Game, Set and Match. Part 1
by Bronwen Welsh
Chapter One

When Mike was persuaded by his friend Dave to be his mixed doubles partner in the tennis tournament, a whole new world opened up, with consequences he could never have imagined.

Most of the girls here that tell their stories say that they felt a strong urge to be feminine from a very early age. It was quite different for me, so I hope you might be interested in reading my story.

I first met Dave when we were the two new boys at a certain school which I will not name. It’s hard being new anywhere which is why I guess we teamed up right away. Dave was always the leader but I was happy to follow, and we did all the crazy things that boys do. The “Two Musketeers - Dave and Mike’ they called us.

We were around the same size and weight in those early days, but as we headed into our teens, Dave shot up like an oak tree, until he was nearly 6ft with broad shoulders and a lean athletic body. I on the other hand lagged behind and stopped my growing at 5ft 7 inches. I was slim and also athletic, but it was Dave that all the girls started to hang around. It didn’t affect our friendship though. One thing we both loved was tennis, and in our early teens we were quite good, and evenly matched, but as Dave grew and I lagged behind, so the matches always went his way with his powerful serves and strokes. I learned to be clever as a means of keeping up with him but resigned myself to losing gracefully.

I had let my hair grow long as was the fashion then and tied it in a ponytail when I played tennis. I remember one occasion when a miss-hit from me flew over the fencing into the nearby park. The ball was picked up by an old man walking his dog and as he threw it back, he called out - “There you are Missy.” I opened my mouth to let fly a retort but then thought better of it. The old guy had bad eyesight, no doubt about it. I heard Dave suppress a laugh and turned to glare at him. In retrospect perhaps that was when the seed was sown.

After each set, we were in the habit of sitting down for a drink, and it was one day a couple of months later that that seed started to germinate. Unlike me, Dave was so enthusiastic he had joined a tennis club, and today he had some exciting news.

“The annual tournament is coming up soon,” he started “and that millionaire guy who joined recently has offered the committee cash prizes for the winners as well as the usual trophy. Five thousand dollars for each division winner, plus other smaller prizes. “

I whistled. “Five thousand dollars! I could certainly use that.”

Dave grinned. “That’s why I’m entering each division - singles, doubles and mixed doubles.”

“If you do well, there’s a tidy sum for you.” I said.

“But there’s a problem,” he went on “I’ve got my doubles partner of course, but all the best girl players in the club have been snapped up for the mixed doubles, and I can’t see any chance of doing well with the ones that are left.”

“I’m sorry to hear that” I replied.

“Are you? Well perhaps you could help me.”

“I don’t know any good girl players.” I replied.

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.” he replied, “You remember that old guy who called you ‘Missy’? He set me thinking - maybe you could stand in as my girl partner for the mixed doubles, what do you think?”

“What do I think? I think you’re stark raving mad. He was an old guy with bad eyesight. Even if I agreed to it, we’d never get away with it.”

“But what if we could?” he persisted.

“Well for starters it’s a bit like cheating. Two guys against another guy and a girl? That doesn’t seem fair.”

He grinned. “You haven’t seen our top girl players. They’d give the Williams sisters a good game. Believe me, it’s not cheating to play against them, but without someone of your standard I don’t stand a chance.”

Did I mention Dave was always the leader and very persuasive? I always found it so hard to refuse anything he asked of me, even this idea, crazy though it was. I decided I had to show him how mad it was by pretending to agree to do it.

“OK. Well, if you can find some way of making me look totally convincing as a girl, then I’ll do it, but remember, if they see through me, then you are the one in big trouble.”

Dave grinned that grin that was starting to annoy me. “It’s a deal,” he said, “and I know exactly who could transform you, my sister Jenny with whom I share an apartment.”

I had met Jenny once or twice, an amazingly pretty girl who had a football-playing boyfriend of gigantic proportions, which was why I never even thought of trying to take things further. But the chance to spend some time in her company was quite an attraction.

Dave pulled out his phone on the spot and rang her. I couldn’t hear much of what was said, but when he rang off his grin if anything had widened,

“You’re on.” He said, “How about after the next set?”

Jenny opened the apartment door for us, and as usual my heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

“Please tell him he’s crazy.” I said, but she smiled and murmured “Well let's see what we can do.”

“Can I watch?” said Dave but she firmly told him to go and watch television while she and I went to her bedroom to see what miracle she could perform. Her bedroom was so pretty and feminine, walls painted pink and lots of flower pictures and fluffy toys everywhere. She sat me down on a chair in front of her mirror but put a towel over it.

“I only want you to see the results at the end,” she said.

I’ve never really watched a girl apply her make-up, but now as she set to work on me, I began to realise that it is quite a business and takes a deal of time. One of my other interests is amateur theatre, so I was quite used to dressing up and even having make-up applied, although never this type of make-up, of course. After applying a number of items, foundation, blusher, eyeliner, lipstick etc, Jenny stood back and looked at me with a critical eye.

“That’s not too bad,” she said. "Now for your hair. Thank goodness you've grown it long.

She set about brushing and styling it, tutting that it really needed a wash and proper styling.

“Can I see?” I was anxious to see the result.

“There’s a problem.” She replied. “You may look like a girl from the neck up, but the rest of you is male. You need the right clothes to put your face in context. In other words, you need to wear a dress.”

This was going further than I anticipated, and you could say it was a defining moment in my life. I could have said ‘No’ but I didn’t. Was it because I could never refuse Jenny anything, or was it the actor in me wondering if I could be convincing in a very different role? Whatever the reason, I agreed to her request.

“One thing more, you really need to wear a bra to make the dress look right.”

I opened my mouth to protest and then shut it. “Alright,” I said with a sigh.

Jenny sorted through her lingerie drawer and came up with a plain sports bra, which she helped me into, and she filled out the cups with rolled up stockings. Then she went to her closet and came back with a pretty summer dress.

“This should fit you alright,” she said. I stepped into it and she drew it up my body, guided my arms into the little puff sleeves and then drew up the zip at the back.

“Now you can see yourself,” she declared, and pulled the towel off the mirror.

I stared at the mirror. Looking back at me was a girl who could be my twin sister if I had one. For once I was speechless.

“Right. Let’s go and see what Dave thinks.” said Jenny and taking my hand she led me into the lounge room. Dave was sprawled on the couch watching a football match.

“Dave” said Jenny “This is Michelle.”

Dave glanced up politely, dragging his eyes from the screen, and then he did the classic ‘double-take’ of the old silent film comedies. He stood up and frankly stared at me and let out his breath slowly.

“I can’t believe it, sis,” he said slowly. “Well Mike, err Michelle, you have to admit my sister is a genius.”

I couldn’t deny it, and with that came the realisation that I might have to be Dave’s mixed doubles partner after all.

“But wait a minute,” I said. “Looking like a girl is only half of it, I’d need to move and sound like one to be convincing.”

“I can help you with that.” said Jenny. “We’ve got two weeks, and I’m sure it can be done — you’re an actor, remember?”

So began an amazing two weeks. Each day I went round to the apartment and dressed as Michelle. Jenny taught me how to walk and sit, and how to make my voice more feminine. This was probably the hardest part of all, but I spent hours copying Jenny’s voice, and this was where being an actor came into its own. I won’t go into all the techniques I used, you can look them up on many websites, but the end result was a very passable female voice.

Of course, we hadn’t forgotten the tennis, and I had frequent practice sessions with Dave. Jenny had a tennis dress she loaned me. The first time I put it on over my boxers she gasped “You can’t wear them, don’t forget the skirt is very short.” Instead, she found some soft white cotton panties for me, and I had to admit that dressing fully as a female helped me to ‘be’ a girl. I remember the first time I played tennis with Dave, wearing that tennis dress. He seemed unusually distracted and I actually won the set 6-4.

“Come on Dave.” I cried “Focus!” He laughed and admitted it was a good thing we’d both be on the same side of the net when we played doubles.

The Friday before the tournament, I had the whole day off and went round to the apartment. Jenny had a surprise for me.

“Today is graduation day.” she declared. “You’re going to get dressed and then we’re going out shopping. The world is ready to meet Michelle.”

I confess that a quiver of fear shook me, but Jenny would not take ‘No’ for an answer.

As we entered the shopping mall, I was convinced that some child with its honesty would call out “Why is that man wearing a dress, Mommy?” but it didn’t happen and slowly I started to relax. We passed many women and small children and no-one took any notice of us. We were two girls together as we went through the clothes stores and sat down for lunch.

Jenny patted my hand and whispered, “You’ve passed the final test.”

I agreed but thought to myself, ‘The final test comes tomorrow at the tournament. Can we really get away with this?’

Game, Set, and Match. Part 2
by Bronwen Welsh

Dave and Mike (playing as Michelle) are doing well in the tournament, but at the last minute it seems that their plan will crash and burn.

Part 2

The next morning I was at Jenny and Dave’s apartment bright and early to get ready. I forgot to mention that Jenny had managed to acquire a couple of breast forms for me - much more realistic than rolled up stockings, they looked and felt quite real - I discovered later that they even bounced as I jumped to hit a tennis ball! Two pairs of tight white panties made sure that I did not have any embarrassing revelations in that area. If my true sex was revealed, Dave would very likely be thrown out of the club, but if I had used the ladies’ changing rooms, that could have led to a whole heap of trouble, so I was going to get dressed at his apartment for however many sessions my competition lasted.

Jenny set about doing my make-up. I was starting to learn that a woman’s make-up must be tailored to the time of day and the situation, and in my case especially, it was important that I got it right and didn’t draw attention to myself for all the wrong reasons. Jenny applied a light foundation and just a touch of lipstick.

“You’ll get hot playing tennis.” she said, “So you don’t want mascara or eye shadow that might run. You don’t want to look like Alice Cooper do you?” and we both laughed.

“I’ll make you really glamorous for the dinner after the tournament!” she went on. I was a bit startled. I’d heard about the dinner in passing and now it seemed taken for granted that I’d be going.

Dave drove us to the tennis club. I hadn’t been there before, and I was very impressed. The clubrooms were large and modern, and there were six tennis courts, including one that had stands erected around it for this tournament. This was referred to as the ‘Centre Court’ and I sincerely hoped we wouldn’t be playing there.

With prizemoney at stake, almost every club member had entered the tournament, and this had caused the committee some problems. They extended the tournament to two weekends and had also decided that the first round would consist of matches of a single set, including a tie-break, if necessary, thus halving the contestants on the first day.

Our first match took place an hour later. Our opponents, John and Lesley looked a fit young couple, and I suspected the match wouldn’t be easy. I was right. I was getting distracted by the way my ‘breasts’ bounced despite the sports bra I was wearing. I served for the second game and lost it. It crossed my mind that if we lost, then I would be taking no further part in the tournament. Dave said nothing, but I glanced at him and there was disappointment on his face. I decided that I must give it my best shot, come what may. We fought back, and two games later we had broken back and were square again. It was a really hard match but in the end, we scraped in 7-6 after a tie-break. As we shook hands afterwards, Lesley said to me

“You played really well. You should join the club.” I smiled back and said I’d think about it. Afterwards when we were alone Dave said he thought we had blown it

“Would I ever let you down?” I replied, thinking he would never know how close I had been to throwing the match.

Dave had an hour’s rest before he had his first singles match and I thought, not for the first time that fit though he was, had he taken on too much entering three divisions of the competition. I decided I must play the part of girlfriend and went to watch and cheer him on. It was a tightly fought match, but Dave won 6-4, and afterwards I ran up to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, at which he looked slightly startled. He didn’t have much of a break before he had to play doubles with his friend Jack, and once more I was there to cheer them on. They were a bit unfortunate to get the club champion and his friend as opponents in the first round, and although they fought long and hard, they lost 6-7. Dave looked a bit disconsolate as they walked off. Now as Mike I might have said “Bad luck” or even made a joke of it, but I felt that was not really appropriate from a girlfriend, so once again I went up and gave him a hug and kiss, and told him how well he had played, reminding him there were still two divisions where he could win. I was so relieved that we’d managed to win our mixed doubles match and thought that with one less division to worry about, Dave might be more successful in the others.

I’m sure you don’t want a ball-by-ball description of the tournament, so I will just say that by the end of the second day we had reached the semi-finals of the mixed doubles (I had come to terms with my ‘breast bounce’ problem) and Dave was in the semi-finals of the singles. We sat exhausted in the apartment, Dave on the couch, legs wide apart, one over the arm of the chair. As Mike I might have done likewise but now I sat rather primly, legs together in another chair. Being Michelle was really growing on me, and I felt a certain reluctance to return to being Mike. It was all very strange.

The week went by, and we met up twice for practice, again with me as Michelle, and suddenly the weekend was upon us, and we were heading back to the tennis club.

Dave played his semi-final match first and it was quite an epic struggle. He finally won 7-6 4-6 10-8, and when he came off the court, he looked very tired. Fortunately, the first of the men’s doubles semi-final involved Brian, who together with Jean were to play us in our mixed doubles semi. This gave us nearly two hours break before we were to play.

Both men having played matches evened things up and we finally won 6-4 6-4. I confess that playing under false pretenses was weighing on my mind, even though Jean hit the ball at least as hard as I did. Suddenly we were in the finals, and I felt a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness. This meant a match on the ‘Centre Court’ with all the club watching.

Dave had one more match to play and I was glad to be just watching and cheering him on because I was feeling quite tired. Bruce was the club champion, and I don’t know whether it was a touch of over-confidence, as he had beaten Dave several times in the past, but this time Dave was playing as I’d never seen him play before. I was calling out encouragement and suddenly noticed that a rather pretty blonde girl sitting close by was also very vocal in her support for Dave. I found myself glaring at her and thinking ‘How dare she! Dave is my boyfriend. My boyfriend? What on earth was I thinking?’ I suddenly realized that I was jealous and when Dave finally walked off the court exhausted but victorious, I rushed up to him, flung my arms around his neck and hugged him enthusiastically to stake my claim on him. The funny thing was I didn’t feel like I was acting - I really meant it. Dave looked a little puzzled at this overt display of affection but played along with it.

Later, back at Dave’s apartment, I said

“I wasn’t too over-the-top with the girlfriend hugs, was I?”

Dave paused for a moment before replying

“Noooo, I don’t think so.” But there was something about the tone of voice he used. For a moment I found myself wishing I really was a girl. They seem to understand these things better than men. I wondered what Dave was really thinking.

“Well, just one more day to go.” I changed the subject. I was thinking ‘Just one more day as Michelle and then I don’t have an excuse to be her anymore.’ Somehow the thought made me sad.

That night I found it difficult to sleep, and when I did there were strange dreams which I couldn’t quite remember when I awoke but I did know that Dave was in them and that I was trying to reach him and couldn’t.

I woke at dawn, feeling exhausted - hardly the thing for someone about to play a finals tennis match. At Jenny and Dave’s apartment, after I had dressed and Jenny had checked my make-up, we were all rather subdued, thinking of the day ahead.

There was an air of excitement at the club and many people came up and wished us good luck. Ours was the first match of the finals, so at least we didn’t have to wait around too long. About fifteen minutes before it was due to start, I just knew I had to go the bathroom. I’d avoided that as much as possible during the previous days. At least there was a separate entrance, and I didn’t have to go through the female change rooms.

“Don’t be too long.” said Dave “The match starts soon.”

I promised I wouldn’t and went in through the door marked ‘Ladies’. I had only just shut the door of the cubicle when I heard two girls walk in talking excitedly.

“Disqualified?” said one.

“Of course” said the other. “They’ve been cheating and now they’re in the finals. I don’t know how they thought they’d get away with it. I overheard two of the committee talking about it and there’ll be an announcement soon.”

“How did they find out?” said the first voice, but the other girl didn’t answer. There was a moments silence and I realized they had seen the closed cubicle door and knew someone else was there.

“I’ll tell you later.” said the second girl. I waited until they left and an extra few minutes. I was shaking. After all we had been through and now at the last minute, it was all for nothing. Worse still, we would be humiliated in front of the whole club. Slowly I gathered myself together and with a trembling hand opened the cubicle door. I washed my hands and stepped out into the bright sunlight.

Game, Set, and Match Part 3

by Bronwen Welsh

Mike, competing as Michelle in a mixed doubles tournament overheard some girls talking about cheating and is convinced it refers to him. Now he and his tennis partner Dave will have to face the music.

Part 3

Dazzled by the sun, I almost stumbled straight into Dave who was waiting anxiously outside the washroom.

“Where on earth have you been?” he demanded. “We’ve only got five minutes to get to the court or we’ll default and lose the match.”

Then he stopped and looked hard at me. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

I opened my mouth to reply but just then one of the officials came hurrying up.

“Michelle, Dave!” she called “You’ll default if you aren’t on court in five minutes!”

The she too noticed my face and said “What’s wrong? You don’t look well.”

I managed a wan smile. Obviously, she didn’t know, or else they wanted us on court to be exposed in front of everyone.

“An upset stomach.” I replied “I think it’s nerves.”

She smiled sympathetically. “I’ve had the same thing happen to me, but you’ll be alright when you get on court.”

With that, Dave grabbed my hand, and we flew to the court where he had already taken my bag and racquet. There was a smattering of applause as we appeared. I felt dazed and even more so when I saw the couple waiting on the other side of the net to play us. I had watched the other semi-final to try and get some tips on our opponents. Lisa and Tim were good players, but they were no match for Ann and Peter, a married couple who were very athletic and brilliant players. Peter had recently started to run professionally, so that’s how good an athlete he was. They had won the match with embarrassing ease, but now here was Lisa and Tim waiting to play us. What on earth was going on?

Just then the club President appeared, and all my fears came back and I felt myself shaking.

“Ladies and gentlemen” he began. “I have an unfortunate announcement to make. Ann and Peter who were to play today have been disqualified and as a result the committee has re-instated Lisa and Tim as finalists in these mixed doubles final.”

The crown buzzed with excitement and comment, and I stepped closer to Dave and said “What on earth’s going on?”

“It’s Peter.” he replied,“he’s been caught taking steroids and he failed a drug test at the athletics club, so the tennis club has thrown him out.”

I was in total shock. Somehow, I pulled myself together and we started to play. I won’t say it was because of all that happened, because Lisa and Tim played well, but we lost the match to them 4-6 7-6 3-6. Dave was a good sport and didn’t blame me, even when I told him afterwards about the bathroom incident and how it had affected me.

Following our match, we watched the men’s doubles and ladies’ singles finals and then it was time for Dave to play in the men’s singles final. I was more nervous than him I’m sure, but I cheered him on in what turned out to be a thrilling match — some said the best men’s singles final in the club’s history. When it was all over, Dave walked off the winner and I was just so proud of him. I ran up and gave him another hug and kiss, quite the proper thing for a girlfriend to do. What I dared not admit even to myself was that I felt I really was his girlfriend and I loved it.

Back at the apartment as we recounted the day’s events to Jenny, I couldn’t help looking at Dave and thinking what a handsome guy he was and wondering why he didn’t already have a steady girlfriend? I knew that if he had I would be insanely jealous of her now. How things had changed in the past three weeks, and I wondered if we could ever go back to just being ‘good mates’ again.

The following week was an odd one. The tennis club’s annual dinner and trophy presentation was to be held on the Saturday, and I looked forward to it with a mixture of pleasure and sadness - pleasure because I would be there as Dave’s girlfriend, and sadness because this would be the last time I was Michelle.

Dave rang me up mid-week and asked if I’d like to play tennis and I made an excuse. The real reason of course was that I would have been happy to play as Michelle, but there wasn’t any reason I could come up with to do that and I really didn’t want to meet up with him as Mike, at least not before the dinner. Fortunately, Dave accepted my excuse of ‘too much work’ and didn’t press the invitation.

Jenny was going to get me ready for the dinner and told me I should come around to the apartment in the early afternoon of Saturday as ‘it takes much longer for a girl to get ready for a big night out. Guys have it easy.’

The morning of Saturday dawned bright and sunny. I felt nervous and excited and found it hard to eat anything before going to the apartment. I arrived there about 2pm and Jenny greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and the announcement that we were going to ‘have a fun girls’ afternoon together’. It occurred to me that when I had previously thought how great it would be to have her as a girlfriend, I never envisaged it as the sort of relationship we had now.

She insisted that I start off with a long luxurious bath to relax me, and of course I had to shave my legs again and every other part of me that would be visible in the dress I was to wear. Then when I returned to the bedroom she showed me the new lingerie she had bought for me — a pretty bra, panties and suspender belt set in rose-pink satin, and a matching short full slip with French lace around the bust and hem. Sheer stockings with lace tops lay beside the lingerie, together with a spare pair to take along ‘in case of ladders.’

“If a girl wants to feel pretty, she must be pretty from the skin up.” Jenny explained. “It doesn’t matter that no-one else - or perhaps only a special person - sees what you are wearing underneath, you know it and that’s what counts.”

She left me for a few minutes to slip into my new lingerie and I found the feel of the soft satin and nylon against my skin absolutely delightful and knew that Jenny was right - I did feel pretty. Then she came back and started on my hair. I left myself entirely in her hands, and she had decided that a soft natural look was best, so she put my hair into hot rollers to create soft waves. She worked away at my eyebrows again to give them a more feminine look and then set about creating a glamorous look with make-up. How lucky was I that she is a beautician, as she worked away with foundation and blusher, enhanced my eye lashes and added eye shadow, and finally applied lipstick. Again, I was forbidden to look before she was finished. Finally, she styled my hair.

“Now for your dress.” she said “I bought this quite recently and I haven’t even worn it myself yet - I hope you like it.”

I gasped as she took it from the closet and showed it to me. It was a knee-length tangerine cocktail dress in ruched silk satin and looked absolutely gorgeous.

“Oh Jenny!” I felt myself getting teary and she said in mock alarm “Don’t you start crying and ruining your make-up, girl!”

I couldn’t help feeling emotional after all that had happened in the last few weeks. Now this was to be my last day as Michelle, and it seemed I was really going out on a high.

She helped me into the dress, drew up the zip, fussed over how it looked and then produced some matching shoes which fortunately only had two-inch heels and which matched the dress. Finally, I was allowed to look in the mirror.

I could scarcely believe how she had made me look. I was used to seeing myself in girl mode now of course in a tennis dress, but this was altogether different. I didn’t look like a sports-girl, I actually looked glamorous! Jenny had me walk around the room. She had made me try walking in heels the previous week, saying they were absolutely necessary to wear at the dinner, so I had better get used to them. I had of course been given lessons in how to walk like a woman, rather than stride like a man, and after three weeks I was fairly good at it. Wearing heels seemed to enhance this new way of walking. The feeling of wearing this gorgeous dress and the pretty lingerie underneath was something I’d never experienced before, and I started to feel envious of women who could dress this way whenever they liked. Jenny gave me a spritz of perfume and handed me a small clutch bag with spare stockings, powder and lipstick.

While this makeover had been going on, I had been aware that Dave was getting ready too, and now Jenny led me into the lounge room where he was waiting. He was sitting on the sofa, and as he got up and turned to face us, I couldn’t help thinking how handsome he looked in his rented tuxedo, tall, athletic, a picture of masculine beauty.

“Well, what do you think of Michelle?” asked Jenny. Dave stared, like he had been struck dumb. Finally, he seemed to pull himself together and smiled broadly as Jenny joked “Well that’s the first time I’ve seen Dave lost for words!” She dashed off to get her camera.

“Seriously Dave” I said while she was gone “do I look alright?”

“You look great,” he said. “I never knew Mike had such a gorgeous sister.”

I was secretly thrilled at his words. Indeed, it was going to be the perfect evening and the only cloud on the horizon which I refused to even think about, was that I was Michelle for the last time and had to go back to being Mike again tomorrow.

‘But why am I thinking this?’ I thought ‘To Dave I’m still Mike in a dress, and this is the final part of our ruse that started three weeks ago. We achieved what we set out to do, more or less and to think anything else is absurd. I’m just acting this part. Get a grip and stop being stupid.’

Jenny arrived back with the camera and insisted we do several poses for her before saying “Off you go and have a wonderful evening.”

Game, Set, and Match Part 4
by Bronwen Welsh

It is the day of the tennis club dinner and trophy presentation, but Michelle has much more on her mind.

Part 4

Dave and I walked out to his car, and my senses were at fever-pitch with delight at all the sensations I was feeling; the movement of the soft material of the slip and dress against my body and the warm breeze on my legs in their sheer nylon stockings; the click of my heels on the pavement; the subtle aroma of my make-up and scent. I could not resist touching my lips with the tip of my tongue to taste my lipstick. It did cross my mind to wonder if women found such delight as I was feeling, or were they so used to it that they didn’t notice how good it felt? Dave opened the car door for me like a true gentleman and I sat on the seat and swivelled round, legs together as ladies do, making sure that my skirt did not ride up.

We did not speak much during the drive to the tennis club, and then only the sort of conversation that a couple might make on an evening out. There was certainly nothing said about our subterfuge and I was happy with that. I felt so comfortable now being Michelle, I didn’t have to act the part any more, I WAS Michelle. Indeed it was when I went back to being Mike that I felt I was playing a part, and I couldn’t wait to be Michelle again. It may sound odd, but that is how I felt.

We arrived at the club and for a short while split up as the girls and guys gathered in groups - the girls admiring each other’s dresses and appearance, and the guys? Well to be honest, I didn’t care what they were talking about. I was quite comfortable going to the ladies’ room to check my make-up, and of course we did chat a little about the guys and how well they ‘scrubbed up’ in their suits. Pre-dinner drinks and canapés were handed out, and then the announcement was made that we should go into the restaurant for dinner.

Dave and I were seated together on a table for eight with three other couples, and before the first course was served, I realized that I had seen the girl opposite somewhere but where I did not know. She was looking at me with some interest too, and suddenly I felt a slight tremor - she was going to say something I knew.

“Haven’t we met before?” she said, “your face is familiar.” Now the story we had put about was that I normally lived in another state and was visiting for a few weeks which just happened to co-incide with the tournament. Dave stepped in smoothly.

“Maybe you met Michelle’s twin brother Mike?” he suggested “They do look very alike, but Michelle is prettier of course!”

“Oh yes of course, that’s it” she said, “I think you and Mike were playing tennis together.”
I felt I had to make a contribution, so I said, “Yes, we both play, but Mike is better than me.” She seemed satisfied with that, but it was a warning not to become too complacent.

The entrees arrived followed by the main course, and there was general conversation around the table, and I felt able to relax again and enjoy myself. After the main course came the speeches, and trophy and prize presentations. The speeches were mercifully short and to the point. The millionaire was thanked for his generosity and invited to present the prizes. We were called up to the little stage in due course and presented with our trophy which was rather big and ugly as these things tend to be, and also the cheque for second place. Photographs were taken as the presentations were made, and gradually they were worked through until, like the Oscars, the final award was for the Men’s Singles title, and Dave walked up to accept it. I gazed at him thinking how handsome he looked as he acknowledged the applause. I had tried so hard to convince myself that we were just mates, but in my heart of hearts I knew that my feelings ran much deeper than that. I dared not even think the ‘l’ word, much less ever say anything to Dave. I knew that in his eyes we had pulled off a rather daring deception. Oh, there was that word again ‘deception’ and my discomfort level was stronger than ever, but what could I do now? I had agreed to it so I was as guilty as Dave.

I thought the photos were over after the presentation, but no, the photographer wanted more photos, this time with a velvet curtain as a nicer back-drop. He shot a photo of Lisa and Tim with their winner’s trophy, and then my heart skipped as he asked them to kiss for another shot. Then it was our turn, first with the trophy, and then the request for a kiss. My heart raced. We couldn’t refuse, we were supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend. I turned to Dave, and he slowly bent down and our lips touched. I expected a short perfunctory kiss, but that’s not what happened. I felt his lips on mine and they lingered, and suddenly my knees felt weak, and I put my hand on his shoulder to steady myself. The kiss lasted maybe ten seconds, but it felt much longer. Then I heard the photographer laugh and say, “You can stop now, I’ve taken the shot.” Our lips parted and I stood looking at Dave. I knew I was blushing deeply, and my heart was pounding.

Dave looked at me and smiled, and then he said, “I can hear the band playing, let’s go and dance.”

He took my hand (I still hadn’t said a word) and led me into the restaurant where there was a tiny dance floor already filled with couples. Dave took me in his arms and we slowly shuffled around the floor, necessarily close together since there was so little room. My body felt soft and yielding against his as he held me close. My head was spinning. What had just happened? Was the kiss all part of the deception? But surely it didn’t have to go on for so long? I needed to talk to Dave, but what was I going to say? If I was totally mistaken, then our friendship could be over.

Dave as usual took the lead. As the music finished, he said “Let’s go outside for a breath of fresh air. I thought you were going to faint back there when we were being photographed.” He took my hand and we walked out through the glass doors to a patio which was silvery in the light of the full moon. There were other couples out there, but only a few and they seemed too wrapped up in each other to take any notice of us.

Dave seemed a bit nervous, very unlike him. “What happened back there.” he said it as a statement, not a question. He paused and started again. “What happened back there was me doing something I’ve wanted to do for weeks, almost since the first time I saw you as Michelle.” He paused again, he was very nervous. Perhaps it didn’t help that I wasn’t saying anything. “I don’t know how to put this” he went on “but I realized that Michelle was the girl I’ve been looking for all my life and I lo….lo….”

“Love?” I said. He swallowed hard. “I’ve just made the biggest fool of myself and ruined everything haven’t I?”

“Oh no Dave” I said softly as I came into his arms again and we started to kiss, and this time the kiss went for much longer than ten seconds. When we finally broke the kiss, our lips parted reluctantly. Dave’s arms stayed around me, and they felt so strong and protective. I gazed up at him. “I’m sorry I made you say it first, but you were always braver than me, and to be honest, I was too afraid of being thought the biggest fool to say anything as bold. I love you for that.”

“Does this mean?” he began.

“Yes.” I replied “From now on I will always be your Michelle. Will you help me to do that?”

He smiled and kissed me again, a warm soft kiss that told me everything I needed to know.

Epilogue

All the events I described took place just over three years ago. True to my word, I began living full-time as Michelle soon afterwards. I don’t pretend it has all been easy, but every time there was a hard part to go through, Dave was there, my rock. Jenny moved out to live with her footballer boyfriend soon after that, and Dave and I started to live together in his apartment. Jenny gets married next month and I am to be one of her bridesmaids. It won’t be long now until I take the final step and Dave and I can be together in the way we’ve wanted for so long.

I must mention about the mixed doubles prize. Dave agreed with me that we were really bending the rules too far to keep the money, but of course we couldn’t come out and explain why we wanted to return it without opening a major can of worms. We decided to return it in several anonymous donations. Both Dave and I are on the tennis club committee and put quite a bit of work into it, so we feel that perhaps we have worked off our guilt. Since that first tournament together we have made excuses not to compete again, although Dave did win the singles two years in a row and was only narrowly beaten last year. Next year we intend to compete in the mixed doubles again, this time with a clear conscience!