Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Calypso
Title: The Transformation of Evelyn Thomas
Part: Chapter 7
Summary: The erotic journey of a young man through transgender
transformation to a new female self.
Keywords: MF, MMF, TG, cons, reluc, oral, anal, rom, 1st

   Send me your comments at calypso93<at>gmail<dot>com

   CHAPTER 7

   Day Thirty

   I opened my eyes from a deep, sound sleep and realized that light was
leaking in around the curtains into the room and that I was being "spooned"
from behind.  An arm was draped over my hip and trailed down limp in front
of my thighs, which were drawn up a bit in a moderate fetal position.  My
hair was in my eyes.  I puffed it out of the way and glanced at the clock
on the bedside table.  7:24 am.  Not too bad, I thought.  My mouth was a
bit dry, but no hangover symptoms.  My cock was hard, though, and standing
out in front of me, tenting my nightgown.  I thought hard.  What was I to
do?  Barry was sleeping quietly, his breath warm on the back of my neck.  I
took stock for a moment.  Last night had been great...  no, better than
great.  It had been fantastic.  Unbelievable.  The sex had been incredible.
It was as if all the times I had had sex as a man had been washed away and
I was a new woman who had just lost her virginity in a deep, passionate,
shivering, intense, and toe-curling orgasm...  and I felt pretty good about
it.  Warm and satisfied and wanted, in fact.  It was a pleasant, secure
feeling.  The problem was how to disengage from my current position and not
lose what I had achieved.  I didn't relish the idea of the sort of abusive
argument I could imagine would follow Barry's discovery of my little (and
currently erect) "secret." I figured I had two basic options: I could wake
Barry up and see if he wanted to fuck a girl who, incidentally, had a cock.
There was obviously some risk in that.  Plus, it was kind of a nasty trick
to play on a guy who seemed nice enough and was certainly charming and a
good lay.  Or I could try to maintain the deception and sneak out from
under his arm and shower and dress before he woke up.  This seemed safer.
The problem was that I wanted some more sex.  Really, really wanted it, as
a matter of fact.  I decided on the safe route, and that I would use the
shower time to try and think of a way to get some daylight sex without
being rejected, abused, or even beaten up.

   I gently held Barry's arm and rotated out from under him and slid off
the bed in one fluid movement.  As I stood I gently lowered his arm to the
mattress.  He was till wearing his golf shirt and nude from the waist down,
which made him look kind of cute and erotic at the same time.  He murmured
softly and rolled over onto his back and began to snore.  So far, so good.
I had better get dressed in the bathroom, I thought, and I thought about
what to wear...  the wedding was in the late afternoon, followed by dinner
and an evening reception and I didn't have to be anywhere until the
bridesmaid hair and makeup appointment at 2pm.  I was feeling a little
sore, to tell the truth...  my hips and waist were sore where the
unaccustomed "exertions" of the night, plus Barry's grabbing hands, had
pressed a bit too hard on my not-yet-completely-healed post-surgical areas.
The incisions seemed fine, at least I didn't see any bleeding and a quick
look under my nightgown showed the still-red scars were intact, but the
tissues underneath that had been lipo-suctioned and rearranged felt like
deep, hard bruises.  Ow.  I had better go with comfy-casual, I thought,
plus some of the post-surgical painkillers.  I stopped at the bureau and
quietly retrieved a plain white cotton panties and bra set, sandals, and a
green knit T-shirt dress that would fall to just above my knees.  Demure,
but still cute enough if my vague plan to re-seduce Barry was to work out.
I quickly tiptoed into the bathroom and quietly shut the door before
turning on the light.

   My hair was a complete birds-nest mess and my makeup was smeared every
which way.  I also had pretty obvious cum stains on my nightgown.  My
clothes from the last evening were still in a pile on the floor from last
night.  I dropped the nightgown down to my ankles and kicked it into the
pile, along with my equally stained panties and started the shower.  While
it heated and the bathroom filled with steam I drank three glasses of water
and took a couple of pain killers.  I needed coffee.  Since the hotel
thoughtfully provided a phone in the bathroom, I called room service and
asked them to send up coffee, juice, croissants, and toast for two...  I
had a feeling Barry might be limiting his morning diet to black coffee and
dry toast, the poor baby.  I told them to not knock, but just to leave it
outside the door, hung up, and got in the shower.  I luxuriated in the hot
water and steam and let my mind wander for a while.  I was glad it was a
room two-person shower with seats.  I sat for a while after the marble had
warmed up, and then tried leaning forward with the pounding hot water
loosening the tension in my back and neck muscles.

   After some time, feeling so relaxed I was almost purring, I got out and
treated myself to some nice moisturizing eau de toilette, after which I
toweled off and blotted my hair carefully dry...  since I was having it
done later I wasn't worried about styling, but I also didn't want to stress
the artificial weave too much.  I looked forward to having my own hair long
enough that I wouldn't have to worry about that sort of thing.  Of course,
I didn't want to look like a witch, either, so I gently combed it out, put
on my undies and pulled the dress over my head, and combed my hair straight
back after I.  I secured my hair back with a head band behind my ears and
then applied some very basic makeup...  lightly colored rose lipstick, a
bit of foundation, and a very little blush and mascara...  just enough to
keep from looking like a pale redheaded ghost.  I stepped into the sandals
and stepped out into the room.  The lights were still off, but I could hear
Barry stirring in bed so I went to the door and looked outside.  The room
service cart was there, so I wheeled it in and closed the door and went
over to see how my new boyfriend was doing.  Not well, as it turned out.

   "Uuuhhhhggg," he moaned, curled in a fetal position with a pillow over
his head.  Yep, I thought.  Hangover.  I leaned down to about where his
face must be under the pillow.

   "Hey, cutey, are you OK?" I asked softly.  "Oh, God," He groaned.

   "Ssshhhh," I whispered gently, stroking his arm.  "It's OK.  I'll take
care of you.  But you'll have to come with me; you're too big to carry." I
pulled gently on his arm as I pulled the pillow away.

   He covered his eyes with his free hand.  "Uuuhhhh." Even in the darkened
room the light was hitting him hard.  He sat slowly up, unsteadily; I
cradled his head against my belly and let him adjust to being vertical. 
"Ummm," he said uncertainly, "where am I?" I almost laughed out loud, but
stifled it and grinned to myself.

   "SShhh, baby," I said.  We'll talk later when you're feeling better. 
Now come with me." I pulled him gently to his feet.  He stood, swaying
slightly, and I moved next to him with my arm around his chest, under his
arms.  His hair was sticking out every which way, he had a dried crust of
saliva around his mouth, some major beard shadow, and his skin was a
distinctly grayish pallor.  He was still wearing the golf shirt, with
noticeable cum stains on the bottom front, and was nude from the waist
down. His cock was all shriveled in his misery and his pubic hair was
matted with dried semen.  Not the most romantic morning view, but I thought
it was kind of cute in a vulnerable and helpless sort of way.  He was
clinging to me like a sick little boy.  I had never realized how much power
women could exercise over men.  I led him slowly, with short slow steps, to
the bathroom.  He groaned at the bathroom light.  "Do you need to pee,
honey?"

   "Uhhh...  I don't think so."

   "Then sit down right here.  Don't go anywhere!" I sat him on the toilet
seat, started the shower again, and went to the room service cart where I
poured two black coffees and grabbed a plate of dry toast.  When I turned
back to the bathroom Barry had sunk to his side and was resting his head on
the cool marble bathroom counter top.  I set the coffee next to him and
poured him a glass of cold water from the sink faucet.  "Here, hon," I
said, stroking his head gently.  Stand up for a second and rinse your mouth
out." Don't wanna," he slurred, "m' gonna die."

   "No you're not; now stand up by the sink." I helped him to the sink and
made him rinse his mouth out and spit several times.  "Now try a little sip
of water and swallow it." He tried and gagged.  "Ssshhh, it's OK," I said,
stroking the back of his neck while he dry heaved over the sink.  I wetted
a washcloth with cold water and held it to the back of his neck.  "Try
again now," I said when he seemed to be a little better.

   This time it stayed down, so I had him drink a little more and eat a
corner of toast.  That stayed down too, although he was nauseous, so I had
him put his arms up and pulled off his crusty shirt and threw it in the
pile.  Then I helped him into the shower.

   While Barry stood helpless in the shower, leaning on the wall with the
hot water streaming down over his head, I went out and had my breakfast
croissants, juice, and coffee.  Then I went back in to check on my little
boy patient.  "Are you OK in there," I asked sweetly through the shower
doors.  Barry pulled the door back and managed a wan smile.

   "Well, I think I may live after all," he said, "Thanks to the prettiest
nurse I've ever seen." What a charmer.  Even hung-over he could still make
me grin with his outrageous flattery.

   "Well, thank you very much," I said, dimpling.  "And you are definitely
the cutest patient I've ever awakened next to."

   "Uhhhmmm," he said hesitantly...

   "Ssshh," I said, handing him another glass of water.  "First, drink
this, slowly." He did.  "Now eat this," I said when he was done, trading
his glass for a piece of dry toast.  He chewed and swallowed, bit by bit,
slowly.  Some color was coming back into his face.  "Now, you were saying?"


   "Well, I don't know exactly how to tell you this..." he trailed off.

   "Let me try," I said...  "Do you know who I am?"

   Barry looked shocked.  "Of course!"

   "Well, that's good," I said.  "Do you remember my name?"

   "How could I forget the beautiful Eve?" he said, flirtatiously, managing
a wink that made him wince.  His head must have been pounding.

   "Well, that's good, too," I said, brightly.  "Do you remember where you
are and how we got here?"

   "Umm...  not really."

   "How about what we did last night," I said in a throaty tone and with a
sultry look.

   He looked embarrassed.  "Well...  not much.  Sort of.  I think.  Maybe."


   "Well," I said, as I got some aspirin out of a bottle, "You're here in
my hotel room, where you spent the night as you can probably guess." I
handed him the aspirin.  "Now take these.  The toast should help you keep
them down." He washed them down, slowly, with another glass of water.  I
took the glass back.  "And we had a really, really, really good time last
night," I said with my sultriest look, "and you probably don't remember
what we did, how we did it, or even how many times?" I asked
mock-accusingly.

   "Umm, maybe a little," he said, looking guilty.  It was very cute.

   "Well," I said, leaning forward and lightly kissing the tip of his nose,
"maybe when you're feeling better, if you're a very good boy, I'll fill you
in on the sexy details.  But until then we need to get you feeling like a
human being first.  Here," I said handing him a pink ladies' razor.  "You
can shave with this and the moisturizer bar in there.  I'll go and find you
something to wear.  And here," I said, handing him the cup of coffee I had
pored for him, "sip this, too." I left as he meekly did as I said.

   Since he was only two inches taller than me, I figured he could wear
some of my sweats.  I pulled out a light blue t-shirt and taupe sweat pants
and hooded sweatshirt.  I added some white ankle socks.  A little
effeminate, but not ridiculous.  I went back in the bath.  Barry was till
shaving with the smallish blade.  "Here," I said, placing the things on the
counter, "you can wear these when you get out.  Brush your teeth, first," I
said, waving my finger at him as he peeked around the curtain, his face
half-soaped, "...  you can use the hotel toothbrush." I laid it out for
him. "I'll be on the patio when you get out." I left the bath and wheeled
the room service cart out to the patio.  Karen's room, next door, was
silent.  Either she had spent the night with Rick or the soon-to-be
newlyweds were still sound-asleep.

   It was another beautiful, sunny, southern California day.  I enjoyed the
sun on my face in the mildly warm morning breeze while I snacked on
croissant and had another coffee, light and sweet this time.  The fact that
Barry didn't remember last night very clearly was going to help me out
tremendously as I worked to manipulate him into more sex with little-old
transsexual me.

   After a while I heard the bathroom door open and I looked back over my
shoulder to see Barry emerge, hesitantly, wearing my sweats.  The jacket
and t-shirt were a bit tight, but it was better than his messy clothes,
most of which were still scattered around the room.  I saw him looking
around, noticing the wildly disarrayed and stained bed clothes and the
articles of clothing scattered here and there.  He walked out to the patio
and I stood up and gave him a long, gentle hug.  He hugged me back,
hesitantly.  I kissed him on the cheek and stood back a bit.  "Feeling
better, now, baby?"

   The water, toast, aspirin, and black coffee had remade Barry into a
reasonable semblance of a human being.  With his hair combed and a shave he
actually looked presentable.  He looked me in the eyes.  "I'm feeling a lot
better now, thanks to you," he said, managing a smile.  "God," he said,"
how much did I drink last night?"



   "Ummm...  a lot?" I giggled.

   "Shit," he said, in mock chagrin.  "I remember us drinking and getting a
cab pretty clearly.  Did you drink all those drinks?"

   "Yep," I lied, sweet and innocent.



   "Really?  You didn't pour them out in a plant or something?"

   "Nope.  They were yummy.  I like Irish Coffee." I grinned at him and
kissed his chin.  "And you were so cute."

   "Well, I'm glad you think so," he said, grinning.

   "Well, you'd better sit before you fall over or something." We sat and
refilled our coffee cups.  Barry stirred a little sugar in his and took
another piece of toast.

   "Did you really forget last night?" I asked.

   "Well...  some of it," he admitted, looking sheepish.

   "Well, how much do you remember?"

   "I'm not sure...  did you, uh, that is, ummm...  did you go down on me?"


   "Of course, silly!  Who did you think it was, the chamber maid?  How
could you forget?" I pouted.

   "Oh, hey," he protested quickly, "I didn't forget!  It's just that... 
it's kind of fuzzy.  And is was so incredible!  God, I thought maybe I
dreamed it!"

   "I still can't believe you forgot me," I said, drawing him out with more
pouting.  This was fun!  A plan was beginning to take shape in my mind of
how I would manipulate him into being my sex toy for the rest of the day. I
would have to convince him he had already known and accepted me...

   "No, no!" He protested.  "It just seemed too good to be true!"

   I let him off the hook with a big smile.  "Well...  if you're saying it
was a dreamy experience I guess I'll let forgive you.  Now, did you forget
the rest?" He looked uncomfortable and fiddled with his coffee cup.

   "Umm...  I think I remember you...  on top of me?"

   "Yep.  Go on." I lowered my head and looked at him, suspiciously,
through my lashes.

   "Uhhh...  you were riding me?"

   "Right again!  Now, do you remember how exactly we did it?  This should
be easy, baby," I said, laughing.



   "Umm...  did we, uh, that is...  I remember you were really tight and
uh...  did we do it in your...?" A

   I giggled.  "In my ass, you mean?  Of course, silly!  It was wonderful!"
I drawled the word out for emphasis.  He smiled, his ego stroked.  Now for
the hook.  "Of course it was the only way you could do me, so it's not like
it's a hard guess or anything."

   He didn't pick up on it at first; he was still preening at the thought
of being wonderful.  Then he noticed what I had just said.  "Uh, what?" he
blurted.

   "You know," I said, teasingly.

   "Um...  your period?" He took a stab in the dark and missed.  I decided
to put him on the defensive now, as I forced him down the path I was
designing.  I put on an expression of horror.

   "You forgot!!??" I said, my voice rising with feigned anger.  "I don't
fucking believe you forgot that!"

   "Uh, no, no!" He said, quickly, in sudden panic and confusion.  "Um,
maybe a detail or two...  what did I forget?  Please don't be mad, I didn't
mean to make you angry!" I just turned away and acted as if I was ignoring
him.  Let him simmer for a bit, I thought, and let the panic set in.  He'll
start putting two and two together in a little bit.

   After a tense pause he tried again, trying to be soothing this time. 
"Hey, hey...  I'm sorry!  Please forgive me...  it's OK...  Just tell me
why you're mad; I know I'm wrong and...  besides...  I really, really like
you.  I don't want you to be upset."

   I sniffed, facing away from him, and found I could fake some tears.  I
had to condition his response before he made the inevitable conclusion that
I was leading him to.  He reacted like men always do when faced with a
woman crying; he was confused and panicky and wanted to make it stop.  He
got up and came over to where I was sitting and gently put his hand on my
shoulder.  I flinched away.  He jerked his hand back.  "Don't touch me, you
asshole," I mumbled through my tears.

   "Hey, hey, I'm sorry," he said softly...  "Don't cry...  it's OK. 
Everything is OK, I promise.  Just tell me what's wrong and I'll make it
all right." He sounded desperate and was responding the way I wanted so I
decided to give him a little reward; I turned toward him and threw my arms
around his waist and hugged my face to his middle and sobbed and sniffed.
He stiffened and then put his hands gently on my head and stroked my hair.
"There, there," he said soothingly.  "It's OK.  I'm sorry I made you mad;
let me make it up to you?  It's just that...  well, you're so beautiful and
sexy and smart and funny; I guess I just liked you so much that I made a
stupid mistake!  Let me start over again?  I promise it'll be OK, I won't
do it again, whatever I did."

   Bingo, I thought, now for the big moment.  I took a deep breath.  I was
honestly worried about whether this would work or not, but all my instincts
and hormones were screaming to go on, so I took the plunge.  "I don't
believe you're going to make me go through it all over again," I said
quietly.  "I was so scared last night but you were so kind and
understanding and sweet about it...  was that really you?  Or was that just
an act or the booze talking?" I looked up at him, my eyes full of tears and
with a pleading expression.

   He looked stunned; like I'd hit him between the eyes with a bat.  He
squatted down and took my hands in his and looked into my eyes, earnestness
all over his face.  He we go, I thought.  "Hey," he said softly, "I don't
act.  Whatever I said last night, even if I don't remember it, I meant it
then and I still mean it now.  That's a promise.  I would never, ever hurt
you." OK, he was committed.  I wasn't acting now, I really was afraid and
upset.  This was going to be quite a leap of faith.  I took a deep breath.

   "Last night you told me that you found me attractive and that you wanted
to make love to me."

   "Well, sure," he said.  "Nothing upsetting about that, right...?"

   "That's just it," I said.  "You told me that after I told you my secret.
You told me that you didn't care, that you wanted me anyway."

   "Uh, secret?" He was looking apprehensive now.  Shit.  I was committed.
No way out.

   "You really don't remember now, do you?" I said.  Then, angrily, "I
swear, if you act like a jerk...  well, I guess there won't be much that
I'd be able to do.  Barry...  I don't know a better way to tell you this.
I'm a transsexual.  I was born a boy.  Now do you understand?  Do you
remember anything I told you?"

   Barry looked stunned.  Shit.  Well, at least he wasn't freaking out. 
Yet, anyway.  He sat down heavily, still stunned and speechless.  I didn't
want to look at him but I couldn't look away, either.  I felt like running
away and crying.  Finally he spoke.

   "You're...  a boy?" He paused.  "I don't believe it!" he said with a
disbelieving half grin, "Come on now, really!"

   "Jesus Christ, Barry, would I lie about something like this?  Besides,
it's not like I can't prove it, as you saw last night!"

   "What?"

   "Barry, do I have to spell it out for you?  I have a cock.  C-O-C-K. 
You saw it.  Remember?" It was now or never.  Shock him up front and
convince him he had already accepted it.  But Barry didn't say anything. 
His mouth was open, but nothing was coming out.  I decided on tears; play
on his sympathy and see where it led.  So I started sniffling.

   "God, I knew it, you hate me.  Just go and leave me alone!  You asshole,
how could you do this to me?!" I curled up into a fetal ball in my chair
and waited for a few, eternally long moments.

   I felt a gentle touch on my back and I twitched.  The touch was removed,
and then it was back again, gently stroking my hair.  "Ssshhhh...  "Barry
said.  I just sniffled.  "It's OK," he said.  I don't hate you; it's just
kind of a...  surprise, that's all.  I'm a little confused; it's all my
fault," he added hastily, "not yours.  It's all me, I'm sorry, baby. 
Please don't cry."

   I wasn't faking now, I really was crying, out of fear and embarrassment
more than anything else, so I put my arms around him and sobbed into his
chest.  Barry put his arms awkwardly around me and held me, gently,
ssshhh-ing and stroking my hair.  We stayed like that for a while.  It was
one of the most vulnerable and intimate moments I have ever had.

   After a bit, Barry took his arms from around me and out his hand under
my chin and tilted my face up.  He bent down and looked in my teary eyes.
"Baby, I don't know how, or why, or when, but I forgot last night and I'm
sorry.  Sorry I forgot and sorry I had to put you through this twice.  But
please believe me: you are a gorgeous, sexy, pretty, and incredibly
attractive woman and I don't care about how you were born, all I care about
is you, right here and now.  Please stop crying?  I'm sorry.  Please
forgive me." It had worked.  I won.  I kissed him, hard, both hands on the
back of his head; he was a bit startled at first and then he returned the
kiss.  We both did, with more and more passion, and then I was standing and
his arms were around me, and everything was perfect as he kissed away my
tears, and my heart raced and my breathing became shallow and ragged as he
touched my back, and breasts, and ass, and neck and everything exploded in
warm electric arcs of sensation as he led me inside to the bed.  My dress
came off, over my head, and my underwear disappeared and Barry's sweats
were gone and his body and mine were all that mattered as we tumbled onto
the bed.

   Do you know how sometimes when you are with the right person, and you
both want it really bad, sex turns into a frantic, passionate, frenzy where
everything feels right and the time spins away in spiraling desire?  Well,
maybe that's a poetic spin, but you get my meaning.  Well, that's what it
was like the second time with Barry.  The night before, losing my virginity
with his semi-conscious more-or-less cooperation, had been great...  but
now it got even better.

   Sex is better when there are two, when both people want it so badly that
you simply dispense with the preliminaries and jump straight into hard,
banging, fucking.  I'm not even sure how we got to the bed.  I remember
Barry pulling my dress off over my head as we kissed frantically, as if
afraid that we wouldn't be able to make contact after the brief
interruption of the thin material passing between us.  We didn't even have
to hit each other's mouth...  face, neck, chest, whatever was in reach;
each square inch of skin seemed tingling and alive under the kisses.  I was
gasping as he pulled my bra off and flung it over his head and his mouth
found my nipples.  I cried out as he sucked my nipple into his mouth, then
switched to the other one, then back again...  he bit softly and gripping
my nipple between his teeth, pulled on it...  and the incredible waves of
sensation made me ache for him to be inside of me; whether they were pain
or pleasure I still don't know.  We tumbled onto the bed as I pulled his
pants down and grabbed his cock.  I wanted it in my mouth, but he had other
ideas.

   He shucked off his pants and rolled to me, rolling me over as he did.  I
scooted up so that I would be fully on the bed (my legs were hanging off at
first) and as I did, Barry climbed on top of me, straddling my thighs.  He
fumbled about a bit at first, as I tried to wiggling my ass up to receive
him, and then I felt something wet and cold, then warm, squirt into the
crack of my ass...  he had found the tube of lubricant and was lubing me. I
hadn't thought of it until then, but I had enough time to be briefly
thankful that he had and then I felt the head of his cock prodding between
my ass cheeks as he leaned forward, his hands and elbows on the bed on
either side of me and his hard, flat stomach brushing my ass cheeks.  I
could feel his breath hot on my neck as he tried to poke his way into me...
he was too high.  I reached back and guided him down just a bit to the anal
opening...  there.

   My second assfucking was, if anything, even better than the first.  My
ass was still stretched from last night, so he slid easily into me, aided
by the warm greasy lube.  My sphincter was still tight, and I gripped him
with my ass muscles as he penetrated me, deeper and deeper, both of us
grunting with the sensation.  "God you're so fucking tight," he gasped.

   "God you're so fucking big," I said breathlessly...  "Fuck me slow and
deep, baby, you feel so fucking good inside me!"

   He drew himself slowly out of me, leaving what felt like an aching empty
abyss in my guts and then, slowly and sensuously, he thrust back into me,
inch by tantalizing inch.  I hadn't realized I had been holding my breath;
I let it out in a long, soft, "aaaaaahhhhhh....." as he penetrated me to
his entire length.  I pushed my ass up against him to get every last bit of
him at the best possible angle.  From the soft dull pain of my sphincter
ring to the aching fullness of my rectum I felt completely and utterly full
of warm throbbing cock.  Then he did it again.  And again.  And again. 
Over and over he fucked me, deep and slow, making me crazy with sensation
and desire for more.  More!  I wanted more.  God, I wanted more.  I didn't
know how, all I knew was that I needed him, more of him, deeper in me.  I
thrust my ass against his groin, meeting his thrusts, and gradually the
thrusts became faster, and harder...

   I don't know how long we did it like that, but after a time that seemed
an eternity I was bouncing on the mattress as he pounded my ass, hard and
deep, faster and faster until it seemed like a blur of pounding, thrusting
shafts deep in me.  I was crying out with his thrusts, uncontrollably and
wordlessly, my "aah!  Aaahh!" getting louder as he fucked me harder.  We
were sweating, drops rolling off us, his sweat dripping on me.  He pushed
his hands and forearms under my arms and grabbed my shoulders and pulled me
back onto his thrusts.  I craned my neck to the side and he leaned over and
we kissed, hungrily and passionately, our tongues seeking each others'
mouths as we gasped for air with the exertions.

   He changed his angle suddenly, driving his cock downward now so that it
dragged the head across my prostate and I thought I would faint from the
sensation.  My own cock was rubbing the sheets, harder and faster and I
knew I couldn't wait much longer...  and I wondered how long Barry could
keep it up...  both literally and figuratively.  And as I wondered, he
arched his back, wordlessly driving himself into me with one last, hard,
almost brutal thrust and as he groaned I felt him twitching inside me,
pulsing and throbbing as my ass filled with the flooding warmth of his
semen...  and as he did my own cock let go with its own jets, wetting the
bed sheets with a spreading, warm, wet spot.

   Barry collapsed onto me, panting.  I was panting too, with a bit more
effort as his weight was pressing me down, squashing my chest and
flattening my breasts against the mattress.  I didn't mind, though.  It
felt good to have a man on top of me and inside me.  Barry summoned up the
energy to kiss my sweaty back, with tiny, tender, nibbling kisses and I
purred with the intimacy and the warm feelings of contentment and fullness
and possession.  Barry was still shaking with the intensity of the orgasm,
and I was too.  After a time I felt Barry's cock softening inside me, until
it pulled out of me with a soft "plop" feeling.  After a few minutes, as
our ragged breathing returned to a normal, if still fast and shallow pace,
Barry rolled off me and onto the bed.  I took a long, deep breath, still on
my belly, and turned my head to the side to look at him.

   Barry was on his back, his skin glistening with sweat and his hair
matted with it.  I watched his chest rise and fall and then he turned his
head to face me, and looked into my eyes with those incredibly blue eyes of
his.  He had the softest, most tender look on his face that I had ever
seen.

   "Are you OK?" he asked softly.

   "Mmmmmm....hmmmm..." I purred, closing my eyes and grinning.  God I felt
good.  I felt his fingers brush my face; I opened my eyes as he brushed the
hair away from my face and scooted over a bit closer.  His lips brushed
mine, and I opened my mouth, but he drew back so I leaned toward him and
placed tiny, sucking kisses along the line of his collar bone.  He tasted
warm and wet and salty and good.  I licked at him as he sighed with the
sensation.  I lifted my head and he slid his arm underneath and I rested on
his muscular upper arm and cuddled, still on my stomach and him on his
side, in the curve of his shoulder.  He held me gently, one arm beneath my
head and his hand between my shoulder blades and the other, free, hand
gently stroking my hair.

   My anus was pleasantly sore, and I could feel a warm, wet, greasiness
between my ass cheeks and running down into my crotch that I suspected was
his semen leaking out of me.  My own and now shriveled cock was pressed
into the cooling wet spot I had made below me and that my anal trickle was
adding to.  Yuck.

   After holding me like this for what seemed a very long time, Barry
gently disengaged and rolled over onto his back.  "Sorry, my arm is falling
asleep," he said quietly.  I pushed myself up onto my elbows and looked at
him.  He laid there, his hair still matted with sweat and his eyes half
closed as he drowsed in the pleasant afterglow.  I scooted over, closer to
him (and out of the wet spot, incidentally) and onto my side, facing him. I
curled up in a semi-fetal position, with my head on his upper chest and my
free arm across his abdomen with my hand cupping his hip.  He put his left
arm around me and held me, and put his right hand behind my head, his
fingers entwined in my hair.  This went on for some time, cuddling,
occasionally kissing in slow, gentle, explorative arcs, and whispering
quietly to each other about nothing in particular.  I basked in the warm
circle of his powerful body and his strong arms and he explored, very
gently, my woman's curves, from my throat to my breasts.  I noticed he
carefully avoided my crotch and what was tucked away, hidden, there.

   After a while, Barry gently disengaged himself, and as I rolled off him
onto my back he sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed.  He
turned back to look at me.  "Sorry, beautiful, but we've got the wedding
we're supposed to be getting ready for." The wedding.  Shit.  What time wa
it?  I sat up hurriedly and looked for the clock.  Barry noticed my sudden
panic and laughed indulgently.  "Hey, don't panic, it's still only about
1...  you've got plenty of time.  It's just that I have to go back to my
hotel...  and you're right here, where the bridesmaids will be getting
ready." He had a point there.  I calmed myself and rolled around to face
him, swinging my legs underneath me, and squatting back on my crossed
ankles, with my knees primly together and my hands in my lap.  My little
cock was squeezed out of sight, between and behind my thighs, so I looked
like a very prim girl who was, incidentally, stark naked and with traces of
smeared makeup and matted hair giving away her very recent and very naughty
activity.  I looked at Barry and he smiled.  "God, you're beautiful!" He
stood up and walked, naked, over to the side of the bed closest to me and
gently took my head in his hands, leaned down, and kissed me, softly.  I
closed my eyes and sighed and savored the salty taste of his lips and
opened my mouth to the gentle caressing touch of the tip of his tongue and
then he drew back as I opened my eyes.  "I have to get going," he said with
a faint grin," or you'll convince me to stay and we'll both be late!"

   He was leaving.  I felt a sudden cold wave of emptiness and loneliness.
It was probably the raging and weirdly mixed hormones, but I felt almost
like crying.  "Will I see you again?" I asked, sadly, expecting a reply
that I feared.



   Barry just stopped in his search for his pants (which were hanging from
a lampshade) and looked at me with a neutral expression.  Then he saw my
bottom lip quivering softly and came back, sat next to me and put his arm
around me.  I leaned into him and tried not to cry.  "Hey, ssshhh," he
said, gently.

   "I want to see you again," I said, softly, not looking at him.

   "I know," he said quietly.  "I..." He paused for a long moment, then
took a deep breath and went on.  This is it, I thought.  I'm going to get
dumped.  "I need to think this whole thing over," he said, finally.  "About
you.  And me."

   "I thought you accepted me for who I am," I asked quietly.

   "I do," he said, a little defensively.  "It's just that it's... 
complicated.  You're a gorgeous, sexy, intelligent, funny woman...  and I
am incredibly attracted to you, maybe more than any woman I've ever known,
it's just that...  well...  you know." He ended helplessly, not wanting to
say what I knew he was thinking.  I did actually understand what he was
going through, I had gone through a similar process over the last month, of
deciding who I was and what I wanted, and I had dragged him into the whole
thing suddenly and with more than a little trickery.  But my hormones were
surging and my emotions were raging, and all I knew was what I felt, and I
felt alone and abandoned and unloved and angry at him for making me feel
this way.

   "Whatever," I said, flatly and coldly and without another word I rolled
around and off the bed, stood up, and walked to the bathroom, went in,
closed the door, and locked it.  I started the shower, grabbed a towel off
the rack, and sat on the toilet seat and sobbed silently into the towel,
tears of rage and loneliness soaking the soft cotton.

   After a while I heard Barry knock softly and say, a little helplessly I
thought, "I'll, uh, see you at the wedding, OK?" I didn't reply and after a
brief pause I heard the door open and close as he left.  I let my tears
flow for a bit longer and then took a deep breath and tried to pull myself
together.  With a shaky sigh I got up and got in the shower and stood there
for a long time, not thinking and letting the hot water pound down on me
and wash away my emotional cloud.

   It helped.  Quite a lot, actually.  I felt much better when I got out
and dried myself off.  I had scrubbed my face in the shower and my eyes
didn't seem excessively red or swollen as I studied myself in the mirror.
My activity of the night and morning notwithstanding, my surgical scars
were healing nicely, the redness now gone except for the thin red line of
the scar tissue along the incisions.  My breasts had settled a bit and were
high and tight and perky, like a teenager's, but not obviously implanted.
My augmented ass cheeks had settled a bit too, looking soft and round and
feminine.  Maybe the pounding they had received the night before and this
morning had been good for them.  I turned back and forth and inspected
myself.  Not bad...  darned good, actually.  Trim and slim and high-waisted
and pert-breasted.  A bit broad-shouldered, slim in the hips, and
ever-so-slightly muscular in the thighs, but not in a bad way.  I just
looked athletic, although I was hoping to become a bit curvier and perhaps
even voluptuous as the hormones kicked in.  My hair was a damp mop, but I
had gently combed it out in the shower and the afternoon had a complete
makeover and hair session in store for all the bridesmaids (and Karen, too!
I looked forward to seeing her) so I wasn't concerned.

   I blotted my hair with a towel and then let it air dry as I walked
around the room in my robe, neatening up a bit.  The place was a bit of a
shambles.  I picked up the bed clothes from the pile on the floor where
they had been kicked during my passionate deflowering and piled them on the
bed.  I picked up odd bits of clothing from here and there; some semen
stained, and put them in the growing pile in the bathroom, where I also
separated the towels into another, also growing and somewhat damp pile. 
The maids had been held off by the "do not disturb" sign, but I really need
their service now.  I called down to the housekeeping staff and arranged
for them to come up after 3.  I also wrapped two 20-dollar bills in a brief
thank you note and left it on the bathroom counter addressed to
"housemaids." They were doing a really good job of taking care of me; in an
odd way I almost felt like they were family, watching me go through my
rebirth and abbreviated puberty and picking up after me as I did so.  I
made a mental note to commend them to the hotel management and also to
leave them a substantial tip when I checked out in two days.

   God, two days, I thought.  I had a lot to do in two days.  The vacation
was over.  I had to touch base with the realtor and see where (if anywhere)
I was going to live and also what I would be doing there.  I had to make
arrangements for my future medical treatments, get rid of all my old male
stuff, and figure out how I was going to fit all my new things into my
smallish convertible.  I had to divert my household shipment to my new
place.  I had to buy new luggage.  Crap.  I was going to be busy.  And it
was almost 3 o'clock; time to go.  I put on some sweats and sneakers,
grabbed some underwear and stockings, and went down to the spa.

   The spa really cheered me up.  The other bridesmaids were there, two
lieutenants and a captain; all friends from Karen's various assignments
(they had "heard about Karen's sister" from Karen's various stories, so I
was covered), and we chatted and giggled while the stylist did our hair and
the makeup ladies worked on the rest of us.  After two ours of manicure,
pedicure, facial and scalp massage, hairstyling, and a complete makeover I
felt like an entirely new woman.  I also looked fabulous!  I paid close
attention and pumped the makeup ladies for some tips since I wanted to be
able to recreate some of their artistry; I learned some good stuff that I
still use today.  The captain was married, but the two lieutenants were
single girls and had each had some fairly lurid sexual escapades since they
had been in town; they kept us laughing with their sexy and funny stories
all through the pampering process.  I thought of my own adventure and
smiled to myself.  I wasn't feeling quite confident enough to talk candidly
about that...  not yet, anyway.

   As the hair stylists and makeup ladies finished up the dressmaker showed
up with our dresses and matching shoes; we had about an hour to get to the
wedding location and the minibus was ready so we got dressed.  I was a
little nervous at changing in front of the other women; luckily they had
separate cubicles set up so I didn't have to worry about them seeing my
little thing hanging there between my legs.  I started with the thong; that
took a little creative wiggling as I got my cock positioned just right.  I
put on the garter belt next, a really sexy gold and embroidered six-strap
combination garter belt and girdle made of stretchy spandex/lycra and lined
with silk.  It was full-fashioned in a retro style, it reached from my
waist to just below my hips and my crotch.  It fastened with a set of hook
and eye fasteners in back that took a little wiggling and reaching to
fasten just right.  It had the secondary effect of cinching my waist a bit
more and sculpting my newly augmented ass cheeks and hips.  I still had a
little residual soreness and swelling from the surgery, not to mention the
man handling (ha ha) and fucking they had been receiving over the previous
day or so; the support the stretch material provided was a welcome feeling.
I put on the stockings next, full-fashion black silk with a back seam,
hooked to the six garter straps.  Finally there was a matching strapless
longline bra, lined with silk again, with a terribly flattering and
somewhat daring demi cup that not only put my new breasts on display, but
also pushed them up as if there were on a shelf, exposed down almost to the
nipple.  The bra itself reached down to the bottom of my ribs, promising
secure support and stability: I liked being on display, but I didn't want
everything to slide down or, worse, to pop out in the middle of the affair!


   I must admit, the gowns looked great if I do say so myself; added to the
professional styling and makeup we all looked really, really good.  We
looked beautiful and feminine and glamorous without the saccharine
over-sweetness of most bridesmaid gowns.  With three-inch formal pumps the
gowns twirled, giving a glimpse of ankle and a hint of calf.  I regretted
briefly not being able to display my legs, but then I gave it a bit of
thought...  this was Karen's day.  After the last few days I realized just
how easy it was to attract a man; while I enjoyed the attention and the sex
that seemed to inevitably follow, my job today was to support Karen, not be
the party slut.  Besides, I had managed to manipulate the situation with
Barry...  but I might not be so lucky the next time.  I didn't need some
horrified erstwhile admirer blurting out my (and Karen's!) secret in the
middle of the reception.  I decided to be cautious and to try and keep it
demure and ladylike.

   Now to be honest, I hadn't had to do much as the Maid of Honor up to
this point.  Karen had pretty much planned and executed the whole thing
(including transforming me!!!), which is pretty much typical of Karen.  She
had been the big sister and acted the role of junior-Mom all our lives, so
it was nothing new to me.  She's always in charge and always perfectly
organized.  I wondered if her new husband knew what he was getting into...
Karen had done all the stuff the maid of Honor usually has to help out
with...  stuff like the location, invitations, menu, dress, décor, seating,
and the rehearsal.  She hadn't had a "bachelorette party" (she probably
figured she had a wild enough past to cover up as it was) so I hadn't had
to do that, either.  She was also handling her own dressing and makeup
(albeit with some hired help from the hotel concierge service).  But she
wasn't superwoman...  she couldn't be in two places at once.  So today I
had some things to do.

   The first thing to do was to get to the wedding site, an absolutely
beautiful outdoor site overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and make sure
everything was ready...  and be prepared to react if it was not.  Luckily I
had the three bridesmaids as assistants.  Their names were...  damn, I had
just met them...  Michelle, Alyssa, and ...  and...  oh yes, and Amy.  And
Eve, I thought mischievously to myself.  I went to check.  They were ready,
I was ready, so off we went in the minivan the hotel had thoughtfully
provided (they were making a bunch of money off the reception, so it wasn't
entirely altruism on their part).  On the drive over I went through my
checklist and a wedding emergency kit...  I had put together over the last
couple of days (with some help and advice from the concierge).  Bobby pins,
dress mending kit, makeup, clear nail polish, hairspray, comb, tissue,
perfume, breath mints, replacement pantyhose, over-the-counter headache
medicine, super glue, upset-tummy tablets, deodorant, and watch.  Check. 
Grooms ring, very important!  Check.  My cel phone with numbers for the
caterer, reception manager, photographer, minister, and other important
players.  Check.  I felt as prepared as I could be, but I was still
nervous. Was it the new hormones or genuine worry?  Did it matter?  I
popped a couple of the tummy-tablets.

   The site appeared to be all set up as we pulled up and climbed out. 
That was a good sign.  The photographer was already there, setting up his
arcane equipment and checking the light.  The chairs, a rose-covered
trellis for the minister, and the runner had all been laid out and parking
attendants were on hand.  I deployed my assistants and we strolled out to
check on things.  Everything appeared to be in order.  1 hour to go.  I sat
down in the front row and tried to relax.  The time seemed to race by. 
Maybe it was the hormones...  or the adrenaline.  After a little time I
spent calming down and clearing my thoughts, I got up and made the rounds.
The guests were starting to arrive and so were the ushers.  I went to meet
them.  I was primed to be the perfect hostess but once Barry arrived I
forgot all about that.

   He came walking up from the parking lot looking absolutely gorgeous in
his Army dress blue uniform, medals and insignia flashing in the sun.  I
wanted him.  I wanted him all to myself, to hold, and talk to, but mostly I
just wanted to be at the center of his attention.  He walked up to me and
said, quietly, "Hi."

   "Hi," I replied just as quietly.  What was I going to say?  I racked my
brains.

   "You look incredible," he said.

   "Thanks."

   "No, really.  You look...  absolutely amazing.  Like a model, or a... 
movie star or something.  From the glamour days." He was actually blushing!



   "Um, thanks...  I um..." I wasn't really sure what to say.  I was
staring at my feet when he reached out and took my chin in his hand and
tilted my face up...  although in my three inch heels I was actually about
an inch taller than him, so he didn't have to tilt far.  He leaned forward
and kissed me, softly, on the lips.  It was brief and soft but incredibly
warm and felt as if an electric charge has passed into me, creating a
sudden splash of warmth in my belly.

   "I was thinking about you.  Are you OK?" he asked.

   "Yes, I said then blurted, "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I was such a bitch
when you left, and I didn't mean to be and..."

   "Shhh...." he said, touching my lips."It's OK.  I seem to remember I was
kind of a jerk before that, considering what went on all last night...  and
this morning."

   I put my palms on his chest and stepped closer to him.  "It's OK," I
breathed and then we kissed.  It was one of those kisses that is soft, and
slow and tender and seems to last forever while the whole world shrinks to
a tiny circle of warm sensual pleasure.  When we finally broke for air I
was short of breath.

   "Oh, my," I said just as Barry blurted, "Wow!" We just grinned at each
other for a bit.  Then I fished in my purse for a hanky...  "Hold still," I
said as I blotted at his mouth where I had smeared, very lightly, a thin
bit of lipstick.  He just grinned.  We spent the next few minutes waiting
for the bridal party holding hands and talking and giggling like teenagers.
My heart was pounding and I felt happier than I had ever been and all I
could see were his big warm eyes and his soft smile.  Finally we parted as
the wedding began to organize itself and we had to take our places.  I had
scandalously neglected my duties while I sat giggling with Barry; luckily
the bridesmaids and ushers had got things organized between them.  One of
the good things about having your wedding part made up of military people.

   They had timed the ceremony for just past sunset, so that the sky would
be glowing with the sun just below the horizon of the azure sea, but not so
that it would mess up the photography.  As with all Karen's plans, it
worked perfectly.  Karen was beautiful, her husband was gorgeous, the
ceremony went smoothly and the weather was perfect.  And through all of it
I kept peeking at Barry out of the corner of my eye.  Once I caught him
peeking at me.  I must have been terribly distracted because the whole
thing just sort of blurred on by.  Before I knew it, the vows had been said
and the newlyweds were posing for their pictures against the glowing sky
with the ocean stretching out behind them.  One thing that did stand out in
my mind was the senior officer Karen had chosen, in lieu of our deceased
father, to give her away.  I had met him briefly before, the night I had
met Barry, but I had been so take up with my outrageous flirting that I
hadn't really formed much of an impression.  I was in the middle of trying
to check everything at once as the part cleared out, hoping I hadn't
forgotten anything, when he walked up to me from behind and put his arm
around my shoulders.  I confess I almost jumped out of my skin.

   "Whoa, calm down young lady," he said, laughing.  "It's not that bad! 
You're doing just fine!  Don't worry...  everything is going OK and you're
doing a great job for your big sister...  and you know what?" I didn't
answer at first.  I was feeling that `naughty-schoolgirl-caught-in the-act'
feeling again.  He was absolutely gorgeous in a chiseled,
grey-at-the-temples way.  Some guys get better with age.  He was one. 
Plus, he was even more resplendent in his uniform than Barry had been... 
with his medals and the two stars of a general winking from the cuff of his
mess dress uniform.

   Have you ever had one of those dreams where you find yourself going to
school or work naked and everyone is staring at you?  Well, that's how he
made me feel.  I felt like he was staring right through me and new all my,
um, secrets.  I hadn't felt this vulnerable since I went out that first
time with Karen.  I must have had a real `deer-in-the-headlights' look
because he laughed, gently and warmly.  "I startled you, didn't I?"

   "um, yes, and, uh, no...  uh, that is I mean, no, I don't know what, and
uh, yes you startled me!" I blurted suddenly.  I felt hot.



   "You're blushing," he said with a smile.  His hand felt warm on my bare
upper arm and his arm was heavy and strong across my back and shoulders.  I
wondered if I just leaned into him what he would do.  Would he take me in
his arms?  Kiss me?  God, I felt like I had the other night when I first
met him...  like some stereotype heroine in a bodice-ripping novel, all
heaving bosoms and flushed with passion.  How did he do that?  Or was it
just me?  His eyes were deep and warm and brown.  I realized I was staring.

   "I uh, really have to get to the reception..."

   "Well, I just wanted to tell you this...  he leaned closer.  My head was
turned to look at him and I thought for a moment he was going to kiss me.
My lips opened and my eyes have closed seemingly on their own.  He breathed
gently, his lips almost touching mine, "Don't worry about the small stuff.
It will take care of itself and nobody will notice anyway...  they're all
looking at the happy couple.  You need to relax and have some fun for
yourself...  you're too beautiful to waste on all this running around."

   And with that he stroked his hand up my upper arm and across my bare
back as he withdrew his arm from my shoulders and walked to the parking
lot. I was quivering, almost shivering from his touch, his strength, his
warmth, and his amazing presence...  and my little bare cock was an
insistent pressure, buried beneath my legs and trying to harden.  After a
moment I pulled myself together with a start and got back to work.  We had
our obligatory bridesmaid and usher photos done, then it was time for us
all the pile back into the vans and head back to the hotel for the
reception.  I had things to do there: as the maid of honor I was
responsible for arranging the gift table, making sure the cake was ready,
and of course offering a toast.  But those warm brown eyes stayed with me.
And my small smooth cock stayed semi-hard in response.