you use that term. There are some who could misinterpret it"

"I'm tempted to point out how fucked up that whole business is but I'm too polite."

"Yeah, right. And despite current appearances you would be the fucker and not the fuckee."

"If I'm involved, such activities are by mutual consent and neither side is controlling the other."

"I bet those Scouts of yours turned out to be pretty good men."

"I would hope, but I left town before most of them hit high school."

"Oh? What happened?"

"I liked my job, I liked the people, but the place closed. The boys really needed to see a stable marriage with a father who loved his children and took part in community activities. The divorce rate in town was ridiculous - they needed to see a man who was kind and loving and thoughtful. A good half of my boys came from divorced homes, quite a few had dads in jail, That part of me is just as real as the part of me you see right now.

"I think it's important for everyone to be able to show all of their personality, not just the side that custom dictates. I guess you could say I was in stealth mode, undermining the gender stereotypes that ran rampant there.

"But the plant closed down - there was no work and no hope of finding a new job that would pay the bills. I did high tech stuff and it was basically an agricultural community. Dairy cows don't need programmers and system integrators very much. Lost my shirt - or I should say our shirts as I was married at the time - selling the house. It took us a decade or more to recover. Life looked pretty good for a while."

"Which is where I get to ask one of those open-ended questions like 'tell me more'…"

"It sounds so banal, but it was the flu. Who the hell gets excited about the flu? Sarah felt lousy, took some aspirins and went to bed. But she kept getting worse and she didn't want to bother me by calling me at work when she felt so bad. When I got home and saw how bad it was, I took her to the ER, but it was too late. Two days later she was dead despite everything the doctors could do.

"I screamed and yelled at myself because we hadn't bothered about flu shots - no time, why spend the money? Fucking flu isn't anything to worry about - we were both big, strong people in good health. Our stupidity cost us her life."

"I'm so sorry!"

"It was years ago, but sometimes it still gets to me. I damn well make sure I have my vaccinations up to date these days, no matter where I am. I had a case of wanderlust so I set out to see the world. I've been a bit of a recluse since then."

About then the washer started beeping as the load was finished and the intimacy we had developed was interrupted.

"Sorry, Julie - I didn't mean to get so personal." I offered.

"No problem, You're easy to talk to. It feels good to let it out, even if I thought I had worked through it."

"I suppose I radiate my ex-nursing status unconsciously. I spent a lot of years getting people to trust me."

"I'll say. I lost about forty years and reverted to the scared kid I once was when you handed me that torn-open package of bras. I thought I had gotten over the fear of being discovered; I've been pretty open about my dressing since Sarah died and I retired - not the social or work consequences there used to be.

"I haven't ever switched between Jules and Julie in one place before, though. Even if I can pull up stakes and drive away from a bad situation I don't want that situation to develop. There is something about you that makes me think I can trust you. You're obviously not Nurse Ratched, eh?"

"Damn! I hate that stereotype. Sure, some of us can be as nasty as she was, but you have to be able to relate to your patients and gain their confidence if you're going to help. Sort of exude an aura of confidence and caring."

"You've got that one down cold. Warm rather, you're a very warm person. Me, I always thought Mark Graham wrote I Can See Your Aura And It's Ugly with me in mind."

"And how do you feel about that? That's the universal response when you haven't got a clue what to say."

"I bet you're good at answering a question with a question, too."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"Smartass."

"We've already established we have a mutual admiration society for asses, haven't we?"

"As lot safer than commenting on breasts."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but when I saw a D cup on your bra I was afraid I was going to run into a guy with a breast fetish. The D cup suits you nicely, Julie. The few gender bending men I've run into tended to exaggerate such things and look like caricatures."

"Guilty as charged, in my youth. I finally settled on a D cup because I always thought my breasts should stick out farther than my pot belly."

"So if you lost weight you'd 'go to C,' as it were?"

"No, I'd be C sick. Not much chance of losing weight, I hate dieting and love to eat."

"Why is it that women always end up talking about body image?"

"A societal flaw? In my case I have to think about shaping my body more than a natural woman. Then again, I have options normal women don't have."

"Like taking off your bra when the weather gets hot?"

"Not if I want to remain Julie. As another song says: I enjoy being a girl, although I really enjoy air conditioning just as much in the summer."

"Dang! I wish I'd had a sister like you back in the dark ages of my youth."

"Having a sister just like me might have been a bit too controversial for most people."

"Julie, I've been thinking of you as all woman from a few minutes after you came out of the bedroom. You have the moves and the attitudes. You even know how to use makeup. You are hereby designated as my new sister / girlfriend / partner-in-crime. Besides, you have a washer and I don't. In my book that tips the scales way toward the feminine."

"I don't do ironing."

"Neither do I! In an RV - perish the thought. Hey - this stuff is almost done. I was planning to go and see the Watchtower this afternoon, you interested in joining me?"

"As Jules or Julie?"

"Your choice, but it seems a shame to make you do another change of clothes."

"And I really do like this new bra so any excuse to keep wearing it… OK, you've convinced me. I'm up for my first outing with my fraternal twin sister. Let me help you fold your clothes. Uh… I'll let you do your underwear."

"Hey - I got to check out yours, I won't mind if you see mine - as long as it's not on me."

"Dang!"

Even as I said it I knew I was fudging the truth. I wouldn't mind at all if Jules fondled my underwear , especially if it was still on my body.

 

I took my laundry back to my RV and sent a quick text to Betty, telling her I had emerged safe and unmolested from my visit - and even had a new friend - before Julie Alice came by in her big pickup.

"I've always loved the watchtower," I told her. "The artwork is amazing. The architect that designed it was determined to have the local artists involved so it would seem more authentic. I don't know how she convinced the railroad tycoons to spring for the money, but they got their money's worth in creating a tourist destination."

"She?"

"Yeah, you're not the only one who likes to play with gender roles."

"Sharp as a serpent's tooth, she is. But I'm no architect."

"Too bad. I could use one to design a set of stairs to get into this monster truck of yours."

"Hey - it's only a baby F-250. A real monster truck would have wheels taller than you are and a crane to lift you into the passenger seat."

"No thank you. I like my little Toyota pickup just fine."

"And I like this thing just fine, but I do have to have a bit of muscle to pull my RV. She runs about seven tons."

"Damn, a chick into muscle cars. I hate to think what your altar ego would consider manly enough to disperse his testosterone."

"Please, I'm a Sensitive New Age Guy. If I didn't have to haul my home like a turtle I'd be driving a Prius. Besides, I enjoy watching macho idiots gape at me when Julie get into this thing."

"Do you ask for directions when you aren't wearing a bra?"

"I don't want to shock you, but I'm almost always wearing a bra, even as Jules."

"What?"

"I wear a bra almost all the time no matter how I'm dressed. Well, there are exceptions like when it's 100 degrees out and a sweat covered shirt would be a bit too revealing. Other than that I just love the feeling of wearing a bra."

"Julie Alice, you are too much to believe. I wear a bra because I have to or I hurt. Even with my, ahem, modest endowment I don't like the aching. I'd gladly forgo hot, sweaty elastic around me if I could. An yet you think wearing a bra is fun?"

"I'd sing it's praises to the skies, but you already heard my excuse for a singing voice and I wouldn't want to destroy a budding friendship."

"And nobody notices?"

"Almost never. Anyway, how many people are going to point at a moderately big guy and start yammering about my choice of underclothes?"

"Depends on how drunk they are, and I haven't been that drunk in decades."

"Nobody understands me!" she declaimed theatrically.

"I'm trying. I'm trying to imagine wanting to be a man enough to wear a jockstrap. I suppose that's as close as a woman can come to your bra fixation."

"I think you'd be better off with a codpiece. Quite Shakespeareian, I would think. Considering our mutual name, it would certainly be appropriate."

"Considering the number of lousy fish-smell jokes I've heard about the female genitalia I would certainly not consider stuffing a cod into my jockstrap."

"I find myself floundering around for an answer."

"Stop that!"

"You're the one who got us started on this conversational path by discussing my underwear."

"I could have sworn I was asking if you asked for directions if you weren't wearing a particular piece of underclothing."

"And I was just trying to tell my new friend that she had posited a condition that was not valid in asking her question."

"Good grief! Your eloquence is astounding. Almost as astounding as your bullshit!"

"At this moment it would be cowshit. I am trying to be female, you realize."

"Horseshit then. I am an expert in gender neutral language when necessary."

"Gender neutrality is of little appeal to a crossdresser."

"Unlike wearing a bra."

"Correct, that part is most appealing despite my mother's childhood admonitions about underwear and hospitals."

"And what does she think of Julie Alice?"

"Hopefully nothing. The one time she caught me with her bra she wasn't pleased and I learned to keep her in a state of blissful ignorance. However, I did take her warnings about wearing clean underwear to heart in case I ended up in the hospital. What the people in the hospital would think is something I have yet to learn."

"I can assure you that more than one man has arrived in the ER with women's underwear that has to be removed. There have been much stranger tales to tell after a shift in the ER. And if you don't keep you eyes on the road you could still end up in the ER yourself. I speak from personal experience as a nurse, you realize. Professionalism demands we keep a straight face when such things happen, but we do talk about it in the lunchroom."

"I'll try to stay out of your professional clutches."

"I'm retired, you're safe. Was this whole excursion into your underwear a way of not answering if your more manly side asks for directions?"

"Jules doesn't need to ask for directions, I have a GPS for that."

"Ah, technology. I'd say something sarcastic except that I rely on my GPS too much. So when Jules is cruising the town, is this hulking vehicle a chick magnet?"

"It got you here beside me, didn't it?"

"Oh dear! Should I be concerned for my virtue?"

"Now why would two women of a certain age be concerned for their virtue while sightseeing?"

"There could be wolves prowling around, you know."

"Well, the Feds are trying to repopulate wolves around here, but some people aren't too happy about it."

"I was speaking of the two-legged kind. That kind are not in need of any help to repopulate."

"A truth throughout the ages. I've even been hit upon myself a time or two."

"Enjoy the experience?"

"Actually, it was kind of nice to know I projected femininity so well. The types who go after women of my age didn't seem so bad, mostly. Maybe the testosterone poisoning has faded a bit."

"Honey, you haven't been a nurse. There's nothing worse than a horny old man who can't get out of bed trying to get you in there with him."

"Wouldn't all the wires and tubes get in the way? Not to mention all those alarms that would go off if he got too excited."

"Hell, nobody pays any attention to the alarms - they are constantly squawking and beeping."

"I'd be squawking too if some old fart was trying to get me into bed like that."

"Comes with the job - young farts, too. You learn pretty quickly."

"There are times when I think I should just give up on Jules and stay Julie forever."

"Hey - most men are kind and generous and respectful. Don't let the assholes get you down."

"I won't, then. And I promise I won't let Jules ever be an asshole in your presence."

"Which leaves you the option to be an asshole when I'm not around?"

"It's sort of like stock options - you have to know when to exercise them."

"As a nurse, I have had to clean up far too many times when some asshole exercised his asshole. One of the less glamorous parts of the healing professions."

"Shit happens, eh?"

"Anyone living in an RV knows that bit of truth, eh?"

"But you get to wait until you accumulate thirty-five gallons of shit before you have to do anything about it."

"So, you're telling me that size counts? Anyway, my black water tank is only twenty gallons. Why do they call it black water when it's always brown?"

"Ah, for that answer you need an old salt. The Navy distinguishes brown water sailors and those that operate in fresh water, such as a muddy river, and blue water sailors, such as sail the great, rolling sea. No matter how much a sailor might carp about his job, there is no chance he wants to be known for sailing on shit."

"Probably some blue-blood came up with black water, then. Probably for the same reason they call the tank you haul your variously colored waters off in a honey wagon. Euphemisms let you sneak up on reality from behind."

"Sort of like what I do as Julie?"

"Honey, it ain't your behind that that new bra is supporting."

"I'll have you know I use the finest silicone that money can buy."

"I have to say they bounce like the real thing. Can I be jealous?"

"Up to you. If you get too jealous just think of what these two hunks of plastic are going to feel like in the summer heat."

"I guess the urge to be a woman must be pretty strong to put up with such things."

"It is, mostly. But I'm not ready to give up my male side, either."

"You know what's really strange?"

"Other than me, you mean?"

"I really don't care if you look like a man or a woman. I just like you, even if I've only known you a few hours."

"Cool. I'm getting to like you a lot, too."

"Gad! It sounds like we're a couple of teenagers on a first date."

"At least as Julie you won't have to wonder if I'm going to try and get you into bed."

"I could be a switch hitter."

"Then I guess I'll have to worry if you're plotting to get me into bed."

"I like to keep 'em guessing."

"You'll pardon me if I hope I don't keep the general public guessing. Besides, I never put out on the first date"

"You're a weird woman, Julie Alice."

"I thought we had established that when you handed me my new bra, Julie Ann."

"This is a weird conversation."

"That ought to tell you something about me."

"I suppose it does."

"By the way, if I don't concentrate on the road rather than the conversation I'll miss the turn."

"We've already been over that."

"Hold on!"

She didn't quite go on two wheels, but she did make the turn.

"Damn! I wouldn't have made that turn in my little pickup."

"That's the worst pickup line I've ever heard."

"So shoot me - I don't try to pick up many women."

"You'd be out of your weight class if you tried to pick me up."

"I don't intend to bench press you."

"I hope not. Since we're not in a bar I couldn't be a bar belle."

"I can get out and walk if you keep that up."

"Did you bring your mad money hidden in your shoe in case I turned out to be a serial killer?"

"Nope, just a stiletto hidden in my boot."

"Not in the heel, I hope."

"I told you - I threw out all my high heels when I retired."

"I guess I'm safe, then. It's cold enough I'm glad I changed into my hiking boots, even if they hide my pretty toes. I'll try to behave."

"I hope so - we still have a good twenty minutes until we get there."

"Care to make it longer?"

"Does it involve any further attempts at humor?"

"Funny you should ask…"

I didn't say anything but I think my look was sufficient.

"OK, I'll behave. We could make a stop at the Tusyan Ruins on the way."

"OK, I'll bite - what are the Tusyan Ruins."

"The remains of an indigenous settlement from umpteen years ago. Interesting piles of rocks these days, but it used to be a place where people lived. I saw it years ago on a family vacation and they have a nice little museum."

"Why not? You ever been to Hovenweep? Those are some pretty impressive ruins."

"Not yet. I was thinking of heading that general direction - see the desert parks before it gets too stinking hot."

"A woman after my own heart."

"I just want to go where it's warm enough for sandals so I can show off my pretty toes."

"It still flips me out to be in the desert and have snow."

"It's the altitude - we're pretty high up. They don't even open the North side of the canyon until the middle of June because of the snow and cold. It's a thousand feet higher than the South side."

"So the park brochures say. Pretty primitive over on that side, I gather."

"Yup - dry camping. These days I appreciate the modern conveniences like electricity and running water a whole lot more than I did years ago."

"So do I. Don't forget air conditioning - I love air conditioning!"

"You sure you aren't my long-lost twin sister or something?"

"Mom never mentioned it if you are."

"Short, stocky woman. Blonde hair, hazel eyes, voice like a foghorn?"

"Nope. Short, slim, green eyes and red hair like I used to have."

"Guess not. Cousins, then?"

"When we get there and you're not driving I'll give you a kiss and see if we might be kissing cousins. Did I say that out loud?"

"Either that or I'm reading your mind."

"Seems I don't know my own mind these days."

"Don't get this wrong, but such thoughts have crossed my mind more than once today."

"I guess when you hit our age you don't have time to waste on teenage angst."

"Or middle aged angst or old fart angst. We crossdressers are experts at angst."

"I can't help but wonder how two mature women kissing in a parking lot would be viewed by the other tourists."

"Shock and awe?"

"How military! I thought they were into 'Don't ask, don't tell'."

"Since you asked, I'll be glad to tell you what I think of the kiss."

"I don't put out on the first date, either."

"Neither would I in a parking lot."

"You're a weird woman, Julie Alice."

"You're just a weird, Julie Ann."

"Don't miss the turn."

"Oh, that again! You're a terrible distraction."

"Likewise. Don't run over that woman who's wandering around in front of us."

"Can I be henpecked if I'm wearing a skirt or do I have to change back to pants for it to count?"

"Park the car, darling, and don't argue."

"Definitely - I can be henpecked wearing a skirt."

"I suppose you can now that same sex marriage is legal."

"Can I park now since that woman is out of the way?"

"Be my guest."

So she parked and we got out of the car, slinging our purses over our shoulders and heading for a small building.

"Jeez - she drives as distractedly as she walks." she commented as the woman swerved out of the parking lot.

"Oh look! She's gone and there's no one else in the parking lot."

"Shall we?"

Oh my! We did and she was one heck of a kisser. It was strange to feel a pair of breasts pressing against me, but my attention was on kissing. Like I said, she was very good. How good? You may ask but I'm not going to tell.

 

"Doesn't look like much, does it?"

"Like a pile of rocks?"

"Maybe we could call those guys from Fixer-Upper on TV."

"I wouldn't try Love It or List It either, neither choice looks like it would work."

Amazing what inane conversations you can have after a kiss like that. At my age!

"I suppose living in a mobile home was a bit different a couple of centuries ago."

"Like if you were one of the plains tribes with their tee-pees?"

"I bet they never worried about advance reservations over the Internet."

"I think you could call this place the original fixed abode."

"More like the original Tiny House. Not much room in these spaces."

"Didn't have any Facebook friends, either?"

"I ought to send you a friend request."

"I think you already did. Whew!"

"You can say that again!"

"Whew!"

"Literal woman, aren't you?"

"Which would make you a figurative woman?"

"My figure is somewhat artificial."

"Nothing figurative about that kiss. I just don't do things like that any more. I'm too old!"

"Nonsense! You're never too old for a good kiss. What would your grandchildren think if you didn't kiss them?"

"I ain't talking about grandchildren!"

"Neither am I. I've never kissed another woman while I was dressed before. Especially one I just met."

"I've never kissed another woman like that, either."

"So you can teach an old dog new tricks."

"What a nice way to call me a bitch."

"Shut up and kiss me again while there's no one watching."

Whew!

"Even looking like a woman you still give directions like a man."

"See why I'm not ready to give up on Jules entirely?"

"Do I get to date him one of these days?"

"Why not. It'll be a new experience for both of us."

"I've known you for what, six hours - and already we're necking like teenagers and I'm asking for another date. You're a fast worker."

"Me? I wasn't the one doing the asking."

"It was just a suggestion. A very good one, I have to admit."

"Then may I suggest we do a little more walking before my feet freeze to the sidewalk?"

"Cold feet, eh?"

"Feet - yes. Lips - NO!"

"I'll be damned if I'm going to kiss your feet, Julie Alice."

"I'll be damned if I take my shoes off until we get back home, Julie Ann."

"If I take off my shoes would you paint my toes to match yours?" I asked.

"Why not? Sounds kinky."

"I still don't put out on the first date."

"But you're willing to dip your toe in the pond, as it were."

"Wet feet wouldn't hold nail polish very well."

"I'll try not to slobber while I'm kissing them."

"You know, even Monty Python wouldn't believe this conversation."

"Why not? They used Cupid's foot as a trademark.

"You know too damned much for my own good!"

"Say again?"

Julie Alice looked confused. About as confused as I was, if you want to know.

"I woke up this morning with nothing more romantic in my head than doing laundry. Every time you open your mouth you make me more interested in you - both sides of you."

"I woke up this morning with nothing more in my head than wandering around the Grand Canyon by myself and seeing the sights. Not that I'm complaining after that kiss, but you have me a bit discombobulated. I just hope a foot doesn't come crashing down from heaven before I get another kiss."

"Greedy little beggar, are you?

"Not so little, I would think."

"Don't be so literal, your other side is showing."

"A few more kisses like that and I fear something of my other side might start showing. A pity as you don't put out on the first date."

"I think we better stop right there and return to the sightseeing before things get out of control."

"They aren't already?"

"I haven't been flattened by a foot so I think we're still safe."

"Let's not try to test that assumption too hard, OK."

 

The ruins were interesting, but you can only look at rocks for so long before they loose their luster. Actually, since they were just plain old ordinary rocks that didn't really have any luster to start with, but you get what I mean. A couple of more kisses were far more lustrous; pretty, shiny memories to keep rattling around my brain.

Eventually we found our way to the Watchtower, where we dined sumptuously on hotdogs, crappy frozen fries and cokes. If you're looking for fine dining you won't find it at a park concession stand, but you will get a full tummy. And an empty wallet. Concession stands worldwide have that in common.

As we strolled from the concession to the tower, somehow our hands met and stayed together, despite the many other tourists walking around. Score one for tolerance and modern attitudes - no one seemed to notice us at all.

Me? I sure as hell noticed I was holding hands with Julie Alice, and I was pleased to be doing it. It had been years since anything vaguely like romance had entered my life.

Entering the watchtower was incredible, it was simply beautiful. The ceiling was made of logs formed to resemble a Kiva, the natural wood glowing in the suddenly reduced light of the inside.

I think it was truly involuntary on both of our parts, but our arms settled comfortably around each other as we looked upward and admired the architecture. What a magnificent place.

Leaving the great entrance hall, we entered the main tower, which was gorgeously decorated by Native American artists long before we were born. Gawking like tourists, but with our arms firmly around each other, we slowly admired the artwork.

Finally, we took hold of the railings and ascended the stairs after reading about how the iron railing had been covered in elkskin to keep with the natural theme of the tower. Each level was a joy to behold, until we finally made our way to the top level and stared at the ceiling artwork until our necks began to ache. That's where I found out that Julie Alice had very supple hands for a quick neck massage.

I could get to love that girl, even if she's not quite all girl. I'm not going to be complaining.

When we had our fill of the Watchtower, we consulted the tourist brochures and decided to take a side trip to the Cameron Trading Post on the advice of some of our fellow vacationers, stopping along the way at several of the numerous roadside vendors. These local craftsmen, mostly Native Americans, had some beautiful jewelry and such at very reasonable prices, and most were quite willing to tell you about the area and themselves. We met quite a few really nice people along the way.

Our informants were right - the Cameron Trading Post was something to see. It certainly wasn't your kitschy "Trading Post" filled with plastic junk from Taiwan, but had a great variety of arts and crafts from the Southwest, many of which were far above our budget but worth the asking price. A fun place to visit.

The sun had long set by the time we were back home in Bedrock, but we were reluctant to part. I managed to find something to call dinner, which we shared with Georgie in my little home, finally parting when our beds called to us.

OK, I'll admit that there was a faint call of another bed buried under the cry of my own, but, like we both said, neither of us put out on the first date, no matter how tempting it might be.

That final kiss damn near overrode our good intentions, however.

 

But soft, What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet Ann is up before the rising of the sun. That's me, my name is still Juliet (Julie Anne now distinguish me from my namesake) but no stinkin' Romeo got me out of bed this early. It was someone named Julie Alice, not Romeo, for cryin' out loud.

I didn't sleep so well. I was cold, and not because the heater wasn't working right. It's the kind of cold I haven't felt since my husband-the-doctor-that-I put-through-med-school ran off with some bit of fluff and left me with two little kids to raise.

At least the judge was sympathetic and awarded me and the kids enough to live on and let me get my MS in Nursing after a lot of hard studying. I almost went for my own MD but I was still a bit annoyed with certain doctors and wasn't sure I wanted to be one myself.

That was thirty-six years ago, a long time to be single. Not that there hasn't been the occasional man sharing a bed with me, but we both understood it wasn't going to be permanent and parted friends.

This morning I woke up with one thought in my head: isn't it nice that I'm past menopause and don't have to worry about birth control any more.

Somebody want to give me a dope slap and knock some sense into me? I spend one day with a nice guy who is a part-time woman and I'm fighting off a hormone rush like I haven’t had since fell for Jerry Kaminsky in high school. And Jerry, the stupid bugger, didn't know I was alive.

I don't think that's going to be a problem with Julie Alice. Like the old song says: It's in his kiss.

All right, her kiss.

Their kiss.

I was in lust. I'd admit it freely in the privacy of my own thoughts.

There's a light on in Julie Alice's RV, do I dare call her? Maybe a text, that won't wake her up if she sleeps with a nightlight on.

#Hi Julie Alice. You awake?#

This is worse than waiting for the phone to ring because when I grew up a girl just didn't call a guy. Not the done thing. Back then I wasn't allowed to wear pants, skirts only. I wonder if Jules was into wearing skirts back then as well. I'll have to ask someday.

#Restless night. I guess that means you're up already.#

#Want to meet me for breakfast?#

#Of course. When?"

#You dressed?#

#You should know that question has a peculiar meaning in my case. I have clothes on, but among crossdressers 'dressed' means you're wearing a skirt or dress or suchlike. - Jules#

#I hope you haven't fallen as low as knotting a tie around your neck.#

#Perish the thought!#

#Meet me at Fred's diner?#

#I'm on my way.#

#Jules#

 

Unlike Jules (I assume the signature was Julie Alice's way of telling me that she wouldn't be the one to show up for breakfast this morning) I was still in my nightgown. Even if I had done my laundry yesterday and had plenty of jeans fresh and clean, I figured a date with a crossdresser called for me to at least make a stab at being a bit more feminine than usual. Besides, I still had one more new blouse to try on and even had a skirt that went pretty well with it. No makeup - no need to get too carried away - butterfly hair clasp with (gasp!) a ribbon running through it and I was ready for the day.

Oh yeah, a warm jacket - mornings were still a bit chilly yet - which I hung up immediately on entering the diner. I was going to make an entrance after taking the trouble to put on a skirt!

There sat Jules, wearing a flannel shirt and bluejeans, looking for all the world like a lumberjack. No manly, jutting jaw and the long hair was out of character, but after our impromptu duet yesterday the lumberjack comparison was inevitable. The look on his face made the effort of dressing up a bit worthwhile. He rose and bowed, then kissed my hand! I responded with my best curtsy and a smile.

"Good morn, fair lady," he spoke.

"Good morning yourself, my stalwart lumberjack." I answered.

Releasing his hand I swept him up in a hug, complete with passionate kiss. I was in lust, no way I was going to hide my feelings this morning. I don't know how long it lasted, but Jules was just as good as Julie Alice at the game.

"Well, well, well!" came a voice from afar. "Too bad we don't have a motel here or I'd tell you two to get a room. Of course, since you both have your own RVs it wouldn't matter much, would it?"

I suppose Betty wanted to take our orders, so I released Jules, my hand drifting down his back as I let go. Yup, Jules was wearing a bra. Well, Julie Alice had warned me, but I just had to find out. I restrained my impulse to snap the band in back, I hated that when someone did it to me in high school.

Sitting across the table I couldn't tell a thing through the colorful shirt he was wearing. It ought to be a new experience taking off a lover's bra before bedding him. I wonder if I would find it as sexy as most men did when they removed mine.

Damn, I had it bad.

"You're just jealous, Betty. Can't I share a kiss with someone who shares my name?"

"As if I'm going to stop you. Pretty weird having a Jules and a Julie Hunter staying here at the same time."

"I don't know, I find it quite satisfying, myself," replied Jules.

"Obviously. Things get any hotter in here and I won't need the griddle for the bacon."

"I, on the other hand, will need a double portion of bacon to provide the sustenance to keep up with this fair lady," grinned Jules.

"Better bring him lots of carbs, I want him to have lots of staying power, Betty."

"Do I want to hear all these details?" laughed Betty.

"Are you a screamer, Julie Ann?" asked Jules.

"Don't answer that question! I do not want to know!" Betty was very good at fake outrage.

"A proper lady does not reveal such things," I snarked.

"Then I can't wait to hear your answer," Replied Jules.

"You had better be patient, buster."

"Patience is a virtue with which I'm well endowed. I hope you enjoy waiting for the inevitable climax."

"That's it! Cut it out or you can go back to one of your own RVs and cook you own damn breakfast. Unlike some people, my husband won't be back for a few more days."

"I fear the poor girl doesn't have any patience, Julie Ann."

"I don't, either. Hotcakes for two, rockberry syrup or whatever you call it and a couple of eggs over easy. I may need some carbs and protein myself."

"An order at last. Try to keep it down a while while breakfast is cooking. Don't drive off any of my customers, OK?"

"Fear not, Betty. We shall behave ourselves while we wait," assured Jules.

"That was fun, Jules," I told him after Betty had left. "Almost as much fun as kissing you."

"Wasn't it though. Amazing how much closer to the surface desire becomes when I'm not wearing a skirt."

"I'm wearing a skirt and feeling more than a little desire at the moment. How in the devil did we get here in less than twenty-four hours?"

"Well, how long has it been for you since desire has padded its little paws into your life?"

"Enough years I've lost count," I replied.

"I haven't wanted anyone else in my bed since Sarah died, and that's quite a while now. It's rather nice to know I can still get excited about sex. I wasn't sure any more, but I think we may both be about due. Finding someone who kisses like you do has me thinking thoughts I thought I had no need to think at my age."

"I think you are overthinking the whole thing. Just say we like each other and haven't had sex in a very long time."

"Not an elegant summation, but pertinent."

"It seems the only question left is 'your place or mine?' "

"Perhaps not the only question."

"Do tell?"

"You could pack an overnight bag and accompany me on a train ride. If we hurry we can make it to the Grand Canyon Railway before it leaves the station. We could enjoy a leisurely trip to the park and spend some time in a rustic hotel, thus assuring poor Betty that she will not have to find out if you are a screamer or not."

"So you think I put out on the second date?"

"I think we would both be put out if you didn't. Besides, nature has decreed that I provide the output and you accept the input; thus logically you are not required to put out at all. You have a way of making my aged body think it belongs to a callow youth. By the way, I long ago made sure that I am shooting blanks, as it were, and have nothing else in my body to transmit to anyone else."

"As have I; it was worth the hot flashes to not have to remember to take that pill each morning. Getting older does have some benefits."

"So now the question is: can we make it all the way to the park hotel without sneaking off to a sleeper car on the train."

"Who's lacking patience now? Besides, an excursion train wouldn't need a sleeper car."

"You're entirely too logical."

"You're saying this to a woman who has the hots so bad that she wants to jump your bones less than a day after we met? The woman who spent most of last night kicking herself for going home and not climbing into your bed."

"So it was you who was broadcasting those dreams into my sleepless head."

"We're too old to waste time denying what our bodies are telling us, especially since our minds seem to be meshing so closely."

"You guys going to break it up long enough to eat breakfast?" Betty asked as she started to unload a truly prodigious meal before us."

"Got to keep our strength up!" we replied together.

"See - one mind, two bodies," opined Jules.

"Keep it up and I may have to revise our advertising. 'Love Boat' is already taken, but I need something more catchy than 'Love Trailer' if I'm going to cater to geriatric sex fiends."

"Too bad this place is oriented toward kids, I could think of some great ideas but you'd lose the family trade," I offered.

"Just so you two don't start a family right here in my dining room. Eat hearty, folks.

 

Speaking of reverting to childhood, I dithered like a teenager over what clothes went into my overnight bag. For the first time in years I found my snuggly warm flannel nightgowns were most definitely not what I wanted to wear to bed in the winter. Trouble was, with the limited storage space in the trailer I had long since abandoned sexy nightwear.

I wondered what kind of nightwear Jules would bring? An interesting question when meeting a crossdresser in bed. Perhaps we could dispense with nightwear altogether and spend the night in the altogether. I hope they had lots of warm blankets at the hotel.

Enough daydreaming! I had precisely one matching bra-and-panty set to my name, so I packed that along with my third and final full skirt. Pitiful! I was going to have to wash clothes again the way I was going through skirts.

How had I become so damn practical as I grew older? I didn't even have a pair of stockings to wear under my skirt so Jules could take them off. I think I may have a pair of pantyhose somewhere in a drawer in case I had to get dressed up, but I wasn't really sure about it.

I don't think the word sexy had even crossed my mind in years, let alone affected my behavior. Sexy… Jules was sexy in a completely different way than Julie Alice. Odd how, even knowing Julie Alice was a man under it all, I was attracted to the feminine side of the man. Damn! It gets hard to keep your pronouns straight in a situation like this.

Enough! My turn to drive today, so I fired up the Toyota and pulled up by Jules' trailer, where he tossed in a suitcase about twice as big as mine and hopped in.

"You planning to stay for a week or two, lover?" I asked.

"Packing for two, who knows what the morrow may bring when we finally put on some clothes."

"Complicated leading a double life?"

"At times. I couldn't decide whether to bring a nightgown or a pair of pajamas."

"So you brought both?"

"Uh-huh."

"I was annoyed when I realized I didn't have a sexy nightgown any more. Haven't needed on in ages."

"I prefer flannel this time of year. Sexy don't keep you warm."

"Unless you have someone else providing the sexy."

"You volunteering?"

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. Do we still have to pretend we're married to get a room in a hotel these days?"

"That went out with the sixties."

"Then we could be in trouble, I'm still in my sixties."

"Maybe there'll be enough time before the train leaves to find a couple of rings in the gift shop. A classic ploy from the movies of the era."

"Good thing we don't have to do the drug store scene where you agonize about buying a box of rubbers."

"Only if you insist on using them."

"As a nurse I should know better, but I trust you when you say we won't need them."

"I appreciate that - we won't."

"Besides, it's just so completely unromantic removing the thing when we're done."

"It is a bit awkward, but much less awkward than raising a baby."

"Grandbabies are my speed these days."

"Hard to resist, aren't they?"

"Sure are. You'll have to meet mine sometime," I offered.

"Love to. How do you go about bringing your lover home to meet your kids? I've only had experience introducing her to my parents."

"I phone them up and and say 'guess who's coming to dinner?' "

"And would they get the reference?"

"They've seen the movie, my daughter was sweet on Sydney Poritier for a while."

"Does it strike you as a little strange to be plotting to introduce me to your family so soon?"

"You mean stranger than introducing Julie Alice to them?"

"Would you?"

"Want to head for Flagstaff when you're canyoned out?"

"You're a fast worker. Am I going to have to get on one knee to put that fake ring on your finger?"

"I'd rather have you do it where Betty can see the action. Wouldn't that get her going?"

"You certainly do come up with some original ideas. Here I am scheming to get you into bed and you're scheming to introduce me to you grandchildren. What happens if I'm a dud in bed?"

"You change clothes and we try it the other way?"

"I hope your body proves as flexible as your mind."

"I'm not up to hanging from a trapeze or working our way through the Kama Sutra."

"How would you do it on a trapeze?"

"No idea, but since the hotel wouldn't be too thrilled by bolts in the ceiling we'll just have to see what we can come up with."

"Too bad we're not in the Bible Belt. I bet some of those Adult Entertainment Emporiums would have illustrated directions."

"You ever noticed how anywhere there's a plethora of Jesus Saves billboards there's just as many for Adult Entertainment?"

"Actually, the last time I was through the area the buzzword was Romance Superstore."

"Well, I prefer a good shot of romance in my sex, just so you know."

"Do I need to polish up my armor and send for my white charger?"

"That would be a well hung stallion, I presume."

"You ever seen a horse mating?"

"Never."

"Believe me, there's no romance involved. The lady is often unwilling and the stallion is in a hurry."

"Not quite what I had in mind. Slow and tender is more my scene."

"If we don't stop talking about this stuff I'm going to have a hard time with the slow part. You're as horny as I am, Julie Ann."

"Right the first time. You're sure they don't have sleeper cars in the train?"

"We could ask - that's the station over there."

"There's a hotel right over there, we could take the train tomorrow."

"As who was counseling patience just moments ago? Romance takes time."

"So you say."

"And so I'll do. Relax and enjoy it."

 

Back to teenage dating once more - who was going to pay for the tickets? Who was going to pay for the hotel room? Dutch treat? The guy pays? That last part got a little complicated if it was Julie Alice I was dating.

I was quicker on the draw (after all the train hearkened back to the Old West) and got the train tickets, then immediately went in search of the lady's room. Two hours on the train calls for some foresight. Even if they had bathrooms trying to relax enough to pee with the train bouncing and swaying is not my favorite way to spend any time.

When I came out, Jules was standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Hold out your hand, my dear."

"Why?" I asked, suspicious.

"Close your eyes and I'll tell you."

"I'm suspicious," I said suspiciously. But I did it anyway.

"Not that one, the left one."

"It makes a difference?"

"Certainly."

"Oh!" I said as the light dawned. I felt something cool slide over my ring finger.

"You didn't!" I exclaimed.

"I did," he answered.

"No, I mean you didn’t do the one knee thing."

"It's only a Mood Ring. I think the whole knee-thing only counts for a diamond."

"Do you have the little card that comes with it?'

"Of course."

"Then let me see what mood I'm in."

"Obviously suspicious. No need to consult an external reference."

"But you're wrong. I can tell you I'm flattered and pleased."

So I kissed him and took my time doing it.

"I'll treasure it always. The last diamond I got didn't work out so well."

"So what's your second choice for future reference?"

"Emerald. It went well with my hair when it was still red."

"Like your mother had?"

"How did you know that?"

"You told me a while back."

"Must have been just before one of those kisses - no hope of remembering anything much after one of your kisses."

"Do you remember we are supposed to get on the train?"

"Nope. Wasn't there something about a hotel room?"

"After the train."

"Oh yeah, something about patience. It's starting to come back now. Kiss me again and maybe I'll remember the hotel room part."

"You have a one track mind."

"So does the train."

"No, a train has two tracks, otherwise it would be a monorail."

"I've changed my mind. I'm not sure if I want to be alone with someone who has a sense of humor like that."

"I'd be glad to humor you."

"Perhaps with a great deal of effort you can be trained to behave."

"A wasted effort. I did learn how to track things in the woods when I was a Boy Scout."

"We're in the desert, in case you haven't noticed."

"And you are my personal oasis."

"If you're expecting this blushing maiden to swoon at your feet after such crap you're barking up the wrong tree."

"But I do tend to howl at the sight of you."

"There he goes with the bitch inferences again."

"Moi? I seem to recall you were the one who introduced the topic of dog training."

"The subject at present is excursion training, and if you don't get a move on we'll be left waving at the caboose when it leaves without us."

"Then may I escort Madame to her coach?"

"You may, good sir."

 

I have to admit the Grand Canyon Railway was a lot more fun than the last train ride I had. That one was in an open car filled with Cub Scouts that was just far enough behind the antique coal-burning engine that all the smoke and cinders settled on my so-called Oscar de la Renta designer Cub Scout Leader's yellow blouse. Only a clueless male could think a lousy, over-priced thin, cheaply made piece of crap with a designer's name on it could stand up to being overrun by a horde of pre-teen boys intent on getting themselves and everyone near them covered with mud and leaves in the woods.

I ended up with three - count them three! - burn holes in the stinking blouse before the trip was over. Oh, my hair was a tangled rat's nest as well.

Fortunately, today's engine was a diesel and the car was completely enclosed, so I sat comfortably watching the scenery go by. More than comfortably, as Jules had his arm around me as we snuggled together.

The desert has its own peculiar kind of beauty, Sure there's a whole lot of sand out there, but there are all kinds of plants dotting the landscape, wresting a living from the inhospitable terrain. Not only were there plants, but there were natives who lived there, hauling water in great plastic tanks on the back of pickups that had seen better days. I can't imagine living in the desert like that, but I suppose you learn to love the place you grow up.

It had been a long time since I had cuddled with anyone, but snuggling with Jules while we passed through the desert listening to the clicking of the wheels on the rails was most enjoyable. We arrived at the station in the park filled with miscellaneous facts from the guide about the canyon, ready to explore its wonders.

If you believe that, then I have a have some oceanfront property with a view of the canyon I'd be glad to sell you. I'd like to describe the wonderful rustic hotel there, but we didn't spend any more time in the lobby than it took to register. The rooms were pretty nice, too, but we both had other things on our minds.

When the time came, taking off his bra was kind of weird and kind of sexy at the same time. All I'll say is that whoever defined lust as a sin was off the wall crazy. Lust is a whole lot of fun if you have a lusty partner.

The next time you hear some fundamentalist railing against the sin of lust you can tell them that we found a sure-fire cure for the situation. An afternoon in the El Tovar hotel at the Grand Canyon with the right partner will eradicate any feelings of lust quite nicely. If it doesn't work the first time, repeat as needed. Highly effective therapy, I assure you.

There are side effects, however. By the time we left the room the sin of gluttony was much on our minds. The hotel has a very effective cure for that as well. I fear the people who entered the lobby when we had finished dinner would have been amused by the couple with the shit eating grins and very full stomachs sitting there waiting for the bus.

Since there are so many people that want to see the Grand Canyon, they now run buses through the park and don't let you drive, which makes for a lot less congestion. It also makes for a nice way to travel when you're sated several ways from Sunday and couldn't get it together to drive safely.

It didn't take very much prompting to find several 'best places' to watch the sunset over the canyon. More or less at random we picked one where the land stuck out far enough to get a good view of the sun setting over the canyon.

Nor were we alone - there were lots of people waiting for the sunset. No matter how spectacular the scenery around you might be, your mind is going to wander and seek other entertainment while waiting. Thus it was that we found watching a group of youthful idiots who thought approaching the edge and defying gravity was an interesting way to pass the time.

"Tell me, Jules - were you ever so young and stupid as those macho types and their girlfriends?"

"I must have been that young once, otherwise I wouldn't have become old in the grand sweep of time. But seriously, how could you consider I would ever be macho?"

"Delightfully male today, my dear. I apologize for using the M-word about you."

"In any case, the word you're searching for is stupid. Obviously they haven't read the part in the brochures about the several people who manage to kill themselves here every year."

"They don't list things like over-exertion in bed as a major cause of death, I hope?"

"Fortunately, that didn't even make the top ten."

"I'm relieved. I suppose I ought to spend tomorrow with Julie Alice just to be safe."

"That could be arranged."

"Perfect, although Jules doesn't have to disappear any too soon."

"Insatiable women, are you?"

"That could be arranged."

We found a convenient bench and waited for the sun to sink below the horizon. Jules was pleasantly warm beside me, arm around my shoulders, as the sky filled with color. The bench was strategically located behind a tree, giving us a lovely scene. As the colors faded we were reluctant to rise as it was just so sweet to sit there cuddling, but eventually the lights of the bus swung into the parking lot and we had to leave. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

If the day before was perfect, the next day seemed to last for eons - 1,870,000,000 years to be exact.

Time certainly was out of whack. I arose feeling simultaneously like a teenager who just did something her parents would not really approve of and like an old woman who just did something completely out of character that I thoroughly approved of. Damn it, I have never just hopped into bed with a man I just met, not once in my life!

I guess I can't say that any more. I also jumped in the shower with a man I had just met, then proceeded to get dressed with a woman I had just met, and there were only two of us in that room. Oh yes, things were out of whack, indeed!

"You're sure you're up to this, Julie?" he asked, taking a bra out of his suitcase.

"I'm not even sure I'm up to walking across the room after last night."

"It's hard to apologize for something so thoroughly delightful."

"Then don’t! The way I'm feeling, if you were to put on a man's clothes I'd be ripping them off your body after my second cup of coffee gave me the strength to do so. Maybe thinking of you as a woman will bank the fires a little."

"If it helps any, I'm not sure I would be capable of a repeat performance for some time."

"I guess that's one aspect of femininity that can't be duplicated by a crossdresser, eh?"

"Which is one reason I'm a crossdresser and not a transsexual. I do appreciate my male side."

"I think I can agree with that!"

"So the day belongs to the Julies. Want to hook my bra together?"

"If you'll return the favor."

"Of course!"

Helping Jules become Julie was another kind of shared intimacy, a little strange but fascinating. Holding her breast forms in my hand was a truly odd experience, like holding cool jello and feeling it warm up but still stay solid. Once again Julie chose long, loose, colorful clothing that helped disguise her less-than-feminine figure and would keep her warm on this coolish day. Me, I had run out of skirts and wore my usual jeans and a top. Femininity comes in multiple flavors, it seems.

But anyway, back to the 1,870,000,000 years. That's how far the Trail of Time runs. At one meter per million years, it takes about an hour to hike, but more if you stop at the many markers and exhibits along the way.

There are those who strap on a big pack and head over the side of the canyon and hike down about a mile and North about five miles to get to the center of the canyon, but neither of us were quite so ambitious or quite so crazy as to attempt it. The Trail of Time is flat and has places to stop and eat or to use a real bathroom. That's important to this girl these days.

So we strolled hand-in-hand, only getting the occasional raised eyebrow as we walked. As dedicated tourists, we took lots of cell phone photos, and several times friendly people exchanged phones with us so we could all have shots of each couple standing before the magnificent scenery. The sun was bright and the clouds had gone somewhere else for the day, so even if it was a bit chilly it was a beautiful way to spend the day.

Eventually, the hooting of the train whistle announced its imminent departure, so we climbed aboard and settled in to our seats. A different guide entertained us on the way back, even pulling out a guitar and singing a few songs he had written. He was interrupted by the train whistle blowing and the train suddenly losing speed.

The cause was soon apparent - the train was being "robbed." Looking out the window we saw several masked men on horses pulling along side as the "Sheriff" ran through our car. I don't think we were supposed to see the horse trailer partially hidden behind some scrub, but there it was. The guide politely explained that all contributions would be gratefully accepted as the "robbers" passed through the cars. I've had less polite waiters asking for a tip, so we dropped a couple of bucks in his sack.

Looks like Julie wasn't the only one in disguise on the train.

 

When we arrived back at my RV, Georgie (remember Georgie, my cat?) greeted us enthusiastically, confirming my already high opinion of Julie. If your cat likes your lover, you've really found something special.

"You going to spend the night here?" I asked.

"Will Georgie let me?"

"She has her own bed - not that she uses it much."

"I have my own bed, too, but I don't feel much like using it tonight. Of course I'll stay."

"How long?"

"How long am I welcome?"

"As long as you're comfortable. Where were you heading next?"

"I had some thoughts about Flagstaff."

"Good thoughts, I hope?"

"If you're there, too."

"You'd get to meet my grandchildren."

"Which me would that be?"

"An interesting question. I suppose sharing a bed with me as Jules wouldn't shock the children as much as sharing a bed with Julie. But then, my sharing a bed with anyone would probably come as a shock to them, anyway."

Well, let's get there and we can decide then."

"Just like we need to decide how long this is going to last."

"Love at first sight?"

"Actually, it was lust at first sight, but there's some affection creeping in around the edges."

"So there is. Let's just let it develop and not try to force it."

"You're a wise woman, Julie."

"So are you, Julie."

"We're going to confuse a lot of people with the same name as we travel."

"Who cares, I think we might just have something very nice starting here."

"And we can keep asking 'your place or mine and not have to worry about it."

"What? Me worry?"