A man decides he suffers from a Hormonal Imbalance and finds a solution. A topical solution, that is.

The author welcomes feedback at [email protected]

Dani’s Turn
By Mel Huntington
The author welcomes feedback to [email protected]

January 5, 2018

Six months ago, I buried my wife Jamie. Perhaps you’ve heard but I’ll say it here: Cancer sucks. I finally feel ready to move on and so today I slipped on her peach dress, with the matching narrow belt and pumps. She was right, I do like how it feels, the soft material against my smooth legs. Even after her passing my wife maintains her unblemished streak of being right. And good. And caring.

And loving me unreservedly.

I’ve spent six months mourning her, for her absence, and for my unwillingness to share myself with her fully, at least, not until she was almost gone. It was shortly after she had been moved to hospice care, having finally given up on any further experimental treatment plans. There was a beautiful private garden where patients could sit, feeling the warm sun against their pale skin as they found whatever pleasures remained in the time they’d been granted.

“Please promise me you won't spend the rest of your life alone,” she had started.

“Tell me you'll try to find another woman after I'm gone. Keep me in your heart. But leave room for someone new if she comes along. I know your natural state is solitude, Danny, and neither of us have any family left and your closest friends don't live nearby. Please try to find someone. Don't spend your life alone."

I paused and looked in her eyes. There was something there that told me I should speak candidly now, and so I did.

“Honey I can’t really think about that right now. But I do have to tell you something and I hope you can just let me speak until I’m done.”

“What is it darling?”

“From a very young age I have always been confused about myself. My identity. My earliest memory is of my father bathing me. I tucked my penis between my legs and told him I looked like Mommy. Let’s just say I never did that again, not with anyone else around.

When I was seven or eight I was shopping with my mother and I went to the magazine section of the grocery store. There was a Playgirl in easy reach and I didn’t even know what it was but I was drawn to it and pulled it out and leafed thru it, lingering over the male centerfold. My mother saw it then and snatched it out of my hands.

When puberty came, I found porn, both online and in print. I always placed myself in the girl’s skin when I fantasized and masturbated. I looked for hetero stories told in the first-person female. And I avoided Point-of-View videos since they almost always were from the view of the man.

That wasn’t the view I wanted.

And I was especially drawn to depictions of woman on man oral sex, to the point of obsession. With no siblings and a working mom, the house was always empty when I got home from school, and I’d slip on my mother’s bra or her bikini top, smear on her lipstick and fellate the most phallic-like banana in the house.

Then, when I was 15 my parents sat me down and told me something I never knew, but maybe I had known all along. They told me I had a fraternal twin sister, who was going to be named Danielle, who was stillborn.

And it all clicked in my mind. I thought, this is why I have these feelings. Daniel wasn’t supposed to live, it was supposed to be Dani. Or maybe Dani’s soul transferred into my body when she died? Now I knew …

Why I wanted to be able to pretend my penis wasn’t there.
Why my voice didn’t change that much and is hardly deeper than my Mother’s was, and nothing like my Father’s basso profundo.
Why I stayed closer to my Mother’s height. All the men on both sides of my family were at least six feet tall. Yet I stopped growing at 5’7”.
Why I screamed and cried until my parents allowed me to grow my hair as long as I wanted.
Why I never wanted muscles. Or cared about sports.
Why my feelings are always so close to the surface, and nothing my father said or threatened would ever change that. I cry when I want to, easily and often. And over the silliest things.

“It was your sweet sensitive nature that drew me to you, Danny.”

I smiled at her interruption, then I repeated my name.

“Danny. I never wanted to be Dan or Daniel because I always heard my name as “Dani” with one N and an I at the end.”

I stopped speaking and accepted a tissue from Jamie to dab at my eyes. Her eyes were soft and loving.
"For someone who always believed he is a woman attracted to men, you did a pretty great impersonation of a man attracted to women. What made you pursue me?"

“Testosterone is an incredibly powerful thing, Jamie. It makes you want what it wants, and what it wanted was girls. Gay sex was out – the thought of it makes me nauseous.”

And most importantly, I loved you from the moment I met you. I know I implied something else, back when we started dating, but you’re the only woman I have ever been with. The only person, period.”

“You are such a sweet sensitive lover I wanted another woman to experience that.”

“Well, when you watch pretty, passionate, woman-centric porn you’re going to pick up on the things women like. And thinking about what you were feeling probably helped with staying power.”

Like when I gave you head. I loved how your fingers would wrap around mine, until your climax started and you’d jerk your hands away and your body thrashed around so. How sensitive you were afterwards. I’d think, that’s what Dani should be feeling. That your orgasms always seemed so much bigger than mine, and that if I were Dani, that’s what I’d experience.

Or when you gave me head. I also wondered how you felt, so intimately connected to me. What were you thinking?”

“I was mostly thinking, ‘how long do I have to do this before we can move on to the fucking?’”
She said laughingly.

“No, I’m kidding. I love that part of being a woman. So intimate. It always got me as hot and bothered as it did you.”

“That’s how I’ve felt too … that if I were a girl or really could just live as one, I’d be happy if I just found a man who accepted me and was happy with just oral sex.”

“You know, Dani-with-an-I, I sort of had an inkling that you might have a secret you had never shared.”

“Oh?”

“It happened right before my last hospital admission. I had to go on your computer and the auto-fill in your web history filled in a site that sold bras and panties designed to fit men. I didn’t think too much about it, I just figured you’d followed a link somewhere on a lark.”

“Damn auto-fill,” I said, and laughed. “I never ordered anything.”

She laughed and said “You have my permission to buy anything you want. But I really think you should consider padded panties, to fill you out like a girl.”

“I was sure if I ever told you the truth you’d cut off my testicles without aid of anesthesia. That might have helped solve my problem but if I ever take that step, I’d rather have it happen in a sterile surgical suite.”

“Oh, my dear sweet husband. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve felt, estranged from your own body for all these years. I just wish you had told me before I got sick.”

I looked at her quizzically.

“If the Big C hadn’t interfered, I could have helped you explore and experience life as a woman. Helped you with make up and clothes. Maybe pleasuring each other as girls. Or going out as two girlfriends and bringing two men home. Then you’d really satisfy your desires.”

It was then that my emotions gushed forth in great heaving sobs. At the release of all the stress I’ve felt and at the realization that my wife truly loved me without reservation, and that I was a bastard for never trusting our relationship enough to tell her the truth and now that I had told her, this damn cancer was taking her away from me.

We cried together until we were both cried out, and then she spoke.

“I think you’ll make a pretty girl. You already have androgynous looks. Not a muscular build or prominent Adam’s apple. In fact, we’ve already seen how you look with make-up and my peach dress. Remember that bet you lost a few years ago, when you had to dress up as a woman for Halloween? Wait a minute, you wanted to lose that wager, didn’t you?”

I smiled sheepishly at the memory, A co-worker had made some bet about sports and he was such a loud mouth I didn’t know what I was doing but he took the Cowboys and gave the points and they had still covered, whatever that meant. What I knew was that he thought from my talk at work that I was some sort of transphobe, so the loser had to dress as a woman for the office Halloween party.

“The problem was I had to pretend to be uncomfortable and unhappy. And I couldn’t exactly try to act like a girl.”

“Well I think peach is going to be a good color on you, especially in the summer when you’re tan. Dani-with-an I, I’d like to revise and extend my previous comments.”

My wife, politician until the end, I thought.

She cupped my cheeks and held my gaze.

“Darling, I want you to find yourself, and be happy.”

Afterwards, she kept calling me “Dani-with-an-I” until I told her it was all right, she could just call me Dani, that the “I” was implied. “Find your happiness” were the last words she said. I never left her side until she passed, June 5th, 2017. Jamie Huntington was 35, and her husband, Dani, née Danny Huntington was about to turn 32. We had been together eight years six months and eighteen days.

Cancer really and truly sucks.

January 6 2018

Today I arranged a Tinder date. I was going to finally do that thing I’d been thinking about since I was 13 or 14, or maybe even longer. I’d swiped right a number of times but my profile photo must not have appealed to many. But some were interested still, after I explained what I was looking for.

I had a young man set to come over in an hour and I busied myself getting ready. First, I put on the first bra and panty set from the company selling such undergarments to men. I liked them but not as much as I hoped. The flatness of the fit against my chest distracted from the feminine nature of the material and the bra itself. It made me think of those boy panties. Why would a girl want panties that looked like tighty whities? What was the purpose of a bra that fell flat against a man’s chest?
I could appreciate the fit of the panty however. I’d never pass wearing those, but a “skosh more room” certainly came in handy, like the old commercials for relaxed fit jeans.

I used my wife’s make up as best I could, with foundation, blush, eye shadow and most importantly, liberal amounts of lipstick. I dabbed her perfume behind my ears, slipped on her clip-on shell earrings, and put on her negligee before walking out to the living room to wait.

Unfortunately, my date was late, and as I sat on the couch, my excitement turned to worry, and then fear. My mind went in directions I didn’t want to go, but couldn’t help:

What if he laughs at me?
What if he has an STD?
What if he wants to reciprocate?
What if he is too strong to fight off, and wants to take me in my ass?
What if he brings friends? I might fight off one but not more than that.

I tried to calm myself but I could not, and I dashed around the house turning lights off. Within a minute I saw lights turn on the driveway. I lay down on the couch, out of sight, as he approached the front door and knocked.

What was wrong with me? A man who said he would let me suck his cock was standing outside, and I was frozen in place. My phone started to buzz. I was sure he could hear it but I didn’t move. When the lights went back down the driveway and pulled away, I read the text messages.

Hey sorry I’m late. Are you there?
I hear the phone in there. You a fucking cock tease?
Don’t ever swipe me again, you cocksucking faggot!

I'm not a faggot cocksucker. I said aloud, as tears trailed down my cheeks.

I'm a woman. A straight woman who doesn’t quite look like one, who used to put on lipstick and his mother's bikini top while fellating bananas before graduating to silky bras, garter belts and hose, and long dildos attached to mirrors, the better to watch myself watch the imaginary man in my head whose cock I was so eagerly and passionately sucking.

Be myself, Jamie had said. OK but how? I cursed God for taking her away from me, and I went to bed, softly crying into the pillow. I felt alone, and even with the furnace going full blast, I felt very, very cold.

January 7 2018

Today, I discovered sinthetics.com, and with it, a new plan.

It’s amazing what you can find, along with malware, when you click on “things you might enjoy”. In this case I didn’t start with sinthetics.com. It started on the website Vice, with a video report by a woman about sinthetics.com. The headline said “The World’s First Hyper-Realistic Male Sex Doll is Really Something.”

The video certainly showed why.

I watched it over and over again. It started with a view of two people in bed, soft focus, with the woman stroking her man’s arm, his toes moved independently as she moved her own against his. Then we see her head on his chest, their fingers curled around each other. With each squeeze of her hand her lover’s body moved as if it were a person. Only at the end, when his handsome face and piercing blue eyes came into focus, could you tell it was a doll she lay with.

There were sections on the manufacturing process, and the fact that male doll orders now equal female doll orders for this small company. How “Pleasure Trails” are a popular choice for the purchasers of male dolls. It wasn’t hard to figure out this was the male equivalent of ‘landing strips’.

There was a long segment on the manufacturing of the penis, and the exacting effort to duplicate the scrotum and floating testicle inside, and the nearly endless customization options.

At the very end of the video, the woman was introduced to her own completed doll. She stood beside him, her hand cupping his flaccid penis, and spoke of how he was so indistinguishable from a real man, it was ‘creepy.’ That it was like being next to a living person, only a person incapable of independent movement or speech. I thought, like an ALS sufferer who had only lost the ability to speak and move, and none of their youthful form or function.

The last frames showed her, in a non-pornographic way, having sex with her new toy, holding his hands against her breasts, her lips in a wide grin, telling her audience that other than being in total control, she could not possibly tell the difference between this man and any other she’d had.

Here was a man who would not demand anything more than I gave him. Who wouldn’t laugh at me, let alone physically harm me or spread any disease. My wife had been right: my natural state is one of solitude. I could become a woman for a man like this.

I was sold.

I went to the website and clicked on the male doll options. One especially caught my eye. His name was Lazarus, and he had chiseled facial features. I chose cream complexion with multi-tone skin finish for maximum realism. Wavy black hair to his ears, with blue grey eyes. Clean shaven, and no piercings, tats or body markings. Light body hair, dark.

For his body type I chose customization, for a taller man with broader shoulders and thicker chest muscles than the standard, skinnier model options. When finished he would be 5’10” and weigh 170 lbs.

Manscaped, with pleasure trail down to his seven-inch circumcised, upgraded erect cock (upgraded to dual density silicone for greater realism), with flaccid cock to match. I liked the idea of 7” long manhood, because I remembered the last dildo I owned was six inches. Lazarus would be a little bit more and I liked that there would be more of him to explore.

Finally, I chose “Casual Wear” for his shipping clothes.

When the design was done, I could see Lazarus with all options, clothed and unclothed. He looked like a northeastern preppy, I thought, and was very pleased with my selections.

I became curious about the derivation of Lazarus so I opened a new tab to google it. In Hebrew the parts break down to “God” and “help” or “whom God Helps”. I knew then I was doing the right thing – I need God’s help to find my happiness, and God – thru Lazarus – was going to help me.

I clicked submit and took care of the payment. The cost - almost $15,000 - was of no concern, since Jamie’s life insurance had paid out $750,000, and between her inheritance from her Mom when she died, and mine from my Father when he passed, I had no financial worries at all.

The six-month build time was also fine with me. There was much to do to become Dani.

June 5 2018

Today is one year to the day since my wonderful, supportive wife Jamie passed but I am actually excited instead of sad. That’s because I have a text message update from FedEx. Lazarus is “out for delivery by 8 pm.” Funny what an extra thousand dollars does with a pending order with an extremely customer-oriented business. I asked them to make a particular date for delivery, and they did, and FedEx is coming thru too.
A year to the day, just as my wife encouraged, I was going to start to “find my happiness.”

I called out, “Alexa, do I sound like a woman?” and I smiled at her response, just as I had when Siri first started answering in the affirmative. The website had said that vocal feminization exercises would take at least three months but with so much time to practice, I’d “graduated” even sooner. Now, my voice felt comfortable, assured, natural.

A few weeks after I had Siri and Alexa’s approval, I had started making my late-night trips to Walmart dressed as Dani, eventually going from the self-service check out to the manned check out lines. My nerves slowly melted away and as I felt my confidence build, I thought I got catcalled once or twice. I didn’t dare turn around though. I didn’t want to know the caliber of Walmart shopper that catcalled women at 4 am.

I stepped into the bathroom. Electrolysis had taken care of all the male-pattern hair I used to have, but I had done nothing with my legs, as I always wanted to take on that most feminine of tasks, keeping my legs smooth myself. I stepped into the shower, applied the lotion, and slowly and carefully ran the razor over my skin, then rinsed and dried my legs.

Next, I spread moisturizer on my smooth legs, then all over the rest of my skin. It was amazing the effect this regimen had, making my skin glow with a delightful softness.

I stepped into the closet, now filled with a mixture of my wife’s clothes and the many outfits I’d found online. I turned toward the tiny area occupied by my old, male clothes. I pulled on a pair of jeans over an old pair of boxer briefs and picked a purple striped polo shirt to match. It was the last shirt my wife ever purchased for me. It seemed right.

“Ironic, isn’t it that you are starting the first day finding your happiness wearing men’s clothes, Dani-with-an-I?” I asked my reflection.

I sat down to fix my lunch and wait for FedEx, and then I had an “Oh shit” moment. Lazarus was going to arrive any moment, all 170 pounds of him. I quickly searched for a medical supply house on my phone. An offer of an extra $500 got me a promise that the wheelchair would arrive within the hour. It did.

Time passed and I grew anxious at how long FedEx was taking. At 7 pm I was cleaning up my dinner when the doorbell finally rang. I greeted the deliveryman and signed, wondering if he noticed the length of my nails or the high gloss pink beds and white tips.

Lazarus wore jeans shorts and the t-shirt I had shipped to Sinthetics, a vintage wrestling t-shirt from the 90s that my Father had owned.

I was about thirteen when Degeneration X was so popular, and my father didn't like me watching his wrasslin' shows with so much sexy entertainment. But it wasn't the lingerie matches or the hand-print bikini tops that caught my attention. It was sexy wrestlers like the Heartbreak Kid, Sean Michaels, who I paid attention to. “I got two words for ya” was on the front of the gold t-shirt, and the reflexive crowd response was what I planned to be doing soon.

The matching polo shirt I’d paid for was in a sealed bag inside the box. By the bulge in his shorts, I knew they had shipped him with the erect cock in place, just as I had requested.

Curiosity demanded that I open up the box that held the flaccid cock. I marveled at the way it felt. Unlike the woman in the video, I’d only ever touched my own, but it felt truly indistinguishable.

Giggling now, I pulled him out of the box and onto the wheelchair, then moved him into a seated position on the couch. Then I looked Lazarus over. He was a work of art. As handsome as I had thought when I first looked at the preview photo on the website, and yes, so lifelike it did feel creepy, like there was a man trapped inside this immobile but totally life-like body.

Finally, I spoke.

“Hi Lazarus, I’m Daniel. I hope you don’t mind but Dani isn’t quite ready for you. Let me go see how she is doing.” I left him in the living room, the TV on for company, and slipped out to my bedroom.

My male clothes came off quickly, as well as the cord that held my pony tail in place. I quickly brushed out my hair a bit while seated at what was once my wife’s vanity, hers and my own makeup spread in front of me. With so much time to practice, it wasn’t long before I had achieved a perfect evening look for my date, with smoky blue eye shadow and the lipstick that I had loved for so long.

I didn’t care that Lazarus was dressed so casually, I wanted to look my best for him. I slipped on the padded panties that made me a size 8 and pulled the garter belt on over them. I carefully slipped the delicate hose over my manicured and painted toe nails and slid them up my legs and secured them to the garters.

Next came my 36C breast forms, best I could find, secured to my chest by the spray adhesive. Finally, I slipped on the matching bra, just the way I had watched my mother many years ago. I slipped the straps over my shoulders, then bent a little, admiring how the silicone swayed below me, before capturing them in the cups and securing the clip behind my back. My hands slipped inside each cup, settling the girls in place, just as I had watched Mom and Jamie do so many times.

I pulled out the peach dress, a wrap-around design much like the one my wife had helped me into for that Halloween party years ago. But I didn’t need her help anymore, I had become quite expert at the ins and outs of women’s clothes. I stepped into the matching pump and finally turned my attention back to my hair.

As I began to brush it out, I wondered why I had questioned whether women’s shampoo really could do what they claimed in their advertisements. My brown hair had turned thick, lustrous and shiny with the regular benefit of Jamie’s brand. It fell to mid-back, and I arranged it to fall half in front and half in back.

I admired my reflection in the mirror, the modest décolletage the dress revealed, and the way my legs flashed underneath the hem of the dress when I swished my hips.

“Are you ready Dani? Your man awaits.”

I walked into the living room and saw Lazarus as if it was the first time.

“Hello, I’m Dani. It’s nice to meet you, Lazarus.”

I took his hand off his legs and shook it gently.

“Is it OK if I sit here?”

I sat, crossing my legs and adjusting the dress so that the top of my stockings were visible.

“I like your shirt. You know, Sean Michaels was the original boy toy of wrestling. Will you be my boy toy? You’re very cute …”

My hand had fallen into his lap, on his inner thigh, and I threw my arm around his neck and kissed his lips, slipping my lower lip between his, and dragging my upper lip over his upper lip, just as my wife used to kiss me. I didn’t care that his eyes stayed open or he didn’t respond, I was lost in the feeling of being close to a man, a hunk, and I began to explore his face and neck and ears. The spritz of cologne I had requested still lingered on him, making the experience even more real.

My right hand was moving over his crotch now, touching his stiff cock, stroking it lightly thru the material.

“Hmmm, you’re getting turned on too aren’t you Lazarus? Let me see how you like a little more of me.”

I stood up, and stepped away from the couch, running my hands thru my hair before I started a little dance I had practiced for this moment. I grabbed the sides of the dress and swished them forward and back, hiking it up a little to show my legs, then I turned around and let my hips sway before stopping, my feet together, then I did an elaborate hip swivel down to the floor, then back up again, ending bent at the waist, my butt wiggling in the air.

I strutted back towards Lazarus, this time working at the ties that kept my dress on, until it was loose enough to slip over my shoulder, showing my bra strap, and turning away from him, I dropped the material off my shoulders and down to my garter.

I turned again, stepped out of the dress, and kept one arm across my chest, and one demurely covering my crotch, as I strutted back to him.

My arm fell away from my chest.

“I’m sure you’ll like these.”

My other arm went to the hip that was created by the padding of my panty and revealed what else was inside.

“And I hope you don’t mind this.”

My arms went over his shoulders and I sat in his lap.

“I’m glad you like everything you see, Lazarus.”

I leaned forward, offering my breasts to him, before I began to work at his t-shirt, lifting it up and thru each arm in turn. I looked at the front.
“Are those two words “suck it!?”

I slipped off him then, and beginning at his neck, I kissed and explored down toward his broad chest, kissing and teasing his nipples before I drifted lower, to his pleasure trail, where my fingers tugged at his belt until the shorts were partially undone, and I could finally reach in and touch his cock under his boxer briefs. I turned and smiled at him, then reached for the third cushion on the couch and placed it on the floor below him. I kicked off my shoes before I knelt.

Seated now, I tugged his jean shorts off, and when his boxers moved with them, I lifted them back into place. I pulled the material tight against the shaft, my thumb and forefinger at each end.

“Very nice Lazarus.”

I kissed his manhood thru the material but I could wait no longer, and my hands slipped around his ass, yanking the underwear off him. His cock shifted from sideways to gloriously erect, and I brought my face alongside and smiled again.

“Very very nice, Lazarus.”

I licked from the root to the tip, luxuriating in the sense that this was virtually a real cock, and then I swirled my tongue around the head before sliding my lips up and down the shaft, as far as I could go,

It was then I realized what “medical grade silicone” meant. It meant no odd chemical taste. The texture was exactly what I imagined, and the taste was neutral, meaning that I’d never have to cut short a blow job the way the chemical taste of other dildos had cause me to in the past.

I moved away from the shaft, eager to find out how his sac felt. It was remarkable. Inside a thin gel, marble sized balls floated. I eagerly tongue bathed and gently sucked each sac, mixed in with soft kisses in his inner thighs, and gliding my hands up and down the shaft.

I glanced down at my panties and realized how excited I was, and then it came to me.

“You’re making my pussy wet Lazarus.”

I slipped the top of the panty down and brought my clitty up to the head of his cock. It glistened like never before, and a quick rub transferred my pre-cum to his cock head. Lazarus had gone from no-taste to all-taste. It was wonderful, salty and manly, proof that I was a good girl friend, turning her man on with her body, her hands, her lips and her tongue.

I became crazed with lust then and used all of the moves and motions I’d seen and emulated before, pausing only to transfer more pre-cum. I began to moan around his cock, and in my delirium, I wanted to feel even closer to him, so my hand held his by the wrist, and moved it to the back of my head, pulling it toward him as if he was taking over my mouth now, fucking it the way he wanted, as his climax built.

This sent me over the edge and I leaned back and using the latest bit of pre-cum for lubrication, I climaxed in the strongest most mind-blowing orgasm of my life. My eyes shut and the colors I saw were bright and intense.

But I wasn’t finished. I couldn’t be finished. When my vision cleared, I saw how much cum had hit his stomach, and groin, his close-trimmed manscape, and his cock and balls. I immediately went about tasting his essence. I licked and slurped and scooped his cum into my mouth, loving every bit.

When I was done I smiled at him, and kissed the head of his cock, and crawled back onto the couch, curled up against my man.

“Your cum tastes yummy, babe.”

When my head fell on his shoulder I glanced down and realized that in my eagerness to slurp up his cum I had smeared it into my own breasts and bra. I was quite the mess, and one happy girl.

We sat there for a while before I spoke.

“C’mon babe let’s go to bed.”

I pivoted him back onto the wheelchair and wheeled him into the bedroom. I pulled him over the end of the bed and dragged him up to his pillow, turning him sideways. I slipped the erect cock off of him, cleaned it and slipped the flaccid one on in its place. The erect one I put behind his knee.

I changed into new padded panties, and my “night time” silicone breasts with pocket bra. Then I crawled into bed beside him, his body an S, my butt nestled against his soft, spent, cock. I pulled his left arm over me like a warm blanket, and fell asleep almost instantly, his hand around my waist, covering one hand while my other hand rested on his.

June 6 2018

I awoke with Lazarus’ hand on my butt. My own hands were where they were before but I figured I must have moved it in the night. Any way I slept like a baby, nestled alongside my boyfriend, a welcome change from the tossing and turning that had plagued me, before I met Jamie, and then after she died.

“Hmmm,” I said, placing my hand over his. “Did you sleep well baby? What would you like to do today?”

I turned over, moving Lazarus on his back. My hand went over his right shoulder, and my head nestled into his chest. His eyes were open, his stare vacant, his lips in the same flat expression. In the natural light, I looked down his chest and marveled again at how real he seemed. I hadn’t spent any time last night really exploring his body but now I did, touching and stroking his arm, chest, belly and legs. His skin was malleable but snapped into position in the same taut way my own skin did. I draped my leg over his and dragged my toe nail gently against his ankle.

From head to toe he felt like a man, and then my hand touched his flaccid, squishy and stretchy yet somehow firm manhood.

“I know what I’d like to do.”

I said teasingly, as I began to again kiss and lick and explore my way to his cock. I squeezed and pulled at his cock, only missing the sensation of feeling it grow and change in my hand, but I reached toward his thigh, confirmed the presence of the erect cock, and while I kissed and teased and stimulated his nipple, I reached for and expertly slipped the erect cock into place.

I resumed stroking him, spitting into my hand now for lube, and moved back toward his upper chest, neck, ears and cheeks with soft kisses and contented sighs.

I remembered a particularly erotically-charged position I’d fantasized about before, and I stopped long enough to move Lazarus so that his hands held the top of the headboard, and his legs balanced on his toes. I slid in from behind him, flat on the bed, his cock dangling down toward my hungry lips. I loved this position for the feeling of submission, for having no view of anything but his cock and balls and his powerful legs and abs.

The fact that I could take him into his mouth while holding and squeezing his ass, and rub my breasts against him, only made it more thrilling than I’d even imagined.

When I pulled his ass a little harder, he started rocking on his toes, giving the feeling of him actually fucking my lips. After a few minutes of this I couldn’t handle it any longer and I stopped, slipped my panties off, and came very quickly like last night, and just as powerfully.

I slapped his thigh and said “OK, honey, time for breakfast. You must be famished. I know I am.”

Lazarus sat in his boxer briefs in the kitchen in his wheelchair, while I made my usual eggs and toast, wearing my nightgown. When they were ready, I divided the meal onto two plates, and with Lazarus on my left, I slipped my hand under his as I ate.

“You’re a lefty, right honey? Or are you not very hungry?”

I moved his eggs onto my plate and finished the meal. After I did the dishes I announced it was time for a shower.

“Care to join me?”

I moved Lazarus into the bathroom and into our oversized shower which had two opposing nozzles. I turned on the spray and stood next to my man, wearing my padded panties and breasts secured by pocket bra. He was naked of course, and I stood next to him, washing him but stopping to kiss him and stroke him. Standing next to a powerful man, a smaller woman tugging at his manhood, was another position I’d fantasized about. It was wonderful experiencing it now, his arm over my shoulder, his muscles glistening in the spray, my hands pulling and tugging. This time I imagined that he’d gotten off with my hand.

We got dressed then, me in peach shorts and t-shirt, breasts glued in place and no bra, and he in the jeans shorts and polo shirt that came with him. He seemed to like the same daytime soaps I did, and whenever the mood struck me I just took his cock out and sucked him. It didn’t matter if I came anymore, the mere act released endorphins as if I had cum, and it felt wonderful being his loving, sexy girlfriend.

As I got us ready for bed, I thought back to the early days with Jamie. How insatiable we were for each other, and how this felt exactly the same. Then it came to me: Jamie’s idea of Naked Day. We didn’t go out and we didn’t wear any clothes. We sat on the couch and watched tv or listened to music and we had sex whenever we wanted. I loved those days.

That night I slept curled into his chest, my shoulders in the crook of his arm, my right hand on his stomach. And I again slept like a baby.

June 7 2018

I awoke completely refreshed, in the exact same position except for one thing. Lazarus’ right hand now covered mine which rested on his stomach. I couldn’t believe I could have reached over and pulled his hand on top of mine but I didn’t think about it too long.

Anyway: Naked Day, with one concession – padded panties.

I think Laz liked it.

June 8 2018

Today, Lazarus came.

Well, at least it seemed that way. I decided to work a bit on the one thing missing – my moans were only half of what I wanted to hear. So, I set about making several audio clips, lifted from the countless saved porn video files. It wasn’t hard to isolate different quality moans, from early expressions of pleasure to full throated male climax sounds. I also clipped out sexy talk like “suck that cock baby” and made sure the files were long but varied.

I left Lazarus in the living room with the TV on for company as I worked on the audio edits. The volume seemed to change and I called to him and asked him to turn it down. When the tv went silent a moment later, I stopped and walked out. The remote sat on the couch but now it was up against his shorts. I figured that his weight on the cushion created enough slope to make it eventually slide up against him, engaging the mute button just as I called to him. I assumed.

Any way it was another wonderful step in our relationship, hearing his moans and hearing him react as I pleasured him.

There was just one thing missing.

June 9 2018

Today, Laz and I came together. And I came as a girl would, with her boyfriend manually stimulating her.

With him on the couch, I’d put his hand against my panty, positioned against the underside of the head, where the nerves would have coalesced into a clit for Dani. A finger vibrator with remote control rested against me.

I turned the MP3 player on and began to have my fun, starting slow before I “released the beast” and began to suck him earnestly and passionately. His moans started up, and I felt the moisture in my panties begin to build. I placed his hand on his cock, so I could move his elbow and manipulate it, while his other hand cupped my cheek. It was as if he was holding his cock for me, offering it and then pulling it away, encouraging me to suck and fondle his balls, before turning the shaft back toward my eager mouth.

I kept this up because I knew what was coming.

“Suck those balls, baby” my lover said and I eagerly complied.

Then he moved the shaft forward again and a moment before my lips enveloped him I heard, “Suck that cock baby. You really love that cock, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I cried out. “Yes, I love your cock Lazarus.”

We continued, a marathon session, until I heard his grunts get shorter and closer together. “I’m gonna cum” filled my ears as I clicked on the vibrator against my clitty, and the vibrations pushed me over the edge as Lazarus came too, hard.

It was perfect, the sound of his orgasm from my mouth and lips and tongue, and me crying out as a girl would, cumming only from the good vibrations I felt.

June 11 2018

Today, after breakfast and a shower, I kissed Lazarus goodbye and headed to my first hair salon appointment. I was dressed in jeans, Lazarus' t-shirt from our first night, and peach colored Keds.

I busied myself waiting for the stylist by studying the photos on the wall of different hair styles, then picking up a woman’s magazine to leaf thru. I wanted a more playful cut, something that brought my hair just over my shoulders, with angled cuts to frame my neck and face.

The stylist was a young woman, maybe early twenties and was eager to chat.

"So, Dani, are you seeing anyone? I swear I can't find a decent man anywhere in this town."

"Actually, I am his name is Lazarus. He's a good guy. He always lets me hold the remote, and he's never complained about my cooking."

"Yeah? Is he big?"

"Not terribly. He's five ten."

"No. I mean is he ... big?"

I giggled then and nodded yes.

"That's important for me. My friends say I'm a size queen but if he ain't packin' it, he ain't hittin' it, and I know you know what I'm sayin'."

I smiled and continued to read the magazine in my lap while she worked on my hair. When she was finished, I beamed at the result.

"Have you ever thought about blonde highlights? We're having a special if you're interested. I think nice blonde highlights would really set off your tan, Dani."

I thought about it and quickly agreed. It was a long process with a lot of sitting and waiting but at the end, when my hair was freshly dried, I absolutely loved the result. My brown hair had a beautiful blonde tinge all over. I felt like a new woman.

When I got home I called to Lazarus, apologizing for being gone most of the day. I told him how I talked him up to the girls and asked him what he thought.

I didn't mind that he stayed silent. I was sure he liked it as much as I did.

June 13, 2018
Today was my birthday, and the UPS man arrived with a package. But I knew it wasn’t for me. I opened the door wearing a crop t-shirt with half-bra underneath, and peach shorts. I thought the girls looked very good, and the cute guy in the brown shorts must have thought so too. He stared a second too long before meeting my eyes and speaking.

"Package for Lazarus, Miss ... Hey you changed your hair. It looks really nice."

"Thank you. Is it Ok if I sign?" I gestured at the back of the couch, which faced the TV on the wall opposite the front door.

"He's fallen asleep. Honey? See - out like a light."

He handed the cursor, and I signed "Dani" with a heart above the "i".

"If I were your boyfriend I wouldn't fall asleep on the couch in the middle of the day," he said as he took back the tracking device.

"Well how do you know I didn't wear him out?"

"It wouldn't matter. I'd be ready for another go-round."

"Well aren't you sweet. Next time though, my eyes are up here, 'K?"

He smiled sheepishly and turned away, and I stood at the door until he turned on the walkway, glanced again from my breasts to my eyes, and waved.

I set the box down on the table and practically floated back to the couch. I sat down next to Lazarus and squeezed his hand.

"Did you hear that? The UPS guy was hitting on me. He likes my new hair too."

That night, after dinner, I decided it was time for a little birthday night out, on my own. I wore a fitted peach dress, sleeveless, with 3-inch strappy heels and clutch purse. I admired how the peach color made my golden tan look even darker, just as Jamie predicted. I kissed Lazarus goodbye and headed to a singles bar I had visited before I met Jamie.

I sat at the bar and was about to place an order with the bartender when I saw three young ladies to my right all turn toward the entry. I followed their eyes and saw a handsome man of about 30, with dark hair and blue eyes. I thought he looked like Lazarus except for the five o'clock shadow that gave his manly features a little extra jolt of testosterone. He looked harried and his tie was loose at the neck. His eyes stayed on me and I glanced away, then turned back toward the bar.

A moment later the bar stool next to me was pulled away and he spoke.

"Hi, come here often? I'm Laz.".

"I'm Dani. Did you say your name is Laz?"

"I know, it's not a very common name."

"No, it's not that, it's just - my boyfriend, well my last boyfriend was named Lazarus. And you kind of look like him, too.”

"Really?"

"Yeah, a lot. I don't think you should talk to me, Laz, if we got together it would just be a rebound sort of thing."

"Well I had a girlfriend named Danielle once too. I assume you're not a crazy chick like her if I can convince you I'm not like that bastard Lazarus. Can I buy you a drink?"

"OK. I was about to order a white wine."

Before he could sit down I said, "Could I just ..." and I reached out, held the knot of the tie and lifted it into place. I patted his chest and he slipped onto his chair.

"I just thought you should either ditch the tie or look right."

"And I look presentable now?"

"Very."

"So, what do you do, Laz?"

"I'm a lawyer."

"Oh. Well maybe if you could write up some sort of liability waiver or contract or something, you know, for the risk we're taking."

He grinned playfully, and reached for the nearest napkin, opened it up, and took out an expensive pen and began to scribble on it.

"Now Miss ..."

"Huntington."

"Yes Miss Huntington. As the party of the second part I'll need you to initial here .... and once more here, and again here, and of course sign and date at the bottom."

"And what does this first clause say?"

"It says, 'I've seen that look before. She'll tear my world apart. I'm workin' on my next broken heart."

I laughed. “Brooks and Dunn," I said. "I propose we delete that clause."

Laz X-ed out the scribbles.

"What's this next clause say?"

"It says "But you won't catch me carving up my love. I ain't no puzzle piece that needs to fit. If it takes more than me, then let's call it quits."

"Elton John," I said, recognizing the lyrics to "I Don't Wanna Go On With You Like That."

"And now I must know what we're initialing on this last one."

" If you want a man who understands. You don't have to look very far."

"John Michael Montgomery. I like your musical taste, Laz. And you're very funny."

"And you're very pretty, Dani."

"Thank you. And thanks for those earworms too! At least I like the John Michael Montgomery song best."

I began to sing under my breath "you dreamed of love that's everlasting ..." and Laz leaned in and whispered the next line, "Well baby open up your eyes. I can love you like that ..."

I started crying, softly. Laz opened his pen and wrote legibly this time: "I promise never to make you cry again" and added his initials.

"Don't make a promise you can't keep Laz. I cry pretty easily."

The bartender leaned in and asked if I was all right. I told him I was fine, and Laz and I continued to chat and laugh, about the weather and the life of a lawyer. Laz' attention stayed fixed on me, until he glanced at the three girls who had watched him at the door.

"I think they are jealous I stopped at your bar stool, Dani."

"I would have been too."

I finished my wine. "I really should go home now, it was very nice meeting you, I had a lovely time. You'll get me a notarized copy of that agreement, won't you?"

Laz didn't pressure me into another drink, he only asked to walk me to my car. He offered his arm and escorted me to the parking lot. When we got to the car, I spoke.

"I'm sorry Laz I should have told you the truth. I haven't broken up with Lazarus but we did have a fight and I turned off my phone and I really should check my messages ..."

I was facing the car now and Laz' left hand gripped my right elbow, and his right hand went over my shoulder, turning me towards him.

HIs kiss was soft and short, and he pulled back, as if to be sure he hadn't crossed a line. When he leaned forward again, my lips parted this time and we kissed passionately, a long simmering exploration of each other's lips, tongues and mouths.

My hands stroked his hair as his hands settled around my waist, holding me close against his firm body. Then his hands dipped down to grip my butt, and I broke off the kiss and stepped backwards. His eyes betrayed nothing but I couldn't risk that he'd figure out I was wearing padded panties.

"Woh, fella," I said. "Not so fast."

I ran my hands along the length of his arms, patting his hands as if to glue them in place at his sides. Then he gave that devil-may-care smile again, and I threw my arms around his head, kissing him passionately. His hands stayed stock still.

Finally, I broke off the kiss and told Laz I had to go home. My purse had fallen to the ground and gotten kicked under the car, So Laz got down underneath and found it, collected what had spilled, and handed it to me. Then he handed me his business card, and said, "If you decide to ditch him give me a call, Dani."

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Laz."

As I drove home I could think of nothing but his smile and his scent, the feeling of his arms around me, and his soft lips. Your first kiss was a real doozy, Dani, I thought to myself. I couldn't wait to get home to Lazarus, to release all the pent-up desire I felt.

When I walked in I saw him seated on the couch, in the flickering light of the TV I'd left on.

"Hi honey I'm home. Sorry I was out so late I had drinks with the girls. You know there was a really cute guy there he made me think of you."

I pulled off Lazarus' shirt, and unbuckled and yanked down his shorts.

I began to suck Lazarus' cock, more passionately than ever, wondering if I'd ever have a chance to suck Laz' cock, wondering why I didn't order the shadow beard option on Lazarus. My eyes were closed tight, when I heard Lazarus moan. I sucked him harder then, until I heard him say, "Suck that fucking cock, baby."

I jumped back away from him. I'd never saved that phrase in the sound files I'd created. And I could see there was no green light glowing on the MP3 player on the short cord around his neck.

I quickly turned on the lights, only to find Lazarus sitting with the same expressionless lips, his hands at his sides, his cock glistening with my saliva.

"What the fuck?" I said aloud. Was it my imagination playing tricks on me? My sexual high of before was deflated, and I suddenly just wanted to go to bed, to sleep on all of the surprising events of the day.

For the first time since he arrived, I slipped under the covers without Lazarus beside me. But sleep would not come. Maybe it was Laz from the bar, or maybe I just couldn't sleep without my man next to me, but at 1 am, I gave up and walked back to into the living room. Lazarus stared blankly, as he always did.

"It was your imagination, Dani," I said. "Nothing but your imagination. Lazarus is a doll. A wonderfully realistic but not-quite-real doll."

I again moved the wheelchair into place, and I pulled him into place on his pillow from the foot of the bed. Wheeling the chair away from the bed, I crawled in next to him, thankful to have his familiar form to curl up against.

"Did I give you blue balls, baby? I'm sorry, let me make it all better."

I reached for his cock but it was somehow neither erect nor flaccid, it was in an in-between state and changing rapidly in my hand. My hand jerked away and I gasped as it grew before my eyes, turning sideways before it rose. The tip glistened.

Lazarus broke the silence. His voice was a low sexy rumble.

"I've had blue balls since the day I met you, Dani. Where were you tonight? Your lipstick was smeared and I could smell someone's cologne on you."

My mind lurched and I blurted out, "I'm sorry baby I just met him at the bar, we flirted a bit but it didn't mean anything. Please forgive me."

Lazarus shifted on his side. Before I could process the sensation of his skin brushing against my nipple, I felt his fingers pressing between my legs.

I gasped and my hand moved toward my panties, where I found not silicone padding but my own hips spreading away from my waist. I was a woman, in regular panties which were rapidly turning slick with desire as her man's hands explored his woman's sex thru the lace material.

"Oh my God" began to escape from my mouth but his lips covered mine, and our tongues danced together, our lips releasing and re-engaging in a never-ending battle that no one loses.

He broke off our kiss to move down my neck, as his fingers slipped inside my panties, and then inside me. A moan slipped from my lips and grew louder as his tongue found my sensitive breast, slipped most of it into his mouth, then let it slide out until he caught and held my nipple, nuzzling it with teeth and then tongue and exciting me even more.

My left hand fell over his head and my right cupped his cheek, as I pulled him away for another passionate kiss. I pushed him back into his pillow and began to kiss and explore his ears and neck, then down his broad chest to each nipple, and on to his six-pack, until my head stopped, parallel to his erection. I could feel warmth radiating from it.

I took him into my mouth then, sliding my lips down the shaft, then back up with an audible 'pop' when I released him.

"You're cock tastes delicious."

"You've said that before."

"Tastes even better now."

I licked the shaft like I was catching dribbles of ice cream from a cone, up one side, then up the other. Then I said in a betty boop voice, "sweet lollipop cock."

I engulfed him then, sliding my lips down and up, down and up, from tip to root, lost in the taste and the friction and the rhythm until I heard Lazarus moan, a deep low rumble of satisfaction, so much more pleasing than the sounds from the MP3 player.

My eyes opened and locked together on his as I playfully kissed the head before slipping lower, lifting his ball sac to my mouth, for soft licks before I engulfed each in turn.

When I returned to the head, his hand covered mine, holding my wrist and pulling me toward my pillow. I sank back as he mounted me, hooking his arms under my knees, pushing my legs forward as his lips covered mine.

Then he moved down toward my breasts, stopping at each one as I leaned forward to kiss his forehead, and soft moans escaped my throat.

When he drifted further down my body, my head sank into the pillow, and my fingers reached for his, squeezing them tightly.

I felt his breath as he nuzzled me from bottom to top, and when his face rose above the flatness between my legs, I saw the glistening proof of how wet I was, from the bridge of his nose to the point of his chin.

He then began exploring me, licking and flittering his tongue, totally in tune with my body and my moans, finding and then concentrating on the spot that made me moan loudest, then exploring other areas before returning to it. Finally waves of pleasure began to build and build and when it crashed over me my hands jerked away from his, and my body rose from the bed, twisting away from his relentless tongue, my arm swatting at his shoulder, I was so sensitive I couldn't handle any more.

I had cum just like Jamie used to, and as my panting slowed, I realized he had moved away. My legs were tightly together, and he my hip and smiled. I swung my leg back around him, both of us rising off the bed for a passionate kiss. I reached for his cock, stroking it between my legs, before I sank back into the pillow. Lazarus placed his thumb against my clit, and with the other hand moved his cock alongside my slit until it caught hold, and I split open for him. I trembled as he slid steadily inside me, until I felt so full I thought I might burst.

Then he started fucking me: Deeply, steadily, relentlessly, perfectly.

Before the waves of pleasure built and crested again, I thought that this is what it means to be taken by a man, for him to take control, to be his possession, but in the best way possible. As his woman.

"I'm cumming on your cock, Lazarus," I cried, and he drove himself in and out of me harder then, sending me screaming into another powerful orgasm. When I came down from it he was still fucking me, until he slipped out, and I bent at my waist, mouth open, leaning forward as he stroked himself until cum arced out of his cock over and over and over again, great white streaks covering my face and neck and chest. He tasted wonderful, and when he cupped my chin and used his thumb to move his cum toward my mouth, I eagerly accepted it and then sucked on his thumb after, our eyes locked together. Finally, his thumb slipped out of my mouth and we kissed, tenderly.

He lifted himself off of me and I turned on my side so he could spoon up against me. His strong arm fell across my waist, and his pinky slipped into the fold of skin where my leg ended and my mound began. I exhaled contentedly and shifted against him, pressing my ass into him, feeling his wet, flaccid cock against my ass, wanting to feel our bodies as closely together as possible, his warm skin against my own, his breath against my neck. I moved his hand toward my tummy and squeezed the top.

My head turned toward his, and he spoke.

"I love you Dani."

"I love you too my Lazarus. You've made me truly happy."

"Hmmm" he said. "Naked Day tomorrow?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Naked week!"

June 14 2018

I awoke at 5 o'clock, startled to realize that Lazarus lay flat next to me. I guessed he was like Jamie, who would snuggle into me, then shift when she got too warm, then move closer again later. At least he doesn't snore, I thought, as I turned on my side in the darkness and snuggled into his chest. My hand came down over his heart, and I realized something was wrong.

His chest wasn't moving, and his eyes were open, once again staring blankly.

Had it all been a dream? I was heartbroken and terrified, and I began to cry in the dark. My hands went to my breasts, which were as soft as before, and my nipples stiffened at my soft pinch. My hands drifted down my body, to my waist and hips, and then to the triangle of soft pubes I'd dreamed of for so long.

I began sobbing then, happy for myself but sad over Lazarus. There were so many questions I had that could never be answered now.

Eventually I dozed off again and awoke at 10 am. I slipped my robe on and worked Lazarus into place on his wheelchair. I rolled him into the garage where I had left his shipping box and carefully set him inside. I kissed my finger, and then touched his lips before I covered him with the Styrofoam and closed the lid.

There was a car idling outside and when I stepped back into the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. I pulled my robe tight against myself and answered the door. Laz stood in front of me. He was clean shaven now, and the similarity to Lazarus was even more obvious.

"Laz. I've been thinking about you."

"After you drove off I found your driver's license near where your purse had fallen and I didn't want you to drive without a license so I came over first thing and ... Dani, I couldn't sleep last night, thinking about you. Is he here?"

"No, Laz I broke up with him. I couldn't stop thinking about you either."

I reached for his hand and pulled him inside as our lips melted together. I broke off the kiss to push the door closed and stepped towards him. His hands fell to my hips, and with one hand on his shoulder I tugged at the sash of my robe with the other. As the sides slipped apart, I stepped away, twirling out of the soft material. I smiled as I faced him, and he gave me that same sexy mischievous grin from the night before. He dropped the robe as I spoke.

"Have you ever heard of Naked Days, Laz?"

One a Day for Girls
By Mel Huntington

The author welcomes feedback at [email protected]

This is the story of a mother and her child. She gave birth 18 years ago and was sure she was having a girl. But there were complications and this is the story of how that cosmic mistake got rectified.

I was studying my notes for my Chemistry final when I heard my Mother's voice as she came down the stairs.

"Happy birthday my darling boy! How does it feel to be 18 and only three days from graduation?"

"About the same as it did to be 17 and four days from graduation."

"Such a grumble Gus. Well happy birthday just the same."

"Thanks."

"I know you have one more final tomorrow but I hope you aren't going to keep your nose in that book all day. All you have to do is pass the exam, honey."

I grunted. The phone rang as my Mother started flipping thru a folder of papers.

"Could you get that please?"

I stood up from the kitchen table and lifted the receiver.

"Huntington residence ... no this isn't Elizabeth Huntington. I'm her son Mel. Hold on."

"Mom? It sounds like a telemarketer."

"Just tell them I'm not interested and remove me from their list."

I did as she had asked and returned to my coffee and my notes.

"Are you upset because Daddy isn't here on your birthday?"

"I don't care about that."

"Well if he was here, he might make you cut your hair," she said teasingly

I flipped my long brown hair behind my each ear and said firmly "I'm not. Cutting. My hair."

"I was just teasing honey. No one is going to make you cut your hair. After all you're an adult now."

"Finally, a benefit to being 18," I said.

"Well I know your Father is sorry that he can't be here on your 18th birthday. But you know he's getting paid a lot of money for this one year contract."

"Not to mention freezing his cojones," I replied.

"The money is going to make a big difference for the family, Mel. A big difference for everybody, even you. It's going to be worth it, you'll see. I know he's thinking about you."

I grunted again.

"Now, don't forget your pill."

She fished out a bottle from her purse and handed me the tablet.

"That's one thing that doesn't change. Whether it's Daddy or you, you never let me forget my medicine."

I took the tablet and washed it down with the last of my coffee.

"OK I'm off. Try not to spend the whole day studying honey. I know you'll do fine on this last final exam. Oh one other thing. Could you please run a load of laundry for me? Just whites and lights please. I have a wash bag with my cotton bras in the hamper. Don't forget the bag doesn't go in the dryer, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"OK now give your Mommy a hug."

I sighed and rose from the table. She looked at me.

"You know you can't keep wearing those baggy sweats much longer. It looks like we're skipping spring and going straight to summer. The high is supposed to be almost 80 today."

I shrugged as my Mother came forward. Her arms came around my waist as my hands landed on her shoulders, creating a gap between the two of us.

"What kind of hug is that? You used to be such a cuddly boy."

I turned sideways to her then and slipped my left arm around her shoulders, and now she was hugging across my shoulders, and we stood there for a moment until she kissed my cheek then stepped back.

"Your skin is so soft, Mel. I've wanted to ask you what you've been using."

"Nothing, Mother. Nothing at all."

"Well, I gotta run I'll be late. Happy birthday honey. I just have office hours for my students until 4 o'clock then I'll come straight home so we can start your birthday celebration. Speaking of, don't forget to make dinner reservations wherever you want to go tonight. Have a good day."

"You, too," I said.

I watched the door to the garage close, and when I heard the motor move the garage door back down, I took off up the stairs. It was 8:30.

I reached my bedroom and kicked off my slippers. My pink toe nail polish glistened in the light.
I pulled off the sweat pants my Mother had criticized a moment before, and ran my palms along the satiny smoothness of my legs.

"I do use skin lotion, Mom. Same brand as you," I thought to myself.

Then I prepared the three pieces of tape I needed. It was second nature now, to do what needed to be done, and it took but a moment to hide that part of me that screamed "Mel."

"Yeah, I am going to have a good day," this time aloud. "I get to be Melissa all day long."

I reached into my dresser drawer, the bottom one, far in the back, and pulled out a pair of panties I had rescued from the trash. They were cotton, aqua marine, and had been mine now a long time. I pulled them up and admired the flat V-shape that formed in front. I turned and wiggled my bum, and tried to ignore the way they bunched in the back. My Mother's butt was larger than my own.

"You really should get panties that will fit, Melissa," I reminded myself.

Next I pulled my sweat shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor. I picked up the hair brush from the dresser and began to brush out my hair, stroke after stroke, first one side and then the other.

Cut my hair? I thought. Not in a million years. I hadn't won many battles with my parents, but my hair was a symbol of one of the biggest victories. And I hadn't even known, when the victory occurred, that I had won.

When I was a kid, once a month, every month, my Father would announce that we were going to the barber the following Saturday, no ifs, ands or buts. I'd protest, told him it was my hair and I should decide when and how it should be cut. But each time he told the barber how he wanted my hair cut, and I sat there in sullen acquiescence, month after month and year after year. Sometimes I threw temper tantrums, and sometimes I cried but it wouldn't matter. It never mattered.

Until I turned 12, and suddenly the monthly trips stopped. I had been sick the first time he went to the barber without me, but I knew I had gotten only a temporary reprieve. But the next weekend, and the weekend after that, until two months had passed, my Father said nothing, until I finally asked.

"Well," he'd said, "you're growing up now and we've decided that how you wear your hair is your decision." I kept my composure then, and thanked him, and he told me to thank my Mom too and I did, and then I excused myself. When I got to my room, I started to cry, tears of joy this time.

Now, six years later, my hair fell halfway down my back, and I loved when girls complimented me, and if sometimes people thought I was a girl from behind, that was OK, too.

I reached into the dresser drawer again and this time removed my carefully folded bra, also rescued from my Mother's discards. I slipped the straps over my shoulders, and bent forward a little, bringing the cups underneath, before I straightened up and slipped the hook and clasp together.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The cups dimpled because I didn't fill them out as I wanted.

"It won't be long now, Melissa," I whispered.

"Now let's go see what Mommy bought for us at the cosmetics counter."

I walked into my parent's bedroom, letting my hips sway a bit as I moved, and sat down at my Mother's vanity. I started to look thru her newest purchases and when I saw the smokey midnight blue eye shadow I smiled, and then I started working on my foundation, blush, and lips. Then I turned my attention to my eyes.

I was finishing my mascara when my mother's voice startled me.

"There's my beautiful daughter."

My eyes shifted until they met hers thru the vanity mirror. She was standing in the doorway, her eyes looking impassively at me.

"Mel, I asked you to wash my bras, not wear them. If you wanted a bra to wear around the house you should have asked. Take it off."

I didn't know what to say. Should I tell her the bra is one she threw away? I thought. And wait a minute - did she just say that if I wanted to wear bras she'd buy them for me?

"Come on Mel." She emphasized my given name, interrupting my scrambled thoughts. "Stand up and take it off."

I did as I was told. I stood up and faced my Mother, and slipped the bra straps off my shoulders, reaching behind me to undo the clasps. After it slipped off my left arm, the other strap fell into the palm of my hand. I held if for a moment, then I let my mother's bra fall to the floor. My arms fell to my sides and my Mother's eyes grew big.

"My God, Mel, you've got breasts! And a butt! We've got to get you to a doctor and find out what's the matter with you."

"No, Mommy, no!" I cried. "I love my breasts. Don't take them away from me! I'm a girl, Mommy. I've always known I was supposed to be a girl!"

Then my Mother smiled, a radiant glowing smile, and she moved toward me. I collapsed into her arms.

"Oh Melissa how I've waited for this day. I know honey. Of course I know! Now let me see that body you've been covering up for the last six months."

We stood together at the full length mirror, and she smiled at the reflection.

We are both five foot seven inches tall, her head being higher only due to her heels. She put her hands on my shoulders and pulled them back, making my back arch and my small breasts jut out from my chest.

At first the swelling had been barely perceptible, and I was sure I was only projecting my dreams into a false reality. But then my nipples started to change, growing wider and thicker, and the swelling on my chest couldn't be denied, and then I spent hours in my room, cupping and caressing them, as if they might grow faster.

And my waist had started to shrink then too, or at least it looked that way because my butt and hips were growing. The baggie clothes could still hide them, but standing next to my mother, only wearing her discarded panties, nothing was hidden anymore.

"Such a pretty girl, Melissa. You know I was just like you, a late bloomer. When I was 17 my breasts were no bigger than yours are now."

She pulled her robe off the hangar and gave it to me. Then she sat me on the bed and handed me a tissue which I used to dab at my eyes.

"Melissa ..."

I interrupted her. "I can't believe I am hearing you call me that."

"Well you have breasts and a booty, should I still call you Mel? Melissa is the name I picked out for you when I was pregnant. You see honey, I knew, I mean I absolutely knew, from the moment I found out I was pregnant, that I was going to give birth to a little girl. I told everyone."

She paused as she remembered, then continued.

"I even saw a psychic, an island voodoo psychic lady named Mrs St Croix, who told me I was right. And your father scoffed at me and told me it was silly and no one could know what sex the baby would be. But I believed, and Mrs. St Croix told me I was right. She said there would be complications but that I definitely would have a daughter."

"I couldn't imagine what she could mean by complications, and then I went into labor and after, I asked the doctor, is my daughter healthy and he said, "Well ..."

"They said you had 'ambiguous genitalia' and I said no, she's a girl. But your Father said I was foolish to listen to a 'psychic' and that we have to listen to the doctors And the doctors, the doctors said it was easiest and best for you to have surgery, to take away the female parts and make you fully male, to raise you as a boy. And your Father made me swear that I'd never tell you any of this."

"You mutilated me," I said quietly.

"Oh honey how could we know? It's not like we could ask you what you wanted. We had to make the best decision we could. But it didn't take long to realize we made the wrong decision. When you were three years old ..."

"Daddy was giving me a bath and I tucked my penis between my legs, and I said 'Now I look like Mommy.'"

It was my earliest memory, a story never told to anyone.

"And your Daddy spanked you."

"Beat me," I corrected her.

"And he kept trying to make you into a boy, and you kept rebelling. He kept your hair short, and bought you toy guns and toy soldiers, and wanted you to play football and lift weights and if you cried he said cut it out, boys don't cry and you were so miserable. And it broke my heart."

"I hate him," I said quietly.

"I know you do honey. But I hope you'll change your mind. You know that at the age of 12 your Father stopped making you cut your hair. That was our decision. And remember when the doctor said you had a 'chronic condition' and needed daily medication? Well that chronic condition was really Gender Dysphoria,. And the medicine was hormone blockers."

"It was a test," she continued. "We wanted to see, if you didn't develop into a young man, become more like your father, would you say anything? Would you watch your classmates reach puberty and nothing changed for you, would you question it? And your silence told us what we knew. What I knew all along.

"So six months ago when Daddy left for this job in Alaska,"she continued, "We switched the meds and I started giving you estrogen. Why did you think your breasts started growing, honey?"

"I thought God had finally heard my pleas. My nightly prayer that I wake up and would be a girl."

"Well not God, Melissa, but Mommy and Daddy. We're the ones who heard your pleas."

She pulled out the bottle from her purse and showed it to me.

"Please ma'am may I have some more?" I said in a British orphan accent. She smiled and told me I could have as many as I wanted, and it took two glasses of water before I had swallowed every pill in the bottle.

My Mother laughed at me, then took a deep breath.

"What is it Mommy?"

"The real reason your Father took that job in Alaska on a 12 month contract was to make enough money for you to have surgery."

"Surgery? You mean I am really going to be a girl? Oh my god Mommy I love you so much!"

"And Daddy?"

"And Daddy too! I can't believe this is happening."

I started crying again, the tears running down my cheeks in a torrent, my makeup flowing with them.

"Oh honey I know this is emotional for you but you need to get yourself together. It's your birthday, and finally I have a daughter to spoil rotten. We're going to the mall and find you some clothes!"

"Oh my God, Mom! But what am I going to wear out?"

"Well I have some outfits that I think will fit and I hope you'll like. But first we should fix your make up. I thought I might need to give you some pointers but I can see you don't need any. You do know what's appropriate for a 'day look' right?"

"Oh course I do, Mother."

"And there's really one other thing that has to be done. Your eyebrows."

It was the one missing part, what I'd wanted to do since I was 13 but couldn't dare. Finally I was going to have the arched, tapered, pretty eyebrows every girl has.

"Will you help me, Mom?"

"Of course."

I sat down at the vanity again and in a few minutes, my Mother had transformed my eyebrows and I was smiling at my reflection. I re-did my eye make up, this time with just a little eyeliner and light mascara and some subtle, barely-there eye shadow. My Mother was watching me in the mirror and smiling.

"You look very pretty Melissa."

"Thank you. You know when I was younger and I'd watch you get ready to go out, I was watching everything you did with your makeup."

"Yes honey, I knew."

"And when you decided I didn't need a babysitter anymore, I'd put on your makeup while you were gone. I used to have nightmares that you'd come home early, or that there would be a fire and I'd run out of the house before I could wipe it all off."

I smiled at the thought that I'd never have to go out without makeup again.

My mother moved into her closet and began pulling out bags and hangers.

"I hope I got the right sizes. I bought some small panties and some B-cup bras. We just need to be sure which is the right size. I just got white ones, we'll get you other colors when we're out."

I slipped off my Mother's cast-off panties and threw them in the trash basket, then I pulled on the panties, which fit fine and felt wonderful. I tried the size 33B bra first and it fit perfectly. Now when I turned each way, my underwear fit as it should, and it really accented the curves that I had so carefully covered up over the past months. I'd never have to cover them up again.

"So what are my options Mommy?"

"I got you a pretty skirt & blouse as well as a dress. I think you may like the dress best."

As soon as I lifted the plastic over the hanger I knew she was right. The dress was an 'optical illusion' dress, royal blue in the body but with white along the sides. It was designed to make every curve look curvier. I stepped into the dress and pulled it up to my waist before slipping my arms into the sleeves. My Mother stood behind me as she pulled the zipper up. I watched in the mirror as the dress pulled tight against my body, the fit was perfect and the coloring made my body look so much more womanly. I beamed at my reflection.

"Pumps or wedges?" my Mother asked and I chose wedges, royal blue to match the dress.

"I know we need to pierce your ears but I did get you some clip on earrings."

She handed me some costume earrings, white, shaped like sea shells, and I slipped them onto my ears, frowning. I had pink toe nails but nothing on my finger nails.

"I should do my nails, shouldn't I?"

"Well I was thinking it would be easier to get you a Mani-pedi at my salon. That is, if you're willing to have your hair cut and styled."

"Oh Mom yes I would love to go to your salon."

"Good because we've got an appointment in about 15 minutes."

"Pick a handbag Melissa." And I did, a white one with a long gold chain. I put a dab of my Mother's perfume behind each ear and then smiled at her.

"Ready?"

"I think so."

We went downstairs together. My Mother complimented me on how I walked in heels. I told her it wasn't the first time I had worn them.

I stopped at the door to the garage and Mom looked at me.

"What if we run into one of the neighbors? What am I going to say? What will they say? How should I act?"

"Just be yourself. Do what comes naturally."

We got into the car and backed out of the garage. As she backed into the street I looked to the right and our neighbor, Tammy, who was working on her flower garden, was waving.

"Just go, Mom. Please."

But she kept her foot on the brake and lowered the passenger side window.

"Hi Tammy, how are you?"

"Hi Liz." Tammy bent at my window and looked at me.

"Who is this?"

"It's me, Tammy. Mel. But I prefer to be called Melissa." I looked pleadingly into her eyes and she looked warmly at me.

"Oh Melissa you look so pretty. Good for you. I always had a feeling about you. Enjoy your day, girls."

I was speechless but Mom said, "Oh I am sure we will. Talk to you later," as she pulled away.

I started to laugh, and then my throat caught and I felt like I was going to cry again.

"Now don't ruin your makeup again, Melissa."

"I won't ... it's just ... I don't know. I wasn't ready for that reaction." And I started to smile again. I was ready then, ready to go out and be the girl I was born to be.

"So do you know how you want your hair styled, Melissa?"

"I think so," I said and smiled at her.

We walked into my Mother's salon and my Mother introduced me around. The staff was surprised, to say the least, to learn that Liz Huntington had a daughter.

"Well, she hasn't been living with us. She was ... overseas, at boarding school. But she just graduated and she's home until she starts college. Who wants to take care of her? Dawn?"

Dawn spoke.

"It would be my pleasure Melissa. What did you have in mind?"

"I'd like to get a bob, Dawn." I waved my fingers just below my ears to emphasize how much I wanted her to cut off. After a pause, I turned toward my mother. Her mouth was hanging open.

"Got you!" I said as I laughed.

"You little stinker!" She replied. Then she spoke to Dawn.

"Melissa has wanted long hair since she was so young. I never thought ..." She laughed and said again, "You stinker!"

"Got you!" I repeated.

"Actually Dawn I thought I'd like this style." I pointed at one of the model's pictures on the wall.

Her hair was parted in the middle, with bangs framing her face to just below her jawline. The rest of her hair had wide, angled cuts at progressively longer lengths, creating a pretty, layered look.

"Oh Melissa that is going to look so pretty," my Mom said.

Dawn led me back to the shampoo station and when the shampoo girl was done, she led me to Dawn's chair, where I sat for my first feminine haircut. Dawn combed out my wet hair and began to carefully separate two or three inch wide swaths of hair and began to turn me into the beautiful model pictured on the wall. My Mom had sat down below the picture frame and she smiled at me, and I smiled back, and she mouthed the words "don't cry" and I subtly shook my head 'no'.

I picked pink polish for the beds, and white at the tips, and I felt so pampered and lucky, and when Dawn finished with the blow dryer, Mother came over and spoke.

"Oh Melissa it looks even prettier than I thought it would. Dawn you did a great job."

"It was my pleasure, Liz. You girls have a great day together, OK?"

Mom steered toward the mall and I asked if we could get bras and panties first and she said of course and parked by the entrance closest to Victoria's Secret.

I walked in, trying to keep my emotions in check. After all, buying such things is a normal occurrence for girls, why would anyone be that excited about it? Soon I had armfuls of beautiful bra and panty sets, and sexy sleepwear too, including a black baby doll nightie, and pink pajamas, designed for a girl - no hideous bulge or fly in front.

As we browsed together, I noticed a group of four girls moving thru the store in unison, chatting and giggling. They were my age, and it seemed like one, the prettiest, was the leader. They were watching me when my Mother held up a pair of boy panties, tightie whities re-designed for a girl. I wrinkled my nose and mouthed the word "gross" to her.

The Queen Bee spoke, loud enough for me to overhear her.

"God. I can't believe she's shopping with her Mother. Don't you come here with your girl friends?"

I stared at her.

"For your information, my Mom is my best friend."

The Queen Bee smiled, all false sincerity.

"I think that's really sweet."

Then she turned toward her friends, and in a stage whisper said, "Loser" and laughed.

"Bitch," I replied, but not in a stage whisper, and three other shoppers turned their heads as I walked back toward my Mom.

After she paid for my purchases, as we were walking out, my Mom whispered.

"I am so proud of you, Melissa."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, I've never seen you stand up for yourself like that. The old you would have just slinked away if someone picked on you like that."

"Well I just wasn't ... myself before."

We were strolling between shops when my Mother pulled my hand toward a shoe store, and pointed at one pair in the window. As I looked, I saw a reflection in the window. A young man, 19 or 20 years old, stopped behind us. I could tell he was staring at my butt. His eyes moved up my body until they met my own, just for an instant, before I glanced away and he continued walking. I whispered to my Mother.

"Yes, I know. I noticed him checking you out before and I wanted you to see what he looked like."

"Oh my God," I said.

"Melissa, you better get used to guys paying attention to you. You're a pretty girl in a public place. Guys have been known to stare at what catches their eye. Who knows, someone might even hit on you."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that, Mother."

We went from store to store, and Mom wouldn't deny me anything I wanted. Cute little shorts and cropped t-shirts, skirts and blouses, dresses and jeans, cosmetics and costume jewelry, and shoes, so many shoes. She said she was making up for years of shopping for the wrong clothes for the wrong gender.

After our third trip back to the car to drop off the bags, Mom said we should stop back at the food court. It was 3:00 and we hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

Mom asked me to get her a salad and a diet soda while she went to the ladies room. I was glad I didn't need to go. As I stood on line, I glanced behind me and realized the same boy who had been checking me out before was right behind me. He smiled, and I smiled back at him, half hoping that he would talk to me and half petrified that he would talk to me.

"So, where are your besties?"

I didn't know what to say and all I came up with was, "Hmm?"

"Your best friends. I thought all beautiful girls traveled in packs with their best friends."

"Oh, um ... no, I'm um ... I'm shopping with my Mom. She's using the restroom."

"I'm Bobby."

"Um ... Melissa. Did you really say I'm beautiful?"

"What, no one's ever told you that before? Listen Melissa, I'm having a graduation party next Saturday, you're welcome to drop by. What's your number?"

"No, um, I don't think I can make it ..."

The cashier saved me by calling out "next person in line?" and I tried to smile at Bobby before turning away. I had to cough a couple of times, my throat felt so dry and constricted, before I could give her our order.

I paid her, and it was then I realized someone else was next in line. Bobby had only gotten on line so he could talk to me and ask for my number and then he went back to his seat, rejoining his friends. He waved at me, and I smiled a tiny smile and began to look for my Mother. When I didn't find her I took a seat at an empty table, and in a few moments she joined me.

"Do you want some salad, Melissa?"

I ate a couple of forkfuls of her salad and then I spoke.

"Please don't make it look obvious but if you look over my right shoulder, do you see the same boy who was checking me out before?"

Mother glanced in Bobby's direction.

"Ooh he's really cute. You should go over there and say something."

"I already did. He was behind me while I was in line. He asked where my BFFs were, because beautiful girls only travel in packs."

"That's cute. What did you say?"

"I hardly remember. I was so nervous and flustered being spoken to by a hot guy. He asked me to his graduation party. I said no."

"You said 'no'?"

"Of course I said 'no'. I'm not ready to start dating. Not now. Not yet ... after Daddy comes home. After. Not now. I don't want to be in a position where my secret might get discovered. No way. I'll date after ..."

"Suit yourself. He's really cute though. Maybe you should give him your number, play a little hard to get, then 'after', you can call him back."

"What, just go up to him and say, 'I'm sorry I turned you down, but can you wait six months? You see, I'm on a six month daily hair washing regimen. But in six months, if you can wait that long, give me a call and maybe we can go do something.' What do you think, Mother?"

"I think we need to talk about boys, honey. That's what I think. And I think I might just go over there and help you out with this particular boy."

"No, Mother, please. Don't embarrass me. Just let me go at my pace, when I'm ready. I'm sure I'll meet another boy just as hot as Bobby."

"Boys like Bobby like confident girls, Melissa. You showed such confidence at the store with those bullies. Show me the same confidence with that boy. Just go and talk to him. Give him your number, or get his."

I took a breath, and started to psyche myself up. I can do this, I thought.

I stepped back from the table and turned and saw Bobby was watching me. I smiled shyly and started walking toward his table. Bobby and three other boys were all watching me, and I kept my eyes on the floor until I reached his chair.

"Real confident, Melissa," I thought as I walked, trying to think about what I should say. My mind was a blank but Bobby rescued me.

"Melissa, hello again. Is that your Mom? I can see where you get your good looks."

I smiled again. "Um, thanks, Bobby. It is my Mom and she was just telling me that our family plans were changing on Saturday night so, you know maybe I can stop by your party."

I handed him my cell phone.

"Can you put your number in? I'll call or text you if it looks like I can go."

"Great," Bobby said as he took my phone, his pale blue eyes looking intently up at me. I smiled again, and looked down at the floor.

"Here you go, I think I might have accidentally auto-dialed somebody, sorry about that," Bobby said as he handed back my phone. His phone started to ring as I pressed the end call button. He also pressed a button and his phone fell silent.

"OK, so, um, I'll let you know if I can go."

"I hope you can, Melissa. It's gonna be a blast. No parents, plenty of booze."

I turned away then, and I met my Mother's eyes and my eyes grew large, a look of "Oh my God I can't believe I just did that." Mom smiled. As I walked toward her, I heard Bobby's friends.

"She's cute, man," said one.

"A little small up top," said another.

"Hey man, more than a mouthful is a waste."

"Yeah whoever said that never dated a girl with big tits."

And the others laughed, except for Bobby. I heard him tell his friends to cut it out before their voices faded amidst the din of the food court.

"Way to go Melissa!" said Mom when I reached the table. "We got you everything a girl needs, even a boyfriend. I told you this mall was the best."

"Very funny, Mother. He's not my boyfriend. I'm not going to call him. I am not going to date anyone until after my surgery."

"Well I'm still very proud of you just for going up to him and talking to him."

When we got home, Mom and I took several large garbage bags and filled them with all of my old clothes. Mom told me we'd do some more shopping soon.

"That's great but what about when I outgrow all of these new outfits? I mean, we up my hormone dose, my development is going to be faster and I'll get hips, bigger booty and bigger breasts. You shouldn't spend too much money on things I can only wear for a little while."

"You let me worry about that Melissa. We can always donate whatever you outgrow."

"Whatever you say. Can we go to the bedding department next time? I'd really like to change the sheets and comforter on my bed. Something pink, or flowery. It's like the last reminder of how I was raised."

"Of course, honey. We can go after dinner. Wait a sec - we don't have any reservations, do we?"

"No, like we've had a chance to? But I'm glad I didn't. This has been such an amazing day Mom can we just stay in, order pizza or something? I think I want to do that, and try on my new outfits."

"Whatever you say Melissa, it's your day. But I do want to sit down with you and talk about boys. You're becoming a woman and I think you need to hear about some things. Things my own Mom never told me."

I didn't think I would, but after talking to Bobby, now I wanted to hear what my Mom had to say. We went downstairs and sat together on the couch.

"So, you wanted to talk about the birds and the bees, Mom? It's not like I am going to ever have my period, so I don't need to hear about that, or about birth control."

"No, dear, but it won't be long before you have a vagina, and the care of a vagina isn't nearly as much fun as it's feeding."

"Mother!" I couldn't believe she said such a thing.

"Boys have penises."

"Um, yeah Mom I knew that. Or have you forgotten?"

"I was going to say, boys have penises. And they usually think with them. You've heard of the phrase, 'think with your big head, not your little one"?

"Yes. I've also seen graffiti in the boy's room, "Don't look now but you've got your best friend by the neck."

"Well that's very true. His cock is his best friend. And you should be his best friend's best friend. Find the right man, and be his whore. Have you heard the joke about how a girlfriend is like a condom, because she spends more time in his wallet then on his dick? Don't be that girlfriend, Melissa. Spend more time on his dick then in his wallet."

"You want me to be a slut? Just give it away to whoever?"

"No honey. Not a slut. Find a man who gives you orgasms that rock your world, and be his whore. You'll be so glad you did. I know I was when I met your Father."

"OMG, Mom! TMI. TMI, Mother, too much information!"

"Sorry dear but it's true. And I want you to be happy. For a man - for a real man's man, sex isn't just about his pleasure and yours. It's about the ego stroke of making a girl scream at the end of his cock. And you want a real man, a self-confident man like Bobby who sees what he likes and goes right for it, right? I want you to look at this."

She opened her laptop, and then opened a folder, and double clicked on a file. It was a GIF, a continuous loop, of a huge penis, standing alone, ejaculating.

My mouth fell open and my hand came up and covered it and I looked down, blushing.

"Look at it, Melissa. That is your birthright. It's every woman's birthright, a beautiful hard cock that gives her so much pleasure. Did you see how Bobby looked in his jeans? I think he has a cock almost as big as that one. Nine inches, at least."

"Mother, that's enough. I can't believe you're talking about Bobby like that. You're my Mom, for God's sake."

"I heard you say I'm also your best friend. Let me be your best friend and help you."

"Can you just close the screen, please?"

"Can't take your eyes off of it, can you? I know, it's a nice cock isn't it? It's a magnet for your eyes and catnip for your body and soul. "

I didn't answer but just reached out and closed the laptop myself.

"You're 18 years old Melissa, you've had this terrible problem growing up. But you must have thought about boys. At your age all I ever thought about was boys. You're lucky in a way, you could go in the boy's locker room, see your classmate's dicks. I had to steal my sister's Playgirls."

"Believe me, Mom, I learned a long time ago to keep my eyes straight ahead, or on the floor whenever I was in the locker room. I was always afraid someone would notice."

"Oh, so you did sneak peeks?"

I blushed again. "Yeah."

"Of course you did. I would have too."

She opened up the laptop again and started to type a URL. The browser auto-filled it and I saw 'annamalicesissyselfhypnosis' while the page loaded. A video started to auto-play - "Blowjob Rules for Sissies" it said.

"I'm not a sissy, Mother. Gay boys are sissies. I'm a girl."

"I know honey. I'm not one either. But this video has something to teach all women. Where it says 'Sissy', just think 'girl'."

The 'rules' started to appear, each one accompanied by illustrations - video and still photography.

"Anytime, anywhere" was the first. Girls should give their boyfriends head whenever and wherever they want it. There were scenes of girls under restaurant tables, and in bathroom stalls, in moving cars and in darkened alleys.

"Smile while you work" was another. Large erections and girls on their knees with big smiles were shown.

"Eye contact is a must" came next.

"Let him know how much you love his cock" was the fourth, and out of the speakers came soft girlish moans interspersed with dirty talk.

"Use your hands ... " appeared, and pretty hands tugged and stroked as they licked and sucked.

"... Unless he doesn't want you to use your hands" and arms were held above heads by strong men, and the women opened their mouths and moaned louder.

"Make love to his cock with your mouth" was next, and I stared as happy girls gave sensuous licks and kisses and long strokes up and down, smiling, giggling and moaning.

"Always let him finish in your mouth and on your face" scrolled across the screen, as one girl after another had her face and lips covered with ejaculate. Each one smiled and swallowed all she received.

The last rule appeared, "Play with his cum and be sure to clean him up" and the screen filled with images of girls, their faces glistening, gently licking and sucking and cleaning up their man's penis, squeezing out last drops, smiling and kissing his manhood.

When it was over, we were silent, until my Mom spoke. The video was on auto play and started again. This time I didn't try to shut the laptop screen.

"Is it really that much fun, Mother? I think a girl must feel really sexy when she does that."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that, Melissa. You see there are three types of women in the world. Well, four but the last one is pretty rare. The first are the ones who refuse to give head. We call these women frigid, repressed, or gay. And seriously deprived. And in all likelihood, very lonely.

"The second type give head, but not happily. They'll do it, but only as a reward for their man, or to get him hard so he can fuck her. Their blowjobs are actually practically hand-jobs. They go suck-suck, strokestroke -stroke-stroke-stroke. I imagine if they find a man who doesn't love to receive head, they can be happy together in their mutual deprivation."

The performers on the video were moaning loudly now as Mom continued.

"The third kind are girls like these, who are really getting off on the cock in their mouth. And do you know why, Melissa?"

She didn't wait for me to answer.

"Because when a girl like this has a cock inside her, it makes her feel soooo good. It doesn't matter where it is, only that it's inside her."

"What do you think is the best position?"

"Whatever position aligns his cock and your mouth."

"I'm serious, Mom. I think it's on your knees."

"Good answer. It's how me and your father like it."

"Mom, can we have this talk without bringing Daddy into it?"

I paused and then spoke again.

"Actually it makes me wonder. If I had been happy as a boy, what do you think Daddy would have said, if he was giving me this talk?"

Mother stood up, scratched between her legs, and said, "When a broad bends over, shove it in her ass! She can't get pregnant that way!" and she laughed. I wrinkled my nose.

"Don't knock it until you've tried it, Melissa."

"Ewww, mother! You mean you let Daddy put it in your butt?"

"I thought you didn't want to hear about your Father?" She didn't pause. "That's what I mean by being his whore, honey. And who knows, you may find you like it in your ass, too."

"I doubt it, Mother. P in V. That's the kind of girl I will be."

The video was coming to the end again, and I reached for the laptop. But I wasn't going to close it.

"Can I show you the kind of videos I like, Mother?"

"Oh, so you have seen porn before."

I didn't answer. I navigated to a porn search engine and typed in "X-Art" and clicked on the thumbnail video I recognized.

"I like these kinds of videos. They're soft and pretty and sensuous and have a lot of foreplay. They aren't as nasty as the ones you like."

We sat in silence as the scene unfolded. When the girl began to move down her man's torso and slipped off his boxers, I spoke.

"What is the fourth type of girl, Mother? You said there were four."

"The fourth type of girl, Melissa, can have an orgasm while sucking her man's cock.

"Without touching herself. Even without actually sucking his cock."

"Really?"

"The mind is an incredibly powerful sex organ, Melissa. Just last weekend I was talking to your Father ..."

"Mother! Please!"

"Oh grow up, Melissa. Your mother and father have sex. We used to have a lot of sex but then he went away, to help you. How about a little credit to me for going without for six months, and another six months to go. All for you, dear."

"Oh sorry, Mom," I said sarcastically. "I never knew how much Dad and his wonder cock meant to you."

"How did you know his pet name?" she asked, laughing.

"I hope you're being facetious," I replied.

Now the girl was kneeling on the bed, between his legs. Her hands were going in a twisting motion up and down the shaft. I spoke.

"Do boys like it that way, Mom?"

"Sounds like you're about to impart some inside information, Melissa."

"Well, I guess. You know though I've had a hate-hate relationship with this thing, right? It was only after my breasts began to develop that I started looking for videos like this one. It's easier to put yourself in the scene when you can caress your own breasts. It's not the same though."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because when a girl strokes her man, her hand goes away from her. Mine always comes down on myself. Anyway ... I think boys only stroke up and down. It feels best."

"OK, good tip. Thanks. And I thought I'd be the one giving advice."

The video continued, and soon the girl was having an orgasm, a powerful one, thrashing on the bed.

"Usually this is where I'd orgasm too. When the girl cums, that's when I would."

"Yup, you're a girl, Melissa."

"Speaking of orgasms, what about the way he finishes?"

"What about it?"

"I was reading an article on the website Jezebel. It said that modern porn treats women like dogs. That men cumming on girl's faces is degrading."

"Degrading how, Melissa? What did this feminist say about the practice?"

"She said it was like a male dog marking his territory when he pees. That the girl is being marked as a man's plaything."

"Well they got it right but they reached the wrong conclusion."

"What do you mean?"

"Well honey, yes the man is marking his territory when he sprays his cum all over his woman. But it's not degrading. If you love him, and love his cock, you should want to have your body marked by his cum."

Then she laughed.

"I just thought - what if guys had the same sense of smell as dogs do? We'd probably have less cheating going on, if guys knew which girls belonged to another man."

"Yeah," I agreed.

The man had climaxed, and the girl told him it tasted sweet.

"Does it really taste good, Mom?"

"That's a 'buying question'."

"Buying question?" I asked.

"Don't you remember that movie we watched a few weeks ago? About the stock brokers, with Ben Affleck doing a bad impersonation of Alec Baldwin? He said a question like "what's the name of the firm" is a buying question. The guy who asks that question is going down, he's bought what they're selling. And a girl asking the question you just asked is thinking about going down ... maybe on Bobby's cock?"

I sighed, exasperated. I didn't tell her I had been thinking about him while we watched the video.

"So? What does it taste like, mother?"

"Like the nectar of the gods, Melissa. I promise you'll love it."

Mother reached for the keyboard and typed in another search.

"Google Glass videos?" I asked. "You mean that eyeglass thing with the computer embedded? They've made porn from the woman's perspective?"

"Yup."

She launched the first video, and a tanned, thickly muscled male torso filled the screen. A girl's arms were down below, her hands at his waist. Then the screen was filled with his shaved chest. She was kissing and licking and exploring his pecs and his nipples, the camera coming in tight as she stimulated his nipples and kissed his chest, then moving back when she caressed him and lifted her head for some deep kissing.

Then her head turned, and he must have been kissing her neck and ear, as his lean body stretched out alongside hers, his erect cock pointing straight up, her fingers reaching, grasping the base, drawing her fingernails up the shaft before she began to stroke him.

"Is that the perspective you've been wanting, Melissa?"

"Yeah," I sighed, my eyes locked on the screen.

"Melissa, I'm going to make a suggestion. There are men. Men that can be hired ..."

"Mom, I told you I don't want to be with someone until I'm completely female. And I don't want it in my butt."

"I know honey and I get that. It's just that, boys your age, most girls have been giving them what they want for at least a few years. The girls have experience. And those girls are your competition. Don't you want a little experience first?"

The Google Glass camera moved up and down the shaft, which filled 80% of the screen. His chest stretched away from the shaft, and his eyes were staring thru the screen at me. Then the video changed and the camera began to move forward and back, forward and back, nothing but the bare skin of his lower abdomen going into and out of focus, the screen going nearly dark as the device practically touched his skin. I sighed, just as male and female moans came out of the speakers.

"But what about my penis, Mom? No gaffe or tape will hide it if I become aroused."

"I have that covered, Melissa. Watch your video, I'll be right back."

I heard Mom come down the stairs a few minutes later but I didn't look at her. My eyes were watching the screen, as the man rose above her and moved forward. His erection was swinging below him, pointing at her, pointing at me, moving toward her pussy until their flesh came together and she groaned loudly as he penetrated her smoothly and began to fuck her rhythmically.

"Oh my God your cock is so fucking big." I was mouthing the words as the woman said them.

Mom moved directly into my line of site, behind the laptop. My eyes stayed on the screen until she spoke.

"Meet The Transformer, Melissa."

I looked at her. She held up something that looked like a girdle, but one that had been rubberized and was flesh-toned.

"'The Transformer'? I asked.

"Designed specially for girls like you, Melissa, who have something to, um, hide? See, you wear it down low, and it starts with your natural booty, and expands it outward and moves it lower. It gives you a more womanly figure. Your penis goes inside, hidden away, and by moving your crotch down, it makes your legs look shorter, in order to create space for the life-like pussy between your legs."

She held the bottom out, so I could see the crotch.

"But no guy is going to be fooled by that," I said.

Mom replied, "No, honey, they aren't. But these are men for hire. They've seen everything. He won't bat an eye. And if he does, we'll kick him out and get you another."

"I don't know, Mom."

"You know your Dad, right before I finally convinced him to get the drugs to postpone your puberty, he said, "If he doesn't have a girl friend when he's 18, I'm going to get him a hooker." We can still do that, honey."

I looked back at the screen, the woman's moans growing louder and louder as the man's cock fucked her relentlessly, without pause, a blur between her legs. She began to orgasm then, thrashing below him until he pulled out, and with one stroke, then another, his cum started spurting, huge white streaks hurtling at the camera, at the woman, at me.

"OK. I'll do it. Call the service, Mom. I want some experience. I want to be ready, when I begin to date."

When Mom got off the phone, she said my date would be here at 8 PM, and that she had selected someone with dark hair and blue eyes, just like Bobby. It was 5:30 and I told her that we need to order the pizza so we can eat and I can have time to get ready. She agreed, and by 6:30 she was back, and I had quickly devoured two slices, so I could go upstairs and start to get ready.

I took a slow relaxing bath, and carefully shaved my legs and underarms. Then I returned to my Mother's vanity, where this crazy whirlwind of a birthday had started, only this time my Mother was standing by my side as I applied my own makeup.

I looked up at my Mother's face in the mirror. She was smiling when I had finished.

"What?"

"I'm going to have to ask you for pointers, Melissa. Your eye makeup looks beautiful. And perfect for a romantic evening with Mr. Right."

"Or Mr. Right-Now" I corrected, and we both laughed.

Mom picked up The Transformer off the bed, and handed it to me. I stepped into the legs and began to pull it up.

"See the groove in the center, honey? Hold yourself up so it stays in place while I pull it up over your hips and butt."

I did as she said, and it wasn't long before it was on. But I frowned.

"What about this extra at the top? This looks ridiculous, Mom."

"They told me that this happens. You just cut away the part that bunches up at the top and it will look fine."

Mom got out a small pair of scissors and soon the excess was gone and the top of the device stretched taut and flat against my skin.

I stepped in front of the mirror, and grinned.

"So this is how I will look after surgery."

"Well something like that, Melissa. Your legs will be just as long after, though. You should move around, I'm sure that like tight jeans it will loosen up a bit. And they said that your body heat will make it warm up so it will feel even more like normal flesh."

I began to move, to bend and stretch, and it didn't feel confining, it felt like a second skin. Finally I lay down on the bed and asked my Mother to hand me her hand mirror.

"I want to see what it looks like."

I lay on the bed, with my knees up, and looked down my body, my small pert breasts flattened slightly against my chest, my flat tummy, down to The Transformer, which had a closely trimmed mound of pubic hair at the top. I reached forward to hold the mirror between my legs. My other hand reached down and touched the bare skin, and then the rubberized labia and folds of skin. It was soft and pliant and like Mom said, it felt warm to the touch.

"What do you think?" Mom asked.

"Can I wear this all the time?" I laughed, and then I stopped, and my brow furrowed.

"But what am I going to wear now? I don't think my panties will fit over this bigger butt its given me."

"You can try mine. Why don't you try that black baby doll nightie we bought, and I've got black panties to match."

I went into my bedroom, and slipped the nightie over my head. It felt so soft and sexy against my skin. Back in Mom's room, she handed me her panties and she was right. They slid right over my new hips and butt.

"You look beautiful, Melissa. I can't believe my daughter, who until today I had to treat as my son, is so pretty and sexy and smiling and happy and .... horny? Are you ready to give yourself to a man?"

"I don't know, Mom. I feel ... nervous. And ... vulnerable? I feel like, very soon, I am going to lose control. Not lose control in a crazy sexy horny way but lose control because a man is going to take it. Take control. And that's exciting but scary too."

"Oh honey, I know exactly what you mean. Promise me you'll find a man who always gives you that feeling. The kind of man who doesn't ask if you want to do it doggie-style but the kind who turns you around, puts his hand on the back of your head until your head is down and your ass is up and then he starts fucking you again until you start screaming at the end of his cock and your pussy is spasming around it but it's not enough, it's never enough for a man like that, and he pulls out and turns you over and shoves his cock back inside and your eyes roll up into your head and then you hardly notice it but his arms go under your knees and your arms are around his neck and suddenly you're suspended on his cock and it's like you're in a sex swing only it's his muscles holding you in the air swinging your hips back and forth while his cock plows in and out and then finally, when he's finally finished, and the orgasm count is like, five for you and still none for him, he doesn't ask if he can spray his cum all over your face, he lays you down, and finally gives up his sweet nectar, all over you, marking you for life as his woman. No one else. His."

"Wow," I said. "Do you really think this guy can do all that?"

"Only one way to find out," she said.

It was 7:55. My date was due at any moment. We went downstairs together and sat on the couch, waiting silently until finally a few minutes after 8, the doorbell rang. Mom got up and answered the door.

"Melissa? I'm Stephen St. Croix."

"Hi Stephen, I'm not Melissa, I'm Liz, her Mom. Please come in. Melissa ...?"

I got up from the couch and turned toward the door, where I saw a young man, perhaps 25 or so. He had skin the color of very light coffee, and he had straight black hair and pale blue eyes. He was gorgeous! He wore a sport shirt and khaki chinos. I could see how muscular his physique was and I smiled at him.

"Hi Melissa." His voice carried a lilting trace of what must have been some Caribbean island heritage. It was very mellifluous and sexy.

"It's nice to meet you, Stephen." He took my hand gently and raised it to his lips, making me smile again.

"I have to say, Melissa, I don't usually get out-calls from such a young, pretty girl as you. I assumed Liz was the one who needed my services. You know, lonely single Mom. Why would a pretty young girl like you need an escort?"

"Well since you asked, Stephen, it's Melissa's 18th birthday and ..."

"I've had some long-term medical issues that had to be resolved and I wanted ..."

"She wanted to have a memorable experience on her 18th birthday. Think you can handle that, Stephen?"

"Absolutely, Liz. I'll make sure Melissa is fully satisfied. Now is this a 2 for 1 deal? Will you join us, maybe give Melissa some pointers?"

"No Stephen this is just for Melissa." Her hand was on Stephen's lower back and she pushed him gently into the living room. "I may watch though."

"You want to watch Mother?"

"Just to give any suggestions, Melissa. I promise I won't be too disruptive."

"Can't we use your bedroom?"

"No, there's plenty of room on the couch. I'll just go up to the landing, you won't even see me."

Mother dimmed the living room lights - "Not too much, Mother," I had to caution. Then she turned the stereo on and soft midnight saxophone started emanating from the speakers, a pretty, sexy sound.

"Would you like to dance, Melissa?"

I held out my hand, and Stephen took it, pulling me toward him, until my hand was on his chest, and his palm covered it. We swayed slowly, together, his right hand holding me around the waist. I felt so secure and happy, held tightly by this sexy man. Suddenly, he shifted his weight forward, and I felt my back arch backward against his strong hand, until he pulled me back upright and I came face to face with his pretty blue eyes.

"You're very beautiful, Melissa, and I'm honored that you are allowing me to be your first."

I leaned forward then, wanting to kiss him, his lips moving toward mine, when I suddenly thought, how does a girl kiss a boy? His lips met mine, and I knew instantly. I kissed him playfully, teasingly, my lips grazing his, taking a tiny bit of their fleshy fullness and pulling my own past them, then meeting them again, my lips parted this time, his tongue slipping out to enter my mouth, my own tongue dueling with his. My hands were in his hair, running my fingers thru them, as our lips and tongues blended together.

His hands rose toward my shoulders, pulling the robe as my own hands were untying it. The robe slipped to the floor and I leaned into him again, as his hands reached down and cupped by butt cheeks. I could barely feel them thru the rubber, and I froze, wondering what he was thinking.

But Mom was right, and whatever he felt or suspected or knew, he kept massaging my ass as he whispered into my ear.

"Very nice, Melissa."

I pressed my lips into his now, and started pawing at the bottom of his shirt, lifting it, pushing it upward until his hands came up and pulled it over his head. His broad chest was bare in front of me and I began to explore it, kissing down from his neck, squeezing his chest muscles as I kissed his lips again, then I began to kiss steadily down his torso, until I was squatting at his waist, undoing his belt.

His hand cupped my face, and I turned and kissed his palm. Then he slipped his thumb inside my mouth, and I held it softly, my lips sliding forward and back, until I had unbuttoned his pants and pulled his trousers down to the floor.

He slipped his thumb out of my mouth and I looked at the growing bulge in his white boxers, then up into his eyes. He was smiling and I smiled back, then planted a soft kiss at the head of his penis and down below, one on each testicle. There were three ruby red splotches on his boxers when I pulled them down, and his cock was freed.

Shaved smooth and circumcised, his cock was beautiful. It wasn't crazy huge like like the ones we watched earlier, and I was thankful, because I didn't know if The Transformer would handle something too big. It was perfect, and I started at the tip, kissing and playfully licking my way up to the base, where I kissed him just to the right of the shaft, then I dipped below to envelop his balls with the flat part of my tongue, swishing around each of them. I kept my eyes on his throughout, as I realized I had in fact been right about the best position.

I licked my way back to the head, then slipped his full flaccid length inside. The texture was soft and spongy, but as I sucked sweetly along the length it wasn't long before I felt his cock get thicker and harder, until I released him, looked up into his eyes, then stared in awe at his erect penis for one long moment.

Then I gripped the base and held it steady, and opened my mouth and slipped the head inside, sliding my lips an inch or two down the shaft. Now there was weight to it, and warmth, and the taste was heavenly. It filled my senses and made me feel that I was a part of this man, his penis inside me, so intimately connected to him.

I slipped him out of my mouth, and began to stroke him, spreading the saliva down the shaft. I smiled at him, bouncing on my knees, so pleased with myself.

"Your cock is very nice, Stephen. It tastes delicious."

"You are so sexy, Melissa," he replied, and I smiled before I lovingly welcomed him back inside my mouth. I began to suck urgently at the satiny smoothness of the head, then moved further down the shaft, a different kind of textured smoothness, so hard against my soft lips. When I parted my lips and fluttered my tongue against the bottom of the shaft he moaned loudly, and I did too, a sweet sexy purr of contentment.

I released him again, this time so that I could lift the shaft out of the way, and stroke him with both hands while I licked and cradled his balls again. He groaned louder at this, and when I slipped the head back inside my mouth, his hand cupped my head again, and pulled me forward and I loved it, the way he took charge of me, and I tried to take more of him and he was moaning again and then his moan was something different, and I slipped him out of my mouth.

Saliva stretched from the head to my lower lip, and I pulled at it until it separated and I could stretch it down the shaft and stroke him again.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, it's just ... um ... just watch the teeth."

"Lips together, teeth apart, Melissa," I heard my Mother's voice say from the landing. I'd forgotten she was there.

"Oh!" I cried, and my hand came up to my mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I kissed the head and told it I was sorry. I apologized to each of his balls in turn, then peppered the shaft with kisses and more apologies.

"Can I try again?" I asked and Stephen nodded.

"I have to remind myself that this is your first time. Your mouth feels really good."

I smiled at him and tenderly took him back inside my mouth, making sure my teeth were as wide apart as possible. I took more and more of him, slowly and steadily and our moans filled the room. I felt him against the back of my throat, and spontaneously it must have opened because suddenly my lips were nestled at the bottom of his shaft, and his moan turned into a drawn out groan of pleasure.

My lips slid back up the shaft and released him and my Mother spoke again.

"Are you sure you've never done this before Melissa?"

"No," I said. "I'm not even sure how I did that."

I engulfed him again, slowly, steadily sinking further down the shaft, but this time I gagged, and I released him, coughing.

Stephen beamed at me and said "I don't think I can take much more of that." And he reached down and slipped his arms around my shoulders and under my knees, lifting me up effortlessly into the air, so strongly that I actually lifted out of his arms, then fell back into them. He walked me toward the couch and I kissed him passionately, before he lay me gently on the cushions. His hands lifted my nightie over my head, and when his hands reached for my panties, I put my own hands over his and stopped him.

"There's something I should tell you, Stephen."

"There's nothing you need to say. Everything is fine, and I'm going to make love to you."

My hands were around his cheeks as he spoke, and I trusted him and believed him and after I pressed my lips against his, I lay back down as he pulled the panties off of me.

He moved forward then, hovering over me, and I reached for him, until our lips met, melted together, reformed and melted together again. He broke off our kiss and moved to my neck, and around my ears and down to my shoulders and chest, until I felt his strong tongue flicking against my left nipple, while his thumb and forefinger stimulated the other one. I moaned softly and he looked up at me, kissing me again before enveloping each breast in his mouth, sucking and kissing and flicking his tongue against the soft flesh.

Finally his lips and tongue drifted lower, and lower until I saw him kiss just above the ridge of my pubic hair. Then he moved to the side, kissing down my thighs before working back up the inner thigh. When he reached my labia, his eyes locked onto mine, betraying nothing, and then my eyes closed and I gave in to the moment, and began to imagine that I had a real vagina and that he was tenderly exploring it's folds and crevices, its secrets and its secretions. And even though I felt nothing, I began to grind against him, and I raised my head to watch him, one hand's fingers running thru his hair, the other entwined with his, squeezing strongly against him.

My head sank back into the couch, and a long moan escaped my lips. That was when it happened.

It started with a fluttering, a strange and foreign sensation starting below my tummy, a tremble that turned into a vibration and suddenly my moans were rising into cries and it was like a wave had crashed over me, a release so powerful it shook me to my core.

Did I have an orgasm inside The Transformer? It felt like nothing I'd experienced as a boy, and the rubber was so taut against me I couldn't imagine how I could feel any stimulation. No, this was different.

I opened my eyes and saw Stephen, his head hovering between my legs, and I watched him go forward, and somehow, somehow I felt - I felt him take one final long lick and I felt it, felt the tip of his tongue against me, and it made no sense, and I rose up from the waist, and my hands went around his cheeks, and his cheeks, his cheeks were wet and I looked into his eyes uncomprehendingly and I kissed him and his lips tasted different and my mind was going in circles and then ...

And then I felt his cock pressing into me, and I felt my pussy open to him, and his cock pushed inside me, I felt the thick hardness inside me, every beautiful, perfect, powerful inch of his cock. I screamed.

"Oh my God your cock is so fucking big!"

And then he started to move in and out of me, and it felt so good, so fucking good, and I was rocking into his thrusts, and then he rose above me and drove himself into me and I stared as I watched his cock take over my body and soon I was screaming again, bucking wildly against him, an even bigger climax scrambling my mind and vision.

He was stretched out alongside me on the couch when I caught my breath, his magnificent cock still rising straight up, and I slipped him back into my mouth to suck him. His cock had a new taste, a mixture of male and female. I felt his hand on the back of my head and I surrendered to his desire as he pulled down and thrust up, holding still as he fucked my mouth.

When his hand fell to his side, I straddled him, glancing up at the landing as I did. My mother's arms were crossed over her chest, and one hand covered her mouth, which hung open. Then his cock slid back inside me, and my eyes shut tight again.

We alternated, first I leaned forward to give him room to pound himself in and out of me, then he lay still and I bounced up and down his shaft, my pace quick. Then I sank to the bottom, and rocked back and forth, stimulating my clit as his cock was buried to the brim.

Finally he lifted my ankle and I slipped off of him, keeping my position on the couch so he could move behind me and fuck me from the rear. But he didn't. He pressed inside of me and paused, and I began to move my ass back until his cock was buried deep inside of me then moved forward and back, forward and back so urgently that he slipped out of me. He held his erection against my soft flesh until I backed onto it and began again to fuck him, moving carefully until I found the perfect correlation of distance and length, taking his cock from the tip to the root over and over again until he moaned loudly and one hand went to the back of my head, pressing it down, as other came down with a loud wallop on my ass.

I stopped then, and turned my head into the cushion and smiled as he took control, fucking me at a pace and depth of his choosing, and when his finger pressed into my asshole, my last thought before another orgasm coursed thru me was that yes, I would find the right man and I would let him take my ass, because he should have me, any time, any where and any way he desires, because I would be his whore.

Those thoughts slipped away as Stephen kept going, mercilessly pounding in and out of me, relentlessly, insatiably. In a blur, I was on my back again, and he was back inside, my senses alive to nothing but his cock, his sweet precious cock. My hands fell against his thighs, and he held my wrists, crossing my arms over my tummy so that he could hold them down with one hand, totally controlling me, having absolute dominion over me.

I started to speak then, a whisper first, then rising to a shout.

"Please cum in my face," I kept repeating. "I want to taste your sweet cum."

Stephen thrust one last time inside me, then pulled out and leaned forward, and his cock started spraying a fountain of cum, long white streaks marking me from my lips and cheeks to my shoulders and down to my tummy. I slipped what had fallen on my face in to my mouth, and, delighting at the flavor, ran a finger thru the long streaks on my chest so I could taste more of his nectar. Then I remembered to take his precious cock into my mouth again, to clean it and play with it and to thank it.

Finally we both sank into the couch, which was wet from a combination of bodily fluids.

"What happened?" I sputtered.

My Mother spoke first.

"She told me what would happen and I didn't really believe her and then I watched and ..."

Stephen's island accent thickened.

"If she really s'posed to be a girl, the first ti' she com' as a woman, she become a woman."

My hands reached down and I touched myself. I was restored. I was a girl, a real girl. And now, a woman.

My Mother spoke again. "I didn't tell you where I got that thing, Melissa. I went back to the psychic, the one who told me that I would have a girl child but that there would be complications. She told me that if you wore it and you had an orgasm even though you couldn't feel anything, it was proof that you were meant to be a girl, and you would become one."

Then Stephen spoke.

"I've watched it happen so many times, Melissa, but I've never seen it happen like it did with you. You're going to make some lucky guy very, very happy some day."

"So you ... the psychic is your Mom, and she just sends you out to service girls who were raised as boys. To fix things. Oh my gosh. That's why you knew all along."

My mother had come back down the stairs and she noticed it first.

"Oh my gosh Melissa I think you're spotting."

I moved aside and saw a few bright red spots on the white cushions.

"You mean?"

"Yup. We're going to have to have that mother-daughter talk about the care of a vagina, too."

My eyes teared up as my phone which I had left on the kitchen table started buzzing, from a text message. It was from Bobby, asking if I was going to come to his party. I realized that instead of putting his number into my phone, he had called his own phone so he'd have my number. I texted him back, asking for his address. Then I came back to the couch.

"You don't mind a little blood, do you?"

Stephen shook his head, and I pulled on his hand. He rose from the couch, and once again lifted me by my shoulders and knees as I laughed and kissed his neck.

"Mother, we're going up to my bedroom. Good night!"

POST SCRIPT

Bobby's moans filled my ears, and when I sensed he was close, I slid my lips all the way down the shaft, gave the base two soft licks, and immediately his cock began to jerk and twitch as cum pulsed out of it. We moaned loudly together, as I heard the sharp crack of his knuckles striking the roof of his car, as his back arched in the seat.

I held him in my mouth as his cock slowly softened. Even when flaccid it overflowed from my mouth. I don't know how my Mother could tell, but it had turned out that Bobby did have a huge cock, nine inches easily. It was six months since I first laid eyes on it.

When I finally let him go, I slipped the shaft back into his fly. Just as he liked it, there wasn't even a hint of moisture on the material of his jeans. My panties, however, were soaked.

Bobby looked at the clock and cursed. "Oh shit, your Dad's plane must be on the ground by now."

We locked up the car and went back into the terminal, my hand reaching for Bobby's and playfully swinging it as we walked toward the baggage claim area. He pulled my hand down, and pulled me tight into him and kissed me. I kissed him briefly, and then pulled away.

"I have to use the ladies room." I said as I stepped away from him.

"I can't believe I am seeing my father for the first time in a year, and I am going commando." I whispered when I returned.

"And I still can't believe how you can get off just from sucking my cock and never touch yourself." He whispered back.

"I can't help it if your cock does that to me, babe."

"Never seen it before."

"Well I am not the only one. I know for a fact that a member of the wedding party, same thing."

"Wait - what? Who?"

"I'll never tell," I said teasingly.

"Well then I'll have to do some investigating. Is it that really hot bridesmaid Jenny?"

I stopped and pulled him close and kissed him and told him he'd do no such thing. He laughed, and then he turned serious.

"I'm still a little nervous meeting your Dad. I'm sure he didn't expect to spend a year in the Alaskan wilderness and come home to find out his daughter is planning her wedding."

"Well a lot of things can change in a year's time, Bobby. A lot of things."

"Yeah, like the way your figure has filled out. You really are a late bloomer, Melissa. I do kind of miss that optical illusion dress you used to wear."

I gave him a little hip sway and asked, "you think I need an optical illusion dress? Melissa's got it goin' on!" punctuated with a sassy finger snap.

"She certainly does," Bobby said as he leaned forward to kiss me again, but my eyes had traveled down toward the escalators and I exclaimed, "Oh my God, there he is. I can't believe how skinny he is!"

I broke free from Bobby and ran toward my father, waving. When I reached him, I jumped toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my hips around his waist. My father held me for a moment before setting me down again.

"Hi Daddy, I missed you so much."

"I've missed you too Melissa."

Bobby came up behind me and held out his hand.

"Mr. Huntington, I'm Bobby Wheeler. It's a pleasure to meet you sir."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Bobby. I've heard a lot about you. You going to make my daughter happy for the rest of her life?"

"I'll try my best, sir. She's an amazing girl."

I looked up at my Father as he spoke, his eyes turned toward me. They were sweet and soft.

"She sure is," he said. "She sure is."

I kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear.

"I love you, Daddy."