Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Judith/Tyler: Strange dreams

Ugh. I had a pretty important meeting that I nearly slept through this morning... a consequence of my new responsibilities at work. I'm supposed to be arranging this 30th Anniversary Party for like 200 people (it's pretty small potatoes considering the company routinely does 1000+, but considering I'm a novice, as is Judith, 200 is a good place to start.)

I don't always remember my dreams, but occasionally I have one that is vivid and leaves me feeling freaked. First of all, in any one of my dreams I could be in any of the bodies I've inhabited over the years, or a combination. But in this one I was Judith. I was on top of a very tall building. There's a shadowy figure waving to me from the next building over. I don't know who it was, but I felt very compelled... I had to get to them. The only way over was a tightrope, so I start walking it... in heels. Of course I lose my balance and land, crotch-first, on the rope, and I have to keep my legs clamped on it to scootch forward, but I never quite make it. I could feel my hands gripping the rope, shaking, the wind blowing my hair... the sun was coming up and by the time it was daylight it was... well, daylight, and I woke up, almost late for my meeting.

I have been in a daze all morning. Not that I necessarily think it means anything, but it just left me feeling... strange, afraid, sad, haunted. After the meeting, which I was barely mentally present for, I called and left a message on Kitty's voice mail at work, saying I just wanted to talk, which I realize was a mistake because it makes me seem a bit sad and pathetic, and like some kind of emergency happened.

I dunno. It's a weird thing to bring up in a post, but I needed to get it out there.


PS I just realized in the first draft of this post, I put Judith's name first instead of mine. Leaving it that way, but please chalk it up to disorientation and nothing else. I'm still me, even if what it means to be me has changed.

Saturday, January 28, 2017

Simon/Joy: My body, my choices right?

I wasn't all that surprised that Treena didn't approve of my little sexual activites the other week. Maybe she thought that by gifting me my first vibrator (not that I have a second one yet) I wouldn't feel any need to try the real thing, and honestly I was surprised at how into it I was, but... like, all the sexual focus I used to put on women had to go somewhere and it turns out men do the trick in a pinch. I see things differently now. But I'm still thinking I can go back when I'm good and ready.

She seems to think I should be happy keeping to myself but I'm not like her, I'm social, I need to be around other people, need to be liked and fawned over, especially now that it's so easy to get attention. I get bored easily and you can't focus on work 100% of the time. I'm frickin' horny!

So I've gone home with three other guys since my first one. The results were mixed... there was a shocking amount of variety in their styles and abilities. One guy wanted to do it from behind but I was afraid he was gonna use that as an opportunity to put it in my @$$ so I didn't let him... so it's only actually been two guys. One didn't last long, the other went twice. Oh, and then I invited the neighbor's pool guy in for a drink one day this week when I was home between appointments, and we ended up screwing so it actually is four. He was probably the best.

Maybe I should be pickier but I'm still figuring out what I like. You could say I'm easy but I do try to make them work for it. That's why the number is so low. Except when I'm just too horny (thus, the pool guy. But he was very muscular, tan and confident, so he was "in my league.")

So yeah, Treena's response: she was basically trying to accuse me of being a slut without using that word, because supposedly she's all sex-positive. But when she sees a gal like me really taking advantage of her options, suddenly she disapproves. Not that I've never seen her have casual sex, in fact she's been with more guys than I have since I've gotten here... can you blame me for wanting to catch up?

Maybe she thinks I'm giving Joy a bad name, but the last time I checked, I'm the only "Joy" here anymore. The next one can clean up my mess, if need be, but I'm not hurting anyone. If she's got hang-ups, well, that's her problem.

Just having my fun. Honestly, these guys are just falling over themselves to get me to call back. Love it. Such a turn on.

Thursday, January 26, 2017

Tyler/Judith: Friends

Dylan brought a new friend home for dinner the other night. A boy from school who was assigned to work with him on a project. A skinny 13-year-old with shaggy blonde hair and a batch of zits around his temples.

"Don't be weird or anything," the Kid said as he introduced the young man. "But his name's Tyler."

"Tyler!" I said with an amused smirk, "That's a very nice name.... I knew a boy named Tyler a long time ago. He was trouble. Are you trouble, Tyler?"

"Um, no ma'am," he said overly politely.

"That's good," I said, "Although a little trouble is good every now and again."

"Um, sure..." he said, confused.

"But not too much, you get me?"

"Um, yes ma'am."

"Don't call me-- on second thought, keep calling me ma'am. I'm starting to like it."

"Mo-om!" Dylan groaned in embarrassment. I have to admit it's very strange how comfortable he's finally gotten using that word around me, and how comfortable I've gotten responding to it. He ushered Young Tyler up to her room. I called up to tell them to leave the door open. I could tell they did, because the sound of Xbox was clear through the whole house.

I took some headache medication and started working on dinner until Kitty got home. He came into the kitchen and asked, with his brow a bit furrowed in that way that would almost be cute, "Who's up there with Olivia?"

"Her friend Tyler from school."

"A boy?"

"Uh, yeah. Is there a problem with that?"

"Don't you think that's a little... I mean, aren't you worried?"

"Not really, he seemed perfectly innocent."

"That's--" he huffed, "How old is he?"

"Twelve, thirteen? He's in Dylan's class, so he's, you know... older, but you know how it is with the Kid."

"Now I am worried," he huffed, pacing the room with his hands on his scalp (he recently shaved it nearly clean.)

"Oh give it a rest," I implored, "You're makin' a fuss outta nothin'."

"You're not at all concerned about our kid having a b-- a boyfriend?"

"She has a boy, who is her friend. Big difference."

"At that age..." he grumbled, "You know how boys are."

"With a girl two years younger than him? I highly doubt it. Come on, Kit, don't be gross."

"I'm just being a good parent. I want to know who my little girl is spending time with."

"Come on," I said, "Dylan's smart, and he's not 'your little girl,' he's just our Kid. Older and smarter than he looks, and only ours for a short time. Not really long enough to..."

"To what?"

"I don't know," I said, "I just have more faith in him, or her, than you seem to."

He frowned and things got chilly or a while. I tried to switch the subject by mentioning that they were asking me to take on some new projects at work, put in a few more hours, because one of the girls up and quit and I have seniority. I feel like I can handle it - I came in with a bit of base knowledge and have made it my business to learn the ins and outs of what they do there. And it's a bit exciting to find a bit more purpose while I'm here, but that all seemed to roll over him.

Over dinner, we made pleasant small talk with Young Tyler, found out about his hobbies and what he likes about school, the sorts of things you can ask a 12 1/2-year-old boy. Seeing him sit next to Dylivia, I'll admit, kind of hammered home the physical age difference and made the prospect of them having more of a... romantic relationship (shudder) more creepy for me. It made me see Kitty's point of view, even if she is being characteristically alarmist.

But the way they talked was as peers, and it was the most engaged and active I've seen the Kid with anyone besides Meadow since we got here. And even including her, since Tyler - who seemed like he might not have too many other friends - brought out the Dylan side, the violent video game playing, superhero movie watching sometimes rough-around-the-edges side he may feel the need to suppress to make Kitty, his teachers and his peers happy. It was touching to see that Tyler could maybe almost see the person Dylan is inside.

Tyler's dad came to pick him up and we exchanged contact information. We were getting into bed later when Kitty returned to the subject.

"We need to tell Olivia she's too young to date."

I groaned. "She's not dating. She probably doesn't think anything close to that. She just has a friend, okay?"

"I just want to establish the ground rules. No dating until she's... I don't know."

"Until her body matches her mind," I offered.

"Well-put," he nodded.

"I have the same rule by the way."

"Judith, don't kid me," he said. I officially gave Kitty permission to refer to me as Judith in private just to keep things simple even though I've never let go of my real name and probably never will, just as I probably won't get around to changing him over to "Adrian" even though he gets the masculine pronouns now.

"I'm sorry honey," I said in a teasing pout and wrapping my arms around him. I leaned up and gave him a long, deep kiss, followed by a few shorter ones, and then another where his tongue worked its way past my lips.

He started to run his hand along the length of my thigh and up to my butt. He was making his way to my breasts when I pulled back.

"Not just yet."

"You're killing me, lady," he said, embarrassed.

I kissed him again. "It'll be worth the wait." We made out a bit more before turning off the lights, and then I could tell he made his way to the bathroom to masturbate and get it out of his system.

So, this is my life.



P.S. We told Dylan the next day about our little rule, and he got very upset. Not because he wants to date Tyler, I think, but more because it's his life and we're not supposed to tell him how to live it. He's a sharp kid but it's very hard to make even the sharpest kid see an adult's perspective sometimes. But we stood together on it and I'm pretty proud of Kitty and me for that. Holy shit, we might just be actually getting good at parenting together.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Annette/Benjamin: Good news?

I wish that the title of this entry referred to finding a publisher for my first novel - I've been quiet here for the past few months because I wanted to focus all my writing energy on that, but it's just getting started going through slush piles and the like.  I'm expecting a lot of rejections, but hopefully some will come with advice.

No, the good news is that after half a year of temping, contact work, and going on interview after interview, Marybeth has found a job!  It is, I think, the sort of job I'd have hoped to land if I had gone to Harvard and graduated with a degree in English, an assistant editor at a small but growing publishing house, which is getting a little extra attention thanks to some celebrity or other mentioning one of their books in an interview.  

It's great!

It's also in Chicago.

I was kind of prepared for Marybeth's job hunt leading her, and us, out of Boston; there are publishers and academic jobs here, but also a lot of grads looking for them.  In fact, I was kind of looking forward to moving back to New York if that's where it took us.  Nobody there remembers me aside from Benny/Jordan, which would have been a very weird thing on its own, sure, but there are a lot of places and things I'd like to make my places again. 

I've heard a lot of nice things about Chicago, too, although admittedly not so much from Cary.  He's kind of got his own reasons for not really loving the experience, but every once in a while he mentions a nice restaurant that Elaine introduced him to, or that going to Wrigley and the Cubs' victory parade was cool.  

Again, if I got into Marybeth's position, which was my goal before that second visit to the Inn, I'd probably be super excited to get an exciting new job in a big new city, especially if I got to hang around with someone I liked as much as I like Marybeth.

But that's the thing I can't avoid thinking about right now - it's not my life, and it's never going to be.  It's hers, and while I haven't just been with her in order to live vicariously, I do feel pangs of envy.  I could be on my way to doing this, but because some bitch decided that stealing one person's life wasn't enough (and another decided to follow suit), I'm a guy bussing tables in a burger bar, crossing my fingers that when the new location opens, I might get a promotion to full manager.  I was going to be a smart, respected woman, and now...

Well, that's what made the conversation when Marybeth got the job kind of weird for her as much as me.  I'm the one with the penis, but there are a lot of times when it doesn't seem like I'm the guy in the relationship with Marybeth.  I am well aware of how stupid and nineteenth-century it sounds, but there are a lot of ways in which the world is set up so that a good-looking guy who nevertheless hasn't personally achieved as much as his girlfriend is considered kind of pathetic in a way that isn't the case for a woman when you flip the situation around.  I generally don't feel that way, but I get some comments, and Marybeth gets a lot (Christmas at her place, with her parents, was a bonanza for both of us).  It's a weird thing, like guys who are already physically bigger and advantaged in society will somehow be looked down upon if they choose to be with a woman a couple years older or who outshines them in any way other than attractiveness, which is just stupidly weak.  It makes no sense!

But it's part of how the world works, and it meant that when she was telling me that she got this offer, I could see in her head that while she wasn't just going to let her boyfriend veto it as a matter of course, she seemed at least a little unsure of whether asking me to move with her was too much to ask.  I'm not saying every guy would just say yes immediately and then basically inform his girlfriend that they were moving, but a lot more would, and I think that Marybeth was bracing herself for a breakup in case I felt she was overstepping her bounds by even considering it.

I admit, I wasn't quite as immediate and enthusiastic with the "that's fantastic, and of course I'll come to Chicago with you!" as the perfect boyfriend would have been.  It wasn't really about male ego (I'm not entirely sure I've got one of those yet), as much as a brief flash of resentment that, once again, someone else's actions were going to make me drop whatever life I'd built and had to a new city and start all over again.  It wouldn't be a complete reset to zero like another trip to the Inn would be, but it's exhausting, and I feel like I've just gotten settled in.

She saw that, and started back-pedaling, and I immediately felt like shit, promising her that I'd follow her anywhere, and meaning it.  I love this woman and would really hate the idea of her selling herself short for me,  and I've spent the past few days trying to make sure she understands it.

And this morning, I happily went to the airport with her, sincerely telling her that I would trust her implicitly as she does the apartment hunting there while I work my last few shifts after giving my two weeks' notice, spending the rest of the time packing up the apartment so that I can rent a van and drive or stuff halfway across the country. 

I'm just hoping, that while I get all this done, that Marybeth's absence doesn't make me question the decision.  It's easy to uproot oneself when you're looking the person you love in the eyes, a bit less so when you've just called to break the news to someone like Missy who had been your friend and partner in weirdness for two years and two lives.


Friday, January 20, 2017

Jonah/Krystle: Ready to pop

Missy went to Australia for New Year's before coming back to Boston, and when I said that was a lot of flying, even in first class, she agreed, saying that by the time you're almost home, you aren't sad about vacation being over any more, you just want this flight to be done.  I can relate, and I was never particularly excited about being a woman, let alone pregnant!

The word thing is, there are bits of things I miss.  Don't get me wrong, it was hard as heck to go to work and be on my feet for most of the night, but I was kind of independent, managing things, and that felt good.  Since coming up here, though, my "job" has been having a safe, healthy pregnancy, and as much as it's tough to actively do a whole lot else now that I've blown up to the size of a small car, I'm kind of bored.

I thought that maybe I could help Krystle out with "being me", but the fact that someone else was in my life for a year before Krystle and so many of my friends went to the Inn and don't expect her to act like me means it's not so urgent.  And, in other stuff, I'm behind.  Like, I was never really that great at math, but the guy before Krystle was, so he signed up for some higher-level courses, and it turns out that Krystle has surprised herself with how good she is.  She'd always treated knowing how much had been shoved into her panties within a few dollars by the end of the night, no matter how wasted she was, as just a weird little trick, but it turns out she's good with numbers generally.  It's kind of made studying for the SATs and applying to colleges weird - she does well on math, writing not so much, so while I'm thinking that after graduation, I always wanted to study religion and follow in Grandpa's footsteps, she knows she's going to do better on other parts of the tests and interviews.  I'm writing the application essays, but she's going to be doing the interviews, and neither of us can really talk much about the biggest experiences in our lives.

So, I just kind of sit around being pregnant.  Not so much sitting around - I try to get some chores done and run the occasional errand, but that's become a little harder as I'm waddling and there's snow on the ground.  I kind of also think that my parents don't necessarily want me leaving the house too much.  They haven't told the neighbors that "Jonah" knocked me up, instead coming up with a cover story that I'm some sort of poor cousin from the city whom they have graciously agreed to take in during this difficult time, but people whisper.  They haven't hit on the truth, or as much of the truth as the Inn's magic will let them believe, but there's been a lot of talk about Dad.  It makes me sick to consider, and while he says he doesn't mind taking the hit to his reputation if it lets me have a future, I hate the idea.

Mom really hates it.  I only really see how it affects her at church, where other people will stare at her and me, sometimes nodding to each other (no matter who in the family I sit next to, people seem to think it means something), and I've heard some variation of a conversation with Mom saying Christian charity is more important than how people talk a dozen times.  Only two sermons about the evils of sex out of wedlock and how bad it is for a child to not have both a mother and a father.  I can't say I liked being used as a bad example; it makes me both want to shout about how people don't know the whole story and remember to lean more heavily on forgiveness and helping out if I ever earn my way behind a pulpit.

My friends have mostly been great.  I talk with Moira, Missy, and Benjamin on-line all the time, and Missy in particular likes sending me baby toys - she'll see something and just drop it in the mail, even if she's in Hong Kong or Australia.  My friends from school who also went to the Inn kind of split along gender lines - I freak the guys out, especially the ones that turned into girls themselves, I guess because they know that this could have happened to them, and their white male brains don't want to face it.  The girls are mostly cool, though - they're really polite about asking if they can touch my belly, a lot more so than other people, maybe because they know what is like to have other people acting like they've got a claim on your body.  I also think that most of them wound up in relatively good situations, and hanging out with me gives them more of a connection to something they remember fondly that they're afraid will fade as we go to college and just have regular lives.  And sometimes they're just curious about what the future has in store when they start families.  I don't know how many will follow up in terms of promised babysitting, but we'll see.

And then there's Krystle.

It was really weird between us at first.  She was still mad at me for he not being able to get back to her life for an extra year and how she'll have a lot to explain when she does, but the fact that I am living her life and maybe something else where the baby's concerned gives her some sort of maternal/paternal instinct to protect us.  Even if she would really rather I'd used a condom, she's the one that tells me that sometimes a woman with not much else but a good body will have to use it as a resource, and while people will try and make you feel bad, it's mostly just hypocritical B.S.  Nobody, she says, ever told the bouncers outside the strip club that they shouldn't exploit the fact that they're six and a half feet of solid muscle.

I also seem to be the only person she can relax around. Dad calls it "code-switching" when she starts talking black, for lack of a better description, although technically the actual switching had been talking like the mostly-white people around her ever since first becoming someone else a year and a half ago, and you can see that he and Mom don't really approve of the bad grammar, pronunciation, and seeming to put random words in bold.  I didn't really like it at first either - I mostly grew up around white people and my folks said I'd never get anywhere if I sounded ignorant - but I got used to hearing it living Krystle's life (Momma Kamen may talk like that a bit, but I'd never think of her as dumb), so I don't look down on her when she breaks it out (I hope).  I guess I'm the one she can be herself with, even if it's just swearing a bunch when we play Xbox, since even the other folks who know about the Inn aren't really cool with her being that way.

Plus, I guess she's gotten to the point where she likes being me for a while.  She enjoys being on the basketball team, and though she's hated the part of school that's taking standardized tests, I've seen her looking at community college courses for when we switch back, because knowing you can do something is a big deal, and I guess she never knew she could do more than turn a guy's head before.  She also says high school is a lot more fun when you know just which parts don't matter.  It's also apparently a lot of fun when a girl who also went to the Inn whispers that "Jonah" really knows what a girl likes.

Despite that, like I said, she's making plans for afterward, which is a relief.  As much as I know I'm not going to feel like a whale anymore any day now, I still can't wait to be myself again.


Jonah/Krystle: 31 Weeks

This has been sitting in "Drafts" for a couple of months, seeming too personal for most of that time, but if I'm going to post again, I guess I'd better put it up...

How do you know I've turned into a for-real pregnant woman?  I'm measuring it in weeks, rather than the "nine months" that people who haven't discussed milestones with an OB/GYN use.

With a due date in January, I'm pretty big by now, although I've got a ways to go and grow still, and I don't know if I'm living up to Penny's claims that former guys make the craziest pregnant ladies, but there are certainly days when I feel completely insane.  I cried at a movie the other night, and it wasn't some thing about somebody's husband dying of cancer - it was Mad Max Fury Road, a spectacularly bad idea on Moira's part.  I mean, it's a fantastic movie, but as soon as Moira remembered what happened to Splendid, she tried to drag me out, although it was Furiosa realizing she had brought the wives to certain doom that got me.  All that on top of not being the great way to celebrate a woman thwarting a bloated jerk Moira thought it would be, either.

I am so going to miss President Obama.  Mom and Dad always said I wouldn't appreciate what he meant for them, but given what the next four years may hold, I just might, and if nothing else, I don't know how I could have gotten through all this without Obamacare.  Doctors' visits are expensive, and even bosses as understanding as Ashlyn don't give hourly employees that kind of benefit.

It's crazy.  As much as I haven't had to spend too much of my salary on just being pregnant - Karla handed me down some maternity wear, though I've had to buy new bras as these breasts somehow got even bigger - it's insanely stressful, and I just wake up in the middle of the night wondering how I'm going to screw this up.  Not being a mother, but just carrying this baby and giving birth.

I didn't worry about being a mother because Krystle (Krystle-slash-Jonah, if she wrote here) was ahead of the game in searching out adoption agencies, even going so far as to start making assortments for me to meet prospective couples, but that was before yesterday, when I was getting dressed for work when my phone buzzed with a text.  "were on r way 2 c u", it said, then "ur mom looking in ur computer is f-ed up", and "told her all shed believe".

I stared at the phone for a few minutes, and then collapsed on the floor.  As prone to panic as I am over this whole situation, I really never have much thought to what would happen if we didn't get away with it.   I just assumed that I would have this baby, go back to the Inn, and whole Mom and Dad would think I'd been weird for a while, we'd eventually get back to normal, and they would never know how I had let them down.

It's going to sound weird, but my first instinct was to make sure they thought it wasn't their son's fault.  I called Moira to say I wouldn't be in because my baby's father and his parents were making a surprise visit, and then I looked in the closet to see what there was.  Should I dress like a slut, or would it just make them more disappointed in "me" to think that their son had been taken in by someone so transparent?  I shouldn't look reluctant.  I messed around with makeup, trying to look younger so that we could say we were mistaken about each other's ages, tried heels for the first time in months, and chose a top that really emphasized my cleavage.  How could a kid resist those when their owner showed an interest?  Then I puked for the first time in a few weeks, hating the idea of lying to my family.

There was no time to change back, though, and soon the doorbell was ringing.  I went through the charade of asking who was there, Krystle said "Jonah", and when I said if come down, I heard Dad say they would come up.

It's weird to see my family as a family, including Krystle in the part of me.  She's kind of uncomfortable, my mom is furious, and my dad finds his eyes drawn to my chest, and suddenly emphasizing that seems like a really bad idea.  I grab the neckline of my top and try to pull it closed, and he looks away.  Krystle tries her best to stifle a laugh at that.

"Something funny, young man?"

"No, uh, Mom, not really."

Mom looks at me, not happy with what she sees.  "If it was another teenager, I could almost understand it, but you..."  She looks around the apartment, sees the kids' things.  "And it's not even your first!"

Krystle started to look upset, so I said it was, but my sister...  Mom makes a little sound, Dad shakes his head, and I want to defend her, but see Krystle rolling her eyes and I guess that would be out of character.  Mom looks like she's going to say something else, but Dad steps in, saying he just doesn't understand how this happened.  Krystle snorts, saying he should know where babies come from, and I cringe.  Dad gives her a look, but then says he just wants to know how we got to that point.  Was it an on-line thing, who went where, all that.

We don't really have a story beyond the barest facts, so we improvise - "he" took a day trip to Boston during April Vacation, we ducked into a doorway during a downpour, more people did, so bits of us were touching...  I guess we had lunch, something about a date from a friend of Krystle's...  Then she was going off about it being a threesome, and I'm thinking, whoa, is that something Krystle does?  Or maybe it's just a way to get Mom to shout that she doesn't want to hear any more; she's been in my home long enough to know what pushes Mom's buttons. 

It gets her to change the subject, at least, saying that how "that one" ended up pregnant didn't matter, but that she wasn't going to let us give her grandchild up to some stranger.  She takes another look around the room and asks me if I had any plans to get a place of my own, since "Jonah" says I have a job.  Krystle jumps in there, saying "she does, but it is NOT going to have a nursery".  Mom looks at her and says that's hardly your decision, so I try and salvage it, saying I'm not ready.  Dad asks if I think "he" is, and I'm totem Berwyn answering it the way I hope Krystle might, saying a kid still in high school isn't, and the way I think they would want me to if I were my right self, stumbling.  That's when Mom says she wasn't exactly ready to be one of those women raising her grandchild,  that she couldn't imagine me ever putting her in that situation, and that's when I start crying like crazy.

I don't feel like I'm having any sorry of revelation or change of mind or anything, but I let it spoil out that I never wanted to disappoint her, or either of them, but it didn't feel life I had a choice.  Mom says...  Well, I forget how she says that even if she's known Krystle existed, it wouldn't be possible for her to be disappointed in that girl, but it's crushing, and I almost can't help telling them everything. 

It gets real quiet, and Dad seems shaken, not quite believing it, but kind of rolling everything I'd said around in his head.  Mom takes a moment and decides to go with "how dare you suggest I don't know my own son", while Krystle gives me this open-handed "you crazy?" look. I sigh, feeling a little more crushed, because I hadn't done this as a long shot but just because I'd had to, and now I'd made things worse.

Then Dad asked a question, and I answered, and then there was another, and a third, and Mom really didn't know what to say, which gave Dad a chance to tell me to pack some things, because I was coming with them. 

Mom said no way, but Dad told her that this was how it was always ending anyway - they weren't just going to leave this girl waiting tables and riding the subway and trying to fit a seventh person into a two-bedroom apartment,  especially with the baby due in the middle of winter, were they?  And if I was telling the truth, my friends - who, remember, were acting awful weird for about a year - might be able to verify it.

I ran up to hug them both, which was awkward in different ways - Dad didn't seem to entirely believe me, so it wasn't entirely like his son hugging him, and Mom was very reluctant to show any potential for affection to this girl who had messed up her family's life.  I wobbled on the heels, and gratefully whipped them off to throw across the room, explaining that I never wore them but was trying to scare them off.  I practically forgot to close the door before getting into sweatpants and a hoodie.  Neither Krystle or her family had a real suitcase, so I threw some things into a couple of Karla's shopping bags, including the sneakers Missy got me and some stuff out of the laundry.

My folks hadn't changed my mind when I got back out, so I ran to the door before they did, thinking of all the people I'd have to call.  I was pretty sure Ashlyn would forgive my quitting on such short notice, although Moira would be a more difficult conversation, more so than Jordan/Missy and Annette/Benjamin because she didn't know why I would just up and leave with the guy who knocked me up right away.  Nor would Momma Kamen, but I figured she might secretly be a bit relieved to have a little more breathing room, as well as expecting some impulsive, not great-looking decision-making from Krystle. 

Who, seeing how things had switched around, felt free to drop out of character.  "How the f--- you get them to go for that?  I spent like three f---in' months before tryin' to get through!"

I didn't have an answer beyond what everyone says about it sometimes being possible at big changes, which disappointed her.  "Well, s---.  Thanks to Karla, finding out that your daughter's knocked up ain't no big thing to Momma.  B----."

Mom and Dad started to scold her about language, but seeing their "sun" suddenly talk like a lower-class woman who spotted stripping more out of necessity than lack of interest seemed to have just as much effect on them as the pregnant woman making a reasonable case that she was really their son.  It wound up being pretty quiet on the way to the car and on the ride back to New Hampshire. 

And now I'm home, and it's weird.  Krystle and I both went to my bedroom at first, until we decide I should probably take the spare room for appearances.  Dinner was uncomfortable.  This is going to take some getting used to. 


Tyler/Juidth: Kudos, I guess

I just read Simon's last post and... wow. I mean, not that he did it per se... as long as he's conscientious about it that's totally his call. I've been mulling things over for months without reaching a firm conclusion, and I am not gonna say that's a better or healthier way of doing things. But the way he went about it... I don't think I could ever be like that. Sure, I occasionally dabbled in casual hookups as a man, but as a woman I guess I'm a lot more... protective, is probably the word.

Kitty has weighed in with some playful but not-so-meaningless jibes about how I'm too walled off in that area. It's just weird for me. I've been a woman for two of the past three years... I'm as familiar and comfortable with the equipment as I'm ever going to be. I've come to terms with the idea that if I want sex again - maybe in my entire lifetime - waiting to be male again might not be the way to go, since there's no guarantee of that (with my luck.) The way things are between me and Kit, I might be joining Simon on that side sooner than later, and yet... I'm still holding out.

I can see he takes it a little personally, but he's getting very into the "closed-off, let's not talk about it" male persona he's building up for himself so it's hard to drag it out of him. It's a discussion I'd rather not have: why am I so reluctant to jump back into bed with him, when we've been literal bedmates since we got here, plus everything we did before that.

"Let's just have some fun," he'll say, "It'll be like old times."

"Things are different now," I say... "I'm older, tired. Busy." Excuses, excuses. And I've openly talked about wanting to try rekindling what we had, but we need to deal with the fact that, a month ago, he confessed that he "loved" me - not that he was attracted to me, or that he was interested in me or liked me. Love. That was a heavy word, and I'm not sure that whatever I feel for him matches that.

This ain't like Meg pretending to love Wade back when she was Tasha. Kit knows who I am, knows me as well as anybody at this point. Fair to say he can make an informed statement.

There was a moment at Christmas when I was ready, but it seems to have passed, at least for now.

Am I wrong to want a bit more passion, desire, drive? Not to take that step because we feel like we have to, but because I can't resist? (That's partly why I'm genuinely impressed by Simon. He wanted, he got.) Not like it's impossible to infuse my situation with a bit more heat, but... so far, things are just running too chilly.

Part of me thinks our life is too complicated to try anything more than what we already got. Say we try it and things go bad and we can't even stand to look at each other anymore? We still have to be "married" and raise "our" kid for a while. And then we don't even know what comes next. We're working without a net here.

But... shit. I get it. I look over at him at dinner or in bed, and he smiles that goofy grin and I think "This guy's all right." I feel safe and comfortable and I could wrap my arms around him, which is a big enough leap.

One of these days I'll probably crack, but not yet.


Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Simon/Joy: Quick and dirty

A few nights ago, I found my way down to a sports bar I've passed often on my way home from work. Usually I don't go out without the ladies in tow but they aren't really sports fans and I had the urge to bask in some testosterone. I went in and got a Bud... I should note at this time that I had a point to look hot. I was wearing my gold plunging neck top, which I find tantalizes and distracts from the fact that Joy didn't leave me much in the cleavage department. I had a short, tight skirt on, the kind that when you wear and sit it you need to keep your legs clamped tightly one over the other because you know the second you shift you're going to flash some panty. My hair was tussled and my make up was... not overdone I think, just a little eyeliner and lipstick, plus some contouring on my cheeks, just the extent of my "sexy" skills gleaned from the odd Vogue.

The place was packed for the playoff game, Steelers-KC. I found a couple of guys watching, both tall (well, taller than me) ex-frat looking guys. I ordered a plate of wings and approached. In my most adorable lost kitten voice I said, "Excuse me, sorry to bug you but... I ordered these for my friends, but they didn't show up and I don't really like them. Would you be interested...?"

Of course they were, and not just in the wings. They practically begged me to stay. I acted like I didn't really know anything about football and they practically fought each other to explain it to me, to seem more impressive. What a couple of jokers. They bought my next two or three beers and, aside from falling for my "idiot" routine, were decent company.

By the end of the night I was drunk and happy (to say the least) and I told one that if the Chiefs won he could get my number. He was getting really familiar, brushing his hands all down my arm while we talked over the noise, he was telling me about his BS job or whatever, I wasn't really listening. Of course the Steelers won, although it was close and I was just relieved the Chiefs choked. I told him, "Sorry KC, no number for you..."

He started going aw, you can't just tease a guy like that, and I laughed and said obviously I just did... but I was still here, so for the time being he didn't need a number to talk to me, so if he had an offer I was all ears.

He took me out front and showed me his ride, a 2016 Porsche. I laughed and said, as if I've never ridden in a Porsche before, and besides he's been drinking all might so it's not likely I was gonna get in that car with him.

But hey, I said, my house is just a short walk away, but it's scary for a defenseless little woman like me to go alone.

Once we got in we were all over each other... I mean, he was all over me, and I didn't have to do much but I didn't fight him off much. This was the point of the night, just to keep going further and see how far I could get.

Turns out... pretty damn far! We nuded up in a hurry. I love the look he gave me when he peeled off my panties and saw my fresh, clean shaven pussy. He shoved his fingers in, a bit roughly, to warm me up. It was a little weird actually because suddenly I was like... not in control. At all. For the first time ever. And that's actually pretty exciting once it stops being alarming.

I must have looked pretty impressed by what he was packing because he grinned and gave me this nod like, "Yeah, I get that a lot." I dunno if it actually was big, because I'm smaller now than I used to be... I can't exactly compare based on my hand size... but I gave it a firm tug just for reference and helped roll a condom onto it as part of what little foreplay we did, and it was similar to Joey's. Thick and veiny.

Why did I want this? I stopped asking myself and just chalked it up to Joy's body sending signals to my brain, ones that have been impossible to ignore lately. It doesn't make me gay if I've got a pussy that craves being touched and played with. More and more lately I've been fantasizing about trying it with somebody, because going this long without getting laid, when you know any man on earth would walk into traffic to get with you is just a crime. Why deny myself? What am I saving myself for? No shame in this game.

He had an okay body or whatever I guess... maybe he hits the gym a bit... I think he might even shave his body hair off because dude was smooth. I can't even really describe his face. I still can't put my finger on calling a man "sexy." Like this wasn't even the "I can admit Ryan Reynolds is sexy" kind of situation. Maybe he was ugly, I don't even know. I was drunk and he seemed ok.

So all I had to do was lay back and spread my thin little legs and let him in... and since I was drink and horny as hell my area was wet and warm and welcoming to him.

The feeling was... I mean, I knew part of what to expect from "Mariah" but it was different. It felt good slipping into me, and then it was like... "This part of me that was empty is filled in." It was further inside of me than I've ever let anything go before, and it has a mind of its own... or, at least the person attached to the cock does.

I thought it would hurt but it didn't. I thought I would feel more of it but there's only a few points of contact. But the good news is they're all VERY intense points, and it feels just GREAT to be touched there. I feel like I let him down in the tits department... he was grabbing at my chest, but when I'm on my back they totally cease to exist. My nips were nice and pointy though. Besides that he didn't do anything extra, basically just pumping into me while I was on my back, but in all the excitement of doing it for the first time, I came pretty quickly, so that was awesome. Because of that it felt much more satisfying overall than the time it takes to get myself there. It was also kinda neat to feel him come while inside me... thankfully contained by the rubber.

The awkward part was cuddling afterward. He wrapped his arm around me and I was like... can I get you to excuse yourself? I'm not into it and that's making it weird. But he smelled pretty nice. God being attracted to men is weird.

Still, that's one less thing to wonder about. He went back to the bar around 3 AM to get his car and forgot I hadn't bothered to give him my number. He gave me his card if I ever wanna go again. But I could just as easily throw myself at some other guy if I need to.