Yes, Hal and I did it on Saturday night.
In a way, it's a load off my mind, because now I know what it's like, but I've spent a lot of the time since in a daze trying to sort out my opinions on the matter, as well as some very strange news that has overshadowed it (yes I know, shocking though it is, there's something more pressing than sex.)
But sex is what you've come for so I might as well clear that topic up.
The kids were at their Aunt & Uncle's place (The McClay's, Ellie's house,) so Hal and I could have a romantic evening that was more awkward for me than anything and made me want to go through with it less than ever. But after the main course, (a veal dish I whipped up - I'm getting half-decent at this cooking thing) we sat drinking wine for a little while. I was aiming to get drunk past the point of consolation, so that I'd be more amiable to the situation, but it was to Hal's credit that he didn't immediately whip it out and take me by force. He was willing to wait, and that was something I really... appreciated. Lord knows I kept him on the line long enough, finding some reason to put it off longer and longer.
Over drinks, we got to talking, Hal and I. He's a decent guy, sorta complicated and sorta not. If I were really his wife, I'd probably see him as closed off, but I know where that type of behaviour comes from and I don't begrudge him it. So I coaxed him into letting his guard down and before long we were more straightforward with each other than we had been ever before - as much as we could be with me completely lying about my identity - and I voiced some of the feelings Anne-Marie had expressed to me about her husband, saying I know it's been a tough time and thank you for being such a strong provider and all that stuff. It was a good performance. And then eventually, three and a half glasses of wine deep apiece, he stood up, and took me by the hand, and... well, no more words.
God, this is embarrassing. I'm at a loss for words (a rare condition for me.) As a guy, I bragged about sex all the time, but now I just feel really... I don't know, vulnerable? Exposed? Is that too girly to admit to? Changing your role in sex, I just realized, consists of more than a sensory experience, it's a whole new goddamn discourse. I should've read Foucault when I had the chance.
For a grown man becoming a woman in this scenario, there comes a time... however many weeks or months it might take... when you just can't deny yourself anymore. Especially when your back's against the wall like mine's been. I think Art and Ashlyn might back me up on that (but to each their own.) On the night before, I got to thinking about my life as Anne-Marie, and everything I've been through. Beyond the initial fear and confusion and loss of self-identity. I've been through the cycles, the soreness of this body, the exhaustion at things I used to be able to do no problem, the different tastes, the family dinners, the laundry, the unusual desires, the body odours, retaining water, dressing myself in a woman's clothes, sleeping in bed with someone's husband, lying to everybody in the world (except two,) and all that other minute shit that has worn me down over the past six months... I thought about it all and just fucking broke down and thought, goddamnit, I need something I can enjoy. It's not so much about sexual pleasure, I'm saying, as much as it's about something safe. Something I can just enjoy.
So with all that in mind, I felt I owed it to myself more than anything else to at least try to enjoy this part of it. Because for the next six months, it's about all I've got.
So we went up to the bedroom, and got warmed up pretty fast. I guess the thing about marital sex that's different from premarital sex (of which I know a great deal more) is that it's all fairly routine. He didn't feel the need to try anything that I would've deemed unusual. In fact, there was a great deal more he could've done that I always tired to do, but again, that's from the perspective of a 24-year-old unmarried guy. So basically after some light fondling and such to get him primed, we just... got to it.
I'll note, as a matter of record, that I was considering dolling up a bit more for the occasion. I would've known where to begin, but Anne-Marie has a small collection of sexy lingerie. I used to date a girl who was really into corsets and leggings and all that stuff, but she was kinda chubby and it hurt the effect a little bit, to see her all jammed into it. Anne-Marie is no spring chicken, this body has given birth to two kids and seen better days. I looked at that stuff, and it brought back those memories, and I thought better of it. I was just wearing a black bra and panties, and not for long: I stripped them off and slipped into bed next to him.
The whole affair lasted maybe 10 minutes, and at the end, he held me a while before falling asleep. The whole time I was just... outside my own body. I felt this thing slipping into me, and it was like "Woah, not ready for this, but here we go!" It's also very strange to find you don't mind a hefty-ish, hairy-ish man grunting and gyrating on top of your body in certain situations. Since I wasn't really "warmed up," there was a very unpleasant friction at first, but as we got into the groove, his member started finding the right spots and I was starting to enjoy the rhythm before... whoop. Thanks for playing.
I know this is gonna sound weird, but it's the holding that made me more uncomfortable than anything else we did. I would rather have kept it less intimate than that. I could feel his heart beat and suddenly I was aware that this man thought he as in love with me. Oh, shit.
I'm at a loss for words to describe the actual feeling. It was... nice, and I get the sense it could've been a lot better. I'm disappointed it didn't turn out better, but I'm not alarmed I liked it as much as I did. I don't know what I was expecting. But when I finally did get to sleep, I slept like a log, and felt better the next morning than I have since transforming, or in fact a while before.
But if it's not one thing it's another...
I was called over the next morning to help Donna, Anne-Marie's oddly irksome friend, with her new HDTV. Having seen my prowess at the cocktail party, she enlisted my help fixing some wiring.
Donna, I'd decided over the last few months, is an odd bird. She's in her 40's, has a son in University and a daughter in the last year of high school. She's fairly well-preserved, and has a good deal of exercise equipment around her house, as well as beauty supplies. Her husband is some communications bigwig and works 4 days a week in the city, and often goes on business trips, so she's along in the house a fair bit. I got the feeling this was why she was so cloying for Anne-Marie's friendship.
"I'll put a cup of tea on," she insisted when I arrived. She'd asked me to come over around 11 on Sunday, and when she answered the door, she was wearing a lace nightie under a robe very loosely cinched so that when she opened the door and a gust of winter wind blew, her cleavage stared me right in the eye. I averted my eyes awkwardly.
"That's okay," I said, stepping out of my boots, "I won't be long."
"Oh come on now," she teased, "There's nobody else here, I need someone to talk to. We go so long without seeing one another these days."
Nobody else here? Then what in God's name was the nightie for?
After putting on a kettle, she went upstairs and was caught in a lie when I heard her daughter yelp, "Ew, mom! How about putting on some clothes sometimes? God!" I laughed and got to work on the TV set. I made short work of it, since the only problem was a wrongly-inserted AV cable.
"Oh, I'm so glad," Donna said when she came downstairs, more reasonable dressed in a sweater and khakis, "My husband is just as bad at this stuff as I am and he's too proud to ask for help. You know men."
"That I do," I huffed. Let me go, lady, I thought as I stepped toward the door.
"Oh by the way, I borrowed something from you," she rifled around the kitchen as I stood in the doorway. "Hal lent them to me when we were at your place last month, and I haven't had a chance to give them back. I was just so interested in looking at them."
Anne-Marie's photos from the Maine trip. They'd been on the digital camera when I was transformed. I gave her a very suspicious look and said thanks for returning them.
"She's growing up so fast, your niece," Donna smiled politely, "She looks so petite there, but I saw her at the party too, and she's becoming quite a young lady." Well, that was the truth - Bryan's transformation has really been ongoing.
"And the inn where you stayed, well, it looks so cozy," she noted. Now I was started to get seriously weirded out.
"It wasn't as good as it looks," I sneered. Hand on the doorknob.
Her glance turned away momentarily. "Well, in any case, they've hardly re-decorated at all since the last time I was there."
I froze, barely able to breathlessly form the words "Excuse me?"
She looked me dead in the eye, her lips cracking into an evil grin, "Oh you know. It's just been so long since I was there I can hardly remember it, but it does bring back memories."
The teakettle whistled.
"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay a while?"
Like I said, stuff just keeps coming up. I'll have to get back to this later.
well, although I'm interested in this new transformee, I'm more interested in your feelings about the change in your status and role. More, please.
And so the plot thickens...
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