Synopsis:

Can Kristen please Danny as he does her, and at what price?

Story:

Whatever Your Heart Desires Ch. 01
by Cherysse St. Claire  ©

I had never had a problem with men before I met my husband. I never
allowed men to become a problem. Throughout high school, college, then
after, men flocked to me. Tall or short, muscular or slender, boisterous
or introverted — I attracted them all. I made them crazy with desire for
me — and still do. I am not a saint. I am not ashamed to use my looks,
sensual sapphire eyes, long, shapely legs and killer body to get what I
want. My many admirers have called me everything from "boy toy" to
"sexpot" to "drop-dead gorgeous" to "suicide blonde". I don't mind a bit.
If I ‘used' men along the way to advance my career (real estate), provide
creature comforts, or to just have good, nasty sex, well, they used me,
too. Whenever things started to get too complicated, or when I simply got
bored, I moved on to the next. I offer no apologies and have no regrets.

Then I met Danny Davis. I am not going to sit here and tell you he was or
wasn't my type because my ‘type' had two arms, two legs, and a nice, meaty
cock to fill me up and make me cum on demand; everything else was
negotiable. Danny had all of that, packed on a firm, slender,
five-foot-seven-inch frame. I learned during the obligatory, ritualistic
‘small talk' phase of our mating dance he was a freelance writer. With his
long legs, he had been a natural for Cross-Country in high school and
college. He continued to run after graduation, which, later on, helped
explain his phenomenal endurance. I have a taste for pretty people and
Danny was very pretty, more than any man had business being. Those
glittering, seductive green eyes of his could swallow me up without a
trace. I just had to have him — and did.

You always hear men brag about their ability to ‘go all night'. Danny just
did the deed. As he was ripping the clothes from my body, he purred he
would give me "whatever your heart desires." I desired a lot — and got it.
God, we fucked like animals that first night. He took me in every hole and
every position I could think of. He literally reduced me to a mass of
trembling, babbling, incoherent gooseflesh by dawn. Of all the men I had
had, he was the first to put my needs, my orgasms (I lost count) ahead of
his own. When I finally begged him to stop, that I just couldn't do it
again, he held me in his arms, cuddled with me, while we watched the sun
come up. There was no way I was gonna let this be just a one-nighter!

The days passed. Danny turned out to be a lot more than just a good lay.
He was smart, funny, romantic, spontaneous, unprepossessing. He made me
laugh. He made me cry — happy cry. He made me think. We usually shacked up
in my home, rather than his apartment (let's be real; real estate agents
can afford to live better than freelance writers). He adored my house and
took as much pride in it as I did. Whenever he stayed over, he would
invariably pick up, clean, even vacuum around the house while I was at
work. In any other relationship, that alone would be worth the price of
admission. With Danny, there was so much more. He could even cook, and
didn't mind spoiling me with dinner on the table when I walked in from a
hard day selling homes. Being with him just felt so natural, so right. I
was addicted, and he was my fix….

He teased me relentlessly, shamelessly with his raw sexuality in a
thousand different ways. I say "shamelessly" as though it was a conscious,
deliberate act on his part. The more I got to know him, the more I
believed it wasn't. He appeared to be genuinely unaware of the effect he
was having on me — and on other women I noticed noticing him wherever we
went. They weren't casual glances, either. I know when a tigress is sizing
up a cut of USDA Prime; been there, done that. I am also fully aware of
what said tigress's next step will be. Did I get possessive of this
marvelous hunk of manflesh? Uh-uh, Honey; I got downright territorial!
Imagine me, Kristen Connor, liberated girl-about-town, all but dragging
this poor, sweet, accommodating boy to the altar, just to make certain no
other bitch could get her claws into him!

I warned him up front, before we exchanged vows. As much as I wanted,
needed him in my life, I wasn't going to promise to be a one-man woman.
Then and now, if an attractive cock dangles itself in my face, I am going
to rise to the occasion. I did, too. That first time, it wasn't so much
the pain of betrayal that registered in my husband's eyes as it was the
sense of disappointment. Whatever his personal feelings, he accepted me,
for all my flaws, and never said an unkind word about it. To his credit,
he never had to.

Gradually, I came to realize none of my lovers came close to satisfying me
in the ways Danny did. Sure, I got off - in a purely physical sense. None
of them touched me emotionally, none even tried, the way my husband did.
For all my protestations of wanting and needing him, I finally understood
I loved him, in a way I had never cared about another person in my life. I
didn't give up my trysts completely, but went to great lengths to make
Danny understand they were just sex — almost always a one-shot fling — and
nothing more. There was never a possibility I would want it to be more.
Danny had ruined me for other relationships in the best possible way.

I was deliriously happy for four years. The tension began to rise during
the fifth. It wasn't that the sex had gone bad, stale, or become
increasingly infrequent; far from it. Danny was still the most skillful
(he had had me as a teacher), considerate, attentive lover I had ever had.
Gawd, that talented, tickling, tantalizing tongue of his! He could lave me
for hours, taunting and teasing my nipples, pussy, clit, and all over my
body. He had the lightest, most delicate touch, too — unless he was
pinching, nipping, and sucking my sensitive nipples, which he knew would
launch me into orbit.

The piece de resistance was that eight-inch cock. It had a flaring,
bulbous head and fattened out really big towards the base. When he was
filling me up, he regularly brought me to the most gut-wrenching,
mind-blowing multiple orgasms. I just kept cumming and cumming like there
was no tomorrow. That was because the man was like a fucking machine; he
never stopped.

That was the problem; he never stopped. I know what you are thinking. Are
you insane? How could that be a PROBLEM? Simple. He never stopped because
he never came, not once, in all the times we had intercourse. I couldn't
even make him cum orally — and I am no slouch when it comes to giving
blowjobs! Oh, he could get himself off. He usually did that later on, when
I wasn't around — unless I insisted on being there beside him, sharing it
with him. If I asked him what he had been thinking about when he came, he
invariably replied it was how happy I made him. Yeah, right.

For his part, he never complained, never held it against me, never seemed
to give it a second thought. He didn't have to; I did. I loved my husband,
truly, madly, deeply, and wanted with all my heart to return to him the
gift of sexual and emotional fulfillment he had bestowed upon me. Despite
my best efforts, I was unable to do that. I had never had a problem
getting a guy off before. Now here I was, married to the most incredible,
wonderful guy on Earth, and I couldn't make him cum. For the first time in
my life, I had performance anxiety — and it was making me an emotional
wreck!

I was rushed one morning. Danny had already left for an appointment with
one of his regular clients and would be gone all day. I was running late
for the office. Today was a ‘triple-witching day'; I had to pay the
electric, cable, and cell phone bills. We were set up to pay our bills via
online banking, so I sat down at the desk. Danny had obviously used the
computer that morning, probably to check his e-mail. He must have been
either distracted or in a hurry, as I was at that moment; he had left the
machine up and logged into his account. Danny never did that. He belonged
to the school of thought that you shut down the machine when not in use to
save electricity and prevent unnecessary wear and tear on the hard drive
and monitor, not trusting ACPI to do the job. Since I was in a hurry, I
simply accessed the Internet through his account, rather than logging off
and signing on under my own - a first for me.

I opened the browser, clicked on Favorites, then clicked the link to the
bank's web site. The bill paying took about five minutes. I was about to
close the browser when a thought occurred to me, something that had
subconsciously registered while scanning the Favorites directory tree. I
clicked on Favorites again and there it was; a folder named Dark Desires.
Be honest. Wouldn't you be curious enough to want to know what such a
folder might contain? I was.

After about twenty minutes, I called the office to say I wouldn't be in
that day. After that, I browsed the bookmarked websites for a couple of
hours. Danny had set up the subscription sites for automatic login, so I
was able to surf their content freely. There were several story sites
bookmarked. Some of the story and author links were highlighted,
indicating he had recently accessed them. I read those first. Acting on a
hunch, I browsed Danny's Documents folder next. That provided enough
reading material for several more hours. Eventually, I tired of staring at
the screen. I set up the Favorites and Documents folders to be shared
across accounts, shut down the computer, and went out for some fresh air.

At least, now I knew. That the situation existed, and other women had had
to face it, was not exactly news. I had just never had to confront it
before on a personal level. After reading the stories and browsing
members' forums, I also had a wide spectrum of the reactions of other
women facing similar situations.

More often than not, the first reaction of these women was a sense of
betrayal. I could see their point, but for some reason, could not share
it. Glass houses, I thought at first; I was in no position to cast the
first stone. Unlike me, if Danny was guilty of anything, it was a sin of
omission; something he hadn't revealed about his ‘dark desires'. Other
women had used that easy excuse to gain a sense of moral superiority,
regardless of their own transgressions. I wasn't ‘other women' — and
recognized the cop-out for what it was.

These same women had allegedly responded to their partners' revelations in
a variety of ways. Some were ludicrous and patently fiction. Others were
hateful in a way I could never feel towards the man who had given me so
much. Still others were beyond bizarre. A precious few were genuine erotic
turn-ons. When I recognized the latter for what they were, I realized this
new scenario held at least the possibility of being a positive experience
for both of us.

I had a lot to sort out while I walked. I examined how I felt, how I
thought Danny must feel, what, if anything, I wanted to do about both, and
how that would affect our relationship. Most importantly, I had to examine
what really was important; to me, to us and about us. I could have dwelled
on the subject for days, weeks, months, as had some of the women I had
read about. That I didn't need to should have immediately told me
something about me.

As I approached the house on the return leg of my walk, I had a pretty
good handle on how I felt and how I would approach this. Before I
committed to anything else, I needed to administer a little test. The
garage door was now open. Danny's car was parked next to mine. Before he
had left that morning, we had toyed with the idea of going out for dinner
after I got home from work. Sorry Sweetheart. I have a different agenda
for us right now….

Danny was standing by the coffee table in the living room when I entered.
His suit coat was still draped over his forearm and he had not yet removed
his tie. He couldn't have arrived more than five minutes before. My
husband beamed a smile my way.

"Hi, Sweetheart," he called. "I saw your car. Did you get off er…."

That was as far as he got before I reached him, pressed firmly on his
chest with both hands and backed him across the room, through the doorway,
down the hall, into the master bedroom, and flat on his back on the
spacious California King bed. Without uttering a word, I all but ripped
the clothing from his body. Mine were added to the heap on the floor
moments later. I then licked and sucked his already-semi-hard dick to its
full glory. Still silent and staring intently into his eyes, I climbed
aboard, impaled myself on his fantastic fuckshaft and rode it for all I
was worth.

"So, does this mean you're happy to see me?", he inquired glibly.

"Oooo, yeah, Baby," I purred. "I have missed you so much today. I was a
bad girl, Sweetie. I played hooky, stayed home, surfed the Web and found a
lot of hot Adult sites. I looked at pictures, streamed audio and video,
read stories, and scanned the member forums. It all got me so hot, I
couldn't wait for you to get home to give me some relief."

"What the Hell were you looking at that got you like this?", Danny asked
incredulously.

"Alternative Sex, Baby," I cooed. "Really hot stuff, like I've never seen
before. Man-man. Woman-woman. Threesomes. Gang-bangs. Bondage. There were
even some gorgeous, sexy T-girls."

I could feel his cock lurch inside me. I paused my verbal seduction to
take a deep breath, never breaking stride on his magnificent love pole.

"Sweetie, those girly-boys were so fucking hot," I gushed. "Some of them
had really big tits, tiny, hand-span waists and full, luscious asses. They
looked as good as any of the porn goddesses we watch in the bedroom. They
dressed the same way; real slutty, the way we like. Their cocks were big
and beautiful, too, Lover. Some of them were just like yours. That was
such a turn-on!

"I watched streaming video of T-girls fucking genetic girls, T-girls
fucking guys, and T-girls being fucked BY guys. Gawd, I almost creamed in
my panties right then and there. Baby, please don't be offended by this. I
had this wicked image in my head. It was you, as a T-girl. You had great
big tits, a tiny little waist, full, flaring hips and a big bubble butt.
You were dressed in a scoop-necked, cropped tank top that showed off your
big boobs and belly ring, a tight little leather miniskirt that didn't
even cover the tops of your stockings, and killer high heels, just like
the porn stars wear. You looked like an absolute slut. You were made up
like a slut, too.

"There you were, lying on the bed just like you are now. I was riding your
cock, just like I am now. I was saying to myself: ‘This is so good, this
is so fucking hot, I don't ever want it to end.'…."

I had been fingering myself even as I rode his cock. My finger was
drenched, slick with pussyjuice. I reached beneath me and slowly,
carefully inserted it into Danny's tight, puckered little hole. I worked
it in and out as I spoke.

"Then I thought: ‘Why should I be the only one having fun here? I should
bring home a man, a real stud, and he can do us both. I would love to
watch my baby get fucked by a guy with a great big cock. Better still, I
could bring home two studs. That way, my girlfriend and I could get fucked
side by side'…."

I thought his first blast was going to blow me right to Mars. The
subsequent six were just as intense. My torrid, stream-of-consciousness
monolog had already brought me close to losing my mind. The really wicked
thing was, envisioning Danny as a T-girl, doing the things I had said he
was doing, really had turned me on! His eruption was all it took to push
me over the edge — and it was a long, long fall….

It began in the pit of my stomach, spreading outward with the force and
speed of a tsunami. All I could see was stars exploding behind my eyes.
All I could hear was a roaring in my ears as blood rushed to my brain. All
I could feel was the waves of ecstasy washing over me, engulfing me,
pounding me from the inside out — and Danny's magnificent cock, gushing
its molten lava deep into my pussy. For all the men I had had, for all the
sexual freedom I had enjoyed, I had never before felt so fulfilled, so
empowered, as I did at that moment.

If anyone had seen Danny and me cuddling together in bed, they would have
sworn we were freezing to death. We both trembled uncontrollably, long
after the waves of our shared orgasm had faded, so intense had the
pleasure been. I felt my lover's seed seeping out of me, trickling down
the inside of my thigh. In my mind, it felt like gallons oozing out of my
love nest. I had administered my little test and elicited a positive
response. Positive? How about ‘off the charts'? Whether Danny had ‘passed'
or ‘failed' now depended upon how I perceived the ‘question.'

One point was undeniable; we — both of us — had just experienced the most
intense sex we had ever had. I had anticipated Danny's response to my
verbal seduction; I had not anticipated my own. Gazing into my husband's
gorgeous emerald eyes, I realized there was a side to my own sexuality, in
addition to his, I had never suspected to exist. Of course it would be
Danny, of all my lovers, who would reveal it to me, show me a level of
pleasure I never knew existed. I owed it to both of us to explore it. I
felt butterflies in my stomach as I realized I had just answered my own
question — and charted our course.

We addressed the pile of clothing hastily discarded on the floor, hanging
up or tossing into the laundry hamper as required. Danny helped me change
the sheets as well. The event marked another first for us; that we had to.
We were like teenagers experiencing First Love again. At the time, I could
not possibly have been happier.

We showered together, taking turns soaping and washing each other. We
showered each other in soft, tender kisses and caresses, too. When we were
clean and patted dry, we returned to the bedroom to dress. It was
mid-evening. We both knew we would not be going out again. Simultaneous
glances toward the big bed affirmed where we would spend the rest of the
evening and night — at least, after a little supper. We would dress
accordingly.

A long lowboy dresser extended along most of one wall of our bedroom. It
served us both; Danny on one side, me on the other. He had stepped to his
side, opened the top drawer and reached for a clean pair of briefs. I
intercepted his hand, slipping my naked body between my husband and the
dresser. With a little smile on my lips, I slid the drawer closed with the
backs of my thighs. Taking him by the wrist, I took two steps to my left —
to my side of the dresser. I opened my top drawer, glanced down briefly,
then withdrew a pair of sheer black nylon bikini panties. I slipped two
fingers from each hand into opposite sides of the waistband, then held
them up for my mate's inspection. I raised one eyebrow and smiled,
challenging him with my sapphire gaze.

"Indulge me," I purred.

We were at a crossroads. Our relationship could go either way; down the
same road we had already traveled, or in an entirely new direction. I had
hopes, but took nothing for granted. The choice was his to make. There was
uncertainty in Danny's eyes, perhaps just a touch of fear. I countered
with my smile, exuding a aura of certainty and serenity I did not feel. In
truth, I was just as uncertain and frightened as he.

My love accepted the proffered panties, bent down, slipped one foot
through, then the other. He slowly, carefully raised the panties up his
calves and over his knees. I paused his efforts at mid-thigh, taking the
time to gently tuck his ‘package' between his thighs. If my suspicions
were correct, it would be springing to life again sooner, rather than
later. Until then, I wanted him — her — to present a smooth front. Once
that task was complete, I helped him snuggle the waistband up over his
hips. The tight, sheer fabric clung snugly to his taut, firm buttcheeks.
Through the filmy material, it did appear he had a pussy, rather than a
good-sized ‘clitty' and family jewels.

I chose a sheer red nylon-and-lace peignoir for myself and slipped into
it. I then took Danny by both wrists and led him across the bedroom to my
huge walk-in closet. I slipped into the floor-length sheer red nylon and
lace dressing gown that matched my peignoir, then slipped my feet into red
marabou-trimmed mules with clear Lucite five-inch stiletto heels.
Normally, we were about the same height. In these slippers, I towered over
my husband, lending me just the right air of authority.

I selected a black silk mid-thigh-length kimono and silently held it open
for him. He yielded without a word, turning to allow me to help his arms
into the sleeves. I slipped the smooth fabric over his shoulders and
turned him to face me. Wrapping the two halves around him, I cinched the
belt with a sharp, authoritative tug, holding the wrap firmly in place. I
then stepped forward and kissed my mate lightly on the lips.

"Thank you, Danielle," I purred sensually. "Now, would you accompany me to
the kitchen? I believe we have both worked up a bit of an appetite."

I took ‘her' arm in mine, turned, and made for the door. My stiletto heels
click-click-clicked on the hardwood floors of the bedroom, hallway, living
room and dining room, then the tiled floors of the kitchen. I hadn't
offered ‘Danielle' pause, any opportunity to interject. Nor had ‘she'
attempted to, accepting my authority and ‘her' feminine appellation
without protest. My heart soared. I felt ten feet tall.

We prepared a platter of Cheddar and Jack slices, crackers, grapes and
strawberries. I opened a bottle of Chablis and fetched two wineglasses. We
placed everything on a tray which ‘Danielle' carried as we returned to our
bedroom. I sincerely hoped it would not be obvious my heart was hammering
madly in my chest. We had taken a small first step, but a significant one.
I had no idea how long this journey would last or where it would end, and
would have to make up the rules as we went.

I could sense the danger here. One misstep, a single word misspoken or
taken out of context could lead to disaster. Despite the risks, I was
looking forward to this brave, new future with renewed optimism — for us,
our relationship, and me personally. There was still uncertainty in those
emerald eyes, a touch of fear. Was it just my imagination, or was there
also a flicker of… hope? Only time would tell.

Notes:

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Synopsis:

Kristen sets out to create his "dream girl" - and hers.

Story:

Whatever Your Heart Desires Ch. 02
by Cherysse St. Claire  ©

I would love to say I had The Grand Plan: How To Transform Your Husband
Into A Ravishing Fem-Toy, A To Z. The fact was, I didn't have a clue. It
wasn't a topic normally covered by the Multiple Listing Service. I really
didn't think the community library was going to be much help, either. I
couldn't even find a copy of Feminization For Dummies in any of the local
bookstores — not that I expected to. I did have the following assets: 1) a
husband I flat-out adored who, apparently, had harbored intense feminine
inclinations for a long time; 2) a newly-discovered penchant of my own to
explore said inclinations for our mutual pleasure (oh yeah, was it ever!);
3) the financial wherewithal to do so; 4) friends I could trust; 5) the
Internet; 6) instinct; 7) Danny's surreal natural beauty and physiology
ideally suited for feminization.

Asset Numbers One and Two were givens. I would incorporate Numbers Three
and Four as needed. Number Five was a Godsend; the best 'library' and
public forum I could ever want. In the days following our initial
'revelation', I became a Web Junkie (away from Danny's presence, of
course; I needed the privacy), beginning with the sites Danny had
bookmarked and expanding my knowledge base from there. In the course of my
cyber-surfing, I met and curried the friendship of a number of
knowledgeable, experienced people — male, female, and in-between — who
knew a lot more about the subject than I did. Through them, I outlined a
general strategy to make 'Danielle' a fem-toy we could both enjoy.

That she would be a fem-toy was a given as well. Why would I want to
create another serious, level-headed, success-driven career woman like
myself? How boring was that? We didn't really need Danny's income,
although I would never dream of denying him the opportunity to do
something he found fulfilling. What I wanted was a sexy, saucy playmate to
help me enjoy my free time, someone who would be fun for both of us. If,
later on, I also convinced him being a fem-toy was more rewarding than
writing the occasional magazine article or essay, there was nothing wrong
with that, was there? At the moment, that was not a pressing issue. I did
not yet know how often we would want to enjoy 'Danielle'. A couple times a
month? Evenings and weekends? Full-time? I would trust my instincts to say
"enough". Of course, all plans are subject to change....

Some of it would be easy. Danny and I had had a mutual taste for kink from
the beginning of our relationship. We enjoyed new porn releases together,
frequently attended "Gentleman's Clubs" together, and had even made
occasional forays to BDSM clubs. As a result, we had identified some
well-defined common traits we liked in 'bad girls'. For the most part,
they represented the complete antithesis of our conservative, white-collar
working lives. I relished the thought of incorporating some of those
traits into my new 'girlfriend'.

Even that might prove to be easy. First, Danny had the 'right stuff'
(Asset Number Seven). If he was too small, slender, and pretty to fit the
image of a "man's man", he was perfect for Womanhood. Our visits to the
bondage clubs had revealed Danny had a nascent submissive streak. I had
occasionally played with it in the past, though not in a serious way. That
was about to change. I was convinced that, with a little effort, I could
transform him into a ravishing sexpot — to our mutual delight.

I realized I was talking as though I had already committed him to
permanent feminization and sissification. Could we just continue to play
'dress-up' and let it go at that? Yes, but I knew my husband and myself
well enough to know we would quickly tire of the contrived, make-believe
atmosphere. We both adored fantasy fulfillment but craved it in a real,
physical sense. Neither of us would be satisfied until this fantasy 'girl'
could be manifested in the flesh in a truly believable way.

I would have to tread a very fine line. This was something Danny wanted;
every instinct I had screamed it. I was in a position to give it to him, a
realization that made my heart soar. I wanted it just as much for me,
although I never would have believed it until that night. My instincts
also cautioned me my beloved would feel he had to resist a real
transformation out of fear of people's reaction to it, if not his own. His
insecurities were baseless. I knew in my heart he would make a
breathtaking woman, but Danny would not believe that until I proved it to
him.

I had read FemDom stories on the Internet and despised the women's
arrogance and total disregard for the feelings of their
spouse/lover/boyfriend. This was the man — person — I loved. The thought
of adopting those abhorrent tactics to overcome Danny's resistance made me
ill, yet I might have to do exactly that to achieve what his heart, and
mine, desired. I would not take pleasure in it, but I would not back down,
either.

While Danny/Danielle — if, in fact, the two co-existed - would continue to
share our marital bed with me, it was a must that 'she' have her own
space, separate and distinct from ours. This was a matter of practicality
and convenience, if no other. Two women, dressing and preparing for their
day or night out, required their own space, to an extent a man and a woman
did not. In a romantic context, that was especially true if they were
dressing for each other, a scenario I had wholly embraced.

I redecorated one of our guest bedrooms for that purpose. In addition to
her queen-sized bed (no pun intended), dressers, vanity, and jewelry
armoire, she would have a roomy walk-in closet and her own bathroom. I
chose the décor and furnishings, opting for a soft pastel lilac with white
accents. I enjoyed making that 'lifestyle choice' for her and looked
forward to making more in the future. Let the games begin!

The single exception I made to the 'separate space' edict was underwear
or, to be exact, lingerie. I learned from my Domme friends on the Internet
nothing is more effective in keeping a sissy-in-training's mind on her new
status than keeping her in the frilliest, femmiest lingerie at all times.
That was the appropriate place to start his transformation, they all
agreed, and it seemed like a scrumptious idea. To insure compliance at
first, the sissy's intimate grooming had to be scrupulously monitored and
enforced by her mistress, meaning me. This would be a new experience for
both of us, but I was determined to be equal to the task.

I adored taking Danny lingerie shopping. We patronized several different
stores, including Victoria's Secret and Frederick's. I allowed him input
on colors and styles, but not the decision he would be wearing feminine
underthings from that point on, regardless of his outerwear. This was our
first test of trust - and wills. I expected heel-dragging, whining, even
an argument. Although I really loathed the idea, I was fully prepared to
do whatever necessary in order to get my way, even if it meant publicly
humiliating him and/or privately spanking him, as my FemDom cohorts had
urged..

Bless his heart, after some initial embarrassment, he assented readily. He
spent around three hours in various fitting rooms, trying on the articles
that the sales associates and I brought him from the racks. In each store,
I confided to the associates that I was panty-training my 'girlfriend'.
Several replied it wasn't their first experience with a 'sissy'. Each
observed 'Danielle' was spectacular raw material to work with. We left
with a fabulous wardrobe of bras, panties, garter belts, camisoles, slips,
and negligees — and an obligation that 'Danielle' return to shop with them
again soon. Danny had been a bit taken aback that his bras were all a
DD-cup, pointing out he did not exactly have the assets to fill them. I
admonished him not to worry; that I would see to it the capacity did not
go to waste.

Another of my edicts — and a personal preference of mine — was, in
addition to her lingerie, Danielle's legs be properly clad in stockings,
not pantyhose. I just feel stockings are sexier and more feminine. Danny
had always expressed the same preference. It was a natural that Danielle
be required to wear them, and she was just as enthusiastic about it as I.
We did go a bit overboard on hosiery, acquiring some three-dozen pair in
assorted styles and colors. It seemed almost an afterthought to get
Danny's ears pierced before we left the mall. We started with two in each
ear, with starter studs in each. I would expand her collection of earrings
after the piercings healed — and probably the number of piercings as well.

Heel training would be an essential element of Danielle's 'education'.
With her long, slim, sexy legs, stilettos would be as natural as the
stockings that would hug her flesh. We went to some specialty stores on
the Boulevard for those. I began with a half-dozen pair, just to get her
used to walking in heels. OK, I kinda threw her into the deep end right
away. Two pair of pumps had flat soles and five-inch heels. Two pair of
ankle-strap sandals had platform soles and six-inch heels. The remaining
two pair were a fetishist's delight; flat soles and rapier-like six-inch
stiletto spikes. Danny and I both liked the look, so 'Danielle' was
outvoted — as if she would really have a problem with it.

It wasn't like she would have to learn to walk in them all by herself; I
would be right there to teach her the delicate, confident heel-toe strut,
undulating her hips in that provocative way men adore. Of course, I
required her to try the shoes on in the store to make sure they fit
properly. After our experience in the lingerie shops, the aura of
authority was easier for me to adopt. It took a bit of coaxing, but I got
Danny to walk around a bit to get used to them. I'm certain it caused him
some embarrassment, but that was only a temporary thing. I was equally
certain the next time he went out in heels, no one would have reason to
think unkindly of him.

That left one final stop for our first afternoon outing. With all of
Danielle's feminine finery, the idea of body hair was repugnant. I had
already had mine removed via ultra-light treatments and had made the first
of several appointments for Danny. I could have settled for shaving,
waxing, or using a depilatory cream, particularly at this early stage of
his transformation. After all, the ultra-light method of hair removal was
permanent. That was exactly the point. This was another test, to see how
committed Danny was to the idea of 'Danielle' — and acceding to my wishes.

I presented it to him in a loving, caring way. It was his choice, I
intoned. If he wasn't comfortable with this so soon, he was free to shave
his body twice a week and his face twice a day to keep his skin smooth and
stubble-free — and endure the nicks, cuts, and razor burn that were part
of the process. Either way, I would require 'Danielle' to be hairless but
for her scalp and eyebrows or there would be no 'Danielle' at all. I knew
what I wanted when it came to my girlfriend's appearance. I was going to
play hardball and made certain Danny knew it. Once again, he readily
acquiesced to my directive. We left the clinic with Danny appearing to be
slightly sunburned — and hairless from his cheeks to his toes.

I couldn't wait to get home to begin putting it all together. Of course,
all the lingerie and stockings first had to be folded and put in drawers —
after I made Danny take all of his male underwear to the trash. The new
shoes were stacked in a shoetree in the closet. The negligees were hung on
hangers. After a shower, I treated Danny to a full-body massage with aloe
to lessen the sting from his hair-removal session. Then it was time to
dress 'Danielle' for our evening's pleasure.

There were two additional surprises for my lover as I prepared her for the
night ahead. I produced a pair of superbly-lifelike silicone breast forms
placed each one in turn against her chest in its proper position, then
marked it. Using a medical-grade adhesive, I attached each breast in its
place. The tone of the breast forms would be a perfect match to her skin —
once the 'sunburn' faded. The feathered edges blended perfectly with her
skin. With a little makeup, there would be no trace of a seam. But for
their size (completely filling her DD-cup bras) and firm, thrusting 'done'
appearance, everyone would believe the breasts were Danielle's own flesh.

The second surprise was a black calfskin lace-up corset. It was one of six
such specially-ordered garments, with more to come. Along with panty- and
heel-training, Danielle would also undergo figure-training to achieve that
perfect hourglass torso that women covet and men drool over. The laces
would not be tightened to the extreme this first time. Her waist would be
reduced about two inches, just to get her used to the feeling of
constriction. The corset's demi-cups cradled and lifted her DD 'breasts',
offering them up for all to see and appreciate.

After tightening the laces and tying them off, I instructed Danielle to
roll up a pair of suntan stockings, roll them up her legs one at a time,
then clip the tops to the garters attached to her corset. Once that task
was completed, I assisted her in buckling on her new black calfskin
ankle-strap sandals with platform soles and six-inch stiletto heels. At my
direction, she slipped a full-length nylon and lace negligee over her
head, allowing it to settle alluringly around her newly-feminized curves.
After painting her lips a deep crimson and a few spritzes of Obsession,
she was ready for me.

In honor of her first true "debut", we enjoyed a light supper and
champagne in bed. It turned into a genuine seduction scene, as we took
turns slipping bite-sized nuggets of smoked salmon or brie on crackers, a
grape, or an occasional strawberry into each other's mouths. We were very
touchy-feely, too, filling our fingertips with each other's flesh when we
weren't offering up tidbits of food. The touching gave way to kissing and
soft, sensual fondling.

I had done FMF threesomes, but never an overtly girl-girl experience.
Despite her origins, I was getting into my 'date' with Danielle as exactly
that — I mean, really getting into it. We spent a long, leisurely hour
pleasuring each other orally and tactilely. I came four times — three at
the behest of her fabulous lips and tongue, the fourth from manual
stimulation of my clit and pussy. She came in my mouth, flooding my
insides with her thick, creamy cum. For all that, the night was young and
so were we.

Once I had laved her to full erection again, I lay her on her back,
climbed atop her, then rode her to the first of several more orgasms for
me. God, I was so hot for her! I teased her unmercifully, squeezing off
the base of her fuckshaft as she approached orgasm, not allowing her to
cum — even as I thrashed in the throes of ecstasy. I had one final,
extra-special surprise for her that night, and wanted her so hot for her
release, she would beg me for it. By the time of my fourth orgasm atop her
— my eighth so far that night — Danielle did exactly that. With a smile, I
climbed off her and prepared myself.

She gaped in astonishment at my strap-on. Danny and I had included dildos
and vibrators in our sex play before, but they were always in me. If I had
thought to try them on my husband before, I might have been able to enjoy
'Danielle' much sooner. I was about to make up for lost time and
opportunity. I had my lover pay oral homage to my cock a good twenty
minutes, getting her used to the idea of having a cock in her mouth like a
good little slut. Then, at last, it was time for the Main Event.

I lubed her tight little puckerhole with one finger and a generous amount
of K-Y. After reaming her really good with one finger, I slipped in a
second, and later a third. My baby was getting nicely stretched out from
my insistent attention. I lubed my cock generously, then slipped a pillow
under her to raise her sex to the optimum position. I lifted her legs over
my shoulders, placed the helmet of my lifelike cock at her entrance, then
slowly, gently entered her virgin pussy. Unknown to her, the mirror image
of the 'double-ender' was nestled deeply in my own pussy.

Oh, how I adored the look of shocked surprise in her eyes! Her lips formed
a perfect "O" as she exhaled forcefully. I stopped a moment to allow her
to get used to this much invasion, wiggled it back and forth just a bit,
then pushed a little more into her. I kept up this technique until I was
buried in her snatch up to the hilt. By that time, the pain that had been
so readily apparent on her face had begun to diminish. I began to fuck her
with long, slow, languid strokes, pulling back almost to the point of
pulling out completely, then thrusting all the way back in. My ears
reverberated with the sound of her moans. My own rising level of
excitement kept pace with hers.

When I felt she could handle it, I began to fuck her faster, harder. At
the same time, I was lightly stroking her engorged 'clit'. Her hips were
bucking, thrusting towards me to impale herself even deeper on my fuck
pole. We came together, screaming our lust for each other. Her clitty,
pointed at her face, was erupting thick, creamy globs onto her lips and
into her mouth. I made certain she swallowed it, wiping up the near-misses
with my index finger, then fucking her mouth with it, having her suck my
finger clean.

We had reduced each other to limp, spent rag dolls. To my way of thinking,
any lingering doubts about the erotic appeal of our revised 'relationship'
had been blown completely away. I worded my question to her along those
lines.

"What will it be, Sweetheart?", I gasped. "Do we proceed from here, stay
where we are, or return to the way we were?"

"Can you be happy with us the way we were," she replied weakly, struggling
to catch her breath, "after what we just shared?"

I smiled what I hoped was a serene smile.

"My Love, I am happy with you, period," I purred. "As to whether or not I
can be content with our former love life after what we just
experienced...."

I tried to keep my face neutral while I searched for the right combination
of words to finish that sentence. Danny was nobody's fool in any
incarnation. He — she - was very adept at reading between the lines.

"That is what I thought," my sweet Danielle surmised. "There really is
nothing left to decide, is there? We have already made our choice."

She turned her head a little, her eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"I just... hope... we made the right one," she finished.

I kissed her then, with compassion.

"I know," I responded. "It's a big step into the Unknown for both of us,
but especially for you. It's got to be really scary, too. Tell me this; do
you still love me?"

She nodded, stifling a sob.

"With all my heart."

"Do you trust me?", I countered.

She nodded again, perhaps with a bit less certainty.

"I have to, don't I? I mean, without that, we really don't have anything."

"What are you afraid of?", I questioned.

A big, fat tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another on the other
side.

"I am afraid," she began, "of making the wrong choice. We have been
together nearly five years and I have cherished every day. If we do this,
we won't be the same as we were. I won't be the same. What happens if you
change your mind about us? I would rather die than lose you over some damn
silly fantasy."

I softly caressed her cheek with the palm of my left hand. I held the hand
up, flashing my wedding band.

"Do you see that?

"Yes," Danni sniffed.

I slipped my right hand under her left, displaying her ring.

"See that?"

She nodded. I placed my left hand over hers, interlocking our fingers.

"That means forever," I replied. "I meant it then; I mean it now. I love
you with all of my heart and I would rather die than abuse your trust. You
have to admit; this has been the best sex we have had, ever. With all of
that going for us, how can it be wrong? The fact that you are getting so
emotional over this — just like a woman — says to me we are making exactly
the right choice. That doesn't seem so 'silly' to me.

"Danielle, as good as the last five years have been — and they have been
very good - this past few days, this night, and what we just experienced
were pure magic. I felt it. I know you did, too. Many people live out
their entire lives without ever experiencing what we just did. I would not
have experienced it, were you not in my life and the person you are. For
us, the magic is just beginning. I promise you; if this doesn't work out,
we will find our way back to a place where we can both be comfortable. Our
love for one another will still be there, regardless. Please, give the
magic a chance — for you, for me, for us."

I believed, and meant, every word I had just spoken. Still, it was a sales
pitch. At that moment, I was the kid in the candy store. I had discovered
another 'guilty pleasure'; I enjoyed being in control, the dominant
partner in our relationship. I still wanted her to have this
transformation for her sake as much as my own, but the idea of being the
one to choose it, to make it happen, gave me chills. As scary as the
thought of actually transforming Danny was, the admission of having these
new feelings was scarier still.

When I wanted something, I didn't take "no" for an answer. Sometimes, I
played dirty.

"Sweetie, just think of how far we have come already."

That wasn't a lie but it was an exaggeration. Other than the permanent
hair removal, everything we had already done was either disposable or
reversible. Wording it the way I did lent the perception Danielle had
already traveled far down the road towards Womanhood when, in fact, she
had barely taken her first few halting steps. It's an old Closer's trick,
kind of like a Magician's slight-of-hand. Still, it is often effective.

I recognized the look in her eyes. It was that same look Danny had had the
night he proposed to me. She was standing on the edge of the cliff,
contemplating the long, long drop. Funny; I was already thinking of her as
'her', before she had committed to anything. That is an old Closer's
trick, too: visualize the sale as a done deal. If you believe it, they
will, too. Then, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I think it was the tears that convinced me. They made her seem so
vulnerable, so... feminine. Danny's latent submissive streak had met
Danielle's newfound girlish perception of herself. The results were very
appealing. In the beginning, I had had to feign my confidence. Now, it was
real. I said nothing. I merely took her slender, long-fingered hands in
mine, smiled serenely, and willed her to submit to me.

She did not say a word. When it came, her nod was almost imperceptible.
Had I not been focused intently on her, I might have missed it. I would
not have missed the visible release of tension in her body and eyes. She
had made her Leap of Faith, stepping off the cliff and trusting me to
catch her, break her fall. I was now free to make the magic happen for
both of us. And I thought I had felt empowered before....

"It's all right, Baby," I murmured. "I have you now."

Notes:

Readers, Please Remember to Leave a Comment

Synopsis:

When the fantasy becomes reality.

Story:

Whatever Your Heart Desires Ch. 03
by Cherysse St. Claire  ©

In the afterglow of our lovemaking, Danielle and I had talked long into
the night. I was flush with excitement at the prospect of this exciting
new change in our lifestyle. Our lovemaking had become the most intensely
gratifying of our entire relationship — for both of us, at last — and I
could only foresee it getting better.

Danni seemed more ambivalent. I was concerned about it, fearing she was
already having second thoughts about committing herself to this radical
change. I approached the subject obliquely, preferring not to agitate her
further.

"I know this sounds trite," I teased, "but it was good for you, too,
wasn't it?"

She smiled sheepishly and nodded.

"The best I've ever had," she murmured. "You are a real stud."

We both chuckled at that.

"So, the evening hasn't been a complete bust?" I asked.

My lover briefly glanced down at her overflowing chest.

"I dunno," she teased. "Do you think it needs to be more 'complete' than
this?"

I poked her in the ribs good-naturedly. This was exactly the opening I was
looking for.

"Well," I began with a knowing smile, "I'm sure we could do something to
improve on it. Actually, there are a few things I had in mind. If we are
going to give this a fair chance, we will have to keep at it for a while.
I mean, every day. You already said your schedule is pretty open right
now, right?"

Danni looked pensive for a moment, mulling something over in her mind. She
slowly nodded her head.

"Yessss," she replied, drawing out the response, "I have a few small
projects and one big one already in the pipeline, but it's all
work-at-home stuff to be posted by e-mail. I don't have any face-to-face
meetings scheduled."

I smiled radiantly.

"Wonderful! I have a ton of vacation time accrued. I'll call the office in
the morning. Let's see, this is Tuesday... well, Wednesday now. Why don't
we spend the rest of the week and the weekend together? We'll have some
fun, do girl stuff, and just enjoy each other's company. It will be like
getting to know each other all over again. We've both been under too much
stress lately. Let's live a little! What do you say — just us girls?"

Danni pursed her lips and looked at me, then down at herself. I took her
hands in mine.

"Sweetie," I cooed, " It's okay. Whatever you may think is going on here,
this is all a really, really big turn-on for me. You make a beautiful
girl. With a little bit of work, you could be drop-dead gorgeous, just
like you are always saying about me. If this all seems a little
extreme..."

I squeezed her prodigious boobies.

"... it's because we both like girls like that — remember? I'm fulfilling
your fantasy and mine, too.

"How many times in the last five years have you told me you would give me
'whatever my heart desires,' then done exactly that? I have lost count.
Until now, I have never been able to do that for you. I couldn't even make
my own husband cum, dammit. It's been driving me up a fucking wall! Now,
finally, I have found a way to do for you what you have so unselfishly
done for me, a way that has kicked my libido into overdrive, driven me to
distraction for a week, and has me obsessed with you just as much as the
night I met you. I asked you before and I will ask you again. If you will
just trust me, I will give you what your heart desires — in Technicolor,
Dolby 5.1, and Sensurround."

I kissed Danni frantically, passionately, to emphasize the point. When we
came up for air, she finally smiled a little.

"OK," she replied. "I would really like that."

I hugged her tightly, feeling we had finally made a breakthrough. I just
gazed at her lovingly. She really was beautiful, sitting there in her
negligee. With that body, those exquisite emerald eyes, and her thick,
shiny shoulder-length dark blonde hair, there was no way anyone would
think she was a man.

Until that moment, I hadn't had a clue why I was attracted so strongly to
men with long hair. Most of my really memorable lovers had worn their
flowing locks in a ponytail, as Danny did. Now, it all made sense. I can
still remember the first time I laid eyes on my future husband across a
crowded nightclub. My eyes tracked him like radar as he made his way
across the room — with me in hot pursuit. I have never been shy about
going after something I wanted. The rest, as they say, is history....

After our marathon lovemaking session, then the emotionally-draining
conversation, I couldn't keep my eyes open another minute. Tomorrow would
be a busy day, I mused, and a particularly gratifying one. As I drifted
off to sleep, I dreamed I heard a voice murmur: "If it seems too good to
be true...."

***

We were out the door and in my 500SL at ten o'clock the next morning. I
had dressed Danni myself with tender loving care. She wore the black
leather corset, of course, with her waistline cinched alluringly. Perhaps
it was my imagination, but it appeared we were already seeing results. I
was certain I was lacing her down at least another inch without a hint of
complaint from Danni. I had selected sheer black stockings with French
heels to show off her shapely legs and black lace bikini panties to keep
her tucked-in 'clitty' snuggled up tight in her crack, out of sight. The
stocking disappeared inside black calfskin ankle-strap d'Orsay pumps with
five-inch heels.

Her slinky red silk camisole was deeply scooped in front, showing off lots
of her deep cleavage. The thin material teasingly revealed the outline of
her corset and the thrusting nipples of her braless breasts. The camisole
was tucked into a tight little black lambskin microskirt that covered the
tops of her stockings — until she walked, sat down, or bent over. Danni
thought I had lost my mind. I knew I had; it was all I could do to get her
out the door without raping her on the spot!

I was amazed at how quickly Danni was adapting to those skyscraper heels.
Her strut wasn't perfect yet, but she was really showing promise. I
couldn't wait for some of the men downtown to feast their eyes on her. The
only thing out of sync with her sexy image was above the collar. I hadn't
applied makeup other than a little lip gloss and her long, thick hair had
no shape to it. We would be correcting that situation in short order!

I backed into an empty parking space in front of Eden at ten twenty-five.
Danni turned to me and smiled bemusedly.

"Are you thinking what I think you are thinking?", she challenged.

I grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

"In for a penny, in for a pound," I replied saucily. "I said we would do
'girl stuff'. What is more 'girlie' than this?"

"I dunno. Do you really think I should...."

"Oh, shut up," I interjected. "This is something I want and you can't tell
me you don't. I've already made the appointment. Lexi is expecting us."

Her eyes grew as big as saucers.

"You told Lexi?"

"Stop it!", I exclaimed. "She's fine with it. I have been wetting my
panties all week in anticipation of this moment. I told you last night;
you have nothing to be ashamed of."

At that exact instant, two tall, well-built men in suits passed by on the
sidewalk. They appeared as though they had just stepped from the pages of
GQ. With the roof of the silver Mercedes retracted into the trunk, they
couldn't help but get an eyeful of the stunning blonde driver and her
equally attractive, provocatively dressed passenger. They both grinned.
One whistled. I beamed at Danni.

"See? What was I just saying? Even with no makeup and wind-blown hair, you
are a hottie."

"They were staring at you," Danni replied.

I punched her in the arm.

"Bimbo! They were staring at us," I retorted, "and saw exactly what they
wanted to see. In fact, I wouldn't be at all surprised if they were
staring down your top at those titties of yours. Really, you are such a
shameless little tramp!"

"I can't help it," Danni responded with a wink. "I was made that way!"

"Yeah, Baby," I shot back. "And don't you ever forget it. It only gets
better from here..."

I winked at my companion as we walked through the door of the salon.

"... or worse."

***

Alexis Jordan had been my stylist, friend, and confidant since I had
earned my realtor's license and 'moved uptown'. We shared the same head
for business and the same tastes in men and sex. Lexi had invested the
money she earned from her upscale clientele and, in a few years, purchased
Eden outright from her former employer.

We saw each other at least once a week — when I came in to be pampered —
and lunched together or went out for drinks whenever our respective
schedules permitted. We had been enjoying such a lunch the previous week —
the day after my epiphany about Danny. As we grazed on our salads, I
decided the time was right to invoke Asset Number Four — and casually
dropped The Bomb. My raven-haired companion, in turn, dropped her fork and
jaw simultaneously.

"You are going to do what?", she replied incredulously.

I grinned at her conspiratorially.

"You heard right," I smirked. "Honest to God, I wish you could have been a
fly on the wall in our bedroom last night. I thought he was gonna blow his
load right through the top of my head when I told him I pictured him as a
T-girl."

"We're still talking about 'Mr. Magnificent', right?", Lexi responded.
"The guy who really does go all night? He of the talented tongue?
Custodian of the mighty eight-incher? Purveyor of unlimited female
orgasms? He's a sissy?"

"He definitely has latent tendencies," I agreed. "Remember I told you he
has been a dry hump as long as we have been together? Not anymore! Once I
knew which buttons to push, I couldn't turn the fountain off. The damndest
thing is, I had no clue how much the whole idea would turn me on. I
haven't been able to stop thinking about it since."

The esthetician just shook her head sadly.

"It seems like such a waste. Look, if you're bored with him, just give him
to me. I'll put him to work immediately! I can't believe you would trash a
gem like that."

I grinned cattily and shook my head.

"I ain't trashing nuthin', Girlfriend! You know I have a Sweet Tooth. I
won't do anything that would adversely affect my favorite candy cane..."

I thought about that for a minute, envisioning a universe of alternate
scenarios.

"... at least, not yet. I would have to have a really compelling reason to
willingly take away my own candy. I've been reading up on it. There are
plenty of ways to make 'Danielle' Pet Of The Year material without
screwing that up. Aren't you the one who told me some of those girls at
Eve's Rib were three-legged centerfolds?"

Lexi nodded in agreement at my reference to the local T-girl
nightclub/show lounge. I was well aware the raven-haired beauty harbored
'alternative' tastes in lovers as well. I also knew she was no stranger to
the cabaret — nor to the 'girls' who frequented it. She smiled at the
memory of something, probably a previous fling with one of the 'starlets'
of which we spoke.

"Nice legs, too," she smirked. "All three of them. I also seem to recall
urging you to try it some time, but this.... I have to admit; Danny would
be stunning. He is such a pretty boy. All right, Sweetie, you've convinced
me. I'm in - on one condition."

I gazed at my friend speculatively.

"And that is?"

"I get to sample the merchandise when she is done."

I didn't move a muscle. Since I had befriended the stylist, we had shared
secrets, dreams, drinks, and occasional pick-up stud service. I had never
had a reason to refuse Lexi anything — until then. I hid it well. I'm
pretty sure my smile lost barely a trace of its warmth.

"We'll talk later. Whew, that's a big load off my mind. Now, I have to
figure out how I'm going to accomplish the rest. I need to start making
contacts."

Lexi reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"I think I can help you there, too. I know someone who would be a big
help. I think I can arrange for them to hook up. As for the makeover, do
you think you can have him ready by next Wednesday?"

I nodded enthusiastically.

"If last night is any indication, I could probably have him ready for you
tomorrow if I needed to. Wednesday would be better, though. That will give
us both time to get ready — and in my case, to do some shopping!"

***

"Lexi, this is my new girlfriend, Danielle," I purred. "Didn't I tell you
she is scrumptious?"

As I expected after our lunch of the previous week, Lexi gave Danni the
once-over, head to toe, like she was sizing her up for the kill. 'Desire'
was written all over her face. When we were out at the clubs and she had
set her sights on some studmuffin, I had always thought that look was
cute. Now.... After more than a moment of this silent lusting, she took
Danni's hand and welcomed her.

"Delectable would be a better description. Hello, Danielle. Welcome to
Eden. Kristen, I have the perfect operator for all of Danni's needs.
Celine just joined us this week. I have been trying to lure her away from
the cosmetology school for months and finally succeeded. I think Brady
Ellison is going to lynch me for stealing his best instructor. Hair,
makeup, nails — they just don't come any more skillful or artistic than
Celine. She has a real flair for the dramatic, too. She is definitely the
right choice to work on our girlfriend here."

Lexi turned and peered down the salon floor.

"Celine? May I see you for a minute?"

Danni and I were equally enthralled by Lexi's newest employee. Celine was
a stunning, statuesque African-American siren. She was taller than
Danielle, made more so by the platform stiletto sandals atop which she
glided so gracefully. Her lush feminine proportions would put many of our
favorite porn stars to shame. The woman's face featured big, expressive
chocolate eyes, impossibly high, pencil-thin arching brows, stunningly
prominent cheekbones and the full-beyond-full, plush lips that were the
hallmark of women of her race. Unlike her 'sisters', her nose was
straight, narrow, and delicate-looking. To be honest, she looked 'done' —
superbly so. Her makeup and hair, substantially more dramatic than most
Anglo women would deem appropriate for daytime, were artfully applied and
surreally appropriate for the task of highlighting her exquisite, exotic
features.

"Celine, this is Danielle," Lexi intoned. "And this is her girlfriend,
Kristen."

Celine took my hand first, but barely glanced at me. Her undivided
attention was on her latest client. If Lexi had been sizing Danni up,
Celine was devouring her with her eyes. I can't explain why, but I didn't
feel threatened by Celine the way I had with my friend.

"Hey, Baby," the stunning African purred as she took Danni's hand in her
own. Her voice was as smooth, sultry and provocative as the rest of her.
"It's a pleasure."

Danielle was visibly stunned by her stylist's hands; so was I. To be
exact, it was the nails that captured our fancy. They were the longest I
had ever seen; perhaps two inches from root to tip, square-cut, slightly
curving, with a multi-color polish scheme and plenty of gold nail art.
That's one of those things about Bad Girls that always made Danny and me
drool. I could just imagine what was going through Danielle's mind at that
moment. I wondered how the woman could work with such over-the-top talons.
They were the perfect compliment to this most exquisite woman.

"You ready, Baby Gurrl? I do have some ideas that will have the boys
creaming in their shorts."

I wasn't certain Danni really needed that, but if she could look even a
tenth as good as the provocative esthetician, I would be happy.

I just stared dumbly as the pair made their way to Celine's station. Lexi
smiled as though she were the cat that just ate the canary. When Celine
and Danielle were out of earshot, I turned to her in wonder.

"Where on Earth did you find her? She is magnificent!"

"As I said, she was an instructor at the cosmetology school," Lexi
replied, "among other things. She's really something, isn't she?"

"Oh, yeah," I managed to croak. "She knows the score?"

Lexi smiled sagely.

"No problem," she replied. "She's down with it. In fact, she's really
looking forward to it."

"Aren't we all," I responded dreamily.

Lexi took my hand, smiling.

"Come on," the esthetician offered. "Let's get you started."

At that moment, I rubbed my thighs together, noting the warm wetness
between them.

"Not a problem," I noted. "I'm already started."

Celine was still working when Lexi finished with me. It was around noon.
My girlfriend had no appointments scheduled until three, so we opted to go
to lunch while her associate continued to work her magic. From across the
salon, I could not get a good read on what the operator was doing to
Danielle. Lexi read my thoughts.

"Never mind," Lexi cooed, as she steered me out the door. A Cheshire smile
split her lips. "Danni's in the best of hands. I promise you will love the
results. All of them."

I looked askance at my friend. Lexi paid me no mind as we slipped into the
Mercedes.

***

We returned about ten minutes before three. Celine had just finished her
task and was escorting her client to the front desk. I froze where I stood
as I beheld the approaching apparition who, only a day before, had been
unmistakably male. The hair was longer, reaching about mid-way down her
back. The blazing copper color was the perfect compliment to her flawless
pink complexion and glittering emerald eyes. Her tresses were now a full,
bouncy head of big, loose curls.

Those eyes were now as exquisitely made up as Celine's own. The thick,
furry eyelashes were an immediate attention-grabber. The multiple hues of
perfectly-blended shadow, ranging from dark moss lids to ebony creases to
frosty white highlights, with wide swaths of liner extending well beyond
the corners, added to the exotic allure of those shimmering orbs.

The combination of dark and light blushes made her cheekbones appear much
more prominent than they had been. Her sexy mouth was outlined in Claret
and tinted a deep, glistening red. Her lips looked fuller, plusher, more
kissable than they had before.

Oh God, she had talons now, too! They were not quite as long as Celine's,
perhaps an inch and a half overall. They were polished the same dark
crimson as her beautiful lips and flashed with dazzling gold nail art.
This couldn't possibly be the same 'girl' I brought in four hours before —
could it?

This vision slinked up to me and pirouetted on her heels, giving me a
good, long look at Celine's handiwork. Then she pressed her body against
mine and slowly, casually scraped my inner thigh with those crimson claws.

"Do you like?", she teased. "I'm thrilled with it."

I groaned and nodded weakly. Somebody please turn off the tap inside my
pussy! I made a conscious effort to keep my hand steady as I wrote the
check, barely giving a second thought to the amount. So what if it was
equivalent to the last two months of our electric bill? It was worth it!

Celine and Danni hugged and blew air kisses, so as not to ruin the Black
girl's breathtaking efforts.

"Call me," Celine admonished.

"I will," Danni promised. "Tomorrow."

As we made our way to the door, I had to comment.

"It looks like you made a friend."

Danni looked straight ahead, smiled coyly and nodded.

"Oh yeah," she murmured dreamily. "I sure did."

As we pulled away from the curb, my lover snuggled up to me and resumed
her casual stroking of my inner thigh. I was having difficulty
concentrating on driving.

"So," she breathed in my ear, "what's next?"

I had had a whole mental list of things I wanted us to do this afternoon.
Now, all I could think about was getting her home — and into bed. When I
put the suggestion to her, she pouted her demurral.

"After I got all dressed up and sexy for you? What were you thinking? I
want you to take me out and show me off. I'm too jazzed up to think about
eating, but the least you could do is take me for a drink!"

I wanted to take her all right, but not for drinks. Still, she did have a
point. Danny loved to show me off in public — as much as I loved to flaunt
myself. He had always been so proud of me and wanted everyone to see what
a good thing he had. I adored the man for being so confident in himself
that he could do that. Apart from my occasional flings, I never gave him a
reason to doubt me.

Now the shoe was on the other foot — and I was having a problem with it.
For all our sexual experimentation in the past, both public and private,
Danny and I had never been to a swing club, swapped, or even had a
threesome with another female (Lexi had frequently given me grief about
that). That was my choice, not his. I knew what a good thing I had waiting
for me at home. I knew there were other women who would sell their
firstborn to get their hands on a man like that — and never let go. Say
what you will about hypocrisy; I could never bring myself to share my
husband with another woman. The

very thought of him being in another bitch's arms....

Danni spotted the little sidewalk café we had frequented in the past and
wheedled me to pull into the parking lot. We were seated at a table right
next to the low wrought-iron fence that separated the patio from the busy
sidewalk. My lover expertly crossed one leg over the other at the knee.
The soft, sensual rasp of stocking-on-stocking assaulted my senses. Damn,
she was picking this stuff up fast! I ordered a carafe of blush wine. We
sat, made small talk — and eyes at each other. Danni's right hand rested
atop my left. She gently scraped the sensitive skin on the back of my hand
with her crimson claws. Under the table, she casually stroked my leg with
her high-heeled pump. I was amazed my panties didn't squish as I squirmed,
they were so soaked.

We caused a modest riot in the hour we sat there drinking our wine. Every
guy in sight did a double- or triple-take as he laid eyes on Danielle for
the first time. That didn't bother me. In fact, I was beginning to
understand the thrill Danny had felt whenever he took me out. Let's face
it; men are dogs — well, most men. They are good for a quick, frantic
fuck, but they can't commit to anything more serious than a tee time. I
didn't feel threatened by their overt displays of lust. It was fun to
watch them flirt with my 'girlfriend' — and her to flirt back. I
remembered what I had said the previous week about bringing home a couple
of studs to fuck us both, side by side. Maybe....

I barely minded that, sitting next to her, I felt positively plain for the
first time in my life. She seemed to pick up on that.

"Sweetie," she trilled. "I was wondering.... Celine couldn't do color and
a perm today. She told me that much process all at once, plus the
extensions, would fry my hair. That means I would have to go back to the
salon next week — and struggle with curlers and a styling brush all this
week, which I really don't know anything about. Or...."

I raised one eyebrow, amused.

"Or?"

Danni smiled coyly and continued.

"Or, she's offering to give me lessons privately. Essentially, it would be
the complete cosmetology curriculum; hair, make-up, nails, the works. When
I finished, I would even be ready to take the licensing exam. It would
probably be several evenings a week for a while. She said we could even
start tomorrow. There would be homework, too. Of course, I..."

She cranked her smile up a notch as, under the table, her toe slid
dangerously close to my crotch.

"... would be able to practice on you. What do you think?"

I was barely able to contain my excitement.

"She... could teach you to do all this... for both of us... and you are
even toying with the idea of doing it full-time? Instead of writing?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

Let's see. How did I feel about my newly-minted, drop-dead-gorgeous little
fem-toy embarking on a career change that would almost certainly keep her
femmed to the max, me in control of our relationship, and both of us
deliriously happy for the rest of our lives? Hmmm, let me think about that
for a while... long enough!

"Baby, if you want to give it a try, I would be delighted!", I gushed.

She was clearly thrilled. Then, her whole demeanor changed. It was as if
she had thrown a switch. In the place occupied by a gushing, child-like
little bimbo only a moment before sat an earthy, seductive sexual animal.
She leaned over the table and gazed at my mouth with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Take me home and fuck me stupid," she sighed.

You didn't have to tell me twice.

I didn't know how we made it home in one piece. I only remember her tongue
tickling my ear and those fabulous nails stroking, teasing my inner thighs
and all around my slit. By the time we made it through the front door, I
was a bundle of frayed nerve endings. My pussyjuice was dribbling down my
thighs. My whole body trembled uncontrollably.

We stood next to the big, overstuffed sofa. Danni pulled me close. I could
feel her heat. Her desire was a match for mine. She placed her mouth right
next to my ear. "Cum," she purred, then simultaneously stuck her tongue in
my ear and used the tip of one fingernail to lightly flick my clit — just
once.

That did it. The force and speed of my orgasm caused my knees to buckle. I
fell backward over the arm of the sofa, landing lengthwise on the plush
cushions with Danielle on top of me. My whole body was bucking wildly. She
held me tightly as wave after wave of sheer bliss engulfed me. Afterward,
I lay there trembling in her arms. My heart hammered madly in my chest. I
still couldn't see straight. Danni smiled contentedly.

"Was it good for you?", she teased.

Then, she really went to work. That was only my first orgasm of the
evening. There were so many others....

Notes:

Readers, Please Remember to Leave a Comment

Synopsis:

When the reality becomes fantasy; a greater reality intrudes

Story:

Whatever Your Heart Desires Ch. 04
by Cherysse St. Claire  ©

We spent the rest of that long weekend in Fantasyland. We shopped. We
dined. We went out drinking and dancing, just us girls. Can you believe
it? God, what a rush! We fucked; a lot. It was fast, furious, frantic. It
was slow, soft, sensual. We did it everywhere in the house, over the hood
of the car, in the changing room of the boutique where we were trying on
clothes. I can hear the Blue Noses now. "They fucked? That's it? What
about making love, like responsible adults?" Honey, it was all about
making love; everything we did in every moment of every day. I had fallen
in love with Danny in much the same way five years before. Now, I had
fallen in love all over again — with Danielle. You want to talk about
magic?

I grudgingly granted her a few hours with Celine Thursday evening. On the
one hand, I wanted her to learn to be all the woman she could be. The
thought of Danielle committed full-time to this new and utterly erotic
lifestyle kept me constantly wet. On the other hand, I was already wet. I
had the 'itch', and needed her to scratch it. When I saw the results of
that first lesson — the makeup and hair styling which she proudly admitted
she had done herself — I was fervently thankful I had let her go, and that
Celine was there to guide her. Even my lover's voice sounded sultrier,
sexier. She and Celine had obviously worked on that, too. I made her
exclusively mine for the rest of the weekend.

Danni had to kick me out of bed Monday morning to get ready for work. I
did not want to leave her! We split the difference; she showered with me.
After the 'sendoff' she gave me under the jets of steamy spray, my morning
coffee was almost superfluous.

We dressed together after. I lovingly laced her into her corset once
again. In deference to my wishes, she donned stockings and high-heeled
marabou mules, then a long. flowing peignoir and dressing gown, while I
slipped into a blouse, 'sincere suit', and business pumps. There was
something utterly erotic about this role reversal, having my sexy 'wife'
see me off to work in the morning. For her part, she was taking to her new
role as though she had been born to it. I didn't want the weekend to be
over.

"What will you be doing today, Wifey?" I chirped brightly.

She smiled bemusedly, acknowledging her new status.

"I have an article to work on this morning," she replied, "then will spend
the afternoon with Celine."

When I wrinkled my forehead in incomprehension, she giggled, threw her
arms around my neck, pressed her body against mine and kissed me.

"It's Monday, Silly. The salon is closed. The lesson will probably last
all afternoon."

I jumped at the opportunity.

"Why don't I take you out for dinner then?" I offered. "I'll call you
later and we can coordinate the time."

Danni assented readily. I smiled and took her into my arms.

"Sweetie, I just wanted to ask. You are okay with all this, aren't you? I
mean, it's all been so sudden - and so incredibly sexy...."

Danni blushed. The corners of her mouth twitched upward.

"It is overwhelming," she acknowledged with a hesitant smile, "and kind of
scary. Yes, I am 'okay with it', as you put it...."

Her smile broadened with that.

"I just never imagined you would be into something like this, let alone so
strongly. You asked me to give it a fair chance and I will — just for you.
My biggest worry is, what will become of us?"

I smiled and stroked her cheek softly.

"You don't worry about that at all. Your only concern is making yourself
gorgeous for me. I will take care of everything else."

I kissed her softly on the lips to emphasize my point, then turned and
walked out the door. I smirked as I strutted to my car. Just for ME, huh?
You really don't want to admit to me how much YOU want it, do you? In that
case, you little minx, I really WILL take care of everything else.

***

I called Danni's cell at five o'clock. She told me she and Celine were
just finishing up. I invited her to meet me at O'Malley's for a drink.
From there, we could decide where we wanted to go for dinner. She
accepted, noting she hadn't been sure how fancy a place I had had in mind,
and that she had done the 'sexy, sophisticated look' for me. I replied I
couldn't wait to see.

O'Malley's is an Irish pub not far from my office. It is a favorite
after-work watering hole and sometime lunch destination for my co-workers
and me. From my vantage point on the end of the first high-backed booth, I
observed my sweetheart step through the door around five-thirty. Her
smooth, feline strut oozed sensuality. She paused as her eyes adjusted to
the changed light. I rose from my place and stepped forward to greet her.

We hugged and kissed each other lightly on the cheek. I gave her a very
appreciative once-over and beamed my approval. 'Sexy, sophisticated'
indeed! She had worn one of her new suits; charcoal with a subtle pin
stripe. The fitted jacket had widely-spaced lapels and a peplum waist. The
slim, tight-fitting skirt ended at mid-thigh. Her shapely legs were clad
in sheer black stockings, ending in black patent pumps with five-inch
heels. The black crepe blouse was undone to the "V" of the jacket's
lapels. The halves were spread, revealing the deep valley of her cleavage.
Danni's hair looked salon-fresh and as full and fluffy as it had the
previous Wednesday. Her makeup was still provocative, but less dramatic
than it had been the previous five days. Her look was that of a sexy young
secretary who dressed for her boss's pleasure rather than office decorum.
How appropriate!

I took Danni's hand in mine and led her back to our booth. As we rounded
the corner of the high oak backrest, she froze in her tracks.

"Jackie, Beth, Gwen, may I present Danielle, the love of my life," I
purred.

I tightened my grip on Danni's hand to prevent her from running away — or
falling over in a dead faint. The introductions weren't really necessary,
of course. My husband had met Jackie and Beth, both fellow agents, and
Gwen, our secretary, at various office parties and functions. When you
work with a group of people long enough, you just know whom you can
confide in and whom you can't. Of our agency staff, these three were
confidants and co-conspirators on all things personal.

They had all been out "catting around" with me in one nightclub or another
in the past, not to mention frequent after-work "Happy Hour" excursions to
this and other pubs. I knew the most intimate, detailed knowledge of their
love lives; the who, what, when, and how many times. It wouldn't have
occurred to me not to share this momentous change in my love life with
them as soon as I arrived at work that morning. I knew I could trust them
to be 'cool' about it. When I invited them to join Danni and me for
drinks, wild horses could not have kept them away.

'Cool' was an understatement. After the consensus "Oh, my GOD!", all three
piled out of the booth to get a better look, head-to-toe. Hugs and
enthusiastic praise go a long way towards salving a bruised and fragile
ego. After re-seating ourselves — Danni between Gwen and me, Jackie and
Beth on the other side — and two rounds of drinks, my sweetheart felt a
little more like one of the girls.

Naturally, the subject of Danielle and her 'coming out' dominated the
conversation. There were a lot of questions, as I knew there would be. I
hadn't prompted any of it.

My office mates were naturally curious, yet sensitive to the impact of so
emotional a subject on a girl who was 'new to the game'. To her credit,
and my unvoiced encouragement, Danni answered freely and frankly. I could
tell she danced around certain questions — particularly about any
attraction she might feel towards men. The important thing was, she was
facing the issues and her own emotional responses to them — something she
had to do if 'Danielle' was to grow as a person.

I made certain she and I went alone to the Little Girl's Room to powder
our noses. I knew she would have something to say in private, and had a
firm idea what it would be.

She didn't disappoint me.

"How could you do this to me?" she burst out incredulously. "I almost died
of shame!"

"Baby," I responded, "it was never my intention to humiliate you. I can
only say what I have said before; you have nothing to be ashamed of. You
cannot hide in the closet forever. You have to get out, meet people, and
let them meet you. You were fine with Lexi, Celine and the girls at the
salon. You also had no problem with the people at the clubs we went to
last weekend."

"The clubs were different," Danni retorted. "They were all strangers.
These three have known me as long as you and I have been together."

"That is exactly my point," I replied. "These three do know you — as an
intelligent, funny, warm, loving, caring, thoughtful human being. You are
still that person. We just made the 'packaging' a bit more attractive. Our
girlfriends are fine with that, just as Lexi and Celine are. They have
been jealous as Hell of me all this time, jealous of the love I have. From
what I can see, they are even more so now."

"You could have warned me up front," Danni reasoned, "so I could have been
emotionally prepared."

"I could have," I agreed. "Would you have shown up?"

She just stared at me in the mirror as we freshened our lipstick.

"How will I ever be able to face them again as your husband?" she sighed.

I held her close and smiled coyly.

"Why would I ever want you to?"

My sweet Danni sighed again in resignation.

"Do you have any more surprises for me?"

I shrugged my shoulders a bit and cranked my smile up a notch.

"The night is young and so are we."

When we returned to the booth, the topic of conversation turned almost
immediately to dinner. Five grumbling stomachs were not to be denied.
Someone voiced a desire for Steak on a Stick and potato skins. In no time,
we all adjourned to Friday's. Jackie and Beth rode with me; Gwen
accompanied Danielle. My two companions never shut up about my 'new wife'.
They remarked, as others had, how attractive they had always considered
'Danny' to be. Now, they couldn't get over what a gorgeous female he — she
— was becoming. They danced delicately around the subject of our sex life,
wondering how far I intended to take Danielle's transformation? I assured
them that, whatever other changes she had in store for her, that would not
be changing within the foreseeable future. I had been correct in my
earlier assessment of them. At that moment, I could see they were
beside-themselves envious of me.

The three of us arrived first and were seated immediately, much to our
delight. That event is rare enough any time. It is doubly so on a Monday
night during football season. Danni and Gwen arrived ten minutes later.
Danni took her seat next to me and Gwen took the empty chair between
Jackie and Beth. The conversation resumed where it had left off in
O'Malley's. I knew immediately something was wrong. I have always trusted
my instincts and now they were sounding extra alarms. It wasn't anything
either one said, nor the way they looked at each other. Rather, it was the
way they studiously avoided looking at each other that gave them away. It
wasn't hostility; I would have read that in their body language. This was
something else.

The hackles on the back of my neck stood up. I knew Danni inside and out.
I had never had to worry about 'him' cheating on me; he was devoted to me.
Likewise, I didn't expect 'her' to stray for the same reason. Then again,
she was new to the game and an accommodating personality. I knew Gwen was
anything but. She was a man-eater, a sexual predator with a taste for
fresh meat. She seemingly changed lovers more often than she changed her
mind — and loved to try new things. It didn't take a rocket scientist to
figure out who had made a play for whom on the way over.

I stared a hole through my spouse's head. It didn't take long for her to
sense my gaze and meet it. Danni and I share that rare quality that one
can tell with a glance what the other is thinking. She read my unspoken
question with ease. My lover knew full well how I felt about her and other
women. The little smile confirmed my suspicions. The almost imperceptible
shake of her head bespoke: the offer had been graciously declined. Her leg
pressed against mine, with her hand gently stroking my inner thigh,
confirmed her allegiance. Damn, I loved her! I made a mental note; I would
have to keep a closer eye on Gwen whenever Danni was around....

The partisan football crowd was getting rowdy. After a few more rounds, so
were we. I wasn't really surprised when we picked up an 'escort'; five
guys who graciously seated themselves with us, each gifting us with
another round of whatever we had been drinking.

My girlfriends and I were used to this; it happened often when we were out
together. Then again, this was the first time it had happened when my
lover was with me — and she now had an admirer of her own!

Mine was a tall, seriously-muscled, towheaded hunk of manflesh named Ron
Randall. He was a personal trainer (surprise!) at a local health club. I
made no attempt to hide my wedding band and he made no attempt to let it
dissuade him. In the meantime, Danni was distracted by an equally-buff
(same occupation, same club) Terry Kennedy. Hmmm, a gregarious Irish lad,
in search of a fair colleen. If he only knew.... Our three friends were
similarly occupied. It was fun. It was flirtatious. We talked of football,
movies, and of course, Real Estate (that was the salesperson in us). I
would be lying if I said Ron wasn't an attractive man — one that, under
different circumstances, I wouldn't think twice about having. Then again,
Danni and Terry.... I thought briefly of the spur-of-the-moment spoken
fantasy that had started us down this path. It was making me wet.

I could feel the tension rising from my other side. I had never
experienced it before, yet I could sense its source — and cause. Beth
glanced my way, then flicked her eyes towards Danni. She knew, too! Now we
had a problem. I couldn't indulge myself with Ron. There was the obvious
reason, of course, but Beth and Jackie rode with me; their cars were back
at the office. Gwen's car was also parked in the company lot, but it was
apparent she had found her flavor du jour and would likely not be riding
back with Danni. Correction: Gwen would not be riding with Danni no matter
what.

Jackie and Beth were both married but, like me, occasionally had fun on
the side. I silently polled them, eye-to-eye, gauging their intentions.
Both gave little shakes of their head. All for one; one for all. I glanced
at Gwen, who was oblivious to everything but her guy. Well, almost all.

Luckily, the game turned into a blowout. We offered our excuses shortly
after the beginning of the fourth quarter. There was no mistaking the look
of disappointment in Ron's eyes and three others'. Lucky Number Five was a
different story. For no good reason, other than it's what a salesperson
always does, I gave Ron my business card.

"If you decide you're in the market, call me," I offered.

The corners of his mouth twitched upward a bit.

"I just might take you up on that," he replied.

***

I dropped my co-workers off at the office, sticking around long enough to
make certain their cars started and they got underway without incident.
Then I drove straight home. Between my sexy banter with Ron and the
occasional thought towards my 'double-double' fantasy with Danni and two
guys (Ron and Terry? Ron and anybody else?), my panties were soaked. I
could tell Danni and I would have to work on the trust issue a little more
before that fantasy could be realized. My lover's car was already parked
in the garage. The house was dark but for the light streaming from our
bedroom. I thought back to her unspoken, yet heated response to my
flirtations with Ron. This might require some damage control.

"Honey, I just wanted to say...."

WHAM!

My back hit the bedroom wall with enough force to knock the wind from me.
The scent of Danni's Obsession assaulted my senses, even as her lips
assaulted mine. Instinctively, my legs encircled her waist even as my arms
went around her neck. She speared my pussy with her eight-inch clit,
driving the breath from me yet again and pinning me against the wall. In
all the time we had been together, she had never, ever taken me with such
force and passion.

My first orgasm exploded in less than a minute; my second, third, and
fourth in less than five. I am not certain at what point I wound up on my
back on the bed, nor when I rolled over on top, riding her clit. Finally,
the individual bursts of bliss melded together into one continuous river
of molten lava that burned through the night and seared my soul. Through
all of it, she never said a word.

Finally, somewhere between midnight and dawn, she stopped - just as I was
on the ragged edge of yet another giant climax. She was on an upstroke;
her clit was thisclose to being withdrawn from my pussy altogether. I
shrieked my displeasure at this despicable pause at exactly the wrong
moment. Danni just gazed at me with placid eyes.

"You just wanted to say what?"

I glared at her with a look of pure venom.

"Never mind," I hissed.

I dug my nails into her tush sharply and yanked with all my might,
slamming her clit home in my snatch. That was all it took. I was falling
again, and the bottom was nowhere in sight....

***

The weeks slipped away. Danni was in class with Celine Monday afternoons,
plus Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Between corseting and weight loss
(hey, how hungry are you when your stomach and other internal organs are
being compressed four inches?), she had achieved a natural twenty-four
inch waist. Her hips and tush had expanded to a mouth-watering thirty-six
inches. Her luscious body rocked out in a skimpy bikini, not to mention
her other fashions.

Lately, I had been giving serious thought to buying her a boob job. Her
natural ones had swelled along with her beautiful bottom and her nipples
had become erect and sensitive. It was a crime to cover them up with faux
titties, but she looked so good as a really busty babe.

I had been giving a lot of thought to fulfilling that other fantasy. I
wanted to see her with a man, to watch while he took her the way a man
takes a woman — well, within the limits of her anatomy. I knew it would be
a little tricky to find the right guy, but not impossible. In fact, I was
really liking that scenario about two guys, taking Danni and me together.

All right, I admit it. I had been having thoughts about Ron Randall. What
girl wouldn't? He had been calling me regularly at work. It wasn't about
buying a house, either. I had flirted with him, letting him know the
interest was there, but I wasn't ready to see him — yet. I was feeling a
little guilty about wanting to. That was a first for me. In the past,
whenever I saw a guy that made me ooze, I just had him. It was harmless
fun and didn't hurt anyone. Even after I married Danny, my playing around
on the side was never a threat to our marriage. Danny was the man I loved
and I wasn't going to toss him aside for a random hunk of beefcake. I
never broached the subject with him. I didn't want to flaunt it in his
face. I just made it up to him in other ways.

The rules had changed and I had changed them. Now 'Danielle' was the love
of my life. Even though I had convinced myself I was doing it for her,
there had been a big, big dividend in it for me. Neither Danny nor
Danielle had ever, ever cheated on me. She was, in fact, going to the most
extreme lengths any person can to satisfy my 'itch'. She was satisfying
me, to an extent I had never dreamed possible. Still, I was having a
craving for a man — something I had taken away from 'Danny' to create
'Danielle'. That was making me feel a little uneasy. I reasoned: if she
could have a man with me, I wouldn't have to feel guilty, would I?

But Danielle had yet to express the slightest interest in having sex with
anyone but me, let alone a man. She could have had Gwen or Lexi in a
heartbeat. Instincts or no, I might never have tumbled to it. Yet my lover
had already refused one — and told me so - and would certainly refuse the
other if the situation arose. This was frustrating. How do you convince
someone to cheat, and that it wouldn't be cheating if you were there with
them?

The answer was, you don't convince them; you seduce them. The next time
Ron called, I set something up with him for the following Tuesday night. I
told him my 'roommate' hadn't gotten laid in a while and had just quit
trying to find someone. I wanted him to bring Terry Kennedy over to our
place for a 'foursome'. I could almost envision his eyes glazing over at
the prospect.

When I hung up the phone I started making a mental plan. No one knew how
to push Danni's buttons better than me. She would come home from her
Cosmetology lesson, and "the boys dropped by, just to be sociable,
Sweetie. The least we can do is offer them a drink, right?" Once she was
relaxed, I would start caressing her, then kissing her, 'putting on a
little show to make the guys jealous.' Once I got her warmed up, it
wouldn't take any effort at all to get her into Terry's arms — and me into
Ron's. I figured if we had all had a couple of drinks by then, Terry
wouldn't really mind about Danni's secret, would he? Even if he did...
well, I would figure something out. The bottom line was, I would be able
to enjoy Ron without having to feel guilty about it.

The boys showed up at nine on the dot Tuesday night. I really like guys
who care enough to be punctual. This was gonna be a great evening. Danni
would get home around ten, so there was plenty of time. I showed Ron where
the liquor was and told him to fix us a drink while I went into the
kitchen to get the snack tray I had already prepared. Then, we settled
down on the couch, got cozy, and waited.

The next thing I knew, it was late Wednesday morning and the telephone was
chirping angrily in my ear. It was Gwen, wanting to know if I was okay; it
wasn't like me to be this late and not call in. I told her I was sick, and
that I would have to call her back in a little bit. That hadn't been a
lie. My head was pounding. I felt like Death Warmed Over. My pussy and ass
were so sore, they throbbed. What the Hell had I done the night before? I
couldn't remember a thing.

I stumbled into the bathroom and went potty. I wanted to go back to bed,
but knew I had to get up. A good, long, steamy, soapy shower made me feel
marginally better. I wrapped my terry robe around me and cinched the belt
tight, then padded back into the bedroom. Where was Danni? I dimly
remembered we had... company the night before. Ron and Terry. We were
going to have a foursome. We had a drink, then sat down to wait for... A
DRINK! I hurried to the living room. Nothing. I went into the kitchen. The
three glasses were there, in the strainer. I snatched one up to the light
and examined it. The glass was flawless; not a spot, streak — or
fingerprint. I started to get a gnawing feeling of dread in the pit of my
stomach. Where is Danni?

I raced to her bedroom, the one she had never had occasion to sleep in. It
had been my plan she would 'break it in' the previous night, along with
Terry, after I had got the festivities off to a good start. Apparently,
Ron and Terry had had an agenda of their own.

Danni's bedroom was empty, the bed not even creased. Then where was she?

I went back into the living room, thoroughly disoriented. I just stood
there for a moment, collecting my wits — or trying to. Something was
trying to pierce the fog of my confusion, force its way to the front of my
consciousness. It was... a sound, a subdued, high-pitched whine. I looked
around the room and spotted the door to our home office open. As I made my
way to it, the sound got louder. I finally recognized it as the sound of
our computer's hard drive in operation. Danni had left it on again?

No, it hadn't been Danni. The computer was running all right. There was a
new slide show in progress on the screen, starring me — having sex with
Ron and Terry. I had been on my back, then on top, then on hands and
knees, taking first one, then the other, then both at the same time. They
must have used a digital camera on a tripod with remote release or timer.
In each one of the pictures, my face was clear as crystal — and theirs
were turned away from the camera or out of the frame. So, what had they
dosed me with? GHB? X? Whatever it was, they had had a real good time,
then expertly cleaned up after themselves. And I had just washed the
remaining evidence down the shower drain. I smelled a well-rehearsed
set-up. I knew instinctively I was not their first victim. Victim? I had
invited them into my home with open arms. Why had they bothered? We were
going to have sex anyway. I guessed for some guys, it wasn't as good if
the girl says: "yes" — or they weren't taking any chances I might change
my mind. Those bastards! I felt so dirty.

Correction: I had invited them into our home. Where was my sweetheart?
What had those rat fucks done with her? I was just reaching for the phone
to call the police when something on the screen caught my eye. I had to
wait for the sequence to cycle again. Then I saw it, in two different
frames. Danni was standing in the bedroom door, watching what was going
on. My two assailants had been so engrossed in me, they hadn't noticed her
watching all three of us.

Why hadn't she said something, screamed, come to my aid? The sequence
cycled again. I studied her image intently this time. The story was all
there on the two frames. There were two very different expressions on my
lover's face. The first was wide-eyed astonishment. The second was... pure
hate.

For the second time, a knot formed in my stomach. I hurried over to the
dresser and opened her drawers, one by one. All empty. I dashed back to
her bedroom to check her closet filled to the brim with the clothes we had
purchased for her. There were about a half-dozen forlorn, empty hangers
occupying otherwise barren racks.

She hadn't understood. She hadn't realized the creeps had drugged me.
After everything she had been through, everything she had done to please
me, she had walked in, seen me fucking two of the guys we had met at
Friday's - on our marital bed - and thought.... Then again, she had a
point, didn't she? It wasn't like I had been the model of a faithful
spouse. I had invited them with the intent of having sex with them. Yes, I
had intended for Danni to participate — but it hadn't really been about
what she wanted, had it? I hadn't even told her about it. It was going to
be another surprise....

I sat down hard on the closet floor, crossed my legs, planted my elbows on
my knees, then buried my face in my hands. What had I done? I could
picture the scene as clearly as day. She had quietly slipped into this
room and closed the door, fuming in silent rage. I was actually grateful
she had done that. My attackers had not realized Danni had come home. She
had been spared my fate, or worse when they discovered her secret.

Danni had waited until they had finished with me and left. She had cleaned
out her closet, then come into our bedroom to empty her dresser drawers —
while I lay sprawled across the bed, not ten feet away. To her, it would
have appeared I was sound asleep in post-orgasmic bliss.

She was gone. My attackers had had nothing to do with her disappearance; I
had. I cried for a good, long time, then notified the police.

Notes:

Readers, Please Remember to Leave a Comment

Synopsis:

One betrayed; the other violated

Story:

Whatever Your Heart Desires Ch. 05
by Cherysse St. Claire  ©

There was no way around it; I had fucked up, big time. First things first;
I did what every rape victim is supposed to do. Detective Dottie Henson of
the police department's Sex Crimes Unit took my report. She escorted me to
the hospital to process a rape kit (neither of us expected anything usable
to turn up after the shower I had taken), plus tox and STD screens (that
thought was chilling).

"Ron" and "Terry" had struck before — several times. They usually dosed
the girl's drink at the bar during the initial pick-up, then took her
somewhere more private, presumably a motel room. I was the second victim
they had 'played' over time. They were slick and methodical. They were not
employed at the health club as they claimed, and none of their previous
'dates' had been given an address or phone number. At that point, the
police could not even be certain what their real names were or if they
even lived locally.

The digital slide show had been a break; Danni's appearance in it more so.
I managed to convince Dottie to keep Danni out of the investigation, at
least for now. She had been ready to put out an 'all-points' for my mate.
Your husband saw you being raped, did nothing to stop it, then disappeared
immediately after? And you aren't at least a LITTLE suspicious? I reasoned
with her. Given my unfaithful past, Danni would have no reason to suspect
what she saw was anything but more of the same — taken to the most
humiliating (for her) extreme yet. That would easily explain her sudden
departure. If I didn't appear in complete control of my senses, well, I
was being fucked stupid and it wouldn't be unusual for me to have a drink
or two — or three — beforehand.

She still wasn't buying it — until I showed her a picture of Danni. It was
one of a series of photos I had had taken of her at one of those walk-in
glamour photography studios in the mall. Danni had been wearing a little
cropped tank top that showed off her cleavage and hand span waist, a
sinfully-short little flare skirt and platform ankle-strap sandals. Her
navel piercing had healed by then and I wanted a portrait that showed off
that cute little jeweled ring. I practically had to catch Dottie's jaw in
my hand and close it manually.

"This is your husband?" she asked incredulously.

"Noooo," I responded with a grin, "this is my wife."

Dottie had just shaken her head and smiled bemusedly.

"OK," she sighed, "I see your point."

She admonished she would still have to interview Danni at the earliest
possible time. He — she, Dottie had corrected herself — was still a
material witness to a felony sexual assault. More to the point, she was in
danger. If we had noticed her in those digital images, the perps would,
too. I hadn't thought of that.

"I'm going to have a unit watch your house for a while," she instructed.

"They wouldn't come back again, would they?" I gasped. "I mean, I can't
testify to anything other than they had been there and I had woken up the
next morning with a headache and sore pussy."

"No, but Danni can," Dottie responded, "and they won't know she's gone.
All they will know is she caught them in the act and would be able to
testify against them. They might be tempted to come back to silence her —
and you, too, if you were there at the time."

I hadn't thought of that, either. It was a chilling concept. So was my
next thought.

"You are going to use us as bait, aren't you?"

Dottie smiled, but not convincingly.

"It might not come to that," she responded, "but we will be watching the
house for now. Kristen, this is the biggest break we have had since this
case was opened. I don't mean to leave you or Danni twisting in the wind,
but if there is any chance we can draw these creeps out into the open, we
need to take it."

The best way to put all this behind me was to immerse myself in my normal
day-to-day routine. Harry, my boss, and the whole agency were solidly
behind me. Harry couldn't understand how my husband could walk out on me
after so traumatic an event. We hadn't told him about 'Danni', so I
reiterated a sanitized version of the same explanation I had given the
police. Beth, Jackie and Gwen were present — at my request — and backed me
up. Harry understood, but still thought of Danny as "unmanly" for allowing
it to happen in our marital bed in the first place. At the time, there was
no way I could argue the point and win, so I let it drop.

It was hard at first; really hard. The initial blood work and all
follow-up testing came back negative for all infectious agents. I was
thankful for at least that much. It didn't bother me to go home again,
either; at least, as far as the rape was concerned. It was still Home and
I would continue to live there. I had plenty of reason to blame myself for
my victimization, but I didn't want to dwell on that, either. What's done
is done.

My trauma was Danni. This deplorable incident had cost me the one treasure
I valued above all others. I had not heard from her since and had no idea
where she was or what she was doing. Our home seemed empty, sterile,
bereft of warmth without her. Sometimes at night, I just wandered
aimlessly from room to room, trying to recapture some faint essence of her
to fill the void in my heart. The thought of seeking out casual lovers to
fill that void revulsed me.

I went to get my hair done, as I always did. That was part of the routine.
Lexi could tell something was wrong with me. I told her everything.
Priests, bartenders and hairdressers; they hear it all. She was really
sympathetic. It had been such an unreal chain of events and had led to
such a tragic end. She hated that I had been assaulted that way. She was
heartened to learn I was coping with it as well as I was — other than the
loss of Danni of course.... Her reaction was not exactly what I had
expected. Certainly, she commiserated with me, but it somehow seemed the
news had not taken her completely by surprise.

As I arose from Lexi's chair, I happened to catch sight of Celine at the
same moment she spotted me. The stunning African-American recoiled as if
stung, hastily turning away from me. That one, brief glance had spoken
volumes. If she had been able to shoot daggers from her eyes, I would have
been dead where I stood. I cautiously made my way to Celine's station,
mentally steeling myself for the miserable, yet necessary, exchange to
come.

"Don't even speak to me," she hissed, busying herself with some trivial
task. "I sure as Hell don't want to speak to you!"

"I have to speak to you," I replied with resolve, "whether either of us
wants to or not. I have to know Danni is all right."

Celine spun around to face me, cold fury in her eyes and voice.

"All right? You come to me after doing what you did, after everything
Danielle did for you, and you ask me if she is all right? No, she is not
'all right'. She may never be 'all right' again. I think she still trusts
me, but that is all the emotion she is willing to invest in anyone right
now. It is only out of respect for Alexis I don't bust your punk ass right
here and now!"

I repeated what I had told Lexi about my assault and why the police
thought Danni was in danger. Whatever mistakes I had made, I didn't want
anyone to hurt her. Celine regarded me warily for a moment. Her face
softened almost imperceptibly.

"You don't have to worry about that," she intoned. "I'll take care of it."

At least I knew someone was in contact with my lover. I had instinctively
respected the Nubian beauty the moment I laid eyes on her. She was
defending Danni as a she-wolf would her pup. As much as it pained me to
not be able to see or talk to my love, I understood she was in good hands.
I tried to string together the right words to say, wishing I had Danni's
talent for it at that moment.

"I know you won't believe this right now," I began slowly, "but I do love
her with all my heart. If the only way I can prove that is to stay away
from her until she is ready to contact me, that is what I will do. I trust
you to take care of her and I know you have her best interests at heart. I
do, too, though I wasn't very good at showing it. Just be good to her,
please — better than I was. She deserves that."

Celine opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it.

"You need to go," she stated without emotion, then turned away.

I did, without argument.

It was the tiniest of breakthroughs imaginable, but a breakthrough
nonetheless. At least I knew Danni was alive. I didn't know where, but was
certain Celine did. Perhaps Danni was living with the Black girl. That
would make sense. She would have turned to the only other person with whom
she felt safe. I said I had instinctively respected Celine from the first
time I saw her. I would have to do so now, setting aside my petty jealousy
of Danni being with another woman.

I did what I set out to do. I went to work and immersed myself in my
normal routine. I sold properties, went to lunch or for after-work drinks
with my friends, then went home. Once in a while, they convinced me to go
out to a club. Of course I got hit on, as was their intention. I was
cordial. It felt good to at least carry on a conversation that wasn't
related to work. I danced some, too. It felt good to hold someone, feel
their warmth. It just wasn't the same. Their petty preoccupations with
sports, their jobs, a new car or boat, and how they had been searching for
a girl like me just seemed so banal.

I actually did take one of them home — once. His name was Stan
something-or-other. He was... a man. That is the only way I can put it. He
was attractive enough and had a nice body. The 'package' was okay, too —
just okay. He fucked me routinely. He came. I didn't. I didn't ever try to
fake it. I was cordial enough afterwards and got rid of him as soon as I
decently could. All the time he was in me, I was comparing him to Danni.
There really was no comparison; Stan lost, hands down.

A couple of months later, a bizarre story was reported on the local news.
Acting on an anonymous tip, police had raided a local motel room and
apprehended two men wanted in connection with a series of sexual assaults
on area women. Also confiscated in the raid were digital camera and video
equipment, plus recorded digital disks allegedly containing evidence of
previous assaults. Upon arrival at the scene, police found the room's door
forcibly opened and the men handcuffed, beaten... and, allegedly, sexually
assaulted. Arraignment was pending their release from an area hospital. At
that time, police had no suspects in the apparent vigilante-style attack
on the pair. Further details would be made available as they were
released....

And then I saw her. Gwen told our little group about a new club, Gotham.
The four of us decided to check it out on a Friday night. The décor was
dark, brooding, and heavily goth-inspired. There were lots of dark little
alcoves and passageways to explore — or get lost in. Danni was on the
dance floor with another girl. Her partner's back was to me, but I
couldn't mistake my estranged mate's gorgeous body and fiery copper
tresses for anyone else.

Both women were dressed like little sluts, with deeply-plunging necklines,
obscenely short skirts and perilously high stiletto heels. They were
dancing really close, into the slow, sensual beat and each other. The
entire room seemed to be fixated on them. Finally, the other girl took the
ravishing redhead's hand in hers and they strolled off the dance floor and
into the corridor. I followed them, picking my way carefully through the
crowd.

I searched room after room, corridor after corridor, trying to catch sight
of the couple again. Had they left? Was that it; one brief glimpse, then
she was gone from my life again? Just as I was about to give up in
despair, I spotted them in a dark, deserted dead-end alcove. They were...
fucking, right there where anyone passing by could see them. The act was
so brazen, so extreme, so blatantly erotic, my pussy started gushing its
juice. Like some lowly peeper, I couldn't help but hide in the shadows and
watch.

I reached under my skirt and began massaging my aching clit with two
fingers, moving in a light, circular motion. I couldn't tear my eyes away
from the erotic tableau before me; two beautiful women, one with a thick,
meaty cock, fucking in public with reckless abandon. Is this what she and
I had looked like? It had to be. The other girl's face was hidden in the
shadows. I had a clear view of Danni's clit pumping in and out of her
snatch. They were moaning desperately, seemingly moments away from
release. So was I. I switched from massaging my clit to plunging the two
fingers forcefully into my love nest, pumping hard in time with Danni's
thrusts.

The three of us came within moments of each other, their shrieks masking
my own moans. My knees buckled at the force of my orgasm. I grabbed for
the wall to steady myself. It was the first orgasm I had had since Danni
left. Despite the tawdry circumstances, or perhaps because of them, it was
an intensely fulfilling one. After a time, the pair composed themselves,
straightened their disheveled clothing, and strutted confidently on, hand
in hand. It was then I caught a good look at Danni's partner. There was no
mistaking that raven-haired beauty. And to think, I had been seated in her
styling couch only two days before, as I did every Wednesday!

For the rest of the weekend, I fucked myself furiously with the biggest
dildo I had, as that scene replayed over and over in my mind. I was
obsessed with it, couldn't get it out of my head. I came, too; savagely,
ferociously, again and again. It was insane. In effect, my 'wife' had
cuckolded me with one of my best friends — and I was getting off on it!
Perhaps it was because of the audacious, in-your-face boldness of the act,
so much in keeping with the character of the relationship Danni and I had
shared. It was almost like she had been fucking me in that dark, secluded
alcove. In a way, she had.

At the office Monday morning, my girlfriends and I discussed our outing.
The other three commented I had suddenly disappeared and wondered what had
happened to me. I replied I had gotten caught up in a hot scene in another
room and wound up going home early — all of which was true. Later, Gwen
pulled me aside. She smiled, hesitantly at first, then with genuine
warmth.

"I hope it was good for you, too," she intoned. "I mean that, Kristen. You
have been a good friend, even when I wasn't. You don't deserve to have
been alone so long."

I wasn't exactly sure what she had meant by that, but I took it at face
value and thanked her.

I had a decision to make. The smart choice was to find a new hairstylist
ASAP. Even if she didn't know that I knew, how could I face Lexi again
after what she did? Then again, how had Danny faced me again all those
times, knowing what I had done behind his back? I had been a lot more to
him than a hair stylist. Lexi had been my friend a long time. Technically,
she hadn't cheated on me, hadn't gone behind my back. Although we were
still married, Danielle was currently fair game — and if she was going to
be with anyone....

I kept my regular Wednesday appointment. Lexi was all smiles as she seated
me in the plush, contoured couch. She was really animated, talking about
anything and everything, yet saying nothing in particular. When she had
finished with me, I rose from the couch, turned, and just looked at her.
She was as animated as before, beaming radiantly. As I continued to
silently gaze at her, the smile faded slowly from her face.

"What?" she asked.

"I was there," I softly intoned. "I watched."

She knew what I meant. She stared at the floor, blushing. Then she looked
at me again.

"I won't apologize," she stated evenly.

"I won't ask you to," I replied.

"What do you want to do now?" she inquired guardedly.

"I want," I responded, glancing at my watch, "to take you to lunch. Can
you get away?"

The smile crept back onto her face.

"I can always make time for a good friend," she chirped.

Understandably, lunch was a little awkward at first. We had gone to the
little sidewalk café, around the corner from the salon, which was our
usual haunt. I had to break the ice somehow, so I simply started with the
first thing that came to mind.

"She looked good," I began. "Actually, the two of you looked good
together."

"Thank you," Lexi spoke hesitantly. "She really does look good, doesn't
she? You gave her the confidence, and Celine..."

She glanced down at the tabletop for a moment, then looked up again.

"How much did you see?"

"I told you. I watched. I was in the alcove with you, in the shadows. I —
I masturbated while I watched her fuck you. I came when you did. That was
hot."

The conversation took off from there. When she asked if I minded, I was
quick to reply "yes", but followed up by pointing out I had no exclusive
rights to Danni at that moment and Lexi had always wanted to find out how
good I had it. She looked at me with a dreamy expression on her face and
acknowledged the liaison in the alcove had been only one of many that
night, and that she had almost not made it to work Saturday morning. When
I commented Danni did know how to satisfy a woman, Lexi beamed.

"I probably wouldn't want her full-time, the way you do," she intoned
enthusiastically. "I mean, I really like men, but, DAMN, Girl, I have
never had another lover who could push my buttons like that!"

When she saw the misty look in my eyes, my friend took my hand in hers and
gave it a little squeeze. She reassured me it was not over between my
lover and me. Danni talked about me constantly, Lexi observed, and
obviously missed me as much as I missed her. Lexi admitted she had related
the details of my rape to my spouse, and how I had set it up to fulfill
the fantasy of Danni and I having sex together with two guys.

Danni revealed how her entire transformation had begun with my revelation
of that fantasy, and that it was a turn-on for her as well. She simply
hadn't been certain at that point how she felt about having sex with a
man.

The issue of my casual affairs had hurt her much more than she let on. She
hadn't said anything about it because she loved me that much and wanted us
to stay together. Danni had believed that, with her transformation at my
behest and in light of how well things had been going in our relationship
as a result, I had finally put all of that behind me. Then, when she had
come home that night and found me in our bed, fucking the two men we had
met at Friday's, she had just lost it.

The revelation of what had actually happened that night had hurt Danni
deeply. She had never wanted anything like that to happen to me. My
estranged spouse felt ashamed she had sat in the next room, doing nothing,
while I had been so callously abused. She felt doubly-ashamed that she had
believed me capable of acting so callously towards her.

It was my turn to stare at the tabletop, in an effort to hold back my
tears.

"She didn't know," I sobbed quietly. "She had no way of knowing. She had
every right to think exactly what she did. She wasn't wrong. I didn't even
bother to ask her if she was ready to do it with me. All I could think
about was how much I wanted that bastard Ron Randall. I deserved what I
got."

Lexi's smile disappeared.

"Listen to me carefully, Kristen," she intoned resolutely. "No woman
deserves what you got. I know it. Danni knows it. You'd better know it.
Even Celine knew it, bless her heart. She and Danni... took care of it
with some of their friends.

My heart skipped a beat at the sudden vision. I suddenly remembered
something from the salon this morning I wanted to ask. I hadn't seen
Celine in the salon that morning. Was she sick? Lexi looked ill herself
when I asked. She replied that Celine would not be working at the salon
anymore. I teased her about losing her to some other big salon, the same
way she had snatched the gorgeous Black girl from the school.

I saw in her eyes that whatever the cause, it was not something to make
light of. I squeezed her hand and apologized, stating that after the way
Celine had helped Danni, both before and after our break-up, I could tell
she was someone really special. "She was the best," Lexi stated simply.
Then, she brightened a bit, relating that her intuition was that Danni
would be on my doorstep tomorrow if she hadn't had something going on at
that moment.

And there it was. That was what I had been afraid of all along. I sighed
resolutely, asking if she and Celine were good to each other, the way
Danni and I had been? If they were, I wouldn't make trouble for them. Lexi
stared at me, shaking her head. She replied she didn't know how I had
gotten that idea, but it had never been that way between Danni and Celine,
that Celine would not have allowed it.

I didn't understand that at all. Danni and Celine were obviously close. I
wasn't able to resist Danni's charms and Lexi hadn't been able to, either.
The entire subject of Celine seemed to be one Lexi wanted to avoid at the
moment, so I just chalked it up to Celine not being into T-girls as Lexi
and I were, and let it go.

Lexi reiterated Danni had something big going on, something other than a
personal relationship, but she was being very close-mouthed about it. The
gorgeous T-girl was still mine, my friend asserted. It was just going to
take some time for the hurt to heal, and for Danni to get her head
straight and finish what she had to do. She really wanted me back, Lexi
avowed. My heart was pounding. I felt dizzy.

"I want her back, too. More than anything."

It was time for us to get back to our respective jobs. We arose from the
table, walked out to the sidewalk, and hugged. My friend scrutinized me
carefully.

"Are we OK?" she questioned.

"More than ever," I responded as I hugged her again.

"Prove it," she challenged.

"How?"

Lexi winked.

"Gotham. Saturday night, for your birthday. You and me. Stop by the salon
before closing. We'll do dinner, then go out — just the two of us."

"It's a date," I replied enthusiastically.

Notes:

Readers, Please Remember to Leave a Comment

Synopsis:

A reality redeemed; a fantasy renewed.

Story:

Whatever Your Heart Desires Ch. 06
by Cherysse St. Claire  ©

I was excited about going out with Lexi, more so than I had been about
anything in the months since Danni left. The prospect of spending my
birthday alone, without my sweetheart, was just too daunting. Being
dragged out of my self-imposed exile for a night of drinking and dancing
actually looked like an attractive alternative for a change. Perhaps it
was just time. I had put the rape behind me. There was no question I was
buoyed by what Lexi had told me about Danni's inclinations towards me. I
finally had something positive to be hopeful about. In the meantime, I
felt it was OK to live again.

My girlfriend had already finished with her final customer by the time I
arrived. She whisked me into her couch and did a quick 'touch-up' on my
hair. With the help of two of her operators, I got my nails and makeup
done, too. The finished product went well beyond my carefully-cultivated
professional image, so necessary for my successful career. I mean, I still
looked like a 'pro' — but in a different genre.

After closing the salon, we adjourned to Lexi's luxury condo to dress. The
ensemble I had brought to wear perfectly complimented this new and very
different "me". I had purchased the royal blue latex sheath on a shopping
excursion with Danni, shortly before our break-up. It was a halter style
with a deeply-scooped back. The V'd neckline plunged almost to my navel,
revealing way more tantalizing boobflesh than I was used to. The hemline
was appropriately short, barely covering the tops of my sleek, sheer black
stay-up stockings.

Did it fit me like a second skin? Is the Pope Catholic? I had chosen
stay-ups because I didn't want the dress's sensual lines spoiled by the
outline of a garter belt. At the last minute, I decided to forego panties
as well, just to be daring. Aside from my lush, feminine contours, the
only protrusions showing through the sensual rubber were my stiff, swollen
nipples and prominent pubic mound.

I accessorized the look with a pair of Royal Blue patent platform sandals.
The open- toed, ankle-strap design had a two-inch sole and towering
six-and-a-half-inch stiletto heel, both of clear Lucite. Huge silver hoop
earrings and a forearm full of jangly bangles finished the look.

Lexi had done a stunning scarlet patent leather two-piece bustier and
microskirt combination which looked absolutely breathtaking against her
raven hair and fair complexion. She laced herself into thigh-high red
patent boots with five-inch heels to add an even more exotic aura.

We ate at a cozy little trattoria, more for its convenience to our
evening's destination than anything else. The food was wonderful, although
my mind really wasn't on it. Good service? We were doted on, slavishly, by
our servers, plural. Lexi and I were never quite certain which one was
actually working our section. At least a half-dozen diners, single and
otherwise, made it clear with their eyes they would have given their souls
to be part of our personal wait staff that night. We tipped well for the
attention, but probably could have gotten away with no tip at all simply
by telling them where we would be later. Then, we were on our way.

The bouncer at the door whisked us beyond the velvet rope instantly.
Gotham's atmosphere already seethed with electricity. In a room full of
pretty people, Lexi and I drew attention like twin beacons. We were
offered drinks all night, but I made certain we consumed only what I
observed to pass directly from the bartender's hand to ours. We danced,
too; with each other, and a never-ending stream of male admirers.

We caught the eye of a trio of hunks I recognized as professional
athletes. Months after the fact, the entire town was still basking in the
afterglow of a championship season. These three were doted on for their
heroics, just as Lexi and I had been at dinner. One of the three split
off, heading for the other side of the room. The other two made their way
to our side and requested a dance. The dance became two, then three, then
I was no longer counting. Their manners were gentlemanly but their sensual
appeal was anything but. I knew where this was headed, but was having
misgivings about going there. I asked them to excuse Lexi and me while we
went to the Little Girls' Room to powder our noses.

After I did that, and fixed my lipstick, I stopped and just stared at
myself in the mirror. Lexi picked up on it immediately.

"Tell me," she stated quietly.

"I'm not sure I can go through with this," I intoned carefully. "I'm not
sure I want to."

"The assault," Lexi inquired, "or Danni?"

"I am more cautious about having sex with strangers," I admitted, "but I
won't deny I'm attracted. It's mostly about Danni. This is what got me
into trouble in the first place. If I screw up again...."

Lexi held both my arms and looked at me intently.

"If you really don't want to do this, we will go back and make our
excuses," she asserted. Then, she smiled and added: "I'll just beat you up
over it later. Seriously, I won't force you to do anything you aren't
ready for, but consider this. You have already admitted to me you have no
exclusive rights to Danni. Don't you think she feels the same way,
whatever she feels about getting back together with you? If the two of you
decide to patch things up later on, fine. No one will be happier for you
than me.

"In the meantime, you have a life. It's time you started living it again.
Are these guys dangerous? Hell yes! What fun would it be if they weren't?
But we know how to find them again if we have to. They're under contract."

My girlfriend smiled and winked at me as she said that. Then, she looped
her arm through mine and led me towards the door.

"I have a hunch," she observed, "if Danni knew about this, she would tell
you to go ahead and enjoy yourself. It's your birthday. She wants you to
be whole again. We all do. It's time, Kristen — and Danni loves you that
much. No one doubts you love her that much."

I pursed my lips and stared at the floor as I thought about it, then
slowly nodded my head. Lexi ducked her head down to look into my eyes.

"Yes?" she inquired, smiling coyly.

I smiled back.

"Yes," I agreed.

"OK," she chirped, pulling me close to her as we returned to the dance
floor. "Let's get nasty!"

If you have ever enjoyed the VIP room in such a club, you know the rules
are a little different there than for the general public. Liberties are
taken, and allowances made, by and for 'players' at that level —
particularly if the room is closed to all but a certain few VIP's and
their special guests, as it was that night. Disrobing was unnecessary;
whether I wanted to admit it or not, Lexi and I had both 'dressed for
action'. We got all the action we could handle.

Despite my initial reluctance, it felt good to have sex again, even if
this gorgeous stud was a mere stand-in for the partner I longed for. On
the other hand, this guy had an amazing cock. I gave as good as I got. His
chiseled good looks, Greek God physique, satiny mahogany skin and tall,
turgid tool got me off again and again. Lexi gave no indication her
experience was any less powerful than mine. Two twosomes crossed over into
variations of a foursome, then back.

After a time, I became aware a third couple had joined us. It was the
third member of the trio, recently arrived, presumably with yet another
girl chosen from the throng on the dance floor. I saw him, on top, in the
subdued lighting. He was just as impressive as my date and Lexi's, if not
more so. I happened to catch my girlfriend's eye at that moment and
glanced in the direction of the new arrivals. She looked in that
direction, winked, and shrugged her shoulders a bit, as if to say: Why
not? The more, the merrier.

At that moment, the third couple rolled over with her on top. I saw her
from the back, admiring her perfect hourglass physique, shapely,
stocking-clad legs and the black patent platform stilettos she wore. Her
top had been removed and the black patent skirt she wore was bunched up
around her full hips and lush, heart-shaped ass. He was doing her anally,
and she was taking every inch of his impressive dong. Her long, curly hair
brushed back and forth across her naked back. I could just make out the
outline of her overfull, jiggling breasts. As she moved her head, a beam
of overhead light flicked across her silky mane, which flashed brilliantly
copper in the illumination.

I thought my heart would never start beating again. It couldn't be! My
pussy seized the cock inside me, bringing my partner to a screeching halt
in mid-thrust. After I engineered a swift change of positions, my Adonis
was thrusting into my pussy from behind while I knelt upright, pressed
into the backside of the red-headed enchantress. I hadn't been mistaken.
Even the scent of her Obsession remained the same after all these months!

There were some startling differences. Her cheekbones were much fuller
now; so were her lips. The bounce of her big titties hadn't been my
imagination. She had gotten a boob job! I came at the thought she had
committed herself so fundamentally, so permanently, to this new plane of
existence.

Her eyes were closed in concentration. They opened slowly when she felt my
body against hers and my fingernails tweaking those erect, sensitive
nipples I had loved so much. She smiled sideways at me when she saw my
face. She reached behind me to grab my asscheeks, pressing me tightly
against her. I had caught just a glimpse of her fingernails as her hands
passed my field of vision. They appeared to be just as long as Celine's
had been, though deep red with gold nail art, as had been Danni's
preference. The feel of those elegant talons digging into my tender
assflesh sent chills up my spine. We came in that position, together, for
the first time in months, our respective studs thrusting into us.

The candy store was once again open in my imagination. At times, our
foursome became a sextet — no pun intended. In even my wildest flight of
fancy, I had never envisioned sitting astride one stud, his magnificent
fuckshaft filling my pussy, while my own sweet Danni knelt upright behind
me, fucking my ass. She, in turn, was being fucked from behind by her
stallion. When my two lovers came, gushing their loads inside me, I went
over the edge and stayed there, not caring where, when, or who I was, nor
how far the fall might be.

The moment passed, as all moments do. Danni hugged me tightly from behind,
leaned over, and whispered in my ear.

"Is it as good as you fantasized?"

I gazed over my shoulder at her face, smiling contentedly.

"Better."

She kissed me lightly on the cheek.

"Happy Birthday, Baby."

I stared at her uncomprehendingly, then spun my head to the other side and
shot a glance at Lexi. She was riding her own pony, but was gazing at me
intently. She grinned and winked. I knew at that moment I had been set up.
I returned my attention to Danni, kissing her deeply. She kissed me back.

"Thank you. I do love you so much. I can only think of one more thing that
would make it perfect."

She gazed down, shrugged her shoulders a little, then kissed me lightly on
the cheek.

"I can't. I still have some things to work out. I just didn't want you to
think I didn't remember — or care."

My heart sank. Damn it! For a moment, I had thought.... I really had hurt
her. But she still had thought enough of me to give me my fantasy for my
birthday. I really didn't deserve her. At least, I could pretend — and
enjoy her as long as I could.

Lexi convinced me, with difficulty, to adjourn with her to her condo with
our dates. At that moment, the love of my life was once again on top,
riding her stalwart steed. I gazed into her eyes silently, beseechingly.
She looked down at the gorgeous stud beneath her, then looked at me,
smiled wanly, and shook her head.

"We have... other plans."

I tried to hide my bitter disappointment. I hugged her, kissed her cheek
tenderly, then breathed into her ear: "I've missed you." As we left the
room, I glanced over my shoulder to catch a final glimpse of the one who
had always been The One. She was peering over her shoulder, looking at me.

***

I first heard the buzz on one of the local early-morning TV news/talk
shows as I was getting ready for work. A new non-fiction novel was about
to hit bookstore shelves and everyone was touting it as a 'must-read'.
They were calling it the next Black Like Me; a scathing exposé on legal
and social intolerance toward this country's last generally-acceptable
target of discrimination, persecution and hate, narrated by a person who
had lived it first-hand. The title? Desires Deferred: Being Transgendered
In America. The author? Danielle Devereaux.

It couldn't be a coincidence....

I was first in line at the bookstore door the morning it went on sale. I
placed my hand on Danni's picture on the back cover, trying to recapture
the warmth I had once felt when I held her. It felt so good to see her
face again, if only on the cover of a book. I read whenever I had a few
free minutes. It was told in the first person, as well as quotes and
third-person narrations gleaned from the experiences of other T-Girls
Danni had met while 'researching' her story.

I devoured every word, starting with Chapter One: When You First Dream The
Dream. She told of T's who had known there was something wrong with their
gender identity as early as age two, as well as those that "came late to
the game", finding their other self for the first time in their adult
years. She wrote of girls who lived their whole lives in the closet, as
well as those who were proudly, defiantly "out". She chronicled those who
shared their special identity with a Significant Other, those who had only
each other, and those who had no one but themselves. She revealed those
who had come out and found at least some measure of happiness, as well as
others who had lost everything in the pursuit of their dream.

Some, mostly the cross-dressers ("weekend warriors" as they were known in
The Scene) were identified only by pseudonym - to protect their 'straight'
identities, jobs, families and friends. A cadre of the braver "24/7"
(full-time) girls were identified by their street or "Drag" names. They
provided the bulk of the quotes and third-person material. One in
particular, the author's "Drag Mother", had been shadowed through her
world on a day-to-day, sometimes hour-to-hour basis. Her life and world
was described in vivid, sometimes tawdry detail; the triumphs, tragedies,
successes, failures, joys, sorrows and almost casual horrors that made up
her day. There was a picture of her, which I recognized immediately. I was
stunned. The caption read: Celine D'Arcy. I hadn't had a clue.

Our story was there, too; all of it, minus the names, places and dates. It
was spread out throughout the book, beginning in Chapter Four: When The
Fantasy Becomes Reality

"I was one of the lucky ones. I had someone. She was smart, funny, sexy,
successful, daring, erotic — and stunningly beautiful, inside and out. We
were happy, too — at least, for a while. Unlike others, I didn't have to
invent some rationale to explain my desires to her. She began my
transformation herself, out of the blue. It was her way of thanking me for
giving her 'whatever her heart desired.' She adored 'Danielle', too — at
least, for a while. I don't know what she saw in me as a man, much less as
a woman, but she saw something and I loved her for it and vowed I would do
whatever it took to make her happy. She was my world and I was lucky to
dwell in it while I did. Happiness is relative, and all too transitory. I
regret that happiness ended, but I would more deeply regret it not
existing in the first place, as is true for so many others. I, at least,
have memories, rather than fantasies...."

She continued our story in Chapter Six: When The Reality Becomes Fantasy

"She loved me without limits — or so it seemed at the time. She called
that wonderful beginning 'Fantasyland', but each day after was a new
fantasy fulfilled. If I was 'out there', it was because she extended my
reach. If I was a 'bad girl', she liked me that way. To her, Conformity
was a vehicle, not a destination - and a rental car at that. We loved
often and well, sharing our secret-that-wasn't with strangers-that-weren't
and friends-that-were. I could ask: 'What did I do wrong to lose her?'
Instead, I ask: ' What did I do right to deserve her?'"

My tears began to fall in Chapter Eight: When The Fantasy Ends

"Everything that has a beginning, has an end. Sometimes, it is our
excesses that finally catch up with us. Sometimes, it is boredom.
Sometimes that which we are overcomes that which we strive to be. In our
case, we just made a stupid mistake. The mistake was not that we had
loved, trusted and had faith in each other in the first place. The mistake
was, we lost sight of those things and quit trying. Perhaps it really had
been just an illusion, a bit of parlor magic, as she had always claimed.
In time, the smoke dissipates and the mirrors crack. The house lights come
up. Then, you are faced with the real world; a bed you no longer share in
a home no longer yours. Therein dwells a heart that has moved on. 'This
way to the Egress. Watch your step.' It's cold out there, once the warmth
is gone. You may find warmth again, sometime, somewhere. If not, the
memory of it can warm you, too — just not as well."

There was more of course; the lives, the dreams of so many. Their lives
were about illusion, lived on the edge, one day at a time. Illusion was
their reality, and Reality an illusion. They avoided the 'real world' as
vampires avoided the light; both burned body and soul. In the end, dreams
would be dashed, lives would be crushed and discarded by almighty 'Family
Values'. Society could be cruel if you were perceived to be 'different'.

Danni described the club scene in detail. In their illusory existence, it
was the focal point and sometime defining factor in their social order. As
in any other society, there was a caste system which defined the
individual's place in the hierarchy. From her rich depictions and
characterizations, I had no doubt she was describing Eve's Rib. I don't
know why I never pictured her going there. After our experiences, I just
always envisioned her going to 'straight' clubs. I realized that was my
prejudice talking. As she described in her book, the so-called 'straight'
clubs could, in fact, be a death trap for any T-girl who was 'read' —
found out — even one as beautiful as Danielle. Sometimes, it came down to
a matter of hooking up with the wrong guy, or how drunk he was at the
time. Any girl could identify with that.

The most touching — and disturbing — chapter dealt with what girls in
transition had to do to survive on a day-to-day basis. The truth was,
unless a girl was completely 'unreadable', had iron-clad documentation, or
was just plain lucky, she was likely to be locked out of the job market by
prejudicial hiring managers. Even menial, minimum-wage jobs would be
difficult to secure.

Sometimes the fields of Fashion and Cosmetology would offer opportunities.
The author herself had gone that route and become a licensed Cosmetologist
and Esthetician in the course of her 'research'. Not all the girls could
get into those fields and not all had the talent for it. That left more
creative methods of support. Finding a 'husband' (male lover) was a
preferred path, though often perilous. A 'Sugar Daddy' was considered
Heaven on Earth, but real Sugar Daddies were few and far between, and not
every girl could attract one. Check fraud, supplanted by credit and ATM
card fraud were traditional favorites. Dealing drugs — almost always at
the lower echelons — was another, although the girls all too often got
mixed up with the 'product' themselves. And then there was 'dating'....

I almost died as Danni wove a graphic description of 'dates'. There was no
way she could have known those intimate details without having been there.
I had fantasized about Danni being with men and what a turn-on it would be
to watch. My experience with her at Gotham had been everything I had ever
dreamed, and more. Now, this new, darker vision of her 'working it' was
firmly fixed in my head, in the form of my sweet Danni having sex with
some anonymous guy so she could eat that day or save up some money for the
rent on the little roach-motel studio apartment she described. The thought
chilled me to the bone.

Throughout the book, the level of hate, loathing, suspicion, and casual,
horrific violence directed against the girls on an almost daily basis
numbed the senses. There were beatings, stabbings, shootings, mutilations,
rape (until then, I had not considered a girl fortunate to only be raped)
heaped upon them, both from the outside and within their own community. I
felt like beating my own head against the wall to think of my own Danni
immersed in this cesspool. Then I thought of the others who lived it every
day with her.

She ended on a positive note with Chapter Eleven: When The Reality Is
Redeemed

"I hadn't anticipated writing this chapter. Happy endings so seldom happen
in our world. In truth, this one hasn't either, but I have seen a glimmer
of hope. It came at a most unlikely place and time, amid an improbable
tangle of bodies. Two among them had known each other's touch before. The
touch became a caress, which begat a kiss, which rekindled a desire that
had never really died, despite the tears and trauma.

In that magical previous time, Desire had been the child of Love, Trust,
and Faith. Fantasy and Reality had been one and the same - and could be
again if you tried. How much of yourself are you willing to invest in the
attempt? How much are you willing to risk? How much is Happiness worth?

I finished those words on Thursday night. I felt so uplifted by them, felt
happy endings just might be possible after all. Then, I read the epilog:

"Celine D'Arcy died on a warm afternoon in April from complications of
AIDS. She didn't linger, which was a blessing — one of the few in her
twenty-six years. The sun streaming in through the hospital window warmed
her, where the embrace of her long-departed lovers could not. Some of her
friends attended; those that were strong enough to face the shadow of
mortality that might all too soon embrace them as well. Her family
attended her, too; that is, if you count me as 'family'. She seemed to
think so. We were family at a time we had no other, whatever our
respective reasons. That made me feel special, loved. Isn't that what
family is all about? I hope she felt the same way. That, and this book are
her only legacy."

I cried myself to sleep around three AM, then called in sick on Friday. I
read it again over the weekend.

Danni's book broke huge and stayed huge. She made the rounds of the talk
shows. Some interviewers were encouraging and sympathetic. The rest were
at least civilized, given her commercial success. Dear God, she looked
beautiful! Then again, she always had. Her body looked even better under
the studio lights. She wore the charcoal suit and crepe blouse that looked
so good on her. Her new boobs were exquisite!

Danni revealed the book had originally been commissioned as a free-lance
feature story for a major men's magazine (that must have been the "big
project" she had mentioned). She had felt a special attraction, even
kinship to that world as long as she could remember. She had felt lucky to
snag the assignment, but the T-girl community was notoriously closed to
outsiders, particularly men. She wasn't sure how she was going to get
close enough to the people to do the story justice. Then, Kismet
intervened, in the form of the person she loved most in life. Through an
unbelievable series of circumstances, she was handed her 'entré' to that
world on a silver platter — along with a unique insight she could never
have achieved as a man.

As she delved more deeply into the story, she realized she could not
possibly do it justice in twenty-five hundred words. She went back to the
magazine, notes in hand, and cut a deal with their publishing arm for a
book instead. She was then able to detail her own story, in depth, as well
as those of the other girls.

One of the humorous aspects of the story — one she told on several talk
shows — described her return to the magazine's corporate headquarters,
this time as a woman. Upon her arrival, there had been a misunderstanding
by the receptionist. The woman had sent Danni to the wrong room — the one
where they were auditioning prospective centerfolds. She had actually made
the first cut when the 'error' was discovered. When the Publisher heard
about it, she sent Danni back downstairs for the photo shoot, to be used
as a publicity tie-in to the book.

One of the interviewers, a woman, pursued the angle of Danni's own
transformation.

"Danielle, you have previously mentioned you would not have been able to
get close to the transgender community had you not been one yourself. Does
that mean you transitioned specifically to write this book?"

"No, of course not! To be honest, I wasn't even thinking about the story
when my transformation began. I had always harbored a desire, but had
never acted upon it, for fear of turning my real-world existence and
personal relationship upside-down. It began as a sensual experiment
between two consenting adults and blossomed from there. She didn't want it
to end and neither did I. The entré it gave me to the "T" community was a
nice plus. I have no regrets about either."

"You said your transformation was brought about by 'the person you loved
most in life'. That was your wife, wasn't it?"

"Actually, she considered me to be her wife."

"Is she, uh, more masculine than you were?"

"Not even close. I can only dream of being the centerfold material she is.
When we were together, I wanted the whole world to see her and know how
lucky I was. The only reason I don't reveal her identity now is my respect
for her privacy."

"Wow. Returning to the subject of your transformation. She enjoyed it? She
enjoyed you as a woman?"

Danni smiled.

"Several times a night."

The interviewer grinned.

"How were the forces that drove the two of you apart different from the
forces that split up more conventional couples?"

"They weren't different at all. In spite of people's perceptions of us, my
spouse and I were subject to the same personal and social pressures as
every other couple. The cause of our split was distressingly — or
reassuringly — common to everyone. The people broke, not the gender
dynamic."

"I couldn't help but notice you still wear your wedding ring. Aren't you
divorced?"

"No. Technically, we are only estranged, unless she has taken some recent
action that I am not aware of."

"So there is still a chance for a reconciliation?"

Danni smiled again, looking inward.

"When we first split I thought: 'no way'. I immersed myself in my work —
working on this story. I saw so much emptiness, heartache, people who had
no one who would accept them for who they were. I looked back at what I
had had and realized how good it had been. I thought about it a lot. I
began to see that the thing that split us up was... well, I won't call it
petty, but it just didn't seem so important anymore. Then, something
happened one night, a couple of months ago... well, let's just say the
chances are looking better."

"Have you spoken to her recently?"

"Yes, I have. We ran into each other a while back. It felt good after such
a long separation. I remembered why I fell in love with her in the first
place."

"What would you say to her if she were here right now?"

"I would tell her she is still The One. She always has been and always
will be. That is why I still wear the ring."

"What do you think she would say to you right now?"

"I wouldn't presume to put words in her mouth."

I could answer that one — even through my tears.

"I WOULD TELL YOU TO COME HOME, DAMMIT!", I screamed at the television. "I
LOVE YOU. I ALWAYS HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL!"

"Will you call her?"

"I think so, when I'm ready. That will probably have to wait until after
the book tour."

"Thank you, Danielle Devereaux."

Book tour?

I went to the publisher's web site and looked it up. She would be here in
a week!

***

The autograph session began at three. I don't know if she saw me in line.
I had gotten to the bookstore early — or so I thought. There were already
three-dozen or so people in line, waiting for Danni and her entourage to
show up. A hundred or so more came after me. All wanted to get their
copies signed by a genuine 'home town celebrity'. A few of the men had
brought copies of the magazine to have her autograph the historic
centerfold.

She didn't make a huge scene as I handed her my copy. The media was there
and I don't think she wanted them to know who I was. Even then, she was
protecting my privacy. Her eyes sparkled a bit more brightly than before
and her smile was a bit larger. She was very deft in her slight-of-hand. I
don't think anyone other than me noticed she exchanged my copy for one
that had been in her lap.

I stifled my impulse to look until I was out the door. The overleaf was
completely filled on both sides. I froze in the middle of the sidewalk,
rooted to the spot, as I read her words.

Dearest Kristen,

You were, are, and will continue to be the love of my life. Nothing,
before or since, even comes close to the joy I shared with you. The night
I left was the most anguished and painful ever, more so than anything I
have endured since. There hasn't been a day I haven't thought of you, of
us, with longing and regret. There hasn't been a night I haven't missed
your touch, your warmth, and the nearness of you.

Much has happened in my life, as this book details. Some of it took place
while we were still together. None of it could have happened, but for your
imagination, creativity, passion, and love for me. I am a better person
for it, inside and out. Not all the world may agree with that assessment,
but I cannot be all things to all people. I must content myself with being
the best I can be for me. I had hoped I became the best I could be for
you, as well, but I don't count on that. Either way, thank you for helping
me achieve what I have.

I never stopped loving you. I did stop believing in you. I was probably
wrong in doing so. You had always been honest with me about your casual
infidelities, where others would not have been. I accepted you on that
basis, foolishly thinking, like so many others, I could 'change' you in
time. Instead, you changed me — for the better, I think. The exceptions to
that were my heightened, feminine emotions — the negative ones. I
discovered them the night I caught you with Ron Randall.

I actually felt the first pangs of jealousy at Friday's when he first hit
on you. Remember what happened when we got home? I tried so hard to make
you forget all about him. Of course, you didn't, did you? I came home to
find you fucking him in our bed. I had never felt so betrayed in my life.
Oooh, how I wanted revenge! I got it, too. I slept with Lexi and Gwen and
rejoiced when you found out.

When I found out what really happened that night, I almost died. I am
still uncomfortable you invited them over without including me in the
loop. Still, I would never wish that on you or anyone we know.

I got into The Life because it is so intimately linked to the social
fabric of the girls I wrote about. If I wanted to understand THEM, I had
to understand IT. I had an ulterior motive, too. I dated men and sometimes
women, thinking I was, in some way, getting back at you. Of course, it
didn't work out that way.

A lot of it was pretty mechanical. There was nothing remotely attractive
about most of my dates; I just took the money and did what they wanted.
Still, there is something intoxicating about seeing that look in their
eyes, the look that says they want me so badly they are willing to pay to
have me. I know if I had dated more, or longer, I would have been just as
burnt out and dead inside as the other girls, but I didn't, and I'm not
sorry I feel the way I do.

Every once in a while, I got a guy who was really HOT, one that got me off
even as I was getting him off. The best ones were usually spontaneous,
pick-ups in whatever club I was working (the guy I was with at Gotham that
night was one of those). Seeing that look in his eyes, seeing the bulge in
his pants, knowing I made that bulge happen, and I know I just have to
have him. We would go somewhere, and I would peel off his pants, then
touch that beautiful cock of his for the first time.... Mmmm, Baby, that
just makes me so wet! I know this sounds sappy, but I think I understand
you better now.

I never slept with Celine, but not for lack of desire. She would not allow
it. I did not find out why until later. Say what you will about her. Once
you got past the 'attitude', she was one of the most decent, caring human
beings I have ever met. In fact, she reminded me of you. Losing her was
like watching you die before my eyes. I suffered for that, and still do.

Seeing you at Gotham on your birthday, sharing that special fantasy with
you, made me realize just how empty my life has been without you in it. I
cannot forget what happened to make me leave you, just as you cannot
forget what I have done since. The best we can do is to forget it matters.
You made me what I am today, in every sense. In so doing, you made us
stronger; perhaps strong enough to survive this little blip on the radar
screen. I still wear my ring, and proudly. As a very smart cookie once
pointed out to me, "this is forever." My greatest mistake, and regret, is
not taking her at her word. If we give it some time, perhaps we can fix
even that.

With all my love,

Danni

I had thought I was all cried out. I was wrong. How long had it taken her
to formulate those words? What am I talking about? Danni is a professional
writer, an author now, and a damn good one. She probably knocked it off in
one quick draft. Give it some time? Take all the time you need, Sweetie;
I'll be waiting.

Through my tears, I almost missed the hastily-scribbled Post-It note stuck
on the title page.

I'll be done here by five; O'Malley's after. Would you like to share a
fantasy?

D.

I ran for the car as fast as my feet would carry me. God help anyone who
stood between me an O'Malley's front door!

Notes:

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