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Royal Sonesta Hotel, New Orleans…

Joeie sat on top of the bed, her face almost a mask of shame. A moment later she had removed her gown and had taken refuge in the very large bed covered with not one but two soft, lustrous duvets.

"I'm ready," Johnny said as he practically strode from the bathroom of the suite.

“I’m afraid,” Joeie replied nervously.

“Shhh... Joeie... It’s really okay. Don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry.”

Don’t be...please?” Johnny stood by the bed and tossed his jacket aside.

“You…you’re very handsome.”

“That I am, but not nearly as attractive as you.” Joeie shook her head no,

“I’m afraid.”

“I know. That's why I let you rest... I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I didn’t think the wine would go to my head like that.”

“Not just the wine, sweetie.” Joeie nodded and looked over to her clutch sitting on the dresser.

“I…I know…. I’m afraid.”

“Have you ever hurt me?”

“Don’t you mean have you ever hurt me?”

“No. You have never hurt me. You’ve always been sweet with me. I can do nothing but return the favor. I am here for you. Nor how I think you are, but how you say you are.”

“You …really don’t mind?”

“This is a once in a lifetime moment for us. I would never hurt you.”

‘Only once?”

“A first of new beginnings. Only the first of many moments…”

“I’m afraid.”

“Look under the blanket.”

“Johnny…there’s nothing there.”

“Silly…It’s there… just a bit covered up.”

“I’m afraid.”

“That we might get pregnant? Well, there is that possibility.”

“But how?”

“Touch yourself.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Seriously…touch yourself.”

“Oh…there it is,” Joeie was almost hysterical until Johnny's voice soothed her soul once again.

“And here I am.”

“You … where are…?”

“They’re hiding. Just for tonight. Maybe later?”

“I’m still afraid.”

“Don’t be, Cheri. I’m here… just underneath this all. You’re there…just underneath all that." Johnny used his hand in a broad gesture in display of Joeie's body.

“You’re... more handsome than I ever imagined.”

“And you are simply gorgeous.”

“You…you’ll…” Joeie turned away, almost ashamed,

“I love you, Cheri.”

Johnny pulled off most of his clothing. Strong and manly for the moment, he climbed into bed.

“Here…let me help.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s as close as we can get, and I promise it will be okay.” Johnny pulled down his briefs and settled onto his wife’s growing sex.

“There you are,” Johnny said to her as he fondled Joeie’s new breasts.

“And if a baby comes?”

“By then we can both play nursemaid. You’d like that?”

“I…I”

“Shhhh…let it happen, sweetie,” Johnny said as he kissed her. Things heated up, to use an old expression, and Joeie began to weep even as the two practically savaged each other.

“Oh, sweetie…” Johnny said as his bride erupted inside him.

“I…” Joeie gasped as her back arched.

“J...Johnny…”

“You can be anyone you want to be, honey!” Johnny almost screamed his own contentment.

“And no… Nothing like those horrid stories. Just me and you.”

“I...I'mmm…. “she started to bawl.

“I don’t know why…” she gasped.

“Because me being who I am is scary. You being who you are is frightening as fuck if we don't get past what everybody else expects.”

“I…I don’t like….real…”

“Men? Of course not. Neither do I. It’s okay to be you…all of you…”

“And I don’t…” she stammered between sobs.

“Never. Just you and me being you and me… or maybe being each other on occasion.

“I….I’m sorry, Johnny,” she sobbed.

“Why, sweetie. I’m not. You like this…” Johnny reached down and pulled off his binder and tossed it on the divan at the foot of the bed, releasing his breasts.

“Ca…can I…?”

“Of course….honey…they’re yours to do with whatever you want…” Johnny …Jeanne Marie DuMont leaned forward and fed her left nipple into her bride’s eager mouth, evoking a very contented coo.

“I’m sorry you have…tomorrow...” Johnny pointed to the binder on the divan and frowned.

“I…” Joeie…Joseph Andrew Lavigne began to cry.

Tomorrow, mostly in the sight of all of their small but ignorant family and well-meaning friends, Johnny would wear the gown and her bride GROOM would wear the binder and tux.

“I must be the worst husband ever,’ Joey Lavigne said. Johnny reached underneath the blanket and pulled Le Petite Josephine from her hiding place and spoke with as much authority as a sometimes Female to Male spouse needs to exercise in order to allay his mate’s fears.

“Never. You make me very, very happy,” Johnny said before paying closer attention to the précieux paquet in his hand.

The next morning…

“You do look rather handsome,” Johnny said as he admired Joey, all smart in the tux Johnny had worn the previous evening. Joey began to pout until Johnny smiled.

“But mostly like that woman who models for men's magazines. Elliot whatshername? And tonight? You can wear my peignoir and be my bride all over again.

“What will we do...?”

“My parents always wanted a girl, and they sure as hell will be thrilled when I deliver their first grandchild, so who cares?”

“What will…”

“Until then? We go on that Sabbatical you’ve been meaning to take. Your church can get along without the Rev. Levigne for a while...When things get closer to the due date, we come home and come out to your family as Wife and other Wife. Who knows? Maybe Nawleans is ready for the first church of Role Reversal? And to make it interesting, I’ll be the one wearing a jacket and tie just to mess with everyone’s heads.

“Well…You do look better in a suit than I do.”

“Maybe, but you do look bitchin’ in that Pink Alexander McQueen number we got last month.” Joey smiled at his reflection in the mirror by the door, almost imagining what soft and sweet memories would bring to them both that evening.

“Je t'aime, mon mari non conventionnel.” Joie said.

“Je t'aime, ma mariée non conventionnelle,” Johnny replied.

Les Yeux de L'Amour
The Look of Love
from the Motion Picture
Casino Royale
Words and Music by
Hal David & Burt Bacharach
French version performed by
Mireille Mathieu