"What's the matter?" She asked. "Here. Take it. It won't bite you." Strange words, indeed, from the woman who refused to even consider wearing the beautiful nightgown I'd given her a day earlier.

Finally, I shrugged and took the bra from my wife, uncertain as to what I should do with it.

I needn't have worried, though. Opie untied the satin ribbon that traveled below my non-existent bust line and then helped me out of the robe, placing it on a kitchen chair. Then, she gathered all of the material of my nightgown up to my shoulders and guided the gathered material carefully over my hair, taking care to avoid the headband.

As I stood there in just the peach-colored, rose-shaped-lace panties with my hair done so very differently than ever before, I felt very exposed. Not nearly as exposed as I felt when Opie slid the bra straps slowly up my arms, then moved behind me to fasten the hooks and eyes in the back. She moved slowly and gently, obviously enjoying this odd little bit of foreplay we'd somehow created.

When the bra was fastened, she spent a great deal of time adjusting the cups and band, and, in fact, manipulating the just slightly flabby skin on my chest, until she was satisfied that everything was just right.

"Yes," she whispered huskily. Then she carefully replaced the silk nightgown and then the chiffon robe, delicately tying the ribbon back in place, this time just below my now very realistic looking bust line. "Very nice."

"Really?" I asked. "It doesn't look that much different to me."

She walked me to the lavatory and I looked into the mirror. I looked pretty much the same, except there was the distinct impression that I did, in fact, have a small, but noticeable amount of cleavage. The enhancing bra had gathered my skin and given me breasts.

Before I could say anything, Opie was kissing my neck and running her hands over my mock breasts. "I like them. I like them a lot." She said in a that same husky whisper.

I gratefully accepted the touching and tried to continue to breath. Something about the way that the bra enhanced my somewhat flat chest seemed to increase the sensitivity - or maybe it was just the excitement of having a new feature suddenly appear on my chest, but whatever the reason, I just wanted to get more and more and more attention from my wife.

I felt her hands caressing my bottom through the material and the chiffon-against-silk-against-silk-against skin was almost more than I could stand. When her hand began to caress my penis through all of that exciting soft-smoothness, I nearly exploded right there.

"Let's go upstairs," she muttered through her guttural moans.

"Opie, we can't," I said, with a great deal of disappointment. "The chicken is in, already."

"Just take it out."

"I can't," I pulled away from her and took a deep breath to get a handle on myself. "Go... ummm... go take a shower or something." I breathed a few more times. "I'll... I'll get dinner ready and then we can... well... just go shower, Ope." I would have loved to have just run upstairs and let our passion take us, but I knew that the chicken would burn and even after having some great sex, I'd still have to make dinner for us. Call me a killjoy, but that's what went through my mind.

Opie stepped back, smirked and shook her head. "Oh, my God. You're acting just like a woman." Before I could respond, she'd turned to hustle up the stairs, laughing all the way.

Uncertain as to how I should take that remark, I turned back towards the kitchen and my supper preparations and that was when I noticed it - the way my nightgown felt, now. With the addition of breasts, even these modest, probably just an A-Cup breasts, my clothes hung very differently. They touched my skin differently. They tickled and touched and caressed in all new and even more interesting ways.

As I prepared my vegetables for the steamer, I noticed that some of my chopping was splashing the water from within the vegetables. Now, seeing as I'd been the 'chief, cook and bottle washer' in our house since our relationship began, I'd chopped veggies a million times, and a million times I'd noticed how the vegetables released their water, but getting a little water onto a polo shirt or dress shirt or a sweater never concerned a second of my time before. Suddenly, the idea of messing up this beautiful nightie, though, bothered me a whole lot. So, I went in search of an apron - an item neither of us had ever considered purchasing.

What I did find, though, was a beach-towel. I wrapped it around me, just under my arm pits, and tucked it into itself to hold it tightly in place, then went back to work.

Then, feeling inspired for some reason, I grabbed some flour and a few other ingredients and quickly made some batter for simple dropbiscuits, placing them into a cast iron fry pan and getting that into the oven in just enough time to have them back in time for dinner.

I rinsed my prep tools and put them in the washer, set the table, poured a couple of glasses of white wine and got everything ready.

With five minutes to go until the timer went off, I called upstairs. "Five minute warning!"

"Yes, dear," she called back, parroting a beleaguered husband in an old sitcom.

I was just putting the bowl of vegetables on the table when I heard Opie speaking as she entered the kitchen. "Well, it looks like I need to get my little woman a pretty apron."

"Very funny," I joked back. I turned and was surprised that, instead of wearing her usual shorts and tee shirt for the evening, Opie was wearing a polo shirt I'd never seen and I thought was a man's cut, along with a pair of loose fitting jeans. "I just wanted to protect the delicate material. You'll see when you're wearing silk next week."

I also noticed that, instead of combing her hair in the typical spiky fashion, she'd combed it from the left to the right - again, a fairly masculine choice. I would have asked about it, but Opie was very sensitive about questions like that.

"If you make it that far," she smiled and kissed the side of my head as she moved to take her seat. "Ohh, lots of hairspray," she said. "You can tell that Emma did your hair. She always overuses her hairspray." Then she smiled and said, "but it does look awfully nice. Thank you for that." Then, looking the table, she added, "And thank you for this! It looks almost as good as you - and you both look good enough to eat."

So much praise! I was blushing and I actually had goose bumps!

I sat and prepared to eat, but heard Opie chuckle. "Aren't you going to take that towel off?"

I looked down at the terrycloth and shrugged. "I don't want anything to get on the nightgown."

Opie just laughed and shook her head at me.

After dinner, I cleaned up and Opie took out the trash, as was our routine. Then we settled in to watch a little TV, etc, before going to bed. I had always encamped on the couch in the evening, while Opie typically sat in a stuffed chair with an ottoman on which to rest her feet. I took off my towel-wrap and put it where I'd remember to drop it in the laundry, then headed out of the kitchen, but when I reached the living room, she had taken up residence on the couch and was answering some emails on her iPad.

"Oh," I muttered, a bit surprised, and headed for the big chair.

"No, no," she smiled and patted the seat beside her, "come sit with me."

"Oh... ok." I sat at the other end of the couch and picked up a remote to turn on the last few minutes of the show that preceded my favorite evening game show, Jeopardy.

The show came on and I put the remote down and grabbed my own iPad, to do a crossword puzzles, but Opie tapped her lap. "Come on. Lay down with your head here."

That was unusual, but really nice, too. So, I laid down and enjoyed the attention. Once she'd finished her emails, Opie patted my hair and we both played along with the game show. When that was done, she picked a rerun of an old TV show that we both liked to watch. We watched two episodes and, as the end of the second one approached, I noticed that Opie's hands were no longer patting my hair, but rather were rubbing my side, and my bottom and my... breasts. In fact, she was spending a lot of time caressing my breasts, and... I REALLY liked it. I mean, it REALLY excited me.

Within moments, we were kissing and it was obvious where we were headed. Pretty soon there were tongues involved and... well... I won't go into the sordid details, but suffice it to say that we were upstairs in our bed pretty darned quickly and let me tell you - when you're on the bottom with your legs spread, your knees bent and your wife is pounding your penis into her while her knees are nearly touching... well, it changes you. Believe me, it does. How? Well, you don't feel like a man at all, you don't feel as if you have any control over the situation whatsoever, and you realize that your wife, who is decidedly bigger than you and most likely stronger than you, isn't seeing you as a man, either.

Well, I didn't look much like a man anyway, but you get what I mean, right?

So we went at it like newlywed rabbits again that night and by the time that Opie was finished with me - well, that's how it felt - I was exhausted and ready to fall asleep. Before I could, though, Opie sent me to the lavatory to brush the hairspray out of my hair - a hundred strokes on each side, she said. I'd did as I was told and, to be perfectly honest, I kind of loved the way my hair looked after the brushing. I'd always liked my fine, light brown hair, but between the attention I'd given it in the last two days and the brushing that Emma had given me that day, well, it was really looking a lot nicer.

When I returned to the bedroom, Opie was on the phone, and since it was nearly midnight, I knew she was talking to Emma.

"No, I loved how he looked, Em. You did a great job. Yeah, I agree, cleaning up those split ends would be nice." She listened for a moment and looked at me while she thought. "Hmm. Yes, I think he would, wouldn't he? I wish I could send you a picture of how pretty he looks right now. No, I can't, he'd have a heart attack!"

I would have, too.

"Great, thanks, Em. I'll tell him. Yup. Love you, too. See you in the morning." Then she dropped her phone onto the charger and smiled at me.

A bit nervous, I walked, "Why are you going to see Emma in the morning?"

"Oh," she said, innocently, "she mentioned that you should have your split ends trimmed?"

"You want Emma to cut my hair?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because ever since she started taking hair dressing classes in high school, I have spent a good deal of my time avoiding having Emma cut my hair. I remember some of the crazy cuts she gave you and Josie and all your friends back then. I don't want a Flock of Seagulls haircut."

Opie laughed at that. "She's not giving you a haircut, Kim. She's just trimming the split ends. Probably not more than just a half an inch along the ends. Look, honey, look in the mirror and see how nice your hair is looking. Trimming the split ends would just make it that much nicer."

I checked my hair in the bureau mirror once more and sighed. "Ok. If you say so."

"That my girl," she teased, causing me to smirk at her as I climbed into bed and cuddle in next to her.

For a moment I just laid there, but then I asked, "Opie... you're not telling Emma everything about what we're doing - the role playing, I mean - are you?"

"Of course not, Kim," she scoffed. "Emma called to see if I liked your look when I got home. We just talked about your hair and... well, of course she knows about the nightgown, but that's all. Everything else is between you and me."

I believed her, but I was still a little concerned. I didn't think this was the right tome to discuss it though. So, I changed the subject. "Should I make something for Emma for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Just coffee," said as she spooned in behind me. "I'll get up a few minutes early and run down to that bakery by the grocery store and grab some breakfast sandwiches for all of us. Besides, Emma said that you should wash your hair before she comes. It'll be easier to work with."

"Ok," I whispered, just a bit apprehensive, but too tired and too in love to worry too much.

I was sound asleep when I heard Opie's voice. "Kimmy. Kimmy, honey. Kimmy, wake up."

'Kimmy?' That was odd. My mom used to call me 'Kimmy' when I was very little, but my dad, who, as I mentioned, was also named 'Kimberly,' HATED it when she did. So, with the exception of Emma's intentionally annoying use of it, no one called me 'Kimmy.'

"Honey," Opie said, as my eyes opened, "you need to get up and shower. Emma will be here soon."

I blinked to clear my vision. "You're already dressed? What time is it?"

"Quarter past six," she said as she turned to my dresser and began doing something that I could not see.

"Quarter past... I don't get up until seven."

"I know," Opie laughed as she began laying items on her side of the bed, "but Emma's going to trim your hair and show you how to care for it. Hurry, now. I need to run down to the bakery. I'll be back by the time you come down stairs. Look, I took out a polo shirt for you to wear, and I have a pair of clean panties for you, too." She held up a pair the peach colored panties she'd purchased for me the previous day.

"Panties? Opie, I don't wear panties under my work clothes."

"Because you never HAD panties to wear under your work clothes. Now you do and I think it would be sexy if you wore them all day."

I didn't say 'no' right away, because, to be honest, it was an exciting prospect, but I didn't say 'yes' either.

"Come on, Kimmy," she said, leaning down to lay a soft kiss on my lips. "I promise that I'll make it worth your while."

Ok, that did it. I mean, A) I kind of wanted to continue to explore the soft, silk feeling of panties and B) it might make Opie even randier than she'd been for the past few nights. That's a win-win scenario, right?

"Ok," I said in a quiet voice.

Opie just smiled, and I'm pretty sure that part of that smile was just because she'd won a little victory over me. "Thank you, baby," she smiled. Baby, incidentally, was as unusual a word for Opie to use as 'Kimmy.' "Now, go shower and I'll see you downstairs. Oh, use the conditioner I left on the vanity and when your done in the shower, don't dry your hair. Just wrap it in a towel - like a turban, you know? Emma will take care of the rest."

"Alright," I called from the bed as I heard Opie hurrying down the stairs.

I showered, shampooed, followed the directions on the conditioner bottle and conditioned my hair - a longer job than I expected - and I was out of the shower in twenty minutes. The whole 'turban' thing baffled me, but, thank God for YouTube! I watched a tutorial on my phone and soon had my hair encased in a bath towel.

As I pulled on my new panties, followed by my Jean shorts and the yellow polo shirt that Opie had put out for me, I could hear Opie and Emma talking in the kitchen, so I hurried to join them. Even as I was hurrying, though, I noticed a couple of things - the first was that my panties were much, much, much more comfortable than a normal pair of tighty-whities and unbelievably softer than my Jean shorts. The second was that the polo shirt that I was wearing was much softer than the polos I usually wore. I didn't really have time to think, though, so I just made my way to the kitchen.

Emma smiled, amused, as I entered. "Well, don't you look cute."

"Haha," I smirked. "This is what Opie told me to do so my hair would stay wet for you."

She took a bite from the breakfast sandwich she was eating and set the rest of the sandwich aside. She tapped the backed of a chair that was already prepared for me near the counter. "Come sit. Let's get you taken care of."

As I sat, I noticed that, on the counter, Emma had laid out a very professional array of hairdressing tools, including an expensive set of scissors, several different brushes, some hair clips, a professional looking blow dryer and a curling iron. In fact, I smelt the curling iron before I even saw it. It was an unusual smell to me. As I said, my mom was gone when I was young and Opie certainly never had use for such a tool, so the faint smell of old, singed hair definitely caught my attention.

Opie sat at the table and watched as her older sister used the towel I'd worn as a turban down stairs to pat my hair and get the excess water out of it. Then she used a regular brush to straighten my messed up hair, followed by a wide toothed comb to organize it into straight strands, and finally, she used a fine toothed comb to insure that everything was well separated and no snarls were hiding in my mane. How did I know that this was what she was doing? She explained every step as she worked so that I could learn how to do it as well.

Beyond my lessons in hair care, very little was said to me, as Opie and Emma chatted about friends and work, etc. Occasionally, I would be asked an opinion about the actions of a friend I knew, or something along those lines, but for the most part, if I was included in the conversation at all, it was because the women were talking about me, not to me.

Then, Emma reached for a scissor and combed out a section of hair. I must have held my breath, or something, because she laughed and said, "Relax, Kimmy." She held up the two or three inch section of hair that she held between her fingers and explained. "See how your hair is split at the ends? All I'm going to do is cut off those splits. Your hair will be and look much healthier."

"Ok," I said as she made the first snip and little flecks of hair fell onto the towel that had previously acted as my turban, but now acted as my cape.

"See? That didn't hurt, now did it?"

She continued cutting away her little trimmings and chatting with Opie. At one point she called Opie over and asked if she though it would look better if the back of my hair were cut 'this way' or 'this way?' I didn't know what the options were, but I know that Opie chose the second 'this way.'

Then, Emma used some clips to section off my hair and began to use the curling iron, holding it vertically and wrapping my hair around it."

"What are you doing that for?" I asked, concerned and curious.

"I will make these curls and then brush them out while also using the blow dryer. You'll love the volume it gives you," she explained.

"Is this really something that men do?" I asked, very aware that I was indeed wearing silk and lace panties.

"Men with long hair and a desire to add fullness to it do," she shrugged. "Honestly, Kimmy, most of the long haired men I know go to hairdressers instead of barbers, so this is how their hair is maintained."

I looked at Opie. "Do like it?"

"I'm fascinated," she chuckled. "Just the little bit of trimming and shaping has already made your hair a lot prettier. It's going to look great with your nightie."

"Yeah, but what about the rest of the day?" I asked.

"What about it?" Opie shrugged. "You've hardly been out of the house since the pandemic hit. I mean, you were in our backyard for our wedding and I had to drag you to Josie's - and even then, you stayed away from everyone except for my sisters and me. Other than that, I can't remember you leaving the house."

It was true that I had become a a bit of a germaphobe since the outbreak and that kind of made me a bit more agoraphobic than I'd been before, too, but I had been out plenty times. Not often, but plenty. "I've been to the grocery store and the pharmacy lots times and I went to The Mill with your sisters the other day." I defended myself.

"Do you plan to go out today?" My wife asked as she took a sip of her coffee.

"No," I admitted.

"Then let Emma work her magic and see how it comes out. If we like it, great. If we don't, then you still are getting all of those split ends cut away and you can go back to flat hair tomorrow."

"Ok." I was actually pretty excited at the prospect of having my hair done nicely, but I still needed to pretend that I was concerned about my maleness being impinged upon.

Emma continued to work, but suddenly asked a question. "Did you ever consider bangs?"

"Bangs?" I had not, of course and wasn't sure it was a great idea, now.

"Yeah. Lot's of men wear bangs," Emma said, matter of factly.

"Like who?" I asked.

"Ashton Kutcher, Justin Bieber..." Opie suggested.

"Owen Wilson, Ed Sheeran..." Emma added.

"Zac Efron..." Opie continued, but I interrupted her.

"Ok, ok, I get it, but what if you give me bangs and I don't like them?"

Emma shrugged, looking at my face. "I think you might like them, but if you don't, the you can comb them over and use a little hair spray to hold them there for a few weeks until they grow out enough to stay on their own."

I was still pondering the option, but Opie said, "I think you should give it a try."

"Ok," I sighed. "I'll give it a try."

"Great," Emma smiled and combed a section of my hair in front of my eyes. I looked out through the strands of hair and felt my heart race just a little as her scissors cut them away. "I'll leave them a little long. That way, if you don't like them, they'll grow out quickly."

I glanced down at the long pieces of hair in my lap and then looked at Opie, awaiting her approval.

"Oh, I like that," she smiled. "I can't wait to see the final results," She continued as she stood, "but I need to get going." She bent and kissed my cheek. "Get nice and pretty for me, Kimmy," she whispered. Then she stood tall and said to Emma, "Make sure my little lady looks pretty for me."

After she'd left the kitchen, Emma moved in front of me and folded her arms, a big smile on her face. "Well, well... so, what's going on here? It seems like this game is a little more elaborate than I suspected. It sounds like Opie is looking for something a little more feminine than just a cute hair cut."

To say I was embarrassed would be a gross understatement. I know I was blushing. "She's just trying to scare me so I won't wear the nightgown to bed for a week. Then, she wins and she never has to wear something like this herself."

"Maybe," Emma shrugged, "or maaaaaaybeeeee, she's really turned on at the prospect of coming home to a pretty little wife. Have you ever considered that?"

Of course, I had, and the idea was intriguing to me on a lot of levels. Was Opie really a lesbian? Did she really not see me as a man? As a husband? I didn't know, but I also just found the whole idea kind of exciting. "She was just putting on a show for you."

"Maybe... or... maybe she's using her teasing to tell us what she really wants. Let's take a look at your relationship, shall we? Physically, who's bigger and stronger? You or Opie?"

"Opie."

"Who makes more money? You or Opie?"

"Opie, but I do fine, too..."

"'Opie' is the answer. Who does the cooking? You or Opie?"

"Me, but..."

"The cleaning?"

"Me, but, again..."

"Who makes decisions about things like vacations, movies, activities? You or Opie?"

"Usually... Opie," was the only answer. I began to see what Emma was getting at.

"Final question: Who's been wearing the nightgown for the last couple of nights?"

I just looked down at the silk and lace and pondered what Emma was saying.

She pulled a chair opposite me and smiled. "I think Opie may have finally realized that the reason she never wanted to wear silk and lace is because she's the husband in this relationship and husbands don't do that. Wives do. Wives cook and clean and let their husbands make the big decisions. Wives go out of their way to look pretty for their husbands - just like you did yesterday. I know I kind of got you into this, Kimmy, and I apologize, but I think it's time to admit that, even though I was wrong, something did happen here because a beautiful, sexy piece of lingerie was introduced into your lives. Honestly, I think it's up to you to take this to the next level. I really do."

There wasn't a lot I could say. Emma was a hundred percent right about the way Opie was acting. The problem was, while I hesitated, she asked me a question I really didn't want her to ask.

"How do you feel about all of this?"

I sighed and, for some reason, I felt my eyes watering up. "I don't know, right now. Are you saying that Opie doesn't see me as a man anymore?"

"No, Kimmy. What I mean saying is that she sees you as the person she loves, but she sees you as her wife. That's all."

I just nodded. "Maybe. What do you think I should do?"

She raised her eyebrows and took a deep breath. "Well... I guess you have two choices. Either you can finish the week out without going any further than this, or... you could let me take you a few steps further into wife-hood and see what Opie has to say. If she doesn't like it - we step it back tomorrow."

"What if she does like it?" I asked.

"Then we step it up, tomorrow." She smiled.

"I don't know," I hemmed and hawed.

"Ok. I'm not going to force anything onto you, but I think this is what she wants." Emma went back to working on my hair.

I sat there, smelling the smells that were still so new to me - hairspray, hair gel, the smell of the blow dryer and curling iron and I thought about what Emma had said and I quickly came to the realization that it probably was something that Opie wanted to at least play around with, anyway - but it was definitely something I wanted to try. I mean, come on - it seemed like some fun, right?

"Emma," I asked as casually as possibly, "what are we talking about doing here? Nothing permanent, right? Like, I could go back to being myself pretty quickly, right?"

She smiled at me, seeming a little more excited than I wanted her to be. "One shower and it's all gone."

I nodded. "Ok, then. Let's try it. Go ahead and make me Opie's perfect housewife."

"You got it," she laughed as she grabbed a large, round brush and went to work furiously on my still damp hair, spritzing it with water when needed.

When she'd finished with my hair, she grabbed a small tool that looked a bit like one of those old fashioned microphones that harmonica players use, only it was only a little longer than her forefinger.

"Put your head back," she instructed.

"What's that?" I asked, both curious and a but scared.

"It's an eyebrow razor," she explained. "Don't worry - I'm not giving you pencil thin brows or anything. I'm just going to clean them up a bit. Get rid of those little hairs between the brows and make them look neat and clean. Now, before you complain, most Japanese actors I've ever seen groom their eyebrows, so it's kind of expected for someone of Asian decent to have symmetrical brows. It won't look weird at all."

I believed her, but I was still nervous that she might go too far.

In a few minutes, she put that tool down and said, "l have to run out to car. Be right back."

"Ok, but remember, I have to log on at nine." I reminder her.

"No problem," she assured me. "We still have forty five minutes."

When she came back in, she was carrying her gym bag and a garment bag.

"What's all that for?" I asked.

"Well, the gym bag is because that's where my makeup is and if you want to look pretty, then makeup is part of it. I'll explain the garment bag after the makeup is done."

She worked for about fifteen minutes on my makeup and finally smiled broadly and said, "Oh, yeah. You're going to like this when you see it. Those Asian eyes are just popping, now."

"Can I look in a mirror, then?" I was genuinely curious.

"Not till it's all done." She closed her makeup kit and grabbed the garment bag. "Alright, now, hear me out. We're about the same size, I think. This is what I was going to put on after my workout and wear to work, but I can always swing back home and get something else. It is a dress, but it's not fancy. It's just a tee shirt dress and a new set of tights. I think you'll look nice in it. Wanna try it?"

I took a deep, steadying breath and nodded.

"Ok," she pulled a dark green dress, and it really did look just like a loose fitting tee shirt, out of the bag, had me stand up and held it up to me. "It'll work," she smiled. It'd hang nicer if you had a padded bra under it, of course."

"Oh, I have one up..." I stopped, realizing that this was probably something I should have kept to myself.

"You have one? Well, you girly little thing!" She teased.

I blushed. "Opie brought home ond yesterday to wear under the nightgown.

She touched my chest. "But you're not wearing it now."

I shook my head. "It's upstairs on top of my bureau."

"You just stay here, and don't look at yourself, yet," she grinned as she headed for the stairs, but she stopped. "At the risk of sounding too personal... did she buy you panties, too?"

I sighed as I nodded.

"Oh, this is incredible," Emma laughed. "And... are you wearing panties, now, or do I need to get panties for you, too?"

I shook my head. "I don't need any."

"Oh, God!" She chuckled as she ran up the stairs.

I really wanted to look in a mirror, but I refrained. Emma was back in less than a minute or so, anyway. She had me stand and helped me maneuver my polo shirt past my head so as not to upset all work she'd done. Then she had me step out of my pants as well.

"Wow," she teased, "those are nicer than any panties I own! I guess I need to find a lover who likes me in pretty little wisps of lace the way that Opie likes you."

She held the bra up and I ran my arms through the bra straps. Emma did the clasps in the back, then looked at me in just the bra and panties. "I don't know if this is what you want to hear or not, but except for your hips being a little small, and a bulge that you really should tuck away, you look like a very pretty girl."

I snickered. "Thanks, I guess. I think the bra points out that my chest is a little flabby."

"Yeah, but that little extra skin is kinda working for you right now. Your butt looks pretty nice in those panties and the bra is pushing up your pecs really nicely. I'm actually a little jealous."

I checked the clock and pointed out that I only had about twenty minutes left before I started work. I was instructed to sit back down and I received a tutorial on how to put on tights without ripping them or causing them to run or ladder. It took a minute or two, but I got them on, having to stand to pull them all the way up.

The tights were a really pretty cranberry color and I was immediately amazed at the way that they softly hugged my legs and offered them some rather impressive shaping.

"If tights, or stocking, or pantyhose become something you wear all the time, you should shave your legs," Emma said, as she prepped the dress for me.

I didn't respond because the dress was waiting for me. For some reason, I honestly did not realize how big a deal it would be for me to actually put this simple, dark green dress on, but the minute I did, I knew that I was a different person. The short sleeves hung loosely about my arms, not really touching them. The wide, scooped neck exposed more of my chest than I expected, but showed no cleavage. It hung from shoulders and then from my breasts, keeping the very soft material inches from my skin. The hem was at least six inches above my knees, but didn't come close to touching my bottom or legs at all. The result of which was, whenever I moved, even just a little bit, it swayed and ticked me in different places.

The sensations were intoxicating and I LOVED the way that it all felt.

"Here," Emma said as she ran a neckless around my throat. It wasn't anything fancy. Just a gold colored chain the went around my neck and in the front had two rows of small, square red stones, four on the top row and six on the bottom. "Just a little bling to dress up a casual dress," she smiled.

She looked at me and nodded, then asked, "What size shoes do you wear?"

"Six," I said, automatically.

"Perfect!" She beamed as she pulled a pair of beige, suede, ankle high boots with chunky two inch heels out of her gym bag. "You'll love these. They're really comfortable. If you like them, I can tell you where I got them. I've never bought a pair of shoes from that store that I didn't love."

I stared at the first shoe she'd given me. "I don't know, Emma. I've never worn any kind of heel before and these look pretty high."

"Are you kidding!?" She laughed. "They're only a couple of inches high and a big heel like that is really easy to wear. Just put them, on. We've only got ten minutes and I want you to see yourself before I leave."

I sat and slid my feet into the boots and was shocked by how comfortable they actually were.

When they were both on, she grabbed my hand, pulled me to my feet and ran me up to our bedroom and towards the the tall mirror on Opie's closet door, but she stopped me before I could see myself. Then, she took on a very theatrical manner and announced in a loud voice, "Ladies and Gentlemen! I present to you my sister's beautiful wife... Kimmy!" And she pushed me in front of the mirror.

But I didn't respond with the joy Emma expected.

I couldn't respond at all at first. At first, I was trying to figure out who was in the mirror. Certainly, it wasn't me. I was a small guy with slightly Asian features, but the reflection looking back at me was a very Asian looking woman with pale, soft skin, rich, full hair wearing a lovely dress, tights and absolutely precious boots.

"You don't like it?" Emma asked, a little deflated.

"I... I... I..." my brain was stuck on that syllable. "I... I don't really look like that, do I? I mean... that girl is... she's like, fully Japanese and she's... she's really pretty."

That made Emma smile. "So you like it, then?"

"I... I... I..." I continued to stutter. "I think I love it, but... I can't believe I look like that."

Emma glanced at the clock on my bed stand and said, "Oh, crap. You need to get downstairs and sign in. It's eight fifty nine!"

"Oh, shoot!" I said, as I hurried back down the stairs as quickly as I could in the low heels and signed in exactly on time, which is about three minutes later than usual for me.

"Well, look at you! Running around in heels with no problem at all!" Emma teased. "One last thing, though," she said before giving me a few pointers about sitting without wrinkling the dress before she went out to the kitchen to gather her things.

I was quite involved in work when she came back into the living-room and smiled. "You look kind of beautiful, Kimmy," she smiled and I knew that there was no teasing going on.

"Thanks, Em," I smiled. "I'll let you know what Opie thinks."

She nodded. "Actually, I'm coming by before Penelope comes home. I want to check your makeup. I'm going to pick up a tube of lipstick for you, too. I don't love sharing that with you." Then she shocked me by hugging me and kissing my cheek, a gesture that I returned
automatically. She stood back up and shook her head. "Ah, she is going to LOVE you! I just know it!" And she left.

It was an odd day, let me tell you. My breasts may have been small, but they were still new to me and I was aware of them every time I moved. Also, my tights remained just as exciting hours later as they'd felt when I'd first pulled them on.

At lunch time, I went back upstairs and looked at myself. I'd never really looked great in a suit - adequate, but not great. They're really cut for broader men. I always thought that I looked ok in a shirt and tie and slacks, or even in a casual shirt and jeans, but now... after Emma was done with me, I looked really nice. I thought I was actually pretty, if that was possible. I loved my hair - the new bangs, the fullness, the waviness. All of it. I was actually very proud of it.

Then there was my face - or rather - the face of the girl in the mirror. She bore a slight resemblance to me, as if she were my sister or a close cousin, but she wasn't me. The neat eyebrows and bright red lips belonged to someone else entirely. Then, there were my eyes. Now, understand, I had always had almond shaped eyes, they were a gift from my mom, and I kind of liked them. They made me look... exotic, I guess. When you're not the biggest, or most talented, or smartest kid in high school, it's nice to have something that distinguishes you from everyone else and my Asian features did that for me.

Here's the thing, though -

I didn't just look exotic. I looked Asian - in all the best ways. Think of any beautiful Asian woman you've ever seen. The way her soft cheeks are set off by her elegant, almond shaped eyes. Well, that was me, now! I could not believe that Emma had made me look like this!

I absolutely loved everything about how I looked! I spun and felt my dress spin around me! I spoke in a lighter, more feminine voice! I giggled and I smiled and I pretended that I was a girl! That I'd always been a girl!

And I loved every second of it!

Before I knew it, I needed to get back to my computer, so I headed back down the stairs and, just as I entered the living room, the front door opened and I came face to face with Opie's sister Josie.

"Oh... Hi," I said, stopping dead in my tracks.

"Hi," Josie smiled, but she looked a bit flustered. "I'm sorry," she went on, "I'm Josie. I'm Kim's sister in law. Are you Kim's sister?"

Now, it was my turn to be flustered. "Sister? Kim's sister?" I was a bit surprised that Emma hadn't told her. "Umm... Yes. Yes, I'm Kim's sister."

"Oh, I didn't even know he had a sister!" She stepped over to me and extended her hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"My name?" I thought and went blank, so I just used my mother's name. "I'm... Yuki."

We shook hands and Josie looked around. "Is Kim here? I just dropped by to..."

She stopped and she looked at my clothing.

"Umm... that dress..."

I just looked down at it, then looked back at Josie and smiled. "It's pretty, isn't it?"

"It is," she said, as she squinted at me. "It's also Emma's." She looked more closely. "KIMMY!? IS THAT REALLY YOU? OH, MY GOD! YOU LOOK AMAZING!"

I was torn between being thrilled that Josie was so impressed and embarrassed that I'd been caught dressed this way. "Umm... thanks."

"Kimmy, this is amazing. Did Emma do this? Well, of course she did, I mean, who else could have and besides you're wearing her dress... I CAN'T BELIEVE IT THOUGH, KIMMY! YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL!"

Suddenly, I was being hugged kissed by a girl I'd known for years and had never so much been alone with for more than a few minutes at a time.

"Oh," she laughed as she stepped back to get a better look at me. "I wish that I could get my husband to look this cute. Of course, at six foot four, two hundred and sixty five pounds, that might be a pretty big trick! Oh, oh! Has Opie seen you, yet?"

I shook my head and was about to say something, but Josie was too wound up to give me so much as an opening in her stream of words.

"She is going to flip! There's no way that she could ever expect you to look this good! I never would have expected it was possible to make you this cute! Can I take a picture?"

"A picture!?" That was a lot to consider. I mean - where was the picture going to end up? What if Opie didn't like how I looked? Could I get Josie to destroy the picture?

It didn't matter, because before I could pose any kind of alternative to taking a picture, Josie turned her back to me, held up her phone and snapped a quick selfie with me included.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Josie switched gears faster than my brain could handle. "The reason I came by is because Opie said I could borrow your big cooler. We're having some friends over for a little cookout on Friday and we don't have one."

I blinked and got my brain around the subject at hand. "Our cooler? Sure. It's in the garage. Listen, do you mind getting it yourself? I have to get back online."

"Sure."

I dashed back to my desk and signed back on just in time and went back to my numbers, while Josie retrieved our cooler and the afternoon flew by, but I was always aware of my new attributes and the new clothing I was wearing.

I was just standing up at five o'clock when Emma burst through my door. "I only have a minute, Kimmy. I have to meet a buyer in twenty minutes. Let me take a good look at you."

She looked me over, from top to bottom and muttered, "Very nice." Then, rather unceremoniously, she took my hand and dragged me to the mirror in the downstairs lavatory and handed me a small tube and what looked like an artists paint brush. "Ok, listen - you can apply your lipstick straight from the tube, but you can use the brush to be extra neat, if you need to. Go ahead and try putting it on yourself."

Now, Emma had applied my lipstick earlier and it seemed pretty easy, but that was pretty much the only time I'd ever considered how to apply lipstick. Opie wore a very natural shade and only on special occasions, but those occasions were few and far between, so I really hadn't had a lot of opportunity to observe the process.

I opened the tube and applied it cautiously.

Emma shook her head. "No, Kimmy, come on. You have to cover the entire surface of both lips. Think of your lips as a coloring book and the lipstick as a crayon. Try it again and don't be afraid to put on too much."

I tried again, this time thinking of the edges of my lips as the lines in a coloring book and the result did look better. Not as nice as Emma had done, but nice.

"Better," Emma said, both of us looking into the mirror, "but not perfect. Here," she took the paint brush and applied some of the lipstick to it, "use this to spread it out as neatly as you can."

I did as I was told, adding more color to the brush when needed and within a minute or so, Emma said, "Excellent. Here." She offered me a tissue. "Blot your lips on this."

I'd seen women in movies put on makeup enough to know how to do that much, so I did.

Emma pulled me back into the living room and gave me one last inspection. She nodded and smiled as she checked out every aspect of my new look. "You look great, Kimmy." She checked her watch. "I have to go, but listen - Opie is going to adore you this way, I'm sure of it. Now, don't go crazy making something big for supper, just have a nice salad or something. I don't want you to get all red faced from cooking. And remember, just before Opie comes home, check your hair and lips in the mirror and make sure everything's perfect for her. I gotta go. Love you! Good luck!"

She hugged me and ran out the door in a rush.

Did she just say 'love you' to me? What was going on?

I went into the kitchen and grabbed some lettuce, spinach, kale, tomatoes, some cold, leftover chicken, and some orange slices from the refrigerator and put together two bowls of chicken salad - not my typical meal, but still healthy and tasty. I set the table and set out a bottle of nice white wine. Then, since it was Wednesday, which had been 'Vacuum The First Floor Day' since I'd taken over the household chores, I grabbed the vacuum cleaner and made short work of cleaning.

I was just putting the vacuum cleaner back into the hall closet when I heard the garage door open. Remembering Emma's instructions, I hurried into the lavatory and checked my lips. They looked fine, but I added a little more, just because, and blotted my lips again.

I stepped out of the lav and was going to go to the kitchen to greet Opie when I was seized with an overwhelming sense of dread.

What the hell was I doing?

I was a man, for crying out loud! What was I doing dressed up the way I was?

Opie wasn't going to like this!

Opie was going to flip out!

Opie was going to call me a fairy and throw me out on my ear!

God Almighty, what was wrong with me!? This wasn't a game, any more. I wasn't just prancing around our bed room to play some silly sex game with my wife. I'd let my sister-in-law turn me into a woman in every way possible, shy of my sex organs, I looked like any other woman, and now I was going to present myself to my wife? Looking like this? This was a very, very, very bad idea and I needed to find a way out of it. Unfortunately, Opie was already entering the kitchen and there was no way to make a run for the bedroom without being seen.

"Kim?" I heard her call as she headed in my direction, still unable to see me. "Kim? Are you here, honey? Kim? I have big news, hon? Where are you?"

I turned my back to the doorway she'd have to use to enter this hallway, shut off the light and gritted my teeth, ready for my life to end.

"There you are," I heard her say, just behind me, but I also heard her footsteps stop. God, what was I going to do!?

"Kim?" She sounded different. A little confused. Who could blame her? "Kimmy? What's wrong, honey?"

"Don't look at me," I said quietly.

"What?"

'Just... look away and let me get upstairs and get back to normal."

"What are you talking about?" She touched my shoulder, but I pulled away.

"Please..." I felt like I might die right there. "...please just let me get changed and we'll never talk about this again."

"I don't understand," Opie touched me again, more gently this time. "I've been waiting all day to see how your hair came out. And I have really big news to share. Kim? What's wrong?"

I was shaking with fear. I'd done it. I'd destroyed my marriage by doing this foolish, foolish thing.

"I'm sorry, Opie," I said, with a quiver in my voice. "I... Emma convinced me that you'd want me to take this whole girl-thing further and I... I thought you'd like it, but now... I just look like an idiot... which is what I am. I'm so sorry, Ope. I just want to crawl under a rock and die, now. Please, just turn your back to me and let me go get changed."

"Honey," I don't think I'd ever heard Opie speak so lovingly before as she had when she said that one word. "Just let me see you."

She remained behind me, but ran her hand down my arm to my hand, and she took that in hers. She turned and headed back into the kitchen. I offered no resistance, but followed, with my head hung in shame.

In the kitchen, finally, she turned me so that my body faced her, but my eyes were still focused on the faux-wood-tile of our kitchen floor until she put her fingers under my chin and raised my face until I was looking up into her eyes.

The knot in my stomach had solidified by this point.

Opie's face showed a great deal of surprise as she surveyed me, but I didn't see anything that indicated that she was happy with the way I looked.

Eventually, her head began to shake, slowly, from side to side, and she let out a long breath. "All day long, I've been excited just to see your hair all done up nicely, with your new bangs, but..."

She shook her head again and I began to wish I could just die.

"I never expected anything like this, Kimmy."

"I'm sorry..."

"Sorry?" She shook her head again. "Kimmy... I do not deserve this..."

"I know..." I started to say, but she continued.

"I mean, I left here this morning wondering if my husband might indulge me in a little game and I come home to find him looking more beautiful than I could ever have imagined."

"I know, Opie, I'm an idiot. I never should have... What?" I looked up, shocked.

"Kimmy... I just can't believe how great you look! My God, you're gorgeous!"

"Really!?" I was shaken to my core, having just moments before expecting to be thrown out on my butt. "Then... you're... ok... with this?"

By way of answering my question, Opie moved forward, very quickly, wrapped her arms around me and planted a deep, firm kiss on my lips, while her tongue forced its way into my mouth making me feel excited and nearly defenseless in the face of her onslaught.

When, at last, we came up for air, she smiled down at me. "I've never tasted lipstick when I kissed someone before. I like it, a lot."

It's funny, because the same thought had occurred to me. "Me too," I whispered as I pulled her back towards me and, this time, I kissed her. The chunky heels on the ankle boots I wore making me just a little taller - still shorter than Opie, but taller than usual.

Opie's hands were exploring the very loose fitting material of my dress, feeling the bra strap, tights and panties beneath, resting with one of her hands cupping one of my butt cheeks. Her fingers seemed to be searching for the crease in my bottom, but, of course, the tights prevented that.

A moment later, she broke the kiss in a very theatrical way, pulling her head back in a dramatic manner and letting out a frustrated groan. "Oh, God, Kimmy, I need you right now!"

I turned to lead her up the stairs, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

'No, baby," she said, sounding desperate as she opened the front of her suit coat and began undoing the button at the top of the fly in her slacks. "Right here. Please." Her slacks fell to the floor, followed by her plain, cotton, high waisted underwear - hardly what you'd call 'panties," more like boxers - and she pulled me closer. "Please, baby, please."

I felt the gentle pressure on my shoulders guiding me to my knees and, even though oral sex had never really excited either of us before, right now, I wanted nothing more than to kneel before my wife to worship her womanhood.

So that's what I did. I knelt down before my wife and as I knelt there in supplication, I looked up at her and never felt smaller or less powerful in my life - but in a good way. I was hers and that was all that mattered. I loved her and she loved me and I was going to serve her in this way.

I felt the gentle push of her hand on the back of my head, the soft, full hair on my head being stroked by her powerful palm. I smiled, knowing that my smiled looked brighter than ever due to my lipstick, and I asked, "Do you love me like this?"

"Kimmy, you are the most beautiful husband I could ask for and I love you more right now than I've ever loved you before." I could feel her quiver with excitement as she spoke.

"I don't think I'm really your husband any more, though," I teased. "I mean... you just called me beautiful and I'm on my knees on the kitchen floor about to give you oral sex."

She moaned a bit more and moved her crotch closer to my face. "Oh, you're killing me, Kim. You are my wife, then, baby. My soft, beautiful, little wife. Kneeling before me in her pretty little dress, her heels, her makeup and her soft, beautiful hair and I love her - you - so, so, so much. Please. Don't be a tease like all the other girls."

I know it was part of the game, but hearing her calling me her beautiful wife and using the word 'her' to describe me sent me over the top and all I wanted was to be my husband's wife - right there on my knees.

So, I went to work with my tongue, teasing her lips before plunging into her with a desire and aggression I'd never displayed when I'd penetrated her my male organ, which was now imprisoned in silk and lace panties and tights.

Opie moaned, nearly to the point of howling, as she grabbed the back of my head and pressed it further into her womanhood, sometimes making it difficult for me to breathe. She must have orgasmed twenty times or more before she finally pulled away and grabbed the edge of the counter for balance.

"Are you ok?" I asked from my knees.

"Ok?" She laughed. "Kimmy... I'm in Heaven! My God, you are amazing! I never experienced anything like that!"

I smiled and stood up. Then I helped Opie pull up her trousers and buttoned and zipped them up for her.

"I'll afraid I may have messed up your makeup," she chuckled.

Still glowing in the joy that I'd been able to bring to Opie, I smiled even more broadly. "Nothing that can't be fixed. I'll be right back." I leaned up and kissed her cheek, then departed for the lavatory, feeling more loved by and connected to Opie than I'd ever felt before.

I was surprised that my makeup didn't just smudge off when I removed Opie's fluids from my face. Emma had said that she had used a high quality makeup. I guess that's what she meant. I took a moment to fix my hair as well and I once again marveled at how much my eyes resembled my mother's now that Emma had worked her magic.

Satisfied, I returned to the kitchen to find Opie leaning on the kitchen island, speaking into her phone. "I cannot believe how beautiful you made him look," she said, smiling at me and signaling for me to come to her. When I did, she put her arm around me and cuddled me to her shoulder. "No!" She continued, "I was excited to see what he'd look like with his bangs when I got home. I never expected to find a beautiful woman waiting for me." She kissed the top of my head while she listened to who I assumed, correctly as it turned out, was Emma, then she said, "I have a real challenge for you, then. I haven't even told my beautiful little Kimmy this yet, but the Chief Administrator for the hospital announced his retirement last week and the board of directors announced his successor today. Would you like to guess who they chose?"

I pulled back and looked up at my wife. "You?" I asked in astonishment, obviously at the same time as my sister-in-law.

"That's right," Opie smiled, "yours truly." She listened for a moment as I hugged her in congratulations, then I heard her say, "More like quadruple my current pay, actually, and that's why I'd like to take all of you - you, Josie, her husband, mom and Kim to that steak house down at Mohegan Sun Casino - You know, that really fancy one we saw on that Food Network show? Yes, that's the one - On Friday at eight. I figured we could get all dressed up - fancy new dresses and new suits, you know - have a nice dinner, do some dancing and maybe lose a few dollars at the tables or slots before coming home. Of course you can bring a date."

"Opie, that's so great!" I said quietly hugging my wife, excited for her success and the prospect of a big night ahead.

"Yes," she continued talking to Emma and hugging me, "but I think that we'll need some help in that department, too. Sure. We'll talk in the morning. Thanks, Em. Yep. Love you, too."

When she'd set her phone down, I was like an excited puppy jumping around Opie. "Oh, my God, Ope! That's amazing! Congratulations! Why didn't you tell me the moment you came in?"

She smiled and guided me to the table. "I tried to, but attention was diverted away from the silliness of my work by the beauty of my husband," she smiled as she held my chair out for me. "Did you do all of this for me?" She asked, indicating the hair, dress, makeup, etc.

I smoothed my tee shirt dress beneath me as I sat and I smiled up at her as she helped me to scoot my seat in to the table. "I did. Well, if I'm really telling the truth, I guess I have to admit that I did it for both you and me. It was kind of fun to get dressed up for you like this."

She sat and pulled her own seat in and smiled as she spread her napkin across her lap. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Kim, because the truth is, I really like the way you look like this."

I felt tingles go down my spine when she said that. "Really?"

"Really." She sipped her wine and picked up her fork. She stabbed a piece of chicken and some spinach and began to bring it to her mouth, but stopped and looked at it for the longest time before putting it back down in her bowl.

"Opie?" I asked. "Is something wrong?"

She breathed a very deep sigh, picked up her wine glass and downed the whole thing, then put her elbows on the table, folded her fingers together above her elbows and rested her forehead on her knuckles, obviously distraught.

"Ope?" I could feel myself shaking. She'd just been so happy and now she was so upset about something. This was not like her at all. This was serious. I'd known Opie a long time and I'd only seen her get like this a few times and never this quickly. Something had gotten to her and gotten to her very suddenly. I knew what was happening, though. She was leaving me. That had to be it. She had all this new wealth and she came home to find me dressed like a little pansy and now she was leaving leaving me. "Opie... please... please... talk to me."

She sighed again and raised her head to rest her mouth on her thumbs for a moment before dropping her hands to her sides and speaking.

"Kim... I think it's time that I tell you the truth about something."

I could actually feel my heart breaking. "Oh, my God... You're leaving me, aren't you?"

"What?" She shook her head, shocked. "No. Of course not."

"It's the dress and makeup, isn't it? I'll... I'll get changed."

"No, Kim..."

"Is it... another man? An affair?"

"What? Kim? How could you even think that?"

"Then whatever you have to tell me doesn't matter, Opie. As long as you still love me, everything is fine."

She smiled and let out a nervous laugh. "Ok, Kimmy, just stop." She shook her head. "Look, I think the best thing for me to do is just to say this, so... please... no matter how shocking you find this... just let me get through this, ok?"

I just nodded, scared to death that Opie had some terrible disease or something.

"Alright, look, about three years ago, when I moved from billing to building management, I changed the way my badge read from 'Penelope Jane Reed' to 'PJ Reed.' I didn't do it for any particular reason. It just kind of fit the badge better, you know? Anyway, right around that same time, I stopped spiking my hair at work and just combing it over - kind of like a guy does. I'd spike it here, then comb like a guy at the gym. It was just easier."

"It was always spiky again when you got home." I pointed out.

"Yeah," she answered. "I don't know why, but... I was a little embarrassed about it, so I'd spray it and spike it again in the car. Weird, I know."

I didn't see anything too bad in her confession so far, so I just waited.

"So, anyway, one day, this man comes in to see my supervisor and he is all upset about an issue with a renovation that's underway at that hospital and my supervisor does a lousy job of explaining why the renovation is taking so long. I happen to overhear the conversation and I jump in and explain everything. As it turns out, the guy who is upset is Jack Lawrence, Managing Director of the Hospital and he takes an immediate shine to me. Two weeks later, I'm his personal assistant and he only knows me as PJ and he just assumed that I'm a man."

She stopped and waited for my reaction.

I sputtered as I spoke. "But... how? I mean... yeah... you wear suits that look manly, but... you have breasts."

She sighed. "I don't have breasts at work."

"You don't have breasts at work? What do you do? Do you take them off and put them in a desk drawer or something?"

"Hang on." Opie got up and walked across the kitchen and exited through the garage door, coming back a few moments later with a gym bag. As I'd mentioned, she had been very health conscious for a long while and I knew she'd been going to a gym, but I couldn't imagine why she'd gone to get her bag.

She unzipped the bag, then looked at me and stopped for a moment. "Let me show you how this works."

She unbuttoned the plain, white Oxford style shirt she was wearing to reveal a very plain, beige, minimizing sports bra. "First off, I don't have an awful lot of boob to begin with," she explained. "The sports bra makes it even flatter, but then I add this."

From the bag, she produced what at first appeared to be a men's sleeveless undershirt, but when she put it on I realized it was made of the same kind of stretchy material as a woman's bike shorts. "Spanx makes them for men with flabby chests," she explained, "so that their man-boobs don't show through their shirts. With this on and my hair combed this way, I just look like any other guy."

She pulled her shirt back on and buttoned it up, reached into her bag and grabbed a tie and deftly added it to her collar. When she pulled on a pair of decidedly masculine looking eyeglasses, the results were undeniable. My five foot eleven wife looked like a very fit man. She took a men's suit coat out of her bag and put it on instead of the women's blazer she'd worn into the house before taking her seat again. When she spoke, her voice was just a tad lower and a lot more authoritatively.

"I know this a bit... unorthodox, I guess, but to be very honest - PJ Reed has a lot more opportunities for advancements in this 'man's world' than 'Penelope Jane Reed' ever have ever had."

I just stared at her, my mouth agape. She was a man. A strong, handsome man. She looked like a man. She sounded like a man. She even moved like a man.

"Well?" She asked. "What do you think?"

I didn't know what to think, but I blurted out the thing that had been bubbling in my brain. "Oh, my God, you're Clark Kent!"
 
 
To Be Continued...

I just stared at her, my mouth agape. She was a man. A strong, handsome man. She looked like a man. She sounded like a man. She even moved like a man.

"Well?" she asked. "What do you think?"

I didn't know what to think, but I blurted out the thing that had been bubbling in my brain. "Oh, my God, you're Clark Kent!"

That caused her to let out a big, manly chuckle. "Yeah, I guess I am. Kimmy, look - all that girly stuff that Emma and Josie do so well... I hate it. It's all so fussy and time consuming... It's just not me. I was never meant to be that kind of a woman. I was meant to be THIS kind of a woman."

"A man?" I asked.

"I'm not a man," she said. "I'm a woman who presents in a non traditional way, that's all. Ok, yeah, I guess I do present as a man, but I have no lesbian interests whatsoever - other than seeing my lover in the girliest lingerie imaginable. Other than that, I'm all woman."

I nodded. I guess I understood. I mean, why not. It was the twenty-first century, right? She had the right to be whoever she wanted.

"Now, let me be very clear about something," she continued. "On Monday, when you gave me that nightgown, I definitely over reacted, but I don't regret it at all, because I think we discovered that as much as I need to express my masculine self, you need to express you feminine self - I mean I think the events of the last half hour have made that very clear. If you ask me, I think that our new life is about to begin.'

"Whoa, Opie, hold on a moment!" I panicked. "I'm wearing the nightie to prove a point and this outfit today is a lark, but I'm not suddenly going to start living as a woman!"

"Why not?" The calmness with which she asked this question shocked me.

"Opie... I have a job. I have friends. We have neighbors. It'd be embarrassing."

She nodded. "Kim, I just got signing bonus equal to nearly twice my current salary to accept a job that will be paying me nearly a million and a half a year..."

I felt the blood drain from my face. I'd had no idea she'd be making that much.

"... You can quit your job if you want, we can certainly afford it. Other than Emma and Josie, the only friends either of have are people from work and they are really just colleagues, not really friends and as for neighbors..." she smiled broadly, now, "... THIS is the big surprise."

She came to my side of the table an knelt beside me, taking my hand in hers. Her head was level with mine and she was smiling from ear to ear. "Kimmy, you know that place on the way to the Brookfields that you like so much - the big colonial with the farmer's porch and the huge yard? The green and white place set back with the poplar trees out in the distance? Well, it's for sale and I think we should go take a look at it tonight."

"What!?" I couldn't believe it! I'd loved this house since I was a child! It was absolutely beautiful. It sat back on a big lot, a stately old house with a perfect porch for rocking chairs. I always imagined what it would be like to sit on that porch and rock in an armed rocking chair and read a good book on a nice summer evening. "We could never afford that place!"

"Of course we can. Now, let's just eat up and go. I made an appointment to meet a realtor at seven thirty."

"Opie, I can't go out like this!"

Well, somehow Opie convinced me to go out dressed as I was. She was correct in pointing out that I was going to get into the car, which was in the garage, so no neighbors wouldn't see me, I'd see no one I knew and she'd be doing most of the talking - and that was what came to pass.

I remained a nervous wreck, none the less. Well, that's not quite true. I was a nervous wreck for the first forty five minutes or so, but then... maybe it was the excitement of viewing the house that I had been obsessed with since I was a child, or maybe things just got to feeling normal as began moving around, but my nervousness level certainly lowered from critical to cautious as the evening wore on.

As we headed west on the country road towards the house, I looked up the listing on my iPad, IT WAS NOT CHEAP! Of course, everything was pricey right now, but this was a pretty big number. Opie told me to relax, though, so I did.

The house exceeded all of my expectations! Oh, my God, it was gorgeous! The floors were the most beautiful wood I'd ever seen! Exquisite woodwork everywhere. The kitchen was modern, but maintained the nineteenth century aesthetic of the house, which we learned had been built in 1881. It was just getting a little dark when we went out to see the yard and gardens, but you could still see that everything had been kept beautifully by the previous owner.

Opie did almost all of the talking, occasionally asking me, 'What do you think, Kimmy?' and I'd respond with a breathless, 'It's beautiful!' no matter what I was looking at. Partly because, despite Opie's assurances that my voice was fine, I was nervous that I might give myself away if I spoke too much and partly because everything was, in fact, beautiful.

In the gardens, though, the realtor, a charming, but somewhat pretentious middle aged woman with bleached blonde hair turned her attention to me. "I assume that, being of Asian decent, gardening is a big part of your life, Mrs Reed?"

Now, my name was not Reed - at least it wasn't then. Reed was Opie's name and she had steadfastly not wanted to take my name when we'd gotten married, and I was fine with that. My name was Bristol. I thought about pointing out that the realtor's remarks were both sexist and racist, but I was kind of enjoying just being Opie's wife and the high I felt at the possibility of owning this amazing property was getting to me, so I found myself suddenly becoming very coy.

"Oh, I do what I can. My mother was quite a gifted gardener, but she died when I was very young. I only have a few window boxes and big pots along the walkway at home, now. This would be quite a challenge."

"Well, don't worry, baby," Opie chuckled in her oddly manly voice. "We can hire a landscaping company to come in and do the work and you can oversee it all. You know, work with the landscape architect to plan everything out, season by season, then enjoy the fruits of your labors. Be 'the lady of the house' from now on." The smile on her face was genuine. She was actually offering me a life of leisure that neither of us ever expected was possible. The idea actually knocked me off balance a bit.

We went back into the house and the realtor wanted to show us one last room. The 'crowning glory' of the house, she said, and she was right. She opened a set of siding, pocket doors to reveal the most beautiful solarium I'd ever seen in my life - well, the first I'd ever seen in person in my life. Three walls of beautiful, small paned glass, with a bronze fountain - an actual fountain - in the middle it. It worked and everything!

When the realtor flipped the switches that turned on the fountain and lowered the lighting to make the room's lighting soft and romantic, the look on my face must have given away how I felt.

"Well, Mr Reed," she said to Opie, "I think the little woman is sold. How about you?"

"Why don't you wander around the house a bit, Kimmy," Opie said to me. "I'm going to talk a little business."

Yeah, I know, I should have been insulted. I was an actuary, for crying out loud. I probably knew more about numbers then either of them, but I was in love with that house and all I wanted to do was look at it. Besides - as far as I was concerned, this was all a fantasy, anyway. I knew how much it cost and I knew how much it would cost to maintain and I knew how much I made. I could never afford it. Opie's new income still seemed unreal to me. Maybe after I'd had a chance to process it I could consider whether or not she could afford it.

I ran the toes of my heeled boots along the marble of the solarium floors. I felt the lead in between the glass panes of the windows. I ran my fingers along the oak panels on the walls and I imagined how a tall, decorated Christmas tree would look right there in the center of the windows - maybe not the tree where we'd open presents, the marble floors would be too cold for that. You know, a tree for guests at our holiday party. What perfect place for a party. I could picture it so well. Opie could invite business associates and their spouses. We'd have Emma and Josie come, of course. We could invite people from town - I mean, if I wasn't working, why couldn't I get to know some of the other wives, right?

Oh, it would be so nice! I could get Opie a nice velvet tuxedo jacket and maybe I'd wear a nice red velvet dress...

Wait a minute!

I took a breath. What the hell was happening to me? When I pictured my future in this beautiful house... I was Opie's pretty little wife. Is that what I wanted?

I was too scared to even consider it.

I folded my arms across my midriff and realized, again, that I was out in the world in a cute green tee shirt dress with tights and cute little boots. I saw my reflection in the leaded glass and I saw a cute little Asian housewife looking back at me. Oh, God! I thought I'd been playing a game, but I was a woman! An actual woman.

Or was I?

What had Opie said earlier about how she was still a woman? 'I'm not a man," she'd said. 'I'm a woman who presents in a non traditional way, that's all.'

Was I the opposite of that? Was I just a man who presented in a non traditional way? Was that ok? Was that what I wanted?

"Oh, you're still in here, Mrs Reed," the realtor entered the room, smiling broadly. "Your husband is on the phone with the owners. He asked me to come get you. I think he'll have some good new for you in a few minutes."

She held out her hand, and for some strange reason, I took it and allowed myself to be led by her to the kitchen. Along the way, she spoke to me in a somewhat maternal way, "So, how long have you two been married?"

"Oh, umm, just a year," I sputtered, still mulling over much bigger questions.

"Oh, married during the pandemic, then. Oh, it must have been a small affair, then. I'm so sorry. Maybe you could have a bigger one once you've moved in here."

"Oh, yes, maybe," I just agreed, without any thought.

"You'll get to wear your gown again."

'Oh, I just wore a suit," I said, without thinking.

"Really? A beautiful thing like you? Why on earth would someone as cute as you not wear a gown?"

'Because I'm a guy, you moron,' I wanted to say, but instead I said, "Oh, you know... it was just us and a friend officiating and Opie's sisters and mom, so we didn't do anything fancy."

"Opie?" She giggled. "Is that your pet name for Mr Reed? Opie? Like Ron Howard on The Andy Griffith Show? That's adorable. Where did that come from?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Ever since I've known him, his family always called him Opie."

We entered the kitchen and I heard my 'wife/husband/I-don't-really-know-what-to-think' on the phone speaking, "Yes, I can have a certified check to your lawyer by noon tomorrow. I do. Yes. Their offices are not far from mine. Very good. Just have them send those papers to me and my lawyers first thing in the morning and, provided everything is worded to my lawyer's satisfaction, I'll run a check over to them at lunch time and we'll be all set. Yes. Excellent. Thank you very much, sir. Yes, it has been a pleasure speaking to you. You have my contact information. Please feel free to contact me should you need to. Yes, good evening to you, as well. Thank you, very much." He ended the call.

She turned to me and smiled. "Well, Kimmy, provided everything goes well tomorrow morning and the inspection goes well tomorrow afternoon, this is your new house, baby!" She held her arms wide, thrilled that she'd been able to procure my dream house for me and, truth be told, I was thrilled, too, so I put my anxieties on hold and I ran over and I threw my arms around Opie's torso and hugged her.

"Thank you, so much," I said, on the verge of happy tears.

"Well... 'Opie'..." the realtor chuckled, "congratulations." She extended her hand.

Opie shook her hand in return. "PJ will do just fine," she smiled, friendly.

The realtor remained friendly, too. "Your wife used your nickname and I thought it was sweet. Sorry."

"No need," she said, still in a shockingly male persona. "It's a family name. Kimmy and I have been together a long time. I use PJ
professionally. You understand."

"Of course," she smiled. "Well, congratulations, you two."

Before we left, Opie had her take a picture of us in the solarium, then we headed home.

"Aren't you excited?" Opie asked, as we headed north-east. "It's the start of a whole new life. New career, new town, new house, new personas... it's exciting."

I sighed. "Ope, do you really want me to become a woman for you? To give up my manhood?"

"Oh, please," she laughed in an annoyingly mannish manner. "Listen, Kimberly, neither of us has fit into the traditional expectations of male and female beauty. You are a 'cute little' guy and I am a 'handsome figure of a woman.' Not exactly complimentary, if you ask me. I didn't 'give up' my womanhood. I enhanced the gifts I was given and made use of them. Sure, my coworkers think I'm a man, but who cares. The turn over in personnel at a hospital is insane. I don't think there are five people still there who knew me as Penelope and they're all still in lower management. I doubt they'd ever recognize me, now. I hated people saying things like, 'you know, with a little makeup, you'd be really pretty.' I like being PJ. I like being the guy in charge. Kim - I've just become the fourth highest paid person in the entire Caduceus Health Care System. Do you seriously think they'd have given that position to someone named 'Penelope?'"

"Maybe not, but since you mentioned treating women as second class citizens, what's with exiling me while you went out to the kitchen to talk business? I'm not some empty headed little, nine-teen-fifties-era housewife, Opie. I'm a grown man with math skills and business experience. You had no right to treat me that way." My voice must have conveyed my irritation, because before I'd even finished, Opie had pulled the car to the side of the back road we were traveling and put it in park. She took my hand in hers and looked really sad.

"Kim, honey, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean for it to come off that way. See... it's just that... honey... this house... since we were kids, whenever we'd come this way, like when your dad would drive us out here for ice cream, or later, when we could drive and we'd just take rides in the country on Sundays, whenever we'd pass this place, you'd always say, 'There's my house!' About a week ago I had to go to the Caduceus Hospital out in Warren and I came this way. I saw that the house was for sale and looked up the listing, but I knew that it would be irresponsible for us to buy it at the price they wanted. Today, when I met with the board and signed my new contract, the very first thing I thought was, 'I can buy that house for Kim.' I just didn't want you to hear the final amount I paid for it, honey, because it's my gift to you. That's all. I wasn't trying to exile you. I was trying to do something nice for you. I wanted the very first thing I did with the money from this new job to be something special for you. I'm sorry."

Geez, I mean, how do you stay mad at that, right?

"Opie... I'm sorry." All of a sudden I realized that she'd tried to make this evening the best evening of my life and I was being pissy about it. I reached over and hugged her as best I could. "Thank you, Opie. I just... I'm just worried about the cost. Are you sure we can afford it?"

"Honey - the house is expensive, but we just entered a new income bracket. We have the down payment in the bank, our house should fetch a nice three fifty or so in this market and I'll be making a million and a half before bonuses next year. We're in great shape - well - aside from the fact that my sister is going to be ticked that I bought it without her help. We'll let her sell our house, though. That'll make her happy."

"And the dresses?" I asked. "Are you serious about that? You really want everyone to think I'm your wife from now on?"

"Only if you're willing," she shrugged, "but I have to be honest - I think I'm done trying to be a guy at work and something else at home. I'm going to look like this from now on, Kim, and I have no problem with people drawing conclusions about us based on how we look. I hope you're ok with that, too."

"Opie, as long as we're together, I'm ok with it, but I need to think about being a full time wife, ok?"

"Fine. And you know that I'm ok with whatever you decide, too."

We both nodded and sat in silence for a moment.

"Can I ask for one big favor, though?" Opie asked, somewhat coyly.

"Sure."

She took a big breath and let it out. "Friday is kind of a big night for me and I'd kind of like to make it a big celebration."

'Right. The casino. I heard you tell Emma."

"Yeah, but..." she sighed. "I know it's a big ask, but... I think you're just beautiful like this, Kim and I'd really love it if you'd just give me one night of full blown Kimmy. I mean - Go with Josie and Emma to a salon, have your hair, nails and makeup done - the whole works. Pick out a beautiful dress and I'll buy a nice suit and let's do this in style. Just this once. Please. Then... if you choose to never wear a dress again, at least we have this memory. And if you do decide to be my wife... then you know whether or not you like go whole girly world of dressing up for fancy events - and if you do, we make fancy events a more frequent thing."

I thought about if for a moment. Josie and Emma would have no problem with it and Josie had her husband, Sam, wrapped around her little finger, so there was no problem there. "What about your mom?"

She snickered. "She'll make a few inappropriate remarks, but I'll give her a few hundred dollars to gamble with and she'll be happy as a clam."

Ok, that did seem true. Her mom was a casino maven who loved the slots. By the time we got to the casino, she'd be more focused on the games than the dress.

The more I thought about it, the more I kind of wanted to try it, too. I mean, I was really taken with the sensations of the clothes that I was wearing right at that moment, and I loved how I looked when I looked in the mirror. I also loved that Opie liked how I looked. I mean, she always 'liked' how I looked, but now she LIKED how I looked. If she'd really been a guy, I'd have given her a boner.

And then there was the fact that my wife had just given me a house that cost a loooooooooooooot of money.

A loooooooooooooot of money.

As a gift.

Did I mention that the house she bought was my dream house?

For me?

As a gift?

Now, all she was asking was that I do something fun, something that I really wanted to do anyway.

"Ok. I'll do it." Then I thought for a moment. "But I have to work tomorrow and Friday. When can I do everything that needs to be done?"

Opie shrugged. "If you won the lottery, would you keep your job?"

I shook my head. "No. I mean, I don't hate my job or anything, but if I could afford to not have to work..."

"Well - you just won the lottery." She interrupted.

"You mean I should just quit? Without any notice?"

"When we get home, type up a polite, businesslike resignation, effective immediately, and send it to your boss. Apologize, but explain that changes in your life require you to leave your position without notice. They'll be ticked off, but they'll survive. Believe me, I've had good people leave without notice more times than I can count. Things happen. People need to leave in a rush. It's not their fault."

"Huh." I thought about it for a moment or two. "Alright. I'll do it. I'll type up a letter and quit, effective tomorrow."

Opie squeezed my knee through my tights. "That's my girl!"

I swatted playfully at his hand. "Not yet I'm not... but, seriously, Opie... thank you for the house and... well... thank you."

She took, my hand and kissed the back of it. "That's what I'm here for, Kimmy."

I wrote the letter of resignation that night, it took a while. It basically thanked the company for all of the opportunities I'd been given and then apologized for having to leave without notice, but unexpected changes in my family situation had made it necessary for me to leave my position immediately. I didn't send it right away and then didn't sleep well as I kept wondering if I was doing the right thing. I finally made up my mind and sent it out to my boss at around four in the morning. He responded at around six that he understood and that the company would miss me and if I should need a job in the future, I should get in touch. I felt so much better after that.

When Opie came down for breakfast, she told me to take a nap on the couch, which I did for a very short time until I heard my sister-in-law scream from the kitchen, "You bought a house without talking to me first!" What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"Shh," I heard Opie speak more quietly. "Kim is sleeping. I wanted to buy the house last night, without any delay. I knew you'd want to negotiate and play the 'I can get do better' game, and I appreciate that, but this is Kim's dream house and I just got my dream job. It was all about joy and not about money. Will you sell this house for us?"

She huffed a little and I sat up.

"Of course I'll sell it for you. Now, tell me - Do you want a profit or is this sale just about joy, too?"

"Thank you," Opie said and he kissed her cheek as I entered.

"Oh, hi," Emma smirked. "I hear you own a mansion."

I smiled. "Just a big old farm house."

"Yeah. I saw the listing online. It's a big old, FANCY farm house. Congratulations. Hey - why aren't you getting ready for work?" Then she looked at her sister. "And why do you look like a sitcom dad headed off to the office? You two used to be so boring and uninteresting. God, in the last few days you've become more interesting than anything on Tik Tok. What is going on around here?"

Opie pulled on her suit coat and glasses and looked even more manly than ever. "I'll let Kim explain. I have to run." She kissed Emma's cheek and then my lips before leaving.

"Well?" Emma crossed her arms and waited for an explanation.

So, I gave her a quick synopsis.

"She's been working as a guy!? Oh, my God, that explains so much! So - what are you are you going to do, then?" Emma was almost as titillated as she was shocked.

"I'm not sure."

"Are you seriously considering doing this full time, for the rest of your life?"

"Considering it, yes," I explained. "Seriously...? Not quite seriously, yet, but I am going to go through with my agreement to go all the way and be as pretty as I can on Friday night. Can you help me with that?"

Emma shook her head. "You know this kind of thing is all fun and games until somebody gets hurt. Are you sure that your marriage is up to this kind of experimentation?"

I thought for a moment. "You know... Last week, when you and Josie convinced me that buying Opie some pretty lingerie, it seemed like a great idea, but... now I understand why it upset her. That's growth and that's a sign of a healthy marriage, right? And on Monday, when Opie showed up with this nightgown for me... I was really ticked at first and I really only put it on to prove a point, but... having put it on... and then having put on everything else... I'm feeling a lot more broad minded than I was a week ago. I think this is exactly the kind of experiment that our marriage needs."

She smiled at me. "Ok. I'll text Josie. There's more to be done than I can do, so we'll have to go see some professionals. I'll have her call around for appointments today and tomorrow and we'll have to go shopping for a cocktail dress or a gown - to be honest, I'm not even sure where to do that, but we'll figure that out. For now, though, let's go see if Opie has any lady razors or Nair still hanging around. Come on, little girl. There's a lot to be done." She took my hand and started leading me up the stairs. "You know, this is going to be kind of fun. I've never taught an awkward little boy to be a beautiful woman before."

Let me tell you, you may think that you've done embarrassing things, but until you've stood in a shower stall and had every inch of your body shaved by your sister-in-law, a woman you've known, and not always gotten along with, since before puberty, you have no idea what embarrassment is. To be honest, though, Emma was pretty cool about the whole thing. The only teasing she really did was done to make me relax and it was all over pretty quickly. One thing I had inherited from my Japanese mother was a dearth of body hair, and the little that I did have was very fine. Combine that fine hair with light brown hair color I inherited from my dad and I rarely had to even shave my face, but I did that day. Emma suggested that, should I decide to make womanhood a lifestyle choice, electrolysis would be a good way to eliminate the need to shave permanently.

At nine-thirty, Josie showed up with a dress she'd picked up for me at Emma's - Josie was a good deal too tall and busty to loan me any of her clothes - and a pair of low heeled sandals.

Emma and I were in the kitchen having a light breakfast. Me looking glorious in a towel-turban and my sheer robe and nothing else - NOTHING else.

"Somebody want to explain all of this to me?" Josie asked, playfully curious.

Emma gave her the gist of the situation, including the news of our new house. "Oh, and you should see our sister in her work persona. She's been living a double life as a man at work for years."

"Well, that explains a lot," Josie laughed.

"Exactly what I said," Emma agreed as she stood to clear the table.

Josie turned her attention to me at that point. "So, what's going to happen with you, then? Gardening Club? PTA? Sewing classes?"

I shrugged. "I know you're teasing, but none of that sounds all that bad to me."

She smirked. "Me neither, actually. Ok, listen - I got an appointment to get our hair colored and trimmed at eleven and our nails done at two. Tomorrow, we get our hair and makeup done at noon. Now, get your iPad and show me this house of yours."

For the next few minutes we looked at pictures of the house Opie had bought me - well, provided all went well that morning.

At some point, Emma was brushing out my hair and saying that I didn't need to worry about how it looked too much, since the salon visit was in our near future. As she went to work on my face, she sent Josie upstairs to get a bra and panty set for me to wear.

A few minutes later, with no sense of impropriety at all, my older sister-in-law casually removed my robe while my younger sister-in-law ran my silk panties up my legs. Hey - my groin had just been shorn by Emma. What was left to hide, right?

I tucked myself and let Josie fasten my bra, then accepted her playful teasing. "Ooh, you have a nice little rack there, Kimmy."

"I have an expensive bra, is what I have," I teased back.

The dress that Emma had had Josie grab for me that day was far from a loose fitting tee shirt dress. "It's important that the hairdresser knows that you're a 'lady' when you go in for a coloring today," she explained. "You looked cute as hell yesterday, but that was a kind of a 'work day' dress. This is a 'my husband is a somebody important and I can afford to be treated well' kind of dress, without being a 'I'm a fucking bitch' kind of dress."

"Ok," I shrugged.

Regardless, it was an adorable dress. Soft, soft, soft cotton. Really pale, baby blue with little white flowers and stems all over it. The bodice was all smocked, so it kind of made it look like I had a little more bust than I did. It had a square neck line and these littlegirlish puffy sleeves with a little ruffle that made my arms look even more slender than they were. It had a slightly high waist, and the skirt fell to a couple of inches above my knees. It had a soft cotton under dress skirt. I don't think it was a real expensive dress, but it was a good quality dress and it gave me tickles when I wore it. I mean, if I'd been out and about and saw a woman wearing that dress, I would have looked twice - not because I wanted to sleep with her, but just because she was... well... so feminine.

The sandals were a simple affair, narrow straps with a little heel. Nothing challenging - but challenging heels were in the not too distant future.

"What do you think?" Emma asked Josie.

"You know, she cleans up pretty well for a guy. I do admit that I'm a little peeved that you had her all dressed up yesterday and didn't share her with me. So what's the plan for the rest of the day?"

Emma checked time. "We've got a little time before we leave for the salon. Then lunch. Then mani/pedi's..."

Josie glanced at me, "Have you ever had a mani/pedi before?"

"Of course not!"

A huge smiled crossed her face as she gripped my shoulders. "Oh, you're going to love it! Emma and I have been getting them together every week since I was, what, nine or ten. Opie used to come with us sometimes, but it was too girly for her. It'll be nice to have a third sister again!"

Emma snickered as she logged onto my iPad. "Honestly, Josie, you should have seen Opie when she walked out of this house this morning. She DID NOT look like our sister. I swear there was a penis in her trousers somewhere. Alright, look - I just entered a Google search for cocktail dresses in Worcester County and all I got is prom dresses."

"I got my wedding rehearsal dress at Nordstrom's out in Natick. We could head there after our mani/pedis."

"Natick!?" I asked. "That's like an hour away. We wouldn't be headed that way until... what... three thirty or so? I have to make Opie supper and..." they were staring at me, wide mouthed. "What?"

They burst into laughter. "You have to make Opie supper?" Emma could hardly speak through her spasms.

"You're already Opie's wife!" Josie screamed in glee.

"I am not," I insisted, but the pretty flowered dress with the flouncy skirt and the puffy sleeves did nothing to instill a sense of masculinity.

"Alright, alright," Josie put her arm around my shoulder. "Don't get your panties in a twist. Em will text your hubby that she'll have to have to fend for herself tonight. I'm sure that Opie will be happy to go one night without a hot meal to have you all dolled up for her tomorrow night."

"Ok. I just sent her a text, Kim. I'm sure everything will be fine. Let's get ready to go. Does Opie have an old purse around that you can use for now?"

I ran upstairs to look and came back down with a plain brown bag with a shoulder strap that was received with raised eyebrows, smirks and a resolution to fix that problem today.

"Opie just text back," Emma said as we walked out the door. "She's wrapping up everything on your house after work tonight. She says, 'enjoy your time with the girls and find a pretty dress.'"

"Nope. You are definitely not Opie's wife," Josie said, as she held the back door of Emma's car open for me. "Smooth your skirt as you sit, then pivot into the car, Mr Macho." She closed the door behind me when I'd done so, then got into the front herself and Emma drove.

The salon was quite an experience. Shampooing, conditioning, coloring, tinting, trimming...There was a lot of discussion about what needed to be done. What colors would look best. What would best frame my face. I wasn't involved in any of those discussions, but there were an awful lot of them.

When all was said and done, my hair was much lighter, nearly blonde, with gold and reddish highlights, layered and given enough of a perm to make it look full and lively. I have to admit, I was pretty shocked by the whole thing. My brown hair and Asian face were always a bit of a dichotomy. Now, with my hair so light, my features seemed downright exotic.

At Emma's instruction, two earrings were installed in each of my earlobes. Josie lobbied for a belly-button piercing, but I drew the line at that. Then it was several different makeup trials with discussions of how each would work with different hair treatments, depending on dress styles, and finally I was able to stand, again.

Lunch was at a trendy place I'd never been that was on the first floor of The Mill. The place specialized in soups and salads, therefore it's clientele was primarily female. I was surprised by how pleasant the company of women actually was. Sure, some were loud and some were crude, but the subjects discussed tended to be less... disgusting than those subjects discussed by men.

Then we had our mani/pedis - and experience I cannot recommend more highly. Oh, my lord, why do men not do this!? The feeling of soaking your hands and feet in warm liquid, then having them worked on by skilled people is just indescribable! Oh, especially the pedicure! I was in Heaven!

My toenails were sculpted and filled and filed and painted 'candy apple red.' I had acrylic nail extensions applied to my fingers and they were also sculpted and filled and filed and painted 'candy apple red.' I was informed that, should my dress for Friday evening require a change of nail color, we would return the next day. I made it clear that, should the change of color require the entire treatment I'd just endured, I'd happily return every day, but that was just received with laughter by everyone nearby.

On the way to Natick, Emma's phone, which was also acting as our music source, rang. "It's your hubby," Josie teased, as Emma punched the 'answer' button. The phone answered through the radio, so we could all hear.

"Hi, Opie," Emma said. "What's up?"

"Hi, Em. Hey, is Kim with you?"

'Yeah, I'm here!" I shouted from the back seat so that the speaker could pick up my voice.

"Hey, honey! Why aren't you answering your phone?"

"My phone?" I grabbed the purse I was carrying and pulled out my phone. 'Eleven missed calls.' "Oh, Geez. Sorry." I shouted. "It's on vibrate and in my pocketbook."

I could hear Opie chuckle. "You bought a pocketbook?"

"No, it's one of your old pocketbooks, and knock it off, smart ass. You want me all dolled up for you for tomorrow, night, well you and I are paying for all of this, so I need to carry my wallet somewhere and this Holly Hobbie outfit your sisters have me in doesn't have any pockets."

"Holly Hobbie!?"she laughed. "You two aren't torturing him, are you?"

Without warning, Josie turned and pointed her phone at me. "I just sent you a picture. Does she look like she's a Holly Hobbie or that she's being tortured?"

"Let's see," Opie, grunted on the phone and there was a bit of silence, then a long exhalation. "Wow... Kimmy... wow..."

Emma and Josie gave each other triumphant smiles.

Opie cleared her throat and came to her senses. "Umm, anyway, the reason I called, is... WE GOT THE HOUSE! IT'S ALL OURS! LOCK STOCK AND BARREL! We even own the furniture. We can get rid of any thing we don't want, but it's all ours, baby! Are you happy!"

Honestly, I could barely process it! "I'm thrilled!, Opie! I'm absolutely thrilled! Thank you, honey!"

"Oh, I'm glad, baby. I'm really glad. Hey, remember that adjustable bed you liked at that furniture store we walked through like two years ago? I called them and ordered one along with their best gel-top mattresses. They're being delivered this evening along with new linens and everything. So, if you want to pack a bag we can start living there this weekend."

"Oh... wow!" I gasped at the suddenness of everything. "How are the delivery guys getting in?"

"There's a key code on the door by the garage. I just drove out and changed it from what it used to be. Now, it's a new eight digit code. Your birthday."

Honest to God, I thought I was going to cry.

"Oh, Opie."

"There's another code for the delivery guys, too, and we'll get rid of that as soon as they're gone. So - am I a super hero, or what?"

"Captain America, Iron Man and Thor all rolled into one." I said, smiling from ear to ear. I noticed that Josie and Emma exchanged looks at that.

"Ok, Baby. Where are you headed, now?"

"Nordstrom's," Emma announced.

"Pretty, pretty dresses," Josie shouted.

"Gross," Opie joked. "Have fun, girls. Bye bye."

The call ended.

"Was that really my sister Penelope on the phone?" Josie asked.

"Yeah. Why?" Emma answered.

Josie shrugged. "Well... the voice sounded kind of deep. Manly, in a way. Then, there was all that 'baby' stuff. That sounded kind of like a guy, too. Not to mention the fact that the person on the phone seemed repulsed by the idea of dresses."

"Well, then that was definitely our sister Penelope." Emma laughed.

Josie turned and looked at me. "How are you enjoying your foray into girlishness?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I certainly understand it's appeal. It is awfully fussy, though."

Josie smiled. "Yeah, but look how pretty you get to be. That makes it all worthwhile, doesn't it?"

I smiled. "I don't know. Maybe it does. I'm not sure if this is how I want to live my life, but it's fun to spend time with you guys."

"Well, unlike our sister, we are most definitely not 'guys,' Kimberly." Josie laughed.

"Now... as for Opie, though," Emma said, cautiously, as she glanced at me in the rear view mirror. "I don't think that 'androgynous' Opie is coming back, Kimmy. I think 'manly' Opie is here to stay. Can you live with that?"

I just sighed. "You know, you two never seem to get it. I love your sister. It doesn't matter to me if she's got long hair and wearing a dress or short hair and wearing a Brooks Brothers suit, I love her and that's the end of the story. She can be whoever she wants to be and I will never ask her to change."

"That's awfully sweet," Emma said, with sisterly kindness, "but she's asking you to change, isn't she?"

I shrugged. "That's not how it started, but... I think what she's asking... actually, not asking... what she's encouraging me to do is to explore a part of myself that I found accidentally when I first put on that nightgown."

"A part of yourself that she finds exciting." Emma pointed out.

"Because she likes being a guy," Josie pointed out.

"Which is something she stumbled into as well." I pointed out. "I think that Opie feels like... if she found joy as a man, maybe I could find joy as a woman."

"And do you?" Josie smiled.

"I'm certainly having some fun today."

Now, I'd been to plenty of stores before - the most fancy of which, probably, being Filene's or JC Penny's, but they were NOTHING like Nordstrom's. This place was like a chrome plated shrine to consumerism. Everything was beautiful. Everything was well made. Everything gorgeous. And everything was outrageously expensive!

We hadn't even reached the clothing department and I'd already spent six hundred dollars on makeup, hair products, skin creams and tools I'd never heard of - a rotating makeup organizer, a jade facial roller, makeup brushes, a lighted makeup mirror, a mascara shield, an eyebrow kit, a heated eyelash curler, and a derma-planing tool - Yes, dermaplaning. A phrase that still scares the liver-and-lights out of me.

Finally in the women's clothing area, it still seemed a good long while before we reached the area featuring the cocktail dresses, and even then, I was overwhelmed by the vast variety of styles, colors and fabrics. My God, growing up in men's departments, and without much female input in my life, I couldn't imagine that anyone put this kind of thought and energy into their clothing. I have to admit that the challenge of finding the right dress, not just for me, but for my sisters-in-law was a very exciting prospect!

They began grabbing a dress here and there, asking opinions on shapes and colors and trusting each other's input. It was fascinating. They were a team. A well oiled shopping machine and they taught me as we moved slowly, very, very slowly down the aisles.

This was very different than my usual, "Hmm, I guess I'll go with charcoal grey this time. Yeah, two button coat, no pleats on the pants... these will do,' style of shopping I'd always done. It was really exciting and fun!

Finally, we were in the dressing room - and that's what I mean, too. WE were in THE dressing ROOM. All three of us in one room trying on dress after dress. Emma and I were similar in size, of course, so some of the things chosen for her were passed to me and vice-versa. There was a lot of harsh, yet loving, remarks between sisters, but they were kinder to me... at least at first. Eventually, I was subjected to some pretty harsh teasing, too.

"Geez, Kim, you have no tits or ass at all," Josie shook her head at one point. "How is that even possible."

I was wearing a clingy, silver dress that she's pulled for me. "How is it possible that I would have them?" I pushed back.

"Well, what the heck do you sit on, for crying out loud?"

"Stop it," Emma interrupted, a little peeved. "We can get her a padded panty if we need, but I don't want to do that unless we have to. It might get uncomfortable, wearing it all night." She stared at me for a moment. "I have an idea, though. Kimmy, I'm a C cup, but I think that might be a bit much to tackle right out of the gate. With that push-up bra you're wearing and the padding, you're barely an A cup. It's cute one you, but I think a B would look a little more... sexy. Womanly, you know? What do you say. This may be your one and only night to go put and play as a woman. Do you want to play with the big girls?"

I thought about it for a second or two and shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

"Ok. Hang on a minute." Emma disappeared out of the dressing room wearing the dress she'd just tried on.

"Where's she going?" I asked.

"To get you some tits, I'd guess," Josie smirked. "Here. Zip me up."

I did.

"Kim... I just want you to know... I really admire what you're doing for Opie."

I shrugged as I took off the silver dress. "Like I keep saying, I love her."

She nodded. "I love my husband, too, Kim, but if I bought him something really butch to wear and he made me wear it, I probably would have spit in his eye and walked out on him. You just rolled with it. And now look at you. You're like a whole new person." She looked in the mirror. "Do you like this?"

It was a yellow mini dress that clung to her like a second skin and made her look like a movie star. "I do. You look gorgeous in it."

She smiled at me in the mirror. "Thank you, Kim. You're a very pretty girl, you know."

"Thanks," I laughed, assuming she was teasing.

"I mean it. Look at yourself. I mean, you're a kind of cute guy, Kim, but as a girl... Damn, honey. You are are a good looking girl. You know what I think? I think that you and Opie are meant to be together, but that you were born the wrong sexes. That Opie was always meant to be the man and you were always meant to be the woman and somehow... the universe is just correcting itself."

"Josie..." I sat on the bench and looked at myself in the mirror and thought about my wife and how manly she suddenly looked last night and her statement that she was going to live that way form then on. "... right now... I'm not really sure who I am, but I think that... I kind of like the person I'm looking at in the mirror better the person who I used to see. I mean... this person doesn't look as... awkward and... out of place. Maybe it's because of all of the help that you and Em have given her, but the girl in that mirror... she looks... right... she looks... pretty... she looks... like..." I couldn't find the right words.

Josie sat beside me and put her arm around me. "She looks like you. Like the real you."

"Yeah... I think that maybe she does."

We sat there in silence for a few moments until Josie, a person I had known for years, but felt as if I barely knew, kissed the side of my head, hugged me and whispered, "Well, thank God we found her, then."

"Alright, here we go," Emma said, as she exploded back into the dressing room with a box in her hand. "I had the clerk call over and have these sent. Now, if you like these, we'll attach them for tomorrow night, but for now, here." She handed me a very pretty bra, but one with cups that were obviously bigger than those in the bra I was wearing.

"What do I do with this?"

"Put it on," she said.

"Here," Josie said as she turned me and undid the hooks at the back of my bra. Then she put the new bra on me. "It's a little empty," I pointed out, although it did push up my extra skin and had a shape of its own.

"Ah, but that's where these come in," Emma gloated as she opened the box to reveal two very real looking breasts.

"Yikes," I said out loud. "They look real."

"They cost enough to be real," Emma laughed. "Here... just put them in your bra for now. If the look good with the dress, you can put them on for real tomorrow. If you like the way they look, you can wear them for a couple weeks without taking them off."

She inserted them into the cups of the new bra I was wearing and their size and heft immediately made me stand somewhat differently. Straighter.

"Oh, I like them already," Emma nodded. She looked around and grabbed a shimmering, black dress that she had tried on, but I had not. "Let's try this."

She unzipped it and had me step into it. Even before it was zipped up, I knew we'd found exactly the right dress for that Friday night.

But when the zipper closed, my heart leapt.

The silk lining felt elegant, but the look of the dress was amazing. Two inch shoulder traps led to a V neck line that showed a cleavage that hadn't existed moments earlier. Silver threads sparkled almost magically in the deep black material. The fitted bodice hugged me tightly and made me look small and elegant and feminine. The back was also V shaped and revealed lots of creamy skin. There were no sleeves to interrupt the slender lines of my arms.

Then there was the skirt.

It was beautiful.

The same magical black material with the sparkling silver thread, but so different. Not fitted at all. It was flounced and flounced and flounced and... oh, my, it was just so beautifully bell shaped. It barely touched me! It made me want to swirl! I couldn't help it! I swayed a few times and then I swirled right around. The feeling of the magical skirt, with its hem falling three or four inches beyond my finger tips, twisting around my legs and then relaxing was the most amazing thing I'd ever felt in my life! I adored it. This was it! I'd found it! I'd found my dress!

"Well," Josie giggled, "I think you worked your magic, Fairy Godmother. Cinderella seems to love her dress for the ball."

That actually snapped me out of the spell that the dress had cast on me. I know I blushed a little, but I didn't get embarrassed because both of the girls hugged me, happy that I was happy.

Shoes were next. We all had new dresses, so we all needed new shoes. A pair of three in heeled, strappy sandals, also in glittery black, were chosen for me. I was surprised by how comfortable they were and how easily I was able to walk in them. I was, of course, back in my baby blue dress and the bra I'd worn shopping. For some reason, the girls insisted that when I wore my breast forms and my posture improved even more, I'd find walking even easier. I don't know why that should be so, but I accept it.

They argued about whether I should wear hosiery or not and the final decision, Josie's choice, in fact, was no. I had the legs to pull it off and I shouldn't over complicate things with unnecessary clothing.

One last stop for a very sexy, black bra and panty set for me, as well as new undies for them - I was suspecting that women disposed of garments rather than wash them since new undies, dresses and shoes were needed for all of us - and we were headed out. Honestly, I was exhausted. I didn't know how women did it all the time. Emma and Josie seemed ready to continue shopping for hours more, but we headed west again, back home.

I was a little surprised when we didn't turn towards our town, though.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To see your new house," Emma smiled at me through the mirror.

"Oh, yay!" Josie clapped her hands and turned to face me. "Are you excited?"

"Overwhelmed is more like it. I mean, a week ago, I was a happy, little, weird insurance nerd with a somewhat plain wife. Now, my wife looks like my husband, I look like her wife, I'm unemployed, she's worth a fortune and we're starting over in the house of my dreams. Yeah, I'm excited, but I'm scared, too, and I just hope that we're doing the right thing."

"Well, I have to tell you," Emma said, with what was obviously mock irritation, "I'm not at all happy that you're going to be fifteen minutes further away from my place. I like being able to drop by anytime."

"You can still do that," I said, actually a little saddened by the thought that I might not see Emma as frequently."

"Yeah, but you'll be closer to Sam and me," Josie pointed out. "Only about seven minutes up the road, I think."

"Hmm," Emma grunted. "Looks like I'm in the market for a new house."

In no time, we were pulling into the driveway of our new house. It was a truly grand place and my heart leapt as it always had when I looked at it.

We parked by the garage and walked to the doorway in the hall between the garage and the house. There was keypad on the doorknob plate. I entered my birthdate and was surprised that the knob turned and allowed us to enter. As soon as we entered the kitchen and turned on the lights, the girls oohed and ahhed at the place - and they are in and out of houses that are for sale all day every day. That felt good and made me excited.

As I showed them around, the place started to feel more... I don't know... like... mine! I nearly bounced from room to room, showing them the things that I found the most beautiful the previous day.

When I reached the master bedroom, I laughed when I saw the two deflated mattresses on our new adjustable bed frames. Emma explained that the foam mattresses took about twenty four hours to fully expand. It was just as we got there that we hear the sound of men's laughter down stairs. We looked around, confused and headed in that direction to see who was there. We found the source in the kitchen where Opie and Sam each had a bottle of Sam Adams IPA as they too looked around the house.

"Here they are!" Opie smiled. "My three favorite ladies." She kissed each of their cheeks and then kissed me a bit more passionately than perhaps was appropriate in front of her sisters. "So, did you all find pretty dresses for tomorrow night?"

All three of us were baffled by the scene before us. Emma spoke for us, though. "Yes, we did. I think you'll be very pleased with how Kim looks for your big night, but... can you please explain how Sam knows all about the all new Opie and Kim before Josie has even seen him?"

Opie smiled and nodded. "Ok. So, it's not uncommon for me to run into Sam at this coffee shop I stop at sometimes. Since I never stopped in guy-mode before, I'd never run into him as PJ."

"PJ?" Josie asked.

"That's her work name," Emma explained.

"Yeah," Opie nodded. "So, this morning I see him and we make eye contact and we nod and I can see that he has that 'do I know you' look in his eye, so I figured it was as good a time as any to explain things, so - long story short, Sam knows everything, and we just went and got a couple of pretty slick Italian suits for tomorrow night." She held up her bottle in a toast to her brother-in-law and Sam returned it.

"We did! And I have to say that PJ is a pretty awesome dude and Kim... Damn... Kim... Damn." Sam smiled and nodded.

"Eloquent as always," Emma shook her head. "So, we all know and my date doesn't need to know so that leaves mom. When do you intend to tell her?"

Opie sipped her IPA. "On the way down, I guess."

Emma slapped Opie square in the chest. "Oh, like hell you are."

"Ow!" Opie shouted. "There's still breasts in there you know!"

"Well maybe you should have them removed and give them to Kimmy," she said, tersely. "I'll tell you something, though, young lady," she laid into Opie, "I have no intention of sitting in a van or a limo or whatever you're renting for an hour or more while you explain to our judgmental mother why you suddenly look like 'Joe Average' and Kimmy looks like 'Miss America.' Do you understand me? You find the time to drag you hairy, manly ass over to her place tomorrow morning and you explain this situation to her and make sure that YOU are the only one who's made to feel uncomfortable by it. You got me? NOT me. NOT Josie. NOT Sam and ESPECIALLY NOT KIMMY! Are we on the same page, little sister?"

Now, Opie may have towered over Emma and Opie may have taken on a male persona and Opie may have just been given a position that put her in charge of thousands of people, but Opie had always been Emma's little sister and Emma had always called the shots in their family. 'What Emma says goes.' That was the golden rule among the three sisters and the look on the face of the cocky, masculine PJ disappeared pretty quickly and it was replaced by the Opie I'd always known - Emma's sister. She looked at the counter top and nodded. "Yeah. We're on the same page. I'll take an early lunch and go see her."

"Alright then," Emma said. Then she took a breath. "I'm sorry I slapped you in the boobs. I guess I forgot they were there."

Opie chuckled at that. So did the rest of us.

"Hey," Sam said, "can I see the rest of the house?"

"Sure," Opie smiled and we headed off into the house again, friends again and that's the way it was with Opie and her sisters. They could be upset with each other one second and all was forgiven the next. I loved that about them.

As we wandered through the sprawling first floor, Opie never took her arm from around me. First it was around my shoulder, but then it was lower on my back, playing with the ruffles of my sleeves or caressing my bottom. It was always surreptitious, but it was none stop.

As we reached the staircase, she looked at her phone. "Oh, hey, I need to talk to Kim about something for a moment. You guys go ahead up. We'll meet you up there in a few minutes." She smiled, but looked as if there was something important on her phone. So, the others went up and I followed her back towards the living room.

"Is everything ok?" I asked.

"Not really," she said.

'Great,' I thought. 'I'd just started to get happy about the house being ours. What had happened, now!' "What's wrong?"

She turned as we entered the living room and smiled. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now?"

I smiled. "Really? Thanks. Why are we in here?"

She leaned in and kissed me. "Kim... that dress and the way your hair looks and," she pulled my hair back a bit, "your ears look so pretty with earrings and," she took my hands, "your nails are just... Kimmy, I just need you, right now."

"What!?" I looked around. "You mean... you want to have sex? Here? Now? With them upstairs?"

She grinned and shook her head, then gently lifted me and laid me down so that I was on my back on the huge, sectional sofa. She knelt next to me and gently lifted the hem of my dress, revealing my panties.

"Opie," I gasped, excited, but nervous. "They're just upstairs."

"I won't take long." She grinned and lowered the waist band of my panties. "Kimberly Bristol, you are the most beautiful, feminine, exciting thing I have ever seen. Do you know that?"

I couldn't help but smile and gasp as she kissed the hairless skin of my lower abdomen and guided my penis out from where it had been nestled between my legs.

Now, a hand job from Opie was a very rare event. As I believe I'd mentioned several times, our sex life, until that precious Monday evening, had been very mundane. Satisfying and loving, but mundane.

"When I saw you in this dress, Kim... my heart nearly stopped. I swear, if you saw a girl that looked as beautiful as you, you'd have a hard on so stiff you couldn't walk."

Ok, it was crude, especially for a woman, but maybe she was trying out her manly sex talk. I didn't know. All I really knew was that my wife, who's always had a bit of 'a thing' about touching my penis was fondling it like a pro, now, and I loved how it felt - and I loved that she loved how I looked.

"You must know how beautiful you look, don't you?" She kissed me, right next to the base of my penis. "Don't you?" She did it again. "Don't you?" She did it again.

I could only groan and gasp. Her kisses were so close to my penis. She hated blowjobs. She hated the very idea of blowjobs. She called them demeaning. When they'd occur in a movie, she'd shake her head and mutter, "Here we go." Now, she was teasing me with kisses that nearly touched my shaft.

"Kimberly Bristol, you are most beautiful girl I know." She whispered as all of a sudden, with no warning whatsoever, she devoured me. She wrapped her mouth around my penis and took me so deeply that I had to be in her throat. I don't know how she did it! I'd never been with another woman and as far as I knew, Opie had never been with another man, but if this sex act wasn't the act of an experienced woman, then it was the act of a woman so caught up in heat of passion that she was acting on pure instinct and not thinking at all.

My breathing was becoming erratic and I was feeling lightheaded. I knew that I wouldn't last long. I was about to tell Opie that I needed to pull out of her mouth when I felt it. It was a feeling unlike anything I'd ever felt in my life. So unexpected. So shocking. So intimately violating when a finger from the hand that had been caressing the areas between the tops of my legs suddenly entered deeply into me and touched something that sent me into waves of ecstasy I didn't know existed before. I struggled to catch a breath as I thrust and I pumped and went blind with rapture.

Opie kept her mouth locked onto me as I bucked and shot and spasmed and finally slowed down as my elation subsided and my breathing returned to normal. She slurped as she pulled free of me and with a churlish smiled made a show of swallowing as she pulled a handkerchief from her back pocket. After a quick dab of her lips, she carefully cleaned up the residue left behind around my sex organ.

"There we go," she said as she finished up. "Nice and dry." She tucked me back down and raise my panties back up. As she lowered my dress and helped me up, she smiled and said, "I meant what I said, you know. I've never seen another girl as pretty as you look, now, Kim. I'm not saying that to put pressure on you. I'm saying it so that you know how how I feel."

She stood and I thought she was going to offer me a hand, but instead, she put one arm under my arm pits and the other under my knees and lifted me effortlessly off the couch, surprising the hell out of me. I continued to be carried until we reached the foot of the stairs where I was finally set down and allowed to walk on my own, again.

As I climbed the stairs in front of her, it occurred to me; Opie had always loved me, but I don't think she'd always been all that attracted to me is a sexual way before. Not when I was presenting as a guy, I mean, but now that I looked like a girl, or, more appropriately, a woman... and she was discovering her own 'inner man,' well I guess that she was just becoming a more sexual person. Maybe, since I was submitting to her more aggressive sexual hungers, I was was discovering my own 'inner woman' too and also becoming a more sexual person. Those were good things, right?

My thoughts were interrupted when Opie said, "You know, Kim, when we were growing up, Emma and I used to look at how pretty Josie was and we'd say, 'Some girls were just born to wear dresses and Josie is one of those girls.' Well, Kimmy, you're one of those girls, too. The way that dress hangs on you and the way you move in it... you just look so..."

"Ok, ok, ok," I said as I reached the landing and waited for Opie to catch up. "Look, honey, I admit, I like the dresses. I do. And I feel really good about myself - and us - when I look like this, but what you're asking me to do - to give up my life and start all over again as a woman for the rest of my life... it's tempting and I am considering it, but let me make up my mind on my own, ok. Don't try to flatter me into it."

She smiled and put her arm around me. "I'm sorry. Honestly, that's not what I meant to do. I'm just amazed at how quickly you've become such a beautiful woman. I just want you to know that."

"Ok," I smiled and stood on tip toe to kiss her cheek. "Now, on a different topic, when I walked through the house with the girls before, I was thinking that we need at least three Christmas trees down stairs."

"Three?"

"Yeah. One in the foyer, one in the living room and one in the solarium. Then upstairs, I think we need one in the foyer up there, too. You'll see it from the street if we put one there.'

"So, four trees?"

"Well, maybe five. A small one in the lounge room near the back of the upstairs. I think you can see that window from the side road."

"Ok. Five trees, then."

"And all the windows that don't have a tree need one of those electric candles. You know the ones I mean?"

"Sure. Window candles, ok. Anything else? It is almost August. We need to get everything we need pretty quickly."

"Oh, shut up," I giggled as I elbowed her.
 
 
To Be Continued...

We caught up with everyone in the third bedroom. They were all impressed with the house and were making suggestions about use of space and paint colors, etc. The funny thing, though, was that the sisters were making sisterly suggestions about drapes and fabrics and things like that to me - not Opie.

Stranger, still. I liked it that way. I liked being included.

As we headed out of that room, Josie held me back and whispered, "Umm, Kimmy, I wasn't eavesdropping or anything, I was just coming to see if everything was alright with you two, but I heard you tell Opie that you hadn't made up your mind about being a woman."

I nodded.

"But... didn't you tell me that when you looked at yourself in the mirror now you saw the real you?"

I sighed. "I did, Josie, and I do, but it's all very confusing."

"Yeah, but, honey, if THIS Kim is THE REAL Kim... end of story, right?"

"Josie, it's becoming a whole new person."

"So? We become whole new people all the time, don't we? I mean, you're one person at home and another at work. You're one with one group of friends and another person with another group. When you were a kid, you were one person in school and another person after school. This is no different."

"It's entirely different, Josie," I said, shocked. "I'd be changing sex."

"No you wouldn't. You'd still be a guy. Just a guy who's living as a girl."

"So a girl to everyone except me."

"So what?"

"So what!? How can all three of you be this casual about this kind of thing? Your mom certainly isn't like this. Are you just expectantly tolerant of alternative lifestyles?"

Josie shrugged. "Probably not. Until today, I would have guessed that Opie was pretty conservative about gender roles and when I told Emma I was was going to hold you back to talk to you, she told me to shut up and mind my own business, so... like I said... probably not. It doesn't matter, though, Kim. I'm only talking about you. I'm looking at you and I see how happy and how pretty you look this way and I see how happy you look when you look this way. And I see how happy you look when you're with Opie looking the way she does as PJ - Well, HE does as PJ, I guess. Kim... this IS the real you. You said so yourself. I'll say this one more time and then I'll shut up forever. Please. Don't forsake the real you to protect some fragile sense of male pride. Embrace THIS Kim. THIS is the REAL Kim and you know it."

She kissed my cheek and hugged me and we went to join the others, leaving me there to ponder what she'd said for a moment before I followed. I looked at the room before I shut off the light and thought about the suggestions that the girls had made to make it prettier. It looked as if the previous resident had been a young man and the girls had suggested that some color on the walls, some ruffles on the windows, some flowers here and there and just a little 'dressing up' would make it so much nicer. 'Kind of like me,' I thought, and I shut off the light.

Before we left the new house, Emma went to her car and returned with a large, peach colored head band with a big, floppy bow on it, explaining that, since the next day was an important day, I should wear the headband to bed so that I did as little to my hair damage as possible. "For God's sake, don't put it in a ponytail!" She chided as she headed to the door.

She stopped, though and turned to Opie, looking unusually serious. "Listen, Opie... be sure to talk to mom, ok. I really don't care if she's a bitch to me and Josie. We're used to it, but..." she looked at me, then back at Opie. "... Kimmy's working really hard to make tomorrow night special for you. Don't let mom ruin that for her. Ok?"

"Ok." Opie responded, but she seemed more irritated by the reminder than touched by the sensitivity of her sister.

Emma just shook her head at Opie, blew me a kiss and left.

The fact that she'd used a feminine pronoun to describe me had not escaped me, but the kindness that she was showing me, had not escaped me, either, and that was what I focused on.

As I was about to leave, I took one last look around the grand house, shook my head and sighed. "You are just beautiful," I muttered. "Just beautiful."

"You seem more excited, now," Opie smiled as we drove home.

"I guess it seems more real, now," I smiled back. "Just showing them around did that, I think."

She leaned over and kissed me. "I'm glad. I bought for you, Kim. It's your house."

"It's OUR house, Opie... but thank you."

We were nearly home when I asked, "Ope... No matter what, I can still call you 'Opie,' right? I mean, this 'PJ' name is your guy name, I know, but since 'Opie' was a boys name on TV, I can still call you that, right?"

"Sure, honey. I mean, that's what my sisters have always called me, too, so there's no way I'm ever going to get away from that name completely. If it ever comes up, I'll just treat it like I did last night and say that it's a family nickname, but I prefer 'PJ.'"

"And I assume you don't tell them that 'PJ' stand for Penelope Jane when they ask."

She chuckled. "You know, it's funny how seldom it comes up, but when it does, I say it stands for Paul James."

I nodded. "What do your payroll and HR records list your name as?"

Another chuckle. "PJ. It was easy to change. Just a one page form and Penelope Jane was gone from the record."

"And your License?"

"A little more paperwork, but it says PJ as well. It's been a pretty easy thing to do."

"So, exactly how long have I been married to PJ Reed?"

Opie sighed. "We're not going to end the day with a fight, are we?"

"I just want to know."

She took a moment. "I guess you've always been married to PJ. I've been PJ for..." she sighed again... "almost three years."

"Three years," I mumbled. "Three years. That's a lot to take in, Opie."

"I know, Kim. I'm sorry. I didn't intend to become this whole different person. I just thought that the name 'Penelope' was holding me back. When your name is Penelope, people don't view you as a viable candidate for a management position. They view you as a damsel in distress. Then, when they saw me, they certainly didn't think that my name and my general persona went together, nether did I, to be honest. Frankly, I always hated my name and 'Opie' was no better in a business setting, either. I worked with lots people, both men and women, who used their initials, so I gave that a shot and it worked almost immediately. Then, when I was mistaken for a guy and I didn't correct the managing director... well, things just took on momentum from there. Then one thing just lead to another and... here we are. I'm sorry. I never set out to become a man at work, I just sort of did and now... there's just no going back. And living one way at work and one way at home is just too difficult. I'm PJ full time, now, Kim. I'm sorry."

I nodded. "I get it. I'm not mad. I just need to get my head around it." I thought for a moment. "Is that the reason you didn't take my name when we got married?"

"No," Opie glanced at me. "I was very honest about that, Kim. I am very proud of my achievements at work. I just wanted to keep my last name."

I nodded, again. "And yet, when the realtor called me 'Mrs Reed' last night, you never corrected her."

"Ok, honey, that's true and I have no defense for that. I'm sorry. Look, babe, if you stay like this, I promise I'll never do that again. Really. I'm sorry. You'll be my wife, Ms Kimberly Bristol. Alright?"

"Alright. We'll discuss that when - and if - we reach that bridge."

We pulled into the driveway and then into the garage. Opie stopped the car and opened her door, but noticed that I wasn't getting out of the car. "Are you coming?" She asked.

"I was just thinking. Look, Opie, you know I love you and I am kind of fascinated with all of this girly stuff, but... do you ever intend to do anything to your genitals?"

"You mean do I want to become fully male? Have a penis? Actually have sex reassignment surgery? That's what your asking, right? Well... no. I have considered having breast reduction surgery - well that's a bit of a misnomer, I guess. I have considered having my breasts removed, but I'm not ready for that yet. Not by a long shot and I'd never do that with talking to you about it. But as for my sex organs - no. I never want to change that part of me, Kim, because that would interfere with my relationship with you. Ok?"

I nodded. "Ok. Thanks for being honest, Opie."

"What about you, though?" She asked.

I let out a nervous laugh. "Ope... I'm so scared of making any decision at all right now that something as radical as cutting off my penis isn't even in my consciousness."

She nodded. "Ok. I'm sorry. I know I've put a lot of pressure on you. I came to all of this gradually over a couple of years and I dropped it all onto you in a few days. I'm not being fair. Let's go to bed. We both have a long day before we go to Mohegan Sun tomorrow night. You have a day of primping and pampering and I have to go show my mother what her ugly daughter looks like these days."

"Oh, my God!" I said, as she slid out of the car. I got out as quickly as I could and caught up with her as she unlocked the door that led to the house. "Opie, how could you say something like that?"

She didn't even smile like she'd been joking. "Come on, Kim. You know my mother. She never pulled any punches. She may not have said it, but she made it very clear how she ranked her daughters. Emma was the good looking, organized, professional one, Penelope was the ugly, smart, serious one, and Josephine was the beautiful, cheerful one with the winning personality."

We were walking through the kitchen when I said, "Opie, your mother absolutely NEVER called you ugly."

She stopped and turned to face me. "Ok, I'll give you that, Kim. My mother never used the word 'ugly' to my face, but I cannot tell you how many times she did use the word 'plain' to my face. I think I was eleven the first time I was writing a report and I used a thesaurus to find a synonym for 'ugly.' You know what word I found? 'Plain.' Right there on the page of our Roget's Thesaurus. The word my mother used a million times to describe me and I suddenly realized it meant that she was calling me ugly."

I thought I was going to cry. I put my arms around her and hugged her. "I have never thought that, Opie. I always thought you were attractive. To me, you have always been everything I have ever wanted."

"I know that, Kim," she said as she hugged me back, "but you were always the only one. It's not easy to be ugly in a world that values beauty. To walk down a street and hear people snickering at you. To see your beautiful sisters and know that you'll look foolish if you even try to emulate their beauty. Being Penelope for thirty years was a daily grind for me, Kim. Being PJ has been a relief. Maybe I'm not movie star handsome, but at least I'm finally average looking. People may not be checking me out, but at least they're not gawking at me because I'm ugly."

She took my hand and looked down into my eyes with more sadness than I'd ever seen in her. "Kim... Finding you is the only good thing that ever happen to me until I became PJ and I love you more than I could ever express. I never should have lied to you. I never should have done things behind your back. I never should have lived a double life and I have no right to ask you to do what I'm asking you to do right now, but... I am. Please. Please just try to see how this all happened and get through tomorrow as my female counterpart and see if you can live that way. Then... whatever happens... we'll still be together. Ok?"

I nestled my forehead into her neck and shoulder. "Opie, you can do whatever you need to do, but you are never going to be without me. I promise you that."

It was an odd night. You'd have thought that after we'd had such a soul baring conversation, we might have just fallen asleep, but when Opie saw me in my nightgown with that headband with the floppy bow, she kind of went crazy with desire. We were like rabbits for an hour or more until I didn't have any more to give. I fell dead asleep in her arms where I remained until she shook me awake a little before seven the next morning.

"Hey, sleepy head," she whispered, her tie already tied around her neck. "You should get up. The girls will be here soon. I need to get going early so that I can take a long lunch and go see my mother."

"Ok," I muttered, as I pulled back the covers.

"By the way," she whispered and laughed a bit, "you should probably shower, too. We both kind of wreaked after last night's escapades. Now, I don't know an awful lot about these girly things that you're doing today, but my guess is that if you were supposed to wash your hair, Emma would have given you specific instructions to do so. So, maybe clip your hair up before you get in so that it doesn't get wet."

That bolted be upright. I'd seen Emma lay into Opie and I didn't want to start the day with her laying into me. "A hair clip? Where am I going to get a hair clip? I certainly don't have any and I've never seen you use one."

"Oh." Opie thought for a moment, then stood and had me stand in front of her with my back to her. Then, with surprising dexterity, she twisted my hair into a bunch and gathered it on top of my head, securing it with the headband. "There you go."

I glance at myself in the mirror on my bureau. "I didn't know you could do that!" I said, surprised.

"I may not have ever had any interest in girly hair, but I had two very girly sisters," she smiled. Then she kissed my cheek and grabbed her suit coat. "Gotta run, babe. Love you."

"Love you, too. Good luck with your mom!"

She glanced back from the doorway and rolled her eyes, then disappeared.

She was right about needing a shower. I hadn't really noticed it until I took off the nightgown, but then... whew! Besides, the shower was very reviving. While we had been out yesterday, the girls had insisted that I purchase several body creams and powders and a great deal of conversation had been spent on when to apply which and in what order, etc. So, after patting myself dry, I applied a rose scented cream to all of my body, from the neck down, then a similarly scented powder to the same area. Both were very soothing and the scent was absolutely lovely. I kind of loved the idea of smelling that way all day. Then I used a small amount of a face cream that I was told I should use about a half an hour before applying makeup. I didn't know when the girls were coming, but I figured they wouldn't be there for at least another hour.

So, imagine my surprise when I walked out of the master bath, naked as the day I was born, to find both of my sisters-in-law sitting my now made bed waiting for me. My first impulse was to cover myself, but since they'd both seen me naked the previous day, what was the point.

"We changed the sheets and put the soiled ones in the hamper," Emma said, matter of factly.

"Seemed like you had a good night," Josie smiled.

"We did," I admitted. "Thank you for changing the sheets. Umm... so... should I put on my new, black underwear now, or later." You know, when you're the only naked person in a room, it's always going to be awkward, but when you're the only naked guy in the room and you've been spending the last couple of days trying to learn how to be a woman and you're standing there in front of the two women, who happen to be your mentors, and your thing is just hanging limply out in front of you, well, it's a pretty awkward way to start your day.

"No, that's not until you dress for tonight. You'll put on your regular bra and panties this morning," Emma instructed, "but first, come lay on the bed."

Both of them got up and petted the bed.

A little concerned, I did as I was told. "What's this all about?"

"We want to put on your breasts," Emma explained.

She and Josie read the directions that came with the artificial appendages. Took measurements, made marks on my chest and applied some very cold adhesive to my chest before carefully applying the fake breast.

"Wow. They look so real," Josie said, poking them.

"You can keep them on for up two to weeks," Emma told me, "or remove them with the solvent whenever you want." She held up the bottle and then placed it on my bureau.

"Can I see them?" I asked, staring to rise.

"Not yet." Emma grabbed a bag from a local pharmacy.

"Why?"

"Last night, we watched some YouTube videos about how guys tape themselves." Emma explained.

"Tape themselves?" I was confused. "Like videotape?"

"No, silly," Josie laughed. "They tape their junk so their panties are nice and smooth."

"But they look fine when I tuck myself back, don't they?"

"The panties that Opie bought you look fine, yes," Emma explained, a bit miffed that I was questioning her, "but the panties you're wearing tonight have much less material."

"They're a thong," Josie said with way too much enthusiasm. "You're going to love them!"

"A thong! I didn't realize that when we picked them out."

"Don't worry," Emma smiled. "Josie's right. You will love them. Now, spread your legs and let me do this. Apparently, your testes will pop right back up into their cavities without much bother if we line them up correctly..." she began feeling around down there.

"My testes? Emma I think you may be taking things a little too... Ow!" Ok, it didn't really hurt that much. I think I shouted more out of surprise than pain.

"There's one."

"Emma, come on. Ow!"

"And there's the other. Wow, that was easy." She said, more to Josie than to me.

"Next time, let me try," Josie said.

"Ok," Emma agreed, as she opened a packet of medical gauze.

"Next time!?" I asked, shocked.

Josie just smiled and shrugged.

Emma handed Josie a roll of medical tape. "Here. Cut some strips about this long." She began to wrap the gauze around what had been until recently my most private of places and then decided that she couldn't see well enough. So she took a pillow and had me raise my butt up so she could put the pillow under my lower back. So, now, still naked, butt in the air, sisters-in-law looking at my penis, and butt, I presented a pretty picture. Classy, right? I had never thought we were this close, but I guess I was wrong!

Anyway, with my butt raised, the blood rushing to my head, my embarrassment level peaking at a thousand percent, I could not really hear everything that was being discussed down in my nether region, but the gist of it was that the tape needed to hold me in place, but be comfortable and not touch my legs because that would cause pulling when my legs moved. There also seemed to be a bit of secondary conversation that it might be nice if I were able to urinate as well, but that didn't seem to be the primary focus of the project.

"Alright. I think we're done," Emma said. "Stand up and let's take a look."

I stood and the girls both stared at my groin. They glanced at each other, then each had a small smile and then those smiles grew very, very wide.

"What?" I asked.

"Is it comfortable?" Emma asked.

I moved a bit. "Yeah. It feels fine, I guess. Why?"

Josie began to laugh. "Well, I don't think that Opie is going to sneak you off to the living room for a quick blowjob tonight."

The two exploded in laughter.

"Oh, my God, you saw!"

"Of course we saw it," Emma was close to hysterics. "You guys were gone for ten minutes. We thought something was wrong. We walked in there and Opie was gobbling you up like Thanksgiving dinner."

That sent Josie over the edge with laugher.

"Don't be embarrassed, Kimmy," Emma said, red faced with laughter. "We couldn't believe that Opie was being that passionate. Obviously, Opie loves you, that much is clear. Hell, it's your house. We didn't want to interrupt."

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God," I muttered as I held my face with both my hands. "Did Sam see, too?"

"No," Josie was catching her breath. "You don't seriously think we'd let any guy, even my husband, see our sister getting oral sex from her husband, do you?"

"Oh" I breathed. "Thank you." Then it hit me. "Did you just call ME your sister."

Josie took the headband out and let my hair fall, then guided me to the full length mirror. Just before we reached it she said, "Close your eyes."

I did and I felt her position me and wait.

"Kim... Emma and I talked for a long time last night. We love Opie and we are very blest to have Opie in our lives, but we realized that we need to stop calling Opie our sister. She is our brother."

Then I heard Emma on the other side of me say, "We love him and we will always love him, but he is our brother and when we thought about it, we realized that he kind of always has been our brother. We just never realized it."

"What we also didn't realize," Josie spoke again, "was that a long time ago, our brother had brought another sister into our family and we had foolishly squandered a lot of time we could have spent with her."

Emma said, "Luckily, this week we discovered that she was right there, living with Opie, waiting to be our sister. If she's willing to, we'd love for her to be our sister from now on."

"Open your eyes, Kim," Josie said.

I did and there she was. That woman who'd been evolving all week was right there in the mirror between Emma and Josie and now she was fully developed. Her hair was was not well brushed, but it was layered and nicely colored. She wasn't wearing makeup, but the way her face was framed, her Asian features were highlighted. Her breasts matched her skin tone perfectly and sat perkily on her chest. Her hips may have been been just a bit narrow, but between those, below her belly button, where her legs joined her torso, where her smooth, slightly pale yellow, hairless skin curved under, hung...

...nothing.

She was not a man pretending to be a woman. She was a woman.

"What do you think?" Emma asked.

"I don't know what to think," I said, truthfully. "I don't even know who that is."

"That's Kim," Josie said. "Our sister."

It was at that point that I realized that my eyes were watering, so I sniffed back my emotions and smiled.

"Ok, come on," Emma said. "We have to run out to The Brookfields before we go to the salon. Josie, get her some undies."

"Wait, why are we going to The Brookfields?" I asked, as Josie handed me a pair of lacy panties.

"Emma's looking at a house near yours," Josie said, holding a bra for me.

"It's near both of your houses," Emma said.

"It's almost a mile from our house," Josie said. "It's next to your new house."

"Seriously!? That's awesome! Opie will be thrilled!" I said, excited.

"We'll see," she winked. "Let's take a look at it first. I want to be near you and Josie. Opie, too, I guess, but I'm not entirely sure how thrilled that will make Opie - but that's Opie's problem." She smiled wickedly as if upsetting Opie might make it even better.

When we left the house, I was once again wearing a dress provided by Emma. It was a dark red dress with lots of little bright flowers scattered all over it that pulled on over my head with no zippers or buttons. It bloused loosely about me, but it had this wide, smocked, elastic section just below the bust that gave the dress shape. The lining was the softest material I'd ever felt, of course my hairless body was very sensitive, too, and the chiffon material that formed the dress' top was also elegantly soft and wonderful. The neckline was a V neck, modest, but wide on the shoulder and the sleeves were short and as loose as the bodice and the skirt, which ended at my knees. Emma said that she'd picked the dress as a statement that I was an important woman and that the event I was attending required the salon's full attention. She also pointed out that I'd be able to lower the dress and step out of it after my hair and makeup was done, rather than pull it over my head.

So, out the door we went, and back to The Brookfields. Now, I had only been to Josie's once and it was dark, so I wasn't sure where it was. I was surprised to see that it was very close to our new house. I mean, it was nearly a mile from it, but closer than I would have ever guessed. I don't think that Opie realized how close it was, either.

So, our house was very close to the corner of another street. When we turned that corner, the property that Emma wanted to see was just there, one house down. It actually abutted our property. It was a really pretty bungalow from the nineteen twenties with a second structure, a rather small in-law house, nearer the front of the property. It was a pretty big property, actually, especially considering the size of the home she was living in, which was a little, two bed room place on a postage stamp sized lot.

"Oh, it's pretty," Josie gushed.

"It is," I said.

"I like it, too," Emma, said. "And if it I like the inside, it passes inspection and they accept my offer, I'll move my office into that inlaw house out front. That'll be nice."

Long story short, she loved the house and made arrangements to have the property inspected later that morning. She also made us swear not to tell Opie until everything was solidified.

From there, we were off to the salon.

Now, the previous day, I had been the subject of a lot of discussions, so I kind of expected to just sit down and have things go smoothly.

No.

Emma showed my stylist pictures of my dress and discussed different hair ideas. She felt that my hair should be in an up-do, while Josie felt it should be down. The stylist asked me for some input and I sat there like a lump and shrugged. "Whatever you think is best," was my reply, which probably didn't help sell the look of confidence that Emma hoped to instill by dressing me the way she had.

Eventually, about an hour later, the back of my hair was woven into a rather loose bun with a sparkling silver rope woven through it to coordinate with the silver sparkles of my dress. I thought it was very pretty, but I was told by the girls to just wait until I saw the final product with the dress and makeup.

Before makeup, we had a quick lunch at a bistro near the salon. It was nice. Not crowded. A light salad and a cup of soup with a lot of conversation about how Opie might be getting along with their mother. We'd almost finished when, as if on cue, Emma's phone rang and she sighed.

"It's mom."

"Ohh, put it on speaker," Josie giggled, but Emma glanced my way and shook her head.

She pressed the 'accept' button. "Hi, mom.

Yes, I knew Opie was going to see you today.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes, I know.

Yes, I have seen him.

Mom, Opie is living as a man. The proper pronoun is 'he.'

Well, what you think and what is appropriate are not the same thing in this situation.

Well, did he explain how this all came about through work?

So, you understand that he would never have had the opportunity to have this amazing position if they thought that he was a woman named Penelope, right?

Mom, it's a hell of an opportunity and one that Opie has worked hard for. We owe it to him to support him.

Well, I disagree and if you are going to take that attitude, maybe you should stay home tonight. This is Opie's night and it's Opie's treat. If you're going to take his money and ruin the evening for everyone else, then just stay home. Ok?

No, I'm not being flippant, mom, I'm asking you to do the right thing.

Yes I have, and she looks great.

That's not fair, mom. You haven't even seen her.

She hasn't made that decision, yet.

Yes, she will and I assure you that you will not be able to tell the difference between Kim and any other female there. She looks absolutely beautiful.

Well, it's a new world, mom. You're going to have to get used to it.

Ok, but you have to promise to behave yourself.

No insults to anyone? No rude remarks? No double entendres? You just show up and pretend that you're a kind and supportive mom, right?

Alright, then. I think the plan is that Josie and I are going to drive over to Opie's because we're not on the way to the highway. Then we'll pick you up on the way.

Ok.

Love you, too.

Bye bye."

'Well?" Josie asked. "Do you think she'll behave?"

Emma snickered. "Has she ever? I think she'll keep her judgmental comments to a minimum, though." Then she looked at me. "You know mom, Kimmy. She doesn't have a lot of filters. Hopefully Opie prepped her well."

Just then, Emma's phone rang again. "Ohh, it's the house inspector." She answered it. Spoke and listened just a bit before checking the time and doing a quick calculation. "That sounds great. No. We can be there in fifteen minutes. Thanks, Max."

She disconnected the call. Stood and told us to hurry and follow. "Come on. I need to go buy that house before someone else does."

"But we need to get our makeup done," Josie whined.

"I'll call the salon from the car and tell them we'll be a little late. We've already put at least two thousand dollars on Kimmy's card in the last two days. I'm sure they'll be accommodating."

"Wait... what?" I asked as we hurried out the door. "How much have we spent?"

"Opie said to get 'the works,'" Emma said, climbing into the driver's seat. "It's costly."

I climbed into the backseat thinking that I should have used one of the cards I share with Opie, then.

Emma got to The Brookfields in record time, all the while coordinating things on the phone. Our makeup appointments were delayed and when we arrive at the house, the inspector and the realtor were waiting. Emma, of course dealt with home purchases every day, so things went very smoothly. She wrote the inspector, Max, a check and then surprised me by giving him a peck in the cheek and saying, "Be at my place at five, ok?"

I glanced at Josie, who smiled and raised her eyebrows. Max was a very handsome man - tall, broad shouldered, close cropped, chestnut brown hair and a bushy beard - but not at all the kind of guy I would have thought Emma would have been attracted to. If I'd have had to pick a guy for Emma, I would have picked someone... neater... better groomed. A professional man with a career instead of a tradesman. Someone like Sam or Opie. Max might be great, but I just found him surprising.

Wait... did I just compare Opie to another man? I did, didn't I?

"Ok, we're all set," Emma smiled. "We're all officially neighbors!"

"That's awesome!" Josie shouted and hugged her, pulling me into the embrace as well.

"Before, we go, come outside for a minute," Emma said, excitedly.

We walked out the door and into the backyard, then to the back fence, a low, picket affair that faced the property that Opie had just purchased for us.

"Now, I was just thinking, and I know this is a little presumptuous, but maybe, if Opie doesn't get mad about it, we could take out a section of this fence and we could get a landscaping company to build a path of some kind between my house and yours. Then, when Josie and I are working here, we could walk through the yards to visit without walking on the streets. What do you think?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" I nearly cheered. I'd actually been a bit concerned about being lonely in that big house without a job. "We could have lunches in the solarium, or in the screen house on nice days. Oh, this is a great idea! Opie will love it!"

Josie laughed. "I can't wait to see Opie's face when you tell him you bought this house."

Emma laughed. "Let's not say anything tonight. We'll tell him over the weekend, but let me spring it on him. It'll be fun."

So, from there, it was back to the salon for makeup. Josie and Emma went first because Emma wanted to oversee the work being done on me, which I thought was kind of funny, but I should have expected as much. When the cosmologist had finished with Emma's makeup, Emma examined it in the mirror and was very critical, not in a mean way, mind you, and had the woman make changes to meet her demanding standards.

Then she turned her attention to Josie's face, while Josie sat and accepted any and all of Emma's suggestions without comment. The woman working on Josie complied with all of Emma's demands and in the end, each of her suggestions lead to a minor improvement and Josie, already a beautiful woman, was radiant.

Then it was my turn in 'the chair.' The woman worked hard and she discussed everything with Emma. Each pallet choice, each highlighted area, nuisance was debated for at least a solid minute before anything was applied to my face.

My eyes were of particular concern to all involved. Now, being of Japanese and British decent, I was used to having my almond shaped eyes mentioned and I also was used to having them called 'pretty' or 'delicate' or any other number of odd adjectives, but to me, they were just my eyes. Not as round as my dad's and not as oval as I remember my mom's. Just my eyes.

God, you'd have thought that they were a work of art, now. Their shape, the size of my eye lids, the length of my eye lashes, the way that the line of my eyelid met my cheek and forehead... everything was discussed, debated and touched and prodded and colored and wiped and re-colored and wiped and re-wiped a dozen times before Emma was happy.

I guess the makeup artist had done a good job, though, because Josie and a couple of the other ladies at the salon all looked at me and either nodded or shook their heads in approval. I even heard a few whispered 'wows' but I couldn't see what they were seeing, so I just assumed that I would like what I saw when they were done.

It took a long time, though. I'm not even sure how long I sat there. I do know that my face was brushed with pretty much every brush the salon owned, my lips were treated with something that was meant to plump them up and make them look thicker, my eyelashes were curled with a frightening device that looked like a medieval torture device, and my lips were even sprayed with a sealant of some sort so that my lipstick wouldn't come off when eating or drinking - or kissing or anything else I might choose to do, Josie teased.

Finally, I was able to see myself in a mirror and I was shocked. Yeah, I know I've said that before, but I was. With the makeup I wore yesterday I looked a bit more Asian than I did without and with my new layered hair cut, my face seemed to look a bit more Japanese than English, but with Emma's insistence that my best facial feature was my eyes, my father's heritage seemed to have vanished. What stared back at me from that mirror was a perfectly gorgeous Asian beauty. Pale, flawless skin, plump, bright red lips, huge, almond shaped eyes decorated with just the right amount of color, perfectly curled eyelashes and eyebrows that had been sculpted further than I'd expected and now made my face look softer and more feminine than anyone else in the entire salon - and there were a lot of girls and women in that salon!

"What do you think?" Emma asked.

"I'm speechless," I gasped.

"You look amazing," Josie said, patting my back. "Wait till you see yourself in your dress."

"Better yet," Emma chortled, "wait until Opie sees her in that dress. He's going to flip."

Judging by Opie's unrestrained randiness of the previous few nights, I was pretty sure she was right.

We made one last stop before heading home and that was to get me a very small clutch-purse to carry my license and a few other items with me that evening. Then there was a bit of awkwardness about how I was to be dressed and presented to Opie for the evening. First off, I needed to be helped into my underwear, shoes and dress. Then I needed to be monitored, because I was so inexperienced in the ways of wearing something as beautiful as the dress that had been chosen for me, I might do something stupid and wrinkle it. When I pointed out that a few wrinkles were inevitable since we had an hour long ride to Mohegan Sun Casino ahead of us, my remark was greeted with sad faces and shaking heads.

Finally there was the issue that both Josie and Emma wanted to be present when Opie saw me all decked out for my first big night out as a woman.

The solution for all of these matters was simple - We went to our house, got the dress, shoes and undies, then I was whisked away to Emma's place where she would oversee my preparations and babysit me until her date, Max, picked us up and took us to meet Opie back at our place.

"Sam and I will meet you here and follow you to Opie's," Josie said, as she prepared to leave. She looked at me and smiled, then hugged me and gave me a kiss on my cheek. "You look beautiful, Kim. Opie's going to be amazed when he sees you. Enjoy your first night of glamour." Then she winked at me. "I think it's the first of many, many more."

So, Emma handed me a couple of remotes and I sat on her couch and watched one of my favorite old sitcoms on Netflix while she went to get ready. I expected that she'd only be a few minutes. After all, her hair and makeup were already done, so all she needed to do was put on her new clothes and she'd be ready to go, right?

Apparently not.

I was partway through the third episode and it was already past four thirty when Emma came back down the stairs looking absolutely amazing in the dark ruby red cocktail dress and matching heels she'd bought - well, picked out, Opie had actually bought - yesterday. She carried a matching clutch, a small, paper cup and thin gold chain with a tiny black decoration hung from her finger.

She put down her clutch and the cup and motioned for me to come to her. "It took me a minute to find this necklace, but it'll match your dress beautifully. Turn around." She unlatched the chain and gently brought it around my neck, reattaching it behind my neck. "It's a black pearl. Not real expensive, but very pretty, or at least I've always liked it. When you're a single girl and you buy your own jewelry, you buy on a budget. There. That's nice." She said as she looked at the little pearl sitting just below the spot where my neck met my chest.

"Now, we really shouldn't do this, but I have the matching earrings for that necklace. They're soaking in alcohol in that cup. Let me grab a paper towel. I'm going to take out the studs they put in yesterday, give your ears a quick wipe down with the alcohol and put the pearl earrings in for tonight. I'll leave one of the little diamond studs in each ear, too, though. When we come home, or tomorrow if we're too tired tonight, we'll repeat the process and and put the studs back in."

About five minutes later, I had two black pearl pendants hanging from my ears, creating all new sensations. Then I was stripped naked and sent to the lavatory for one last pee before getting dressed.

The thong was definitely a whole new experience. Being a small guy, I received my share of wedgies in the middle school gym locker room, so the sensation of having a piece of material lodged into that particular part of my body was not completely unknown to me, but having my sisterin -law telling me how nice it made my butt look and emphasizing that with a swift, pretty hard slap, was indeed new. Also, the tiny patch of black lace where a woman's triangle of pubic hair should be, sitting prettily and seductively on my lower abdomen gave me a bit of head rush, too.

Then the very beautifully elaborate, lace covered bra was placed over my new breasts and I already felt sexier than I'd ever felt in my life.

I stepped into my magical, sparkly, black dress and shivered as Emma zipped it up and, with the breasts now being attached, rather than just sitting in my bra cups, it fit even more beautifully than before. The thing was, though, as I explained, the skirt bloused out away from my body. That combined with the thong left me feeling... naked... and very, very, very sexy.

The sparkly black, heeled sandals completed my look and when I saw myself in the mirror, the first thought that went through my head was, 'If I saw myself in a bar, I'd think - that girl is way too hot for me.'

"Oh, my God, oh, my God!" Josie squealed as she and Sam came through the door. "You are fucking gorgeous!"

"LANGUAGE, JOSIE!" Emma screamed, as appalled as the mother of a fouled mouthed twelve year old.

Josie grimaced at me. "You are though. Doesn't she look great, Sam?" She called louder to her husband.

"You look amazing, Kim," he smiled, seemingly unfazed by the strange happenings within his wife's family.

"Knock, knock," a big man said as he entered the open door. "Is it ok to come in?"

"Oh, hi, Max," Emma smiled.

He looked really handsome in his suit, but when we saw Emma in her dress, her let out an involuntary, "Geez! You look great! Am I underdressed?"

She smiled even more broadly and kissed his cheek, then made the introductions.

We were about to leave when my phone rang in my clutch. It was Opie. "Hi," I answered.

"Hi," he answered. "I assume you are with Emma and Josie since your dress is gone, but no one let me in on the plan. The limo limo is here."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."

"Oh, Damnit, I forgot to text him." Emma said when she heard me. "Give me the phone."

When she was on she said, "Ope, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot to text. Yeah, I have Kim. She's all set. We were just about to leave. We'll be there in ten minutes. Oh... ok. If that's ok. Ok. Ope. I'm sorry. The last thing I want to do is mess up your big night. We just got all wrapped up in getting Kim ready. Ok. See you in ten."

She handed me my phone back.

"I forget to tell Opie that I'd kidnapped Kimmy to get her ready for her first big night out," she announced to everyone else. "He's going to meet us here instead of us going there. He'll be right over."

Everyone nodded, but Max looked confused. He looked at Sam and asked, "I don't understand. Is this that girl Kim's first night out? She looks old enough to have been to a casino before."

I heard this and my stomach knotted up, hopping that whatever Sam said, he'd be gentle and cover for me. He glanced at me and winked, then he slapped Max on the shoulder. "There's one thing you'll learn about being involved with the Reed girls, Max... there's never a dull moment. Come on. Show me that Ford 150 I saw you driving into the driveway. I've always wanted to get one of those."

"Sure," Max said, thrilled to show off his late model beast of an American, gas-guzzling truck.

As they passed me, I whispered, "Thank you," to Sam, who squeezed my hand and smiled.

Very soon, the long, stretch, party limousine pulled into the driveway.

"Eww," Emma said, looking out the window. "A bit tacky, isn't it?"

"No, it's awesome!" Josie said, delighted. "Just like the one we had for my bachelorette party, remember?"

"I do," Emma shook her head. "Opie arranged that, too."

I grabbed my purse and headed to the door, but both woman grabbed me and insisted that I wait inside for Opie to come to me.

"You've worked too hard to get ready for him, to just walk out there," Emma said. "Let him come to you."

I watched as he shook hands with Sam and Max and chatted for a moment or two, then came towards the door.

"Get behind us," Emma insisted, and she and Josie quickly formed a wall in front of me.

"Hey," Opie smiled as she entered the living room. "All set and ready to go? Where's Kim?"

"She's right here," Emma said and then she and Josie stepped aside, revealing me in my new finery.

I think that Opie wanted to say something right away, but nothing came out. She just gapped at me in astonishment.

"Well, say something," Josie said, pushing on Opie's upper arm.

That seemed to wake her up a bit and she blinked, then smiled. "Geez, Kim... I mean... holy cow. You just look..." she held her arms wide. "Can I just hug you?"

I loved that, so I leapt into her arms and snuggled into her flattened chest. "You look so handsome," I said.

"I don't look nearly as good as you do, Kim. You look so beautiful."

"Doesn't she?" Emma smiled. "I think you both have found your best looks."

Josie produced her phone. "Come on, you two. Let me get a quick picture. You both look so good."

In a few minutes, the photo was taken and we were out the door and headed to pick up Mother Reed who's house on the way to the highway. The stretch limo could easily seat twelve, so the six of us were very comfortable and when Mother Reed showed up, it wouldn't be any more crowded, really.

When we were approaching her house, Emma looked at Opie and said, "So, everything is going to be ok, then?"

"Yeah, I think so," she replied, "I mean, you know mom..."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Opie, yes or no. Is she going to behave herself?"

I could tell that Max was confused, but I was just worried.

"Yes, Em. Yes, she will behave herself. She may take some coaching, but she will behave herself."

Emma shook her head.

Max looked at Sam. "Who are we talking about?"

"Their mom," he smirked.

"Oh," Max nodded. "What... heavy drinker? Big gambler? Something like that?"

Same laughed. "No. Big mouth."

That earned him slap on the arm from his wife. "Knock it off. We can say that. Not you."

"Can I ask one more question?" Max asked.

"Sure," Sam laughed, rubbing his upper arm.

"Who's Opie?"

"PJ is Opie," he said, matter of factly. "His sisters have always called him Opie. It's from an old TV show, or something."

"Ok," Max nodded, satisfied.

Emma took charge, as usual. "Alright, when we get there, Opie, you go get mom. Josie, you and I will take Kim around the side of the house. Opie, when mom comes down, bring her around the corner and let her see Kim."

"She's going to pee herself," Josie clapped her hands.

As the car turned up the driveway, Max looked at Sam once more. "PJ and Kim have been together a while, right?"

"Since they were kids." Sam smiled at the new guy's expression.

"I'm so confused."

"Don't sweat it, Max," Sam laughed. "There is alcohol in our near future."

We got out, leaving Max and Sam in the limo. I followed Emma and Josie around the side of the house - not really hidden, just out of the immediate sightline of someone coming out of the house - and Opie went to the front door.

I could hear the conversation as they descended the stairs.

"Well, at least you dress better as a man than you ever did as a woman," Opie's mother said.

"Alright, mom. Remember, you promised to behave. I chose to celebrate my success with my family, so try to get into the spirit of things, ok?'

"And I suppose that poor Kimberly is dressed up like some sort of drunkard on Halloween in an ill fitting dress and a stuffed bra, the poor thing. I bet you're putting that poor boy through hell with this game you're playing."

'Well, I may be putting him through hell," Opie chuckled, "but he's being a good sport about it - at least for the time being. Look to your left, mom."

She glanced in our direction and smiled. "Oh? Who's that with... OH, MY GOD!? THAT'S NOT REALLY KIMBERLY, IS IT!?" She shouted it loud enough for people to hear it a mile away, so I'm sure that Max heard it in the limo. How Sam explained that, I have no idea.

"Yes, it's me, Mrs. Reed," I said. "You look lovely. That is a beautiful dress." It was, too. It was definitely designed for a more mature woman. A modest collar and nice, long sleeves that ended in pretty bell shapes. It had a pale purple color at the top that gradually got darker as it got lower on the dress, almost as if the color had run when it was wet. It was a lovely effect and one that I most like would not have noticed a week ago.

"MY DRESS!?" She continued to shout. "MY GOD, KIMBERLY, WHAT IN GOOD GOD'S NAME ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? JUST LOOK AT YOU! LOOK AT YOUR DRESS! IT'S GORGEOUS! YOU'RE GORGEOUS!"

Then she actually hugged me. She hadn't hugged me the day my mother died. She hadn't hugged me the day my father died. She hadn't hugged me the day I married her daughter. She had never once hugged me. She had never so much as shaken my hand. I can't think of three times she actually smiled at me. I glanced at Josie and Emma and even they had their mouths hanging wide in shock.

Finally, she stopped hugging me and held me at arms length and spoke at a normal volume. "Well, I don't know quite how this was achieved, but I'm going to assume that Emma and Josephine had something to do with it, didn't they?"

"They did," I answered with a nod and a smile.

She shook her head and looked me over from head to toe. "Good lord, they certainly tried to do this to Penelope many times over the years, but it never worked. It certainly worked on you, though." She heaved a huge sigh. "This is amazing, Kimberly. Truly amazing. Congratulations, you make a better woman than your wife makes a man, if that's possible. Good heavens, I can't believe that sentence just came out of my mouth."

"Alright, mom," Opie said, a bit fed up with her sniping compliments. "I need you to remember that one of our guests doesn't know about any of this, and no one at the casino needs to hear any remarks about me or Kim, ok?"

She waved a dismissive hand at Opie. "Oh, I've completely forgotten about you. I'm captivated my this one. Come along, Kimberly. You too, Josephine and Emma. I am looking forward to an evening with my daughters."

I smiled at Opie as her mother linked her arm through mine. She rolled her eyes and called back, "Well, enjoy the ride, but I'm dancing with MY WIFE at some point tonight!"

It was actually a pretty fun ride to Mohegan Sun. I'd never seen Mother Reed so playful. She told stories about the girls growing up, never bringing up Opie's real name or true sex. Each story was embarrassing for one daughter or another and we all laughed all the way to the casino. It was a huge departure from her usual grumpy demeanor. We were all very happily surprised.

Dinner was AMAZING. I'm sure it cost more money than Opie should have been spending, but she wanted to share her promotion with all of us, so I wasn't going to step on her enthusiasm.

After dinner, we had a choice - a few hours of gambling or some dancing with the swing band playing in the lounge, down by the roulette tables. Mother Reed took two hundred dollars from Opie and made a beeline for the slot machines. The rest of us made our way to the lounge to dance to this classic swing-band that played music from the 1930s and 40s, and played it really well, too.

Now, Opie and I were not big dancer. We didn't go to clubs a lot, but when we did, we always enjoyed a few slow dances. The problem was, of course, our proximate sizes. My head reached Opie's shoulder, so it was always awkward for me to lead and, because she was the female and I was the male, it was always awkward for her to lead as well. So, mostly we just kind of hung on to each other and swayed.

Well, things were different that night. Opie was the man and I was the woman and things worked out just fine. She led and I followed and we danced quite a bit.

Honestly, I never truly understood the appeal of dancing before, but that night... feeling Opie's hands holding me through the soft material of that wonderful dress, feeling that skirt sway as she guided me across the dance floor, feeling her hands wander low on my back - and even lower than that - it was sensuous and intimate and amazing. I loved every second of it. She kissed my lips, my forehead, my neck, my shoulder... it was almost like having sex in public. I was sure that I was flushed with passion when we returned to our table after dancing to 'Moonlight Serenade.'

It was past midnight and we were all feeling a bit tired, as Emma went in search of Mother Reed. Opie called the Limo driver and let him know we'd be headed out in ten minutes.

Emma returned with Mother Reed, who had hit a Jackpot for a whopping six hundred dollars, and we were nearly to the door when some called out, "Reed!? PJ Reed! What are you doing here?"

Opie stopped and turned. "Hey, Brad!" She smiled, her voice sounding more businesslike than it had all evening. "We're just out celebrating. Oh, this is my mother, my sister, Emma and her friend, Max, my sister, Josie and her husband, Sam, and this is..."

"Don't tell me," the older man interrupted, "this is Kim, right?"

"Yes, I am," I said, very surprised.

"Well, let me tell you, my dear," he gushed as he shook my hand, "this guy talks about you all the time. 'Kim said this' and 'Kim did that.' I tell you, he's nuts about you." He smiled at me and released my hand.

"Brad is the CFO of Caduceus Health Care," Opie said to all of us, by way of introduction.

"Yes, and this is my wife, Jean," he said, stepping aside to introduce a very good looking woman of similar age to him.

"So nice to meet you all," the woman said with a sincere smile. "Kim, you must join me and some of the other wives for our monthly gettogethers. We go to a show, or a museum... something like that. It's fun."

'Oh, I'd love that," I said, in as friendly a voice as possible. "Oh, and you must come to our house warming when we get settled into our new place!"

"Yes, we will. That would be lovely. Thank you!" She smiled.

"Well, our car is here," Opie smiled. "Jean, it was lovely to meet you. Brad, see you Monday."

We all said our goodbyes and headed out the door. When we were out of earshot, Opie asked, "I'm sorry about that. I had no idea that I'd meet anyone from work here."

"That's ok," I assured him. "It's the kind of a place where you run into people. That's all."

"And does that little exchange mean that you've made up your mind and have decided to be my wife?"she asked.

"Not at all," I replied, flatly.

"Well, now that the CFO of my corporation has met my wife, it might be a bit odd if my husband shows up at a wives' get together or at our house warming, don't you think?"

I smiled at her. "Well, that's not really MY problem, now is it, 'PJ'? So you'd better be careful, MISTER PAUL JAMES REED, or you may find yourself in quite the pickle, now mightn't you?"

It took a moment for her to realize that I was teasing her. Her eyes narrowed, she pursed her lips and she gave my butt a playful slap through my wide skirt, but the truth is, it kind of stung on my bare cheek. "Knock it off, you tease. You wouldn't really do that to me, would you?"

I shrugged. "Honestly, Opie, I'm still making up my mind but... this dress is pretty awesome, don't you think? I never looked this good before and I kind of like it."

Opie stopped me and hugged me. "I kind of like it too, Kim. I kind of like it, a lot."

The ride home was quieter than the ride down. Mother Reed was very tired and only joked a little. We listened to music and we sang along a bit. All of us perked up a bit when John Denver's 'Take Me Home, Country Roads' played. It is funny how that song seems to inspire everyone to sing. Even my mother-in-law knew every word.

When we reached Mother Reed's, Opie got out of the car to walk her to the house, but as she made to climb out of the limousine, she took my hand and said, "Walk me to the house, Kimberly, please."

"Of course," I replied and followed her.

Nothing was said, but she held my hand the whole way up the stairs. Opie had opened the door by the time we got there and Mother Reed invited us to step inside for 'just a moment' because she had something she needed to say.

Once in the foyer of her little house, she turned to us and said, "Look, kids, I cannot begin to understand what you two are playing at..."

"Mom, we're not 'playing at' anything...'" Opie tried to interrupt, snapping at her a bit rudely considering how hard she'd tried to be nice all evening, but she held up her hand and continued.

"... but... however this... role reversal thing came about... it seems to be the right thing for you two. Penelope..."

"Mom!" Opie again snapped at her.

"I'm sorry... PJ... you seem so... confident and... I don't know... happy, I guess, this way. Honestly, I'm very happy for you. Truly, I am. I just wanted you to know that."

Opie smiled at her, surprised that she was showing support of any kind. "Well... thank you, mom."

"And you, Kimberly..." she sighed, turning her attention to me. "... my goodness. When I saw you earlier, I thought 'Well, he looks good, but surely he'll give himself away with his mannerisms as the evening goes on,' but... Kimberly, you are meant to be a woman. Oh, I know, I know, PJ told me that you haven't made up your mind, but I watched you tonight. I even saw you two dancing a few times when you thought I was playing the slots. I saw how you moved. I saw how you surrendered to your husband's lead when you danced or hugged or kissed. I always thought you two made an odd couple. Now, I think you make a perfect couple." She petted my cheek, then kissed it. "Be a woman, Kimberly. You were meant to be a woman. I wish you could have experienced being a girl, but... be a woman. My girls will help you be the best woman you can be, I'm sure." Then she touched one of her hands to each of our faces and smiled at us - a very unusual thing to have happen. "That's all I wanted to say."

"Ok," Opie shrugged, not seeming to grasp the kindness she was extending in that moment. "Either one of the girls or I will come by tomorrow, mom, and we'll show you our new house." He kissed her cheek. "Love you. 'Night."

I took the uncomfortable step forward and kissed her cheek, too. "Goodnight, Mrs Reed. See you tomorrow."

As we walked to the limo, Opie muttered, "What the hell was that? I think aliens abducted my mother." Then she chuckled in a very dismissive manner. "That woman has gone crazy."

I stopped, grabbed her arm and turned her to face me. I was more than a bit ticked off. You know, I've known plenty of guys who were self centered jerks when it came to other people's feelings and I kind of got the feeling that Opie thought that that was how a man should act. Well I never acted that way, my father never acted that way and, frankly.... I wasn't going to live with someone who acted that way. I spoke tersely, but quietly so no one else would hear.

"Listen to me, MISTER Reed. Everything weird that's going on right now - you with a flat chest and wearing an Armani suit - me in a dress - your sisters hauling their brother-in-law around to beauty parlors and lingerie stores - all those things? That's all YOUR doing. You understand that, right?"

Opie just blinked at me, shocked that I was on the attack. I was angry, though. She had shown this kind of lack of empathy several times in the last few days - since I'd given her the nightgown, actually, and I was fed up. I couldn't have stopped my attack if I'd want to, anyway.

"Now, YOUR mother, the woman, who you told me JUST YESTERDAY, always called you ugly, the woman you expected to ruin this evening by making remarks all night long, just told you how handsome you looked and that she is happy for you because you looked like you'd found happiness and so had I. She just came as close to telling you that she loves you as she is capable and all you can do is make light of that? Who are you? You don't look like the woman I married and you don't act the woman I married, and I might be able to live with that but... Goddamnit, if you're going to become a man you'd better become a good man, Penelope, and not some asshole who is dismissive of the feelings of everyone else. Especially everyone who loves you, because I can't live with someone like that - man or woman - I cannot live with someone like that."

I began to storm off towards the limo, but Opie grabbed my hand. I turned and looked at her and I'm sure that the rage I felt was apparent on my face.

She stared at me for a good long moment, before nodding and whispering, "Wow... Kim... I'm sorry..." she breathed for a few moments, then said. "Can you... can you wait here a second?"

She turned and jogged back up onto the porch then stood there for a moment before knocking on the door.

Just before her fist made contact with the wooden door, Emma's voice came from behind my left shoulder. "Is everything ok?"

"I don't know," I answered, honestly. "I'm not sure what she's doing."

Opie knocked and a moment later the door opened. Emma and I watched from the walkway as Opie sputtered for a moment or two before finally saying, "Look... mom... ummm... I just wanted to say... well... thanks for what you just said to me... and to Kim and... well... I want you to know that... I love you, too."

I took a second - almost like it does at the end of the cartoon version of 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas,' but Mother Reed's lips curled into a very, very broad smile and she nearly leapt forward to hug her daughter/son. "I love you, too," she said, with a catch in her throat. When she stepped back, she sniffled a bit and I could tell that she was determined to not show any more emotion than she'd already shown. "Now... you go ahead home and get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow... well... later today, I guess." She nodded, several times as she stepped back and slowly closed the door. "Bye bye, now."

"That was a good thing to do," I said as Opie got back to us, actually looking a bit shell-shocked. "Do you feel better?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "I guess I do."

With that, Emma punched her in the arm, really, really hard.

"Ouch!" Opie let out. "What was that for?"

"You jerk!" Emma said, playfully angry. "Now, we're all going to have to tell her we love her. Pretty soon there'll be no living with her." Then she smiled and laughed as we headed back to the limo.
 
 
To Be Continued...

At Emma's I waited in the car while she ran in and got my stud earrings, concerned that I might have some problems sleeping in the black pearl-drop earrings I'd worn that evening. Opie took the pendent I'd worn off and I returned it to my sister-in-law as well.

When we got home, Opie was very frisky as we walked towards the front door. Her hand was exploring the rear hem of my skirt and just as we reached our front stoop, she realized that my butt cheek was exposed beneath the skirt.

"No underwear?" She asked, or rather accused, as she unlocked the door.

"It's a thong," I admitted.

Her eyes opened wide. "Oh!" She chucked. "Wait till I get you upstairs."

"You'll have to wait," I said, "because, besides all the makeup I have to deal with, I'm taped."

"Taped? What do you mean 'taped?'"

"I mean I'm taped. Like, my...thing," I know it's stupid, but I just felt so much like a woman that saying 'my penis' just felt... gross, "is taped up underneath me."

We stepped inside and I noticed that Opie had the most wolfish smile I'd ever seen in my life and suddenly I felt either like a sheep or Little Red Ridding Hood, but, at any rate, I knew I was about to be devoured. That may explain the scream that I let out when I was suddenly scooped up by my rather macho looking wife and whisked up the stairs and unceremoniously dropped onto my bed.

"Wait!" I shouted. "You are not going to ruin this dress! I LOVE this dress!"

"More than you love me?" She asked teasing.

"It's probably a toss-up," I said. "Unzip me."

When Opie saw me in the sexy bra and panties, with my prosthetic breasts and my flat-fronted, lace covered, thong, she kind of lost it. The next hour or more was an erotic blur of touching and kissing and licking, but my exogenous zones remained imprisoned in gauze and tape. It didn't matter, though. I may not have orgasmed, but I was one hundred percent satiated, and so was Opie.

I was awakened the next morning by a nibble on my right butt cheek. I turned and saw Opie smiling up at me, already dressed in jeans and a Boston Red Sox tee shirt. "Morning," she grinned.

"What time is it?" I asked, groggy.

"After eleven," she answered as she rubbed my bottom. My panties were still on and so was my bra. I realized that my makeup was, too. I couldn't imagine what a mess I must have been, but I didn't care. "I hate to wake you, honey, but we need to get to the other house by one. I have to meet the garage door guy and the landscape guy. I figured you'd want to shower."

I stared to get up, but stopped. "Ope - I don't have anything to wear."

She chuckled. "Just like a woman."

"No, Opie, I'm serious. I don't own a dress of my own, except the one I wore last night."

She shrugged. "You could go naked."

"See, this is that smart ass side of PJ that I don't like. I'll call call Emma and see if she'll loan me something. You might have to go get it though."

I grabbed my phone and pushed Emma's contact number. It rang several times before a voice responded. The surprising thing was that it wasn't Emma's voice. It was a man's voice. "Hello. Emma's phone."

I had to think for a second before I spoke. "Oh... umm... is this Max?"

"Oh, yeah, it is. Hi, Kim. I didn't know if it was you or another Kim. Emma's in the shower. Want her to call you back?"

"Max?" Opie asked. "Max spent the night?" He seemed shocked. Certainly having a man stay over was not typical behavior 'serious big sister' Emma.

I nodded.

"Yeah, that would be... well, you know what, Max, I'm just going to go ahead and send Opie over there. Just tell Em that Opie is on the way and that I need to borrow a dress, ok. Something casual. Nothing fancy. Alright."

"Oh," he said, a bit uncertain. "Alright. You want to borrow a casual dress."

"Yes."

"You don't own any casual dressed of your own?"

Yikes! He had me there, didn't he? "Oh... umm, see, we're in the process of moving and everything I have is packed away. Can you ask her that for me?"

"Yeah, ok, sure," he answered, seemingly satisfied.

"Great. Thanks. Bye." I disconnected the call.

"Everything ok?" Opie asked.

"I guess," I shrugged. "Go get me a dress, and make it a simple dress, ok. Nothing fancy. And... whatever else we do, I need to pick up at least a couple of things today, or tonight, alright. Emma can't keep lending me clothes. Guys aren't supposed to borrow their sister-law's dresses. It's weird."

"Guys aren't supposed to look that good in a thong, either, but there you go," she teased.

"Yeah, well wait till I tell you how your sisters pushed my testicles back up into my abdomen and taped my junk away for me yesterday," I said, as I closed the door to the bathroom behind me.

The last thing I heard was Opie shouting, "What!?" from the bed as I started the water in the shower.

I was doing my best with a curling iron and a blow dryer when Opie returned with a really pretty, but casual dress - mostly red roses with green leaves and stems. A modest V-neck, pretty and loose short sleeves, a high waist and a loose skirt that sat about four inches above my knees. She also sent a pair of plain white sneakers and a pair of low cut sport socks that wouldn't show above the sneakers.

"She said you'd have a lot of running around to do today and you'd need them. Why you'd have a lot of running around to do, I'm not sure."

I smiled, knowing I'd be running between our new place and Emma's but also knowing that Opie didn't know that.

We stopped and got me a breakfast wrap and a tea at a local bakery and headed to the house in The Brookfields, arriving just ahead of the garage door man. The existing doors were pretty old and Opie wanted something really sharp looking and an updated opening system.

While she talked to the garage door man, I told her that, since it had been twilight when we'd been on the go the house before, I was going to explore the yard. She kissed my cheek and off I went - directly to the back of Emma's new yard, where Max was busy cutting an opening in the fence with a reciprocating saw. I have to tell you, I was practically giddy with excitement at the prospect of telling Opie about Emma buying this house.

It's weird, I'd known Emma most of my life and I'd known Josie since she was still in diapers, but they were always just Opie's sisters. Even when Opie and I moved in together and they became ubiquitous features in our house, I just said 'hi' and went about my day. Opie and I got married and they went from being 'my girlfriend's sisters' to being 'my sisters-in-law,' but nothing really changed. I was shocked when they showed up and offered to help me pick out something for Opie for our anniversary, and even more surprised when they showed up to apologized when things went wrong. But when Emma agreed to help me make a point with Opie by helping me look good in that nightgown and then everything went sideways - everything changed. In the last few days, they had become the closest friends I'd ever had. Closer than friends. Well, they had said it, and I guess it was true - sisters. I loved them like sisters and I was thrilled to have them so close by at the new house.

"Alright, now," Max said, sounding very serious, "if PJ is upset about this opening, then someone else did the work. NOT ME! Ok? He's not that big, but he looks pretty fit. I don't want to get into a fight with him."

Emma and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Ok, tough guy," she guffawed. "We'll take the fall for you."

I headed back to my house, admiring the beautiful grounds of my new home as I walked, and Emma and Sam retreated to Emma's new bungalow.

"Kim!" Opie smiled as I arrived back at the garage. "Look at these doors," she showed me pictures in a brochure. "They look like barn doors. They'll fit the aesthetic of the house a lot better than a regular garage door. Don't you think?"

The picture was very attractive, I guess. "Sure." I smiled at her enthusiasm.

She nodded and turned back to the garage door contractor. "Yeah. We'll go with these. All four doors. For the openers, we'll get the ones that use the small remotes as well as the phones apps and the key pads on the outside of the house."

"Sounds good, Mr Reed," the man said as he made notes.

I spoke quietly Opie. "Do we need all of that? It seems expensive."

"Don't worry. We could afford this before the new job, Kim. Now, it's definitely no problem."

The garage door guy held a clipboard with a contract on it for Opie to sign and he gave me a look of condensation that made me want to punch him in the nose. So, before Opie could take the clipboard, I grabbed it and looked at the figures. I looked it over and shook my head.

"Four doors, six panels each with each panel costing eighty-seven dollars, is that correct?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Yeah."

"That's twenty four panels times eighty-seven dollars, that should total two thousand, eighty eight dollars. You have the total as three thousand sixty five dollars. Also, you listed the cost of the automatic opener system as twenty six hundred dollars, so four of those would total ten thousand four hundred dollars, but you have the total ten thousand nine hundred and sixty dollars."

The man made a face that indicated that my math was obviously flawed. "I added in labor costs, Mrs Reed."

I held up the invoice and showed Opie that there was a line with 'labor' listed.

Opie took the clipboard from me and handed it back to the man. "Tell you what. If you would like my business, I will give you one more chance to write up a more legitimate invoice. Get that back to me later today and, if my wife approves of it, perhaps we'll do business."

"May I see that invoice one more time?" I asked.

The man sighed as he handed it back to me. I took out my phone and took a picture of it so that I would have it as a reference, then handed it back and smiled at him. "Thank you."

The man turned away from me and shook hands with Opie. "Mr Reed. I'll be in touch later today." He nodded at me and walked away.

"Good catch," Opie smiled at me.

"Good catch?" I was irked. "Opie, that guy is a slime ball. Now, I know that sometimes we have to do business with slime balls, but you were about to just sign that contract without even glancing at it. You are running a multi-trillion dollar health network. Is that how you do your job?"

"No, of course not."

"No, of course, not. Your were excited about the doors and it was only a little money, so you just wanted to get it done. But, Opie, it's not just a little money. It's hundreds, no it's thousands of dollars. Just a few years ago, that was the difference between us being able to pay the mortgage or not."

"Ok, Kim, I'm sorry. Why are you so revved up about this?"

"Look, Opie... I'm going to tell you the truth. This role reversal stuff... I think I'm going to do it..."

"Honey, that's great..."

"...but I am not interested in being some little housewife, or your pretty little accessory, ok? Opie, you and I have always been partners. When we got together, I was making a little more money than you. We were both working forty hours a week and it just sort of worked out that you ended up taking care of the household accounts. Well, lately, you've been working fifty hours a week, or more, plus the gym, and I suspect that, with this new job, you may be working a little more than that. Right?"

"Maybe? I don't know."

"Well, look, you're talking about bringing a service in to take care of the landscaping, another to plow the driveway in the winter, another for this, another for that, all of this is going to add up and I'm a little nervous about what it's all going to cost so... if it's all the same to you... since I'm at home and I'm pretty damned good with numbers... I'd like to take over the household accounts."

"Really? Because that would really be a huge help." Opie smiled, seemingly relieved by my offer.

I was actually surprised by her response. I thought that she was being a little, I don't know, secretive, about our finances for the last few years. "Yeah, I'd like to do it, Ope. I want to continue to be in a partnership with you. I mean, I really love that you bought me this house, but... let me be your partner, not your pet. Ok?"

She wrapped her arms around me and nodded. "Ok, Kim. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. That was never my intention. Honey, I've thought a lot about what you said last night about other people's feelings and you're right - I have been a pretty blind to other people's feelings lately. I promise I'll do better. Ok?"

"Thank you, Opie," I smiled and hugged her tighter.

She kissed me, but she had to stop because the man from the landscape company pulled into the driveway just then. The man driving was probably in his fifties but had the bounce of a man in his twenties. He bounded across the driveway with a big smile and a hand extended. "Good morning! Mr and Mrs Reed, I assume? I'm Jim"

"Hi, Jim," Opie smiled. "I'm PJ Reed. This is my wife, Kim Bristol."

"Mr Reed, Ms Bristol," he grinned.

"Kim is fine," I assured him, "as is Mrs Reed. No need to worry about remembering too many names."

Opie looked at me, confused. It was the first time she'd remembered to use my real last name and I'd undercut her. I just shrugged and smiled. I wasn't even sure why I'd done it, but it made me smile.

Opie explained to Jim that he'd like to have his company take over the lawn maintenance as make a few improvements to the existing landscaping. Jim was eager to please, stating that he'd always wanted to do some work on this property. He pointed out a few issues he'd noticed and offered suggestions for improving the yard.

"Well, it looks like about five acres," Jim nodded. "We can certainly handle it for you. Anything else you'd like?"

"Actually, I'd like some flower beds over in that area," I said, pointing towards the area outside of the solarium. Something that I could mange myself and learn as I go."

Opie looked at me, askance. "You've never expressed an interest in gardening before."

"I've never had the opportunity to do anything but plant marigolds in pots in the spring and then replace them with mums in the fall. Now, I'd like to learn."

Opie smiled. "Ok. Whatever you can help her with, then, Jim, would be great."

Jim smiled. "Sure, Kim. I'll draw up a few ideas and bring them by Monday. Anything else?"

"I think that's it," Opie said.

"Well, there is one more thing," I grinned. "I know it might be a little bit of an expense, but I'd love a nice walkway from our kitchen door," I pointed to the door, then pointed to Emma's new bungalow, "to the opening in that fence, over there."

"What?" Opie asked, shocked. "Why? And since when has there been an opening in that fence? I'm sure that wasn't there the last time I was here."

If Opie was confused, Jim was completely flummoxed. "Umm... is this something you want then?"

"Yes." I confirmed.

"No," Opie insisted. "Why do we need a walkway to a strangers house?"

"A stranger is just a friend you've never met," I said with the sweetest smile I could muster.

"Do you want to discuss this and get back to me?" Jim asked.

"What's going on here, Kim? I know you. You're playing some kind of game, aren't you?" Opie squinted at me.

She sounded just irritated enough for Jim to ask, "Hey... should I come back another time? You too seem to have some things to discuss."

Opie looked at me, then at the house and shook her head. Then she looked at Jim. "I think it might be worth our while to take a walk over there, Jim. Then we'll know if we need to build that path or not."

Jim nodded. "Pardon me for saying so, Mr Reed, but I'm pretty sure that we all know that we're building that path."

I slipped my arm through Opie's and began to lead her toward's Emma's place. "See, honey. Jim understands how to keep everyone happy at home."

We strolled through our yard and headed to the gap in the fence.

"That's a new cut," Jim said. "Someone just opened this up, today."

"Curiouser and curiouser," Opie said, smirking at me.

When we reached the back of the bungalow, there was a low, pretty deck that led to the back door. We stopped at the stairs. "Well," I said to Opie, "go knock."

"Why don't you?" She asked.

"You're the man," I teased.

She snorted at me, then walked up the stairs, across the deck and knocked. From inside, we heard, "Yes?"

Opie glanced back at me, "Umm, hi. I'm your new neighbor out back and I noticed that you cut a section of, what I believe is, my fence out this morning and I'd like to talk to you about it if I could."

"Oh, that? Yes, I did do that," the voice admitted.

Opie glanced back at me and held her hands up in confusion. "May I ask why?"

"So I could have lunch with my sister-in-law."

With that, Opie's shoulders dropped and she looked up at the sky. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" She turned and looked at me. "One of them bought the house next door?"

"One of 'who' bought the house next door?" Jim asked.

"My sisters," Opie shook her head. "It's Emma, right?"

Suddenly, the back door opened wide and Emma stepped out. "Surprise!"

For a moment, I thought that Opie was actually angry, but then she hugged her sister and turned to face us. "Jim, this is my big sister, Emma, who can't seem to go a day without butting into my life." That earned her an elbow in the ribs. "So, I guess we'll be needing that walkway to go from these stairs to our back door and, also, why don't you add this yard to our contract." She looked at Emma. "You are nearly as big a pain in the ass as Kim is, do you know that?"

"Who do think has been tutoring Kim?" Emma smirked.

"And I suppose Josie is buying a place abutting this place, too?" Opie asked.

"Josie's house is only about a half mile away," I pointed out.

"Seriously?" Opie asked. She'd only been there the one time I'd been there, too, and going via the back roads, it didn't seem like it was anywhere near our new house.

"Seriously," Emma smiled. "You know how we were always dropping by before? Expect the same and maybe a bit more."

Opie smiled and gave her a hug.

Max appeared from the doorway. "Hey, PJ. Sorry about all this. I hope you're ok with it."

"Yeah," Opie nodded. "It's great."

Max and Emma walked back to the house with us. Jim left just as Josie and Sam pulled in with Mother Reed. We gave her a tour of the house and then walked over to Emma's again to show her the bungalow. She seemed genuinely happy for her two eldest daughters.

It turned out there was a very nice sandwich shop just a couple of blocks away. So we walked there and had a light lunch, after which we split into groups. Sam, Max and Opie went shopping for appliances - well - televisions. Mother Reed, Josie, Emma and I went dress shopping, primarily for me, but we managed to find plenty of dresses for the others, as well.

"Oh, this has been such a lovely day," Mother Reed said as we headed back to our house. "Your houses are so lovely, as is yours, Josephine, and going shopping like this with my three girls... it's like a dream come true for me."

"I'm glad you're happy, mom," Josie said. She was sitting in the back seat with me. "It's kind of fun to shop for Kim, isn't it? I mean, she's a full grown woman, but she doesn't have anything so we get to try all kinds of styles on her."

Mother Reed turned as far as she could and looked at me. "You make a very beautiful woman, Kimberly. This has been a very nice day. Thank you for inviting me."

"Anytime, Mrs Reed," I smiled.

"Mom," Emma said, "isn't it about time that we did away with the 'Mrs Reed' stuff? You've known Kimmy almost as long as you've known Josie. Can't we come up with something a little less formal than 'Mrs Reed?'"

Feeling a bit caught in the middle of this conversation, I said, "Mrs Reed is fine."

"No, they're right," she said. "I'd be very happy if you'd call me 'mom,' Kimberly."

I was a bit shocked. "Oh, well... thank you, Mrs... mom." Honestly, it didn't feel very comfortable that first time, but I got used to it pretty quickly.

On Sunday, we packed up our clothes and moved. Opie had arranged for a very efficient moving company to come to the house mid-week and take care of everything. They would pack everything up, load it and take it to the new house. All I had to do was figure out where I wanted everything to go when it got there.

On the way to The Brookfields, that Sunday afternoon, we dropped off all of my men's clothing at a charity bin. I guess I'd made my decision at that point, but I refused to confirm anything until at least Monday night. I don't know why. I guess I just wanted to stick to my guns until I was ready.

That first night in the new house was very romantic. We didn't have any plates or silverware, so we had to get take out and ate out of the boxes with plasticware while watching an old Disney movie on a ludicrously big TV that Opie had bought while on her outing with the boys - I never should have allowed her to pick out a TV unsupervised.

When we got to bed, though, the new space inspired us to be more intimate, to take things slower and explore each other even more. It was blissful, and when I snuggled into Opie in my silk and lace nightgown, I realized that, come tomorrow, it had only been a week since our anniversary and the day she had dared me to wear this glorious gown for the first time. Wow, my world had certainly change a lot in that week.

On Monday morning, I was up early to make Opie breakfast, but there were no groceries, nor pots nor pans, so she gave me a kiss goodbye and headed out to work. She had left a file crate with the household bills and tax records, etc. in it so I could start sorting through those. Jim, the landscape guy, was coming at eleven, so Emma and Josie were coming a little earlier than that to join in those discussions. Also, both our old house and Emma's were going on the market today through Emma's agency, so Emma was getting all of that started before coming to the farm house.

'The farm house?' That seemed cumbersome. It definitely was 'A' farmhouse. It certainly HAD been a farm, but wasn't now. I'd figure out what to call it at some point.

Anyway, I took the file-crate to a small office area off of the kitchen. I think that when the farm had been a working enterprise, this may have been where the lady of the house actually did run the household and tally the daily expenses. I thought it was a nice place for me to do the same, and it had a lovely view of my side yard, looking towards Emma's place.

There was an old roll-top desk in that space that needed a little tidying up. So, I grabbed some cleaning products I'd bought while I'd been out with the girls, pulled on some yellow, Playtex rubber gloves and gave it a scrubbing as well as treating it with some lemon oil. It looked brand new when I was done. I gave it a little time to dry while I dug out my MacBook, my iPad and my Bose surround sound speaker and brought them to the office.

I'd noticed some pretty pictures of flowers, nothing 'high art' mind you, just some nicely framed pictures of flowers and herbs, stored in one of the garages, so I went out there and grabbed the prettiest of them and brought them in. Opie had picked up a few items in order to mount her titanic television, so there were some picture hooks, a tape measure and a hammer available. I hung the pictures and realized that not only had I created a lovely, feminine office, but that the lemon oil on my desk had dried and I could get to work.

I created a spreadsheet and listed all the expected expenses with spots for bi-weekly deposits from Opie's job and then pulled out the most recent bank statement, which, of course, did not include the rather large bonus she'd received for accepting her new job.

Did you ever have one of those moments when every molecule in your body seems to explode and leave you for a moment, then slam back into you with nearly the same force as the explosion? No? Well I have. It happened when I looked at that bank statement. Now, I want to be very clear. Opie had never lied to me about our finances. She told me we were doing fine and I never asked beyond that. We had a nice house and we weren't really travelers or anything like that, so our expenses were pretty run of the mill. Our bills were always paid, the lights were on and the heat was always working. I didn't question it. I expected that when I looked at the bank statements, I would find that we had a nice nest egg.

We didn't.

We had a freaking dinosaur egg. I couldn't believe that, not only did we have that much money, but that we were letting it sit in a savings account and not doing anything with it! I began making notes about how we should be handling at least some of this money and setting reminders to find financial advisors who could help me manage this small fortune I was now in charge of.

I went back into the records and looked at when this influx of money had begun and found that about three years earlier, Opie started making a bit more than I did. Then, over the next few months, it appears that she got several promotions in quick succession and her pay rose accordingly. This must have been the same point that she had begun taking on a male persona at work. From there, her pay seems to have increased in leaps and bounds while our living expenses remained unchanged. The result - we have been accumulating wealth at a ludicrous rate for the past few years.

At that moment, I had just discovered my new career. Dealing with Opie's income.

By the time Josie and Emma arrived with tea and a croissants for all of us, I was famished. We went out into the solarium and enjoyed our first of many mornings in this space. Just some relaxation and sisterly talk.

It was decided that after Jim met with us, we'd take a ride back to my old hose and I would pack up my pots and pans, silverware and plates and a few small things and bring them back to the farmhouse. We'd also stop at The Mill so I could pick up a few things there, too.

You're probably wondering why I didn't drive myself anywhere, right?

Well, because I didn't have a car.

Well, I HAD a car. A nice car. A Saab, in fact, that I had spent months researching and shopping for before purchasing. Then, one night during quarantine, while it was parked safely in my driveway, some drunk jerk lost control of her fourteen year old minivan and totaled my beautiful Saab. I wanted to replace it, but with all of the shipping and supply issues, a new one hadn't arrived and since I was working from home, it didn't really matter much. Emma and Josie were in and out of my house all the time and were happy to either give me a ride to the store or pick things up for me and Opie's Lexus was around in the evenings, as a rule. So, being without a car was not as crippling for me as it might have been for someone else.

Back to the story - Jim had drawn up beautiful plans for both our yard and Emma's.

"Oh, now I want to live down here," Josie pouted. "I feel so left out of the club."

"You're five minutes away," Emma tsk-ed.

"Yeah, but my yard is all pine tree needles. I wonder if Sam would consider moving down here."

Emma shook her head. "You know that selling a house in the first five years is the worst possible..."

"Oh, shut up," Josie said in her best spoilt little sister voice. "If something connected to Opie and Kim's property comes on the market, tell me immediately."

Jim looked up. "Who's Opie?"

"PJ," we all said in unison.

"Long story," Emma smiled. "Family nickname."

"Oh," he said, then moved on. "So, do you ladies like everything on the plans?"

"I certainly love what you've drawn up for my yard," Emma said. "I liked what was there, but this is so much better."

"It's great, Jim," I said. "When can you start?"

He handed me a contract and said, "Well, why don't you talk it over with PJ and let me know if you're both happy with everything..."

I took the contract and stood. "Let me take this to my office, Jim." I smiled. "Give me a moment to read it over and scan it. I handle the household accounts, not PJ."

"Well, then we can start on Wednesday or Thursday. I'm assuming that the walkway is your priority, so I'll start there."

"Oooooo" both Emma and Josie said, feigning being impressed. "SHE handles the household accounts, now."

"Damned right," I smiled. "Hey, you haven't seen my office! Come on back. You, too, Jim."

They all loved the way the little office looked. Josie complimented me on the pretty pictures of flowers and herbs.

I read through the contract and all the numbers added up. So, I signed it and took out the check book and wrote a check for the amount of the deposit. Then took out my iPad and opened a scanner app.

"Oh, I'll give you a hard copy," Jim said.

"I know," I said, "but you'll give me a pink copy and the white copy scans better. I like everything to be available in a virtual file. Usually, I'd do this with my printer, but it's not here, yet."

I scanned the contract and the check and handed them to Jim, then shook his hand. "Thank you, Jim."

"My pleasure, Kim," he smiled as he handed me a hard copy of the contract. "See you later in the week."

We drove back to my place. Emma and Josie had to do some realtor business, so I found a box and packed up what I needed. Mostly, it was just cooking accoutrements and place settings, but I also ran up to my bureau and grabbed a couple of things that my mother had left me. Things I hadn't really thought much about since she'd passed away when I was very young.

I had everything waiting on the front stoop when the girls returned. So, we put them in the trunk of the car and headed back to The Brookfields.

We did stop on the way to pick up the ingredients for Opie's favorite dinner - spaghetti and meatballs. For someone with no Italian heritage, I actually made a pretty good red sauce and I'd grabbed a few jars of previously made sauce from our freezer at the old house. I got some good ground beef and ground pork for the meatballs and some spaghetti.

Then we hit The Mill for visit to the lingerie shop that had started it all. To say that the proprietress was shocked with how I now presented myself would have been a gross understatement. She just kept staring at me while she got the items I requested.

We also stopped at a jewelry store to pickup a couple of things I needed and have them deal with a. Issue I was having.

As we headed out, I did stop at a kitchen specialty shop to get a good colander, something I'd never had before. While we were there, Emma and Josie insisted that I also purchase two very frilly bib aprons - and it was actually a good thing that I did, because one of them did end up in the laundry that evening with splatters of red-sauce all over it. It never bothered me when I got a little splatter on a tee shirt, but I would really have felt terrible to have gotten anything on one of my new dresses. I don't even know why I felt that way. I knew how to do laundry.

We made one more stop at a shop in the village just a few blocks down the hill from our new homes. It was a bicycle shop. The man who ran the shop was very happy to sell us three very pretty, and somewhat expensive, classic looking, women's bicycles with classic baskets on the front. We each got our own pastel color. Josie's was pink, of course, Emma's was lilac and mine was sort of sea-foam-green. The bikes would need to be assembled, of course, so I paid for them and he agreed to drop them off at my house the next afternoon.

I was home just in time to get my meatballs into the oven. While they baked, I set the dining room table and put out the candles I'd bought at The Mill. I'd spent a stupid amount of money on the candle holders, but I didn't have time to go shopping and I wanted to have a romantic diner ready when Opie got home.

Soon, the water was boiling and my sauce was warming. The meatballs were cooked and I put them into the sauce for the last few minutes.

I used a soup tureen that Opie and I had bought at an estate sale years ago to put the pasta and meatballs and sauce in. Then placed it on the dining room table.

I had made some garlic bread, so I sliced that and put it into a nice Nantucket basket that I lined with a new, very pretty, tea towel.

The meal was carb heavy, I know, but it was a special night and that was her favorite meal.

Finally, I opened a bottle of red wine and let it breathe.

Before Opie arrived, I checked my hair and makeup, did a little damage control, then, as I heard Opie pull into the driveway, I lit the candles and dimmed the lights about halfway and waited.

When she came in the front door she called, "Honey, I'm home!" In a vain attempt to be funny.

"I'm in the dinning room," I called back.

"The dinning room?" She asked. "What's the occasion? Whoa..." she saw the table all set up and stopped in her tracks. "It's not our anniversary or either of our birthdays... I know I'm not pregnant, and unless there's something you're not telling me, I don't think you are, so... I give up. What's the occasion?"

"Just come in and eat," I smiled.

"Ok," she shrugged, pulling off her suit coat. "By the way, you look beautiful."

That felt nice. "Thank you, Opie. Give me your plate."

She loved the dinner and told me all about acclimating to her new job. She seemed to really like the new challenges.

"That was delicious, honey," she said as she mopped up the last of her sauce with a bit of garlic bread. "That's my favorite meal."

"I know." I got up and grabbed a few presents I had set aside before she got home. "Here. I got you a few presents today. Open up the biggest one first."

She looked confused. "Presents? Why?"

"Just open them."

When she tore the paper off of the box and saw the name of the lingerie store she stopped and looked at me. "I don't understand."

"We had a deal. If I wore the night gown for a week, you'd get something silky and sexy to wear, too."

She sighed. "Kim... I thought we'd gotten past this..."

"Did I live up to my end of the deal?" I asked.

"Well, yes, but..."

"Open the box, Opie."

She shook her head and I'm sure she was preparing for a big fight, but she let out a sigh of relief when she found a very handsome pair of men's silk pajamas and a matching robe. "Thank you, Kimmy. They're really nice."

"I'm glad you like them," I grinned, knowing I'd made her sweat a little.

She opened up the smaller box and looked up at me, a little confused. "I don't get it? What are these?"

"They're wedding rings, obviously. I noticed that you stopped wearing yours. I assume it's because it's rather slender and feminine. Now, you'll have a big, manly wedding band like all the other boys. Here. Let me put yours on you." I took the larger of the two rings and held it above the ring finger of her left hand. "Paul James Reed, with this ring I take you as my wedded husband." I slid the ring onto her finger.

She looked at the ring on her finger and smiled. Then she looked at the smaller ring. She took that in her hand and then looked at me. "Does this mean that you're going to be my wife?"

I nodded. "But there are some conditions. No more lies. No more secrets. No more acting like an asshole and above all, you never, ever, ever act like you're the 'head of the household.' I never did that when I was the man and I won't stand for it as the woman. We are partners in this marriage, Penelope Jane. If you agree to my terms, I will never use that name again."

She smiled. "Of course I agree to that, honey. Give me your hand." She took my left hand and held the smaller ring above my third finger. Kimberley Bristol...

"No, no, no..." I interrupted her. "I think I'd rather be Kimberly Reed."

Opie smiled and I think her eyes watered up a little bit. "Thank you, Kimmy. Kimberly Reed... with this ring I take you as my wedded wife."

She started to put the ring on my finger and stopped. "What's that?"

I looked at my finger. "That's my mother's engagement ring. I got it out of my bureau today. I've been thinking a lot about her lately."

Opie nodded. "I can get you a nicer engagement ring, though, honey. This one is very small..."

"I know, Ope, but... I want this one. My dad never had much money and he was always very proud of having bought this for my mom. It was a little loose on my finger, but the jeweler was able to do something right there at the shop that tightened it up for me. I know it's a really small diamond, but... it's my mom and dad, you know? It's kind of like... I'm starting a new life... one that I'll never be able to share with them... and I don't want to leave them behind."

She nodded and kissed the tip of my finger, then ran the ring down to meet the engagement ring.
 

So, all of that was... what... a few months ago. What have I been doing with my time since then? Well, lots of painting! We've painted almost all of the rooms in our house and all of the rooms in Emma's too. We've also redecorated her little in-law building, which is now a beautiful office where she and Josie work everyday.

I work in my gardens and I love every second of that. Jim has taught me a lot and I watch shows and YouTube videos that teach me how to do all kinds of things. Next year, I'm planting a vegetable garden, too. I'm planning on rhubarb, lettuce, tomatoes, squash, zucchini, bell peppers, string beans... things like that

I keep an immaculate house, and I know that sounds housewife-ish, but I always did keep the house nice and neat, before. I just never got credit for it.

Most mornings, unless they have an early showing, Emma and Josie come over to the house for a light breakfast. Frequently, we will ride our bikes down into the village for lunch. We've gotten to know almost all of the shop owners, now. They call us 'The Reed Girls,' a label I love more than I can say.

I have not referred to Opie as 'she' since the night of our 'second wedding' when we put on our new rings. He is my husband and I love him dearly. He also works very hard to be considerate of the feelings of others and I think that has made him a better man.

I have not worn a pair of pants since the day that I first wore Emma's green tee shirt dress - except for my yoga pants which I wear for the classes I take with Emma and Josie on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. I'm getting pretty limber and I think it's actually helping me back here in my butt a bit.

Look, I'm not going to lie to you. This is not the life I expected, but it is a wonderful, charmed life that is filled with more joy and love than I ever expected I would ever or could ever find.

Opie and I used to live in a grey little world. Happy enough, but we didn't know what 'joy' was, really.

Now?

Now, we live more fully - and it's not the money. Sure that makes our life easier, but it's more than that. It's because we found ourselves and that helped us find each other and that helped us to explore the depths of our love in ways we never expected.

So, I know that your question was just a simple one - 'What brings you here, today? - My answer has been pretty long and meandering, but I think it's important that you understand that I'm not here on a whim. I'm here because I am serious about doing whatever I need to do to get breast implants and they tell me that it all starts with this psychological evaluation.

So... what else can I tell you?
 
THE END
 
 
Author's Addendum: It was a different way for me to write a piece. I really do hope you enjoyed this. Please let me know either way. ~Clara.