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CisterWife © 2017 by Jessica Mandella

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First Edition November 2017

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Table of Contents

CisterWife

Limited Copying Grant.

Introduction.  
Chapter 1. Choir Practice.

Chapter 2. Connections.

Chapter 3. Ironic Hypocrisy.

Chapter 4. Game Central.

Chapter 5. One Two Three One Two Three Blink.

Chapter 6. What an Offer.

Chapter 7. The Big Reveal.

Chapter 8. Waking Nightmare.

Chapter 9. White Lace.

Chapter 10. Period Music.

Chapter 11. Christmas Presents.

Chapter 12. Birthday Presence.

About Jessica Mandella.

### CisterWife

#### A TransLesbian Romance

By Jessica Mandella

**Introduction.**

CisGender is the opposite of TransGender. The way some gay people talk about opposite gender body parts makes me blush, but not for terminology. As an ally, I'm mortified by bigotry within our ranks. One cister actually called me a 'trag-hag'!

This story exposes CisGender bigotry. The issue is so important, I've made this novella essentially free, granting permission to copy and share its PDF from my site. I've also held back on my usual SciFi, to be more inclusive. There's still a little high tech, but that's normal for this present age...and I haven't lost my taste for crazy hot, with happy endings.

Here's a sweet lesbian romance about a girl who doesn't happen to have a pussy.

**Chapter 1. Choir Practice.**

This huge church accepts everyone. I'm finally home. The rainbow sign makes me feel safe. My wife of twenty-two years is now my BFF. I came out to her as a TransGender lesbian two years ago. She won't touch me. I fought it. I bargained. I tried to find a loophole. Now I'm finally accepting it. I've waited 42 years for the first woman in my life to love me as a woman. It won't be my wife Christy.

As a child, the bullies tried to beat the little girl out of what they saw as my little boy body. It half worked. I tried to die inside, but only got buried alive. It was a form of multiple personality disorder, a kind of replacement. Life hurt too much, so I tried to cease to exist, to let some stupid male stereotype inherit my brain. It didn't work. I'm still here, after all those years of trying to hide the real me. Cliché, right? But true.

What's not cliché is that I look like I'm 22, not 42. Bless my nearly immortal mother for that. She still looks young and hot. She beats men away with a stick, attracting women with lipstick. Yeah, she came out after Daddy went to heaven. Many hadn't added T to LGB at that time yet. She never recognized the warning signs of my trying to die inside and be replaced by a horrific gender stereotype. She called me a dick, never thinking to rescue me from it.

Christy and I have finally entered the social scene again...a Welcoming and Affirming church. She's looking for a man. I'm looking for a lesbian. We're not predators, but we can't help it if we have 'that hungry vibe'. We're both so needy. Many twin sisters are closer to each other than to the two men they marry. That's us. But unlike the twins, we need to live together. You see, we still have a transcendent love. How I wish it had fleshly elements!

Don't get me wrong. She tried. Before we met she was raped by something that claimed to be a TransGender lesbian. When I came to terms with myself I came out to her. Ever since, we can't get intimate without her throwing up, passing out or both. It's not normal to bleed at other times of the lunar cycle. It's the PTSD triggering it. I can't do that to her anymore. She needs a man...a real man. I love her enough to let her have him, whoever he is.

I hope and pray she loves me enough to let me have my lesbian lover, whoever she is. Christy said she's all for it. Is she? I don't want to lose my BFF of twenty years. I don't ask for much in life, just a happy marriage of four people who deeply love and respect each other, two of whom we've not yet met. Yeah. I'm screwed.

At least I never have to work a day in my life anymore. Christy and I are both living off of my portfolio. I won't say what the biggest company is, but it's got its talons deep in nearly every computer in the world. Now I can focus on my full time job of waking up as me.

* * * *

Here we are in choir practice. Everywhere we go, a choir leader lusts after our voices. Christy is an opera quality soprano with a soft pop edge. As a tenor I'm about the same. I used to have an awesome falsetto soprano range until a recent illness damaged my vocal cords. I still have good tenor range though. I hate it that I can't sound like a woman anymore, since only a few months after I came out.

Life is full of cruel ironies. Now I admit to myself I'm a woman, I look and sound like a man. I cried about it to a well-meaning gay friend. He slapped me and told me to man up. He messed with the wrong dyke. A body builder with a black belt is no match for a woman scorned. After he apologized, I released him and popped his shoulder back into place. He asked me to teach him to fight like that. I told him he couldn't afford the lifetime of dues. Yeah I'm a bitch.

I don't have to count measures. I can see the music on the page and hear it. My entrance is on time and in tune, as always. Music doesn't judge me. Music has no male or female. It has only four genders: Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass. And all four make sweet music together.

How I wish the world were like that. I can't count the number of gay men who call me homophobic when I don't swoon at their hitting on me. I tell them I'm a TransLesbian. They tell me I'm a straight phobic coward perving on lesbians. A sister feminist wouldn't treat me like that. If I'm so straight, why did bullies beat me until I finally put one of them on heroic life support? I should have listened to that last one. He didn't call me a fag. He called me a fem. They called him an ambulance.

That's some weird crap to think about, while singing worship music. Well, they do call Him God of Armies. Focus, Ellie Z, focus! Yeah, that's my real name. My parents named me after my dad Eli Zadok, and they messed up the birth certificate. I think the typist was a prophet.

* * * *

Choir is getting out. Our choir director, Ida Winthrop taps me on the shoulder. "Eli, do you not know where to put your folder?"

"It's pronounced Ellie, just like a girl's name, and I was hoping I could take the music home to practice. I've just joined, and I've got some catching up to do. Besides, I always like to practice at home anyway."

Ida smiles. "Wow, Ellie. I'm impressed with your zeal. See you Sunday morning."

"See you then, Dr. Winthrop."

"It's Ida to my friends. I hope that's what you'll call me."

"Ida it is, Dr. Winthrop, I mean, Ida." She laughs and swats me with a paper.

Now I go out to the fellowship hall to find my wife, who's disappeared. There she is, talking to the ringer in the bass section. I'd been admiring his deep, booming resonant sound during rehearsal. He's got such a lovely voice, but he came on a little strong in the mix, even in the soft sections, like he was showing off. At first I thought he was showing off for the alto in purple hair, obviously the most beautiful woman in the choir, but he never looked her way once, like she was invisible. Now I know who he was showing off to impress...my wife.

I walk toward her as he continues shaking her hand inappropriately too long. In one smooth motion, he turns Christy so she doesn't see me, placing the jutting out wall between me and her. If this were a bar, that would mean he's staking his claim over her, telling me to go take a hike. He seems to have experience at this sort of thing. The purple haired alto is walking too fast, looking back, not watching where she's going. She collides full speed with the show-off bass singer, splashing a whole cup of hot scalding coffee all over his chest, dousing his fancy shirt.

"Sandra, you b..." George stops himself, but it's clear what he was going to say. I guess she did see him after all. She must have some experience in these matters too...and with him.

Sandra gushes in a bright cheerful voice. "Oh, George, I didn't see you. I had no idea Mrs. Zadok was back here. Have you met her husband, El? He's the new tenor. I'm sure you musical men have a lot to talk about. Come with me Christy, you've got a few drops of coffee on your blouse. The ladies room is right back here, let's rinse that before a stain sets in."

My wife follows her purple haired savior into the ladies room to cold wash the few drops of coffee out before it sets.

Now I have to chat nice and friendly with a man I already hold in contempt, not because my wife is so fond of him, but because he's so fond of himself. This isn't going to end well for Christy. He's going to hurt her, and there's nothing I can do about it. If I get in his way, she'll say I'm cock-blocking him cause I'm jealous. Why couldn't a nice man find her first, instead of this vulture? After twenty years, I know her all too well. She's chosen him. I have to stand by and watch him burn her.

"Hi. I'm George Bentley. Your wife gave me her card. I'll be calling her a lot. So, El, what's that short for, Elvira, mistress of the night?"

I strike with one knuckle, crushing his solar plexus. He collapses to the floor. I shout out. "Let's get this gentleman a chair, he sang his heart out and now he's dizzy! We can't lose our star bass!"

Everyone crowds around him, giving him all sorts of attention. I walk away from Gorge Bentley. He looks up at me like I'm a vampire. There are respectful and disrespectful ways to ask for a date with someone's wife. I taught him to consider more respectful ways in the future.

"Looks like I missed all the fun!" It's Sandra. She shakes my hand, turning it over to see my knuckle still a little flushed red. "I thought so. Solar plexus works every time. Your wife won't listen to me. She says his interests are purely musical. It's going to get ugly. He usually takes a couple months to soften them up before he makes the kill. He could move faster, but he prides himself on his patience. He gets off on the process of the hunt, stretching it out as much as possible."

My brain goes on strike, so I just stare at her.

She offers me her hand again. "Sandra Belle at your service. While your wife goes off chatting with bonehead after choir each time, sit with me. I'll be your friend. Trust me. You're gonna need one."

I'm stunned. An offer of friendship comes from this vision of incredible beauty. I can't believe how attracted I am to Sandra. I'm not being a hypocrite. I'd thrill watching a loving man give my wife what she can't accept from me.

I still love Christy dearly, and seeing her fulfilled would fulfill me, even if I'm not the one doing it. Since she won't have me, it's up to someone else now. But George is not loving. He'll hurt her. It'll hurt me to see that.

Sandra is loving. She cares about other people like they were her own heart. Oh, how I wish she were gay! She's so pretty, so feminine, so downright girly, the word dyke doesn't even belong in the same language as her name.

There's no way she could ever desire a woman like me. She's going to make some man very happy someday. I still need a friend. I'll take her up on it, and try not to fall completely in love with her. The one person I'm crazy attracted to is a straight girl. I'm so fucked.

I'm also questioning my own integrity. If I want to be taken seriously as a woman, why am I attracted to a CisGender woman? Why not a TransGirl like me? I don't have any answers, but I do know this. I was aware of her extraordinary good looks, but she hadn't turned my heart inside out until she did her best to protect Christy from the vulture. That kind of compassion for a total stranger did something to me. It turned her pretty into beautiful, her likable into lovable.

**Chapter 2. Connections.**

Choir is getting out again. After twelve weeks of her bolting out the door with George Bentley, my wife waits for me instead by the choir room door. Sandra Belle looks at me funny. She knows.

Sure enough, as I get to the door, Christy is glowing. She hands me the car keys. It feels like she just handed me her wedding ring. "I'm going to fetch a bite with George, then we're going over his place to practice our duet in the cantata. We need to work on our timing. He has a habit of rushing the beat, you know."

I can't help myself. "His timing has been pretty slow if you ask me. It took him long enough. I'd say I'm happy for you, but I already know him too well."

"What's that supposed to mean? Ellie Zadok, are you getting jealous?"

"No Christy. I'm getting sad. I'm already weeping for you."

"Too late to change our deal, Ellie. You didn't find any dykes. I found a man. You lose. I win. Get over it." Christy bounces away, her golden coils dancing behind her back.

* * * *

I spot Sandra at the coffee machine. I'm blown away by her. Long wavy purple hair, pink bubblegum lipstick, abundant breasts almost pouring out of a super tight lilac body suit for a top, partially covered in good taste by a white suit jacket that hugs her waist and flares at the hips. Her white jeans look painted on her. Lilac is the color of her fingernails, I bet her toenails too.

I'm staring at her. People will think I'm letching on her. That may be true, but more than that, I'm crushing on her. It's her kind heart that conquered mine without a battle. For a few months now, we've had long conversations every Sunday. We talk about soul mates, true love, poetry, art, music, God and even erotic romance books. She's so merciful! She never brings up the elephant in the room, the budding romance between my wife and the vulture.

As we get our coffee, I inhale her fragrance. My head spins. It's not her perfume. It's her. It must be her pheromones. My heart is pounding.

She looks in my eyes, sees my face flushed and finally speaks. "So you DO know."

I'm afraid of how much she knows, so I try to dodge. "I do know what?"

Do I know that over the last few months I've been developing a huge schoolgirl crush on her? Yes. Do I know she's straight? She must be. Next to the word 'feminine' in the dictionary is her picture. I may be a TransGender woman, but I don't crave men. I'm a lesbian. I crave a woman. I crave her.

Sandra chuffs a single half chuckle. "You do know your wife will finally fuck him today. What's your deal? Are you a cuckold? Do you get off on that sort of thing, or is she just used to getting whatever the hell she wants?"

Blinking back tears, I know I'm blushing something fierce. "I'm not comfortable talking about this here. Is there somewhere we can go?"

Sandra whispers to me. "Your wife won't be home for hours. When he first makes a conquest, George is a very thorough, patient and imaginative lover. My last partner told me so. You need a friend right now, someone to talk to. We can go to my place. I promise I won't try to seduce you. I'm gay."

As we make our way to her car, my tears won't stop. Just as I mistook this beautiful lipstick lesbian for a straight woman, Sandra has mistaken me for a straight man, imprisoning me in the 'friend zone'. Now two women are out of my league and off limits to me. My 20-year BFF Christy, and my new gay friend Sandra.

Sandra gets it all wrong. "Oh, honey, how could you not know today was the day? You're crying a river, and I'm the one who broke the news to you."

I have to rescue her from the guilt. "I knew. You have no idea what I'm really going through right now."

How can I tell her the one person she thought was safe has been perving on her, not just with lustful eyes, but much worse, with a needy, deeply admiring heart?

* * * *

Finally seated in her living room, Sandra does her best to make me comfortable. As she takes my hands, my chest is hammering. I'm feeling a rush of something I thought I'd never feel again. It's the blossom of young love. I fought so hard against this. I can't help it. She's too wonderful. I wish I could be with her not only on Sundays, but always and forever. I'm a love-struck little girl way over her head in deep waters.

Sandra sees it. "Your eyes are dilated, Ellie. It's natural to cling to any life raft in the storm. Don't start falling in love with me. I'm gay. I only date women. You need a friend right now, and I can't walk away. You'll come over every Sunday afternoon while your wife is out fucking George. You're enough of a gentleman to keep your hands to yourself. But I must ask something extraordinary of you. Please keep your heart to yourself. You can share from it, but don't give it to me. You're so wounded right now, your heart feels soft like a woman. But I can only receive a heart who actually IS a woman. Please understand. Now I'm going to hold you, and you're going to cry until you have no more tears left in you. You need to let it all out."

* * * *

The weeks go by. She has me over every Sunday afternoon. Am I being a dildo for sensing how amazing she is while she holds me? No. I refuse to be judged for being a lesbian. Am I being dishonest by crying in her arms while the only woman I had loved for twenty years gets her brains fucked out by the vulture of the bass section? Hell no. My pain is real. It's just not what she might assume.

I'm not upset that my wife as a free woman is getting some. I'm upset that as any kind of woman I've never had any. I always did to her, always did for her. For two years she's not even let me do that. So much of my sensuality is in my breasts. Even before I came out, Christy would never kiss them. Any touch of physical affection lit up my body like a woman. Her subconscious awareness of my feminine sensuality grossed her out worse than if she'd accidentally touched the slimy red dick of an aroused dog. The bullies tried to beat the girl to death. She tried to starve the girl to death. That's why I'm crying. I'm so empty inside!

For forty-two years, I've never been loved as who I am. As soon as I came up for air to receive that love, Christy slammed steel doors in my face. I feel like I'm dying from lack of affection. I love Sandra more and more for caring about my pain, for putting up with my oceans of tears. I don't know why I'm so afraid of coming out to her. Sandra's sisterly consoling comfort is the only affection I've known since opening up my true woman's heart.

I have my own fear to blame for this. As long as I don't tell her, there's a secret hope she might say yes someday. She's so selfless and pure in her love. She warned me not to fall in love with her, far too late. I'm hopelessly lost in admiration. I'm locked in the closet, parked illegally in the friend zone with my beloved, beautiful Sandra, who could never want me.

**Chapter 3. Ironic Hypocrisy.**

The coffee strikes my face hard in a hot stream. I'm lucky Christy didn't let go of the mug or I'd need stitches.

Christy is raging. "Who the fuck is she, El? Nobody tells his wife he's happy about her affair, unless he has a little something on the side already. When the hell were you going to tell me?"

I'm stunned. "Christy, we talked about this. You told me you were going after George. With every cougar in church chasing him, you had a challenge ahead of you. I'm happy you won the competition. Congratulations on landing George. Most women regard him as a high value catch."

Christy is red-faced pissed. "There it is again, that nonchalance! Nobody gets over me that easy unless I'm being replaced. You fucking prick! Who is she, and how long have you been fucking her behind my back?"

I'm sniffing. "I'm not fucking anybody. I'm just fucked. You wanna know what we do at her place, while you're getting your 'holier than thou' stuffed by George? I cry and she holds me. That's it. The only bodily fluids I'm sharing with her are snot and tears."

Christy's voice is low now, almost menacing. "Oh, so that's how it is. This is worse than I feared. You're not fucking her. You're falling in love with her. I know you. I'm losing my BFF. How soon 'til you move in with her and leave me with all the bills?"

I'm ashamed to admit it, but that thought has some appeal. Maybe starting over isn't such a bad idea. I just need to figure out a way to come out to Sandra without pissing her off. I've been so safe for her, in the friend zone. How can I tell her I'm a woman who's already given herself to her in love? Coming out to Christy was a total disaster. Coming out to Sandra terrifies me even more.

My on-stage role really did love Christy in a romantic way, and I'd have loved her as the real woman behind that role, but Christy would have none of me. I need love. Am I so bad? So I gave myself again, this time as a woman, instead of as a convincing yet fictitious man. I gave myself to a lesbian, just like me. Only she came out, unlike me. Why can't Sandra see who I am inside? We talk about girly stuff all the time!

Why does Sandra put up with a silly woman like me with such a frighteningly powerful schoolgirl crush on her? Of course I'm a schoolgirl. As a woman I was in a coma since grade school!

Well, to be fair, I did keep coming up for air again and again...only to be beaten unconscious by the transphobic cruelty of haters, including my wife of twenty years. When she called the real me a demon, I didn't want to exist anymore. So I'd buried myself...again, and again, and again, and again.

I tried to die as a woman, leaving my body in my will to the fictitious male heroic romantic character I created and played on the stage of life. It didn't work. I'm still here. The bitch is back.

Despite what I may look like on the outside, emotionally I'm just a little girl. I'm jailbait. Could a strong, sexy, beautiful, wonderful woman like Sandra ever want a fragile little training bra brat like me?

I suddenly know the answer. "OK Christy, here's the deal. I'll still pay the bills. I have no idea where I'll live, but you need room here with George. I refuse to get in your way. I'm packing two airport rollers. I'll rent a truck for the rest when I have somewhere to put it all."

Christy changes in an instant from cocky to frightened. "What if George doesn't want to move in with me?"

I may regret it, but I can't resist. I swiftly swing around behind her, grab her breasts for a brief second and set her down on the chair. "Then he's a zombie. Any straight man or lesbian with a pulse would move in with you, even after hearing you snore!"

Christy is so shocked she doesn't get angry, throw up or pass out. She listens instead. "OK Ellie, you got a point. I pretty much have my pick of the choir, and he knows it. He'd be crapping on his own plate not to say yes to moving in with me. You get settled in first. I don't want you moving back while he's here. That would spoil my fun."

**Chapter 4. Game Central.**

Thank God they all wear headphones. It's usually quiet here except for the frantic flurry of computer keys tapping when the kids are in an on-line virtual battle. I don't see how they get any college work done. I'm not complaining. They agreed to rent the room to me before they found out my age. The conversation when I rented the place was insane. I remember it in vivid detail.

* * * *

Geoff is the homeowner and dungeon master. His face lights up seeing the wad of cash paying a year in advance. "I was happy to sign that agreement. It's standard, no bullshit. I just need to see your ID now, El."

I take out my driver's license and show it to him. His face goes white. "Dude, you're not 42. Are you a cop or something?"

I get pissed. "Tell those guys in there with the good smelling sticky to come give me a hit. I'll take a toke in front of you. No, I'm not a cop."

Geoff grins ear to hear, heaving a huge sigh of relief. "I get it. You hung onto your first fake ID for years. Why? Are you like an illegal alien, or something cool like that?"

After dealing with TransPhobia I have no patience for AgePhobia. It's a simple law of physics that a huge wall of bullshit can only be broken through by a fast moving, much larger steaming pile of bullshit.

I grin a devious smirk. "It's expensive to get new IDs. I only do it once every twelve years. I have to fake my death, change my name and have lawyers move all my assets to my new identity. I'm four thousand eighty nine years old. I don't age. I'm trusting you Geoff, you can't tell anyone."

Geoff has a look of awed delight. "Your secret's safe with me, sir."

Just to cover my tracks, I continue. "One more thing. I'm a shape shifter. I'm really a woman. Sometimes when I have nightmares, I change back into my female form. If you see that, don't get freaked out. If I sleepwalk naked as a woman, act like you never saw it."

No flies on Geoff. He rolls with it. "No problem, m'Lady. I won't out you."

I give him an appreciative smile. "You're a true gentleman, Sir knight."

* * * *

In the weeks since then, I've caught myself wondering several times if everything I told Geoff is true in another parallel universe. Wow. This house of virtual gaming is getting to me. How cool is that!

* * * *

I never got the BFF I'd hoped for with Christy. I did with Sandra. This is so twisted. Being a lesbian, she must know what it's like to ache for a BFF, being afraid to come out to her.

* * * *

It's infectious, the gaming attitude. It's easy to be fearless when you're an avatar. You simply reboot and start over again. For me, I keep having to remind myself I get one shot at this. As Ru Paul says: Good luck, and don't fuck it up!

Yeah, I'm going to make my play. I still can't talk to her about it. Every time I try, my voice quits. I can sing, but I can't talk. Oh, we can talk for hours on end. I go over to her place and cry. She holds me. Oh God, how I ache to kiss her. I'm not in lust with her. I'm in love with her. But the lust issue has to come up before the whole package of romance can happen. How can I tell her I'm really a woman? How can I let her know I think of her twenty four seven?

I have a coward's plan. It's not much of a plan. It's an opening, and if she wants to push the door open from there and walk through it, she can do so. If she doesn't want to deal with it, she can ignore it without ever having to talk about it. What is this subtle conversation starter for a strictly optional discussion? A button. A pin. A lipstick.

It took so long for them to ship it to me, it probably came from Pluto rather than China. It's a simple identity statement summed up in a cute little lapel pin...a pink lipstick. It identifies my demographic identity perfectly. I'm a fellow lipstick lesbian. If she ignores it, she doesn't want me. If she comments on it, she wants me. No pressure on her, just an opportunity. We can stay BFFs like always, or we can become more, her choice. I'm offering myself to her silently. No strings, no pressure, no games. Simple and sweet.

* * * *

She's scaring me. I can barely think straight enough to sing. For me, that's like a redneck being too drunk to fish. That expression on her face is too complex. I can't figure it out. She hides it behind her poker face. She never gives me that poker face...it's only for others. Now it's for me. I'm locked out. She's late on an entrance. Ida shoots her a surprised look, and makes her own poker face. Nobody's going to say anything here. The air is thick with drama.

* * * *

"Take off that fucking pin before I rip it off and shove it up your ass!" Sandra's growl startles me from behind. There's murder in her eyes. I ran out here to escape her. It figures we'd both choose the same hiding place. Nobody uses the back door of the church. There's no parking back here.

I never should have worn that stupid lapel pin. I was safe in the friend zone. Now I've lost my only lifeline, my only real friend in all the world. Why did I have to fall in love with her? It's like that old Dave Mason song. I shouldn't-a-took more than she gave. She gave me her friendship. I gave her my whole heart. I had no idea my love could be such an Eww factor. I must be a whole lot more worthless than I ever suspected. Maybe the bullies were right trying to kill me off, cause I can't 'man-up'. I'm not gay or straight. I'm just an abomination.

Sandra's voice is a low growl. "I trusted you. You were perving on me the whole time. If you loved me, you'd be honest with me about it. This TransGender bullshit tells me what you've really been up to. You just wanted to fuck me. I must say, you're even more patient than George. You're a fucking sleaze ball hunter like him. Do the two of you have a wager? How much does he have to pay you if you get me in bed? Maybe we should team up, lie to him and split the take. Then you won't have to play anymore. I bet it taxed your patience pretending to be human with me. We can have a coming out party for you as a straight, homophobic asshole."

Something moves in my peripheral vision. I turn my head. It's George. "There you are. My Christy is having second thoughts. You put her up to it. I don't care who you are. Nobody takes back what's mine. I'm your alpha! I stole her from you fair and square, bitch!"

I see George throwing the sucker punch, but I've lost all will to defend myself. He connects. I go down. My head hits the doorknob. My head feels wet. It's my own blood. The last thing I see is Sandra's purple high heel boot connecting with Gorge's chest.

* * * *

It smells like alcohol in here. Alcohol and bleach. It's gross.

"Mr. Zadok. May I have a few words with you? I'm Detective Madison. I'm investigating the incident an hour ago at church. Before you ask, your vitals are good. You got quite a shiner there, and you needed seven stitches, but there's no swelling. Sandra called 911, saying you tripped, hit your head on the doorknob and landed on your face. Is that what happened?"

My brain is alert now. "Yes. Why would you doubt her?"

"George Bentley was taken in with three broken ribs. He claims he defended you against violent black-hooded homophobes. Sandra said he was nowhere near there. With no witnesses, we figured we better get your statement to try and make some sense out of all this."

"I don't know why he's lying, officer. I understand he has a long history of hunting other men's wives. I can only guess what really happened to him. I only saw Sandra. I stumbled on the outdoor carpet by the door. She tried to catch me but wasn't quick enough. My head hit the doorknob and seconds later her phone was out. Then I was out. She's my hero."

**Chapter 5. One Two Three One Two Three Blink.**

Captain's log, star-date...half past never. What's the point in dating it when nobody reads it anyway? Dating it, that's a joke. The word 'date' should be banned from virtual reality. Nobody needs to be reminded that nobody will EVER date them.

Who needs VR glasses when there's a 36-inch LED monitor and an endless supply of ecstasy? Tabs of E are cheap when you get them by the hundred. Of course you have to tell the dealer you're sponsoring a rave or he won't sell them to you. They take a dim view of people dying. I don't worry about trivial shit like that.

Taking E is like doing the Blink spell in WoW. It teleports you twenty yards ahead, further into the virtual world. Nobody likes my corner of SecondLife. They say it's more like Third World. It's depressing, just like me. My life now consists of an unbroken chain of tabs of E. Each one is a Blink spell, each one teleporting me one step further away from real life.

One two three, one two three blink. One two three, one two three blink. It's my own version of the Chandelier song, nowhere near as pretty as the original, not just cause Maddy doesn't dance in it. My version has a dark reality lurking within the constant unreality.

Every tab of E could be your last. I don't give a shit. Getting that fatal dose would be like winning the lottery. Maybe that's what I'm trying to do. Flat lining on E is one of the only ways I've ever heard of people dying with a smile on their face. I carry that grim wish with me into this perfect world. Isn't that what dystopians warn about? If you ever find a perfect world, don't join it cause you'll ruin it.

Welcome to my own virtual hell. I've ruined SecondLife. At least in my own little corner, in my own little chair, it sucks as bad as I do. I carry the stink with me.

The little ding indicator goes off. WTF? Somebody is commenting on my last post. The surprising event, more than the surprising sound, startles me, teleporting me backward miles and miles, yanking me out of this unreal hall of mirrors facing each other. Suddenly I'm not in the SecondLife universe anymore. I'm in my own disgustingly real, stinking, unbathed body, staring at a video monitor. I may as well get this over with. Geoff is the only one who interacts with me here. I never give him too many hits at once. I won't have his death on my conscience.

It's Sandra. She looks exactly like she does in real life. I bark at her. "What the hell are you doing here? You don't belong in Purgatory. You didn't do anything wrong." Yeah, that's the name of my SecondLife area. Purgatory.

Undaunted, Sandra stares at me from the big screen. "Isn't there something you'd like to say to me?"

I'm flummoxed, totally gob-smacked. "I haven't got a clue. There's nothing I could say you'd ever want to hear." I break the connection. I designed my on-line hell to never remind me that I never had a shot at heaven anyway. Here she is, rubbing my face in it. My custom control panel I wrote offers to hack her system and reformat her hard drive. I click no. Instead, I click the forgive icon. She'll receive a simple text message saying 'Forgive them, Father, they know not what they do'.

* * * *

I'm getting sick of this. For a year now she's been talking with me. It's not the intimate friendship we used to share as BFFs, but the cold-hearted impersonal formality of appropriate office banter. At the end of every lengthy and horrifically meaningless conversation, she logs off by asking me if I have anything I'd like to tell her. I always tell her no. She's trying to get me to apologize for falling in love with her. I refuse.

Even if the heartbreak kills me, I'll never regret it. After years of being wanted for my fictitious male character I wrote, buried alive in the ironic falsehood of the real world, I finally woke up and enjoyed a brief hope. That hope was the greatest pleasure I'd ever experienced as a woman. I got to enjoy that brief hope that Sandra could love me as a woman. To regret that would be like blasphemy. It made not just my body, but also my mind, heart, emotions and even spirit tingle with excitement.

That was enough of a life. If I die now, I'll be content with having gotten to experience that. The brief thrill of having hope, in love as a woman, was more fulfilling than being wanted as an artificial man.

* * * *

She asks, as she always does. "Before I sign off, isn't there something you'd like to say to me?"

I can finally take it no more. "Yes, I have something to say. You have to face me in person, on the red brick walkway in front of your house, and do your last gloating in the flesh. I have no idea what dicks have ever done to you, but you have to face the full humanity of taking it out on me as your revenge. Then I'll give up my body, just as I gave up my heart."

Sandra sneers. "Well delivered. That line was exactly how a woman would write it. Someday I'd like to meet your ghostwriter. Unlike you, I'd probably like her. I hope you paid her well. She's actually pretty good. It's been a year since I've seen you in person. I'm strong enough now to handle it. You can come over. I'll meet you outside. We'll see how well you perform without a professional quality script in your hands."

**Chapter 6. What an Offer.**

I've never seen Sandra so angry. Finally meeting in person again, unprotected by the safety of virtual space, we come bearing gifts for each other. I even showered. I'm bringing a bouquet of lilacs. She's bringing a football, wearing a team jersey that says "Real Girls". Sandra throws the football at my head with a perfect arm. I know her. She expects me to drop the flowers and protect my head with my arms.

I hold onto the flowers for dear life, allowing the football to strike me in the face. My nose is bleeding. I'm dizzy, knocked to my knees. I know I pass out a lot. My emotions are too powerful. There's nothing turning it down. My female brain never got damaged and numb like men. I'm crawling to her, scraping my knees on the brick walkway. I finally get to her, reaching up to give her the flowers as high as I can with both hands. I can't see anything through my tears.

Sandra takes the flowers and smells them. "Well, at least something about you is real. The flowers aren't plastic. I can't say the same about your heart. It's as plastic as my ten-inch dildo. So here's the deal."

Having delivered the flowers, and honestly pretty dizzy, I lie down on the bricks. "The answer is yes. I don't care what the deal is, if only you'll let me see you again, I'll take it."

Sandra's throat emits a deep, low rolling dark laugh. "So, the big bad jock fooled around and fell in love? Too fucking bad. You lied to me. I trusted you. You perved on me the whole time I was helping you. You know why I wasn't afraid of you? I thought you were gay, and stuck in the closet. I figured that's why Christy dumped you for dingle balls. You're not gay. Your big secret is you're a jock trying to scam on naïve lipstick lesbians. I bet she dumped you for watching girl-girl porn like all straight jocks do."

I'm speechless. I've never seen such anger in anyone. "Sandra, before you tell me what your deal is, please tell me what's going on. Why are you so angry? Why do you think I'm a jock? I didn't even catch the football."

The purple haired love of my life speaks softly, not to sooth me, but to keep her words strictly between the two of us. "Only a testosterone brain damaged Neanderthal could carry out such an elaborate, manipulative plot to fuck a lesbian. Were you hoping someday you'd get to watch me with your wife? Did you want your own private girl-girl porn show? It's not gonna work, any more than what the jocks tried in high school."

I'm in a daze, answering. "My wife would sooner eat rat poison than pussy. What happened in high school?"

Rage fills Sandra's face again. "Three football stars forged letters from their dads, saying they were coming out as TransGender. The school was forced to let them use the girl's locker room. Our volleyball team was finishing up showering in there. Three guys tried to rape one girl. I got sent to Juvenile Hall for a month after putting all three jock bastards in the hospital. One guy had to get a kidney transplant. Fuckers deserved it. I got a new nickname. Death. Yeah, they all called me Death after that. Great high school nickname huh? Death."

Now rage is filling me. "Give me a list of their names. I'll make hackey sacks out of their balls."

Now she's sobbing. "If you care so much, why did you pull the same trick?"

My sigh is so deep it startles her. She's quiet as I explain. "Before I knew her, Christy had an experience with something that claimed to be a TransGender lesbian. It raped her. All my life, bullies tried to beat the little girl out of me. They knocked my real self into a coma, trying to become someone I'm not, someone I never was, someone I never should have had to try to convince myself to be. I was literally insane, spawning a false male multiple personality out of all that trauma."

Sandra's voice is quiet and trembling. "What happened with Christy?"

My answer is equally quiet. "I woke up. I came to terms with who I am. I came out to her. She freaked out on me. She can't touch me now without throwing up, passing out or both. You stopped a rape. She survived one. Her brain knows I had nothing to do with it. Her body blames me, cause I'm a TransGender lesbian. I'd waited 42 years to be loved as a woman. We went to church looking for real love. She looked for a man. I looked for a lesbian. So tell me, Sandra, what was the offer you wanted to make?"

"Oh, you poor sick little fuck." Sandra's not yelling. She's weeping. "I figured you're not gay, cause you're trying to score with me. I figured you for a straight, deceitful jock."

I take a deep breath. "So what kind of deal were you willing to offer a straight, deceitful jock?"

Sandra looks up in my eyes, fighting shame. "Straight jocks would never take it up the ass. If you're really a woman like you say, prove it. You let me take you up the ass for ten minutes with my ten inch strap-on, and then I'd let you fuck me."

I know my eyes are wide as I respond. "I have a counter-offer. You take me with your strap-on as long and as hard as you want. Make me bleed. I don't care. For your part of the bargain, all you have to do is kiss me. I need to feel your heart in that kiss. I'll give you my heart too. If you think I kiss like a man, I'll never bother you again. If you find I kiss like a woman, I don't need to give you my dick. I'll give you my mouth as a woman, giving myself to you with that mouth. You won't ever have to touch my dick, but please consider kissing my breasts."

Sandra starts weeping. "All my life, I just wanted a woman to love me as a woman, not as a placeholder for a man."

I'm sniffing. "What a coincidence. Me too. You've got that now. This woman bleeding before you loves you with all her heart. Do you want her or not?"

Sandra helps me up off the ground. "What about Christy? Twenty years is a long time."

I shrug. "I don't know if she'll ever want either of us, cause we're women. That doesn't mean we can't want each other."

Sandra gasps. "But I've never had a relationship with a man before!"

I crumple back to the ground in uncontrollable sobbing. She knows what she said.

* * * *

I'm waking up in her arms. I'd passed out crying in her arms twice before, both times when she was still comforting me every week. I don't remember how we got here in her living room. "Sandra, how did we get here?"

"I carried you, Ellie. I'm stronger than you thought. You're softer than I thought. I'm ready, El. I'm ready to love you."

"Are you sure, Sandra? I'm not CisGender. I don't have a pussy. Isn't that what lesbians look for in a woman?"

"Don't stereotype me Ellie. What I look for in a woman is a woman's heart."

"I'm unworthy of you. There should be a separate club for fellow TransGender lesbians to find each other, just so beautiful women like you don't have to wade through all the dicks."

"Why stop there, Ellie? How about separate nightclubs just for white people and just for black people? We could have separate churches, restaurants and bathrooms for each color, religion and nationality too! Think of the possibilities! Face it, Ellie. You didn't fall in love with someone like me. You fell in love with me."

"You were so anti Trans. You used to spit at the mention, like we were all some cruel deception invented to break the back of women's rights. "

"You can't tell anyone this, El. Many Cis-Dykes think of TransGender Lesbians like those lying football player locker room rapists trying to get their hands on lesbian pussy. We may talk about LGBT, but for us the T stands for token. You're the frozen microwave lobster a rat hole restaurant serves, so seeing lobster on the menu gives the illusion of a classy place."

"Sandra please..."

She charges on. "We used to tell a joke. What's another name for a TransGender Lesbian? A phobic straight watching girl-girl porn. Yeah, the joke makes the rounds. It's not even funny. It's just cruel. I was such a disgusting TransPhobic jock I told it too. I've got a new joke for you. What's another name for a lesbian who hates TransGender women? A male pattern brain damaged man with a pussy, who thinks he's a dyke."

"Please don't say stuff like that, Sandra, you're better than that. Those sisters don't know any better. They still don't sneak into showers and try to rape people."

"No, Ellie. We just hurt girls like you and make you give up on living. Your roommates told me about your abusing E. They said you weren't even trying to get high. You were hoping to win the lottery by dying. That's not right, bitch! I'd eventually have come around and you wouldn't be here anymore. You gave your heart to me. It's mine, not yours. You had no right to kill it."

"I can't believe anyone wants it. This heart has been unwanted for 42 years, Sandra. Why now?"

"Because I finally found out whose heart it really is, and it was offered to me, Ellie."

"If you knew all that, why didn't you believe in my being a woman?"

"Oh, I don't know, El, maybe it's cause I just don't understand four thousand year old shape shifters very well. I'm only a youngster."

I'm smiling, embarrassed. "Oh, that. I was getting AgePhobic crap. It was bullshit, so I gave him a big steaming pile in return. What harm could it do?"

"What harm? It almost killed you, El. Geoff told me E can't hurt you cause you're an immortal. I finally got the others to let your E dealer know it was all for you. Even he didn't want to see you die. You scared me."

"So you did care. Why didn't you believe me if you knew so much?"

"I believed you El, and at the same time I didn't. Like when I held you, thinking you were a gay man crying in my arms after coming out to your wife. I was secretly wishing you were straight so I could at least be tempted to have my way with you. You had me questioning my orientation, young lady!"

"You needed to question it, Sandra. You only wanted CisWomen with real pussies. At first I had hope, then I got used to thinking all any lesbians want is pussies, not hearts. I'm so sorry I wanted to die. That was wrong of me. Do you forgive me?"

"You're unreal, Ellie. My TransPhobia almost takes you out, using heartbreak as the murder weapon, and you're asking me to forgive you. You might as well be handing me a beer singing 'Stand By Your Man', while I leave a half disassembled bike engine in the tub, watch the game on TV and ignore you. You're so lipstick, my eyes are stained pink looking at you!"

"You make a girl blush, Sandra."

**Chapter 7. The Big Reveal.**

"I'm sorry Ellie. I thought I could do this, but I can't."

"Do what? Sandra, we haven't done anything yet. We're fully clothed, sitting on the bed. I'm in your arms, a woman in love with you. If I was willing to die for you, don't you think I'd be willing to wait for you? Talk to me honey. What's going on? Are you afraid to let me see you naked?"

My purple haired almost-lover takes a deep breath. "I'm so eager to let you see me naked. You're a woman. Why shouldn't you see me naked?"

I already know, but I have to ask, just to make sure. "Then what's the problem?"

My sweet, dear Sandra bursts into crying. Even her crying, as sad as it is, sounds like music. "I'm afraid to see you naked. I can't get that image of bright red, angry cocks in the shower room out of my head. They were positioning to get closer to the girl I secretly crushed on. One of those horrible red bulbous hate-stuffed sausages got within an inch of her before I could react. I kicked him so hard, he flew seven feet in a straight line out of the shower and struck the nearest locker set."

My smile shocks her. "I have a surprise for you, my dear."

She's wary, actually downright terrified. "You're scaring me. You have no idea how grateful I've been this last month you never asked for sex. You never even let me see you naked. Your hair, all grown out long, looks like the head of a woman. I don't know how you did it, but your face looks soft and feminine. You even stuff tissue on your chest. Don't think I haven't noticed. It's all much appreciated."

"That's what you say now. After your reaction to my coming out, I hope you won't be pissed off at me again."

"You haven't done anything wrong, Ellie. You've let me fall in love with you as a woman, without making me face your genitals. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you're wearing a bra. You dress in billowy tents so I never have to see one misleadingly masculine outline of your body."

"Sandra, this is my surprise for you. My body isn't as masculine as you imagine. You knew this whole last year I was popping E like candy."

"Yeah, don't remind me. I never would have forgiven myself if you'd died."

"That's not the only medicine I've hammered on for a year. I've been on massive therapeutic doses of DMSO driven female and growth hormones, apoptosis and healing factors. With all the weird stuff he's given me, I've transformed so much faster than other girls going through puberty. That's why I never died. It wasn't the medicine. It was the hope embodied by my taking all that medicine. Of course the side effects were pretty bizarre."

Sandra's eyes widen. "What kind of side effects?"

I give her a soft, feminine smile. "My bones ached. At times they actually popped, like they'd been dislocated. My breasts ached and hurt. My body was changing so fast, I almost felt sunburned. My lower range is the same, but the healing factors repaired my vocal cords. I'm comfortable speaking in a soprano voice again. I took ten times the inert form of estrogen that prevents cancer. Geoff's science lab fed me massive amounts of elastin and healing factors. He claims he's a technical prophet of God. Whatever he is, he's a total sweetheart. He forgave my bullshit, saying it was more prophetic than I realized."

"What healing factors?"

"I signed an agreement, but it has to do with making tons of new stem cells. All my old scars are gone. Are you ready for the big reveal?"

"I'm scared, Ellie. What am I going to see?"

"I've kept myself strapped down and hidden away. My measurements are 34B-24-35. In a year my hips will reach 38 inches. I'll be in a C or D cup. My living strap-on is tucked safely away in my special designed lacy lingerie. With nothing but my custom panties on, I look like a CisWoman. I'll never approach you with a dick. I DO want you to suckle my big boobs until they make milk for you. I want to nurse you."

"I don't deserve you, Ellie. You never should have had to do all that, just so I'd make love to you as a woman. I'm so ashamed."

"Don't be. You know full well I've never blamed Christy for her TransTrauma. Neither do I blame you. It is what it is. I need your physical affection as a woman. Only one part of this futa girl's body is off limits to you. We protected it for the sake of children someday, but I can do without being touched there. I have so many other sensitive places all over me now. I yearn to be touched every place but one."

"Take it off, El. I want to see the woman I'm dreaming about."

I'm so nervous. I'm not sexy at all as I remove my clothing. I'd gone for the Victorian look, hiding everything under way too much cloth. It was a woman's fashion, but an almost comically modest one. Now I'm unraveling it all, so slowly. My lady grants me mercy by breathing hard as I remove each successive layer.

With nothing else left but my tuck-n-hide panties, I unhook the straps binding my breasts. My big perky boobs spring out and sway before her eyes. She lunges, taking my left nipple into her mouth. My brain explodes in light.

Pure pleasure is blasting up my spine, out my breast and into her hungry mouth. If it weren't for the medicine my body would be numb from all the E. The hormones and healing factors won the battle. My whole body is quaking in this completely feminine orgasm. My gasping is high, shrill and out of control. My scream is a woman's scream as I keep coming.

Her hands are all over my body, grasping my breasts, letting my hard, protruding nipples pull between her fingers. She knows how to prolong a woman's climax. She has me under her spell, thank God. Her groping, molesting hands are running up and down my exaggerated, voluptuous hourglass figure. She honors me with such lust I'm coming again. I'm shrieking, howling in delight.

Taking E was my magic potion transporting me physically into the virtual world. Taking girlie medicine was my magic potion transporting me physically into her world. After having to play Dr. Jekyll all those years, being Mrs. Hot feels incredible! My only regret is not being able to offer my true love an aromatic, hot wet pussy.

She doesn't know it yet. Just as I'd insisted Christy should get to have a real man, I'll move heaven and earth to find us a CisterWife, so Sandra can eat pussy again. I know my own limitations. I want my loving partner to have it all. She can have her cake and eat it too. I'll have to work on that later. Right now I can give her a woman's heart and mouth.

"Sandra, I'm naked here and you're still dressed. Please catch up with me. Let me give you my mouth."

"No, Ellie. I'm nowhere near done with you yet. I'm all dressed up for dinner. You're the meal."

Suddenly I'm a scared little girl. I've never been the object of any prolonged physical affection before. After yearning with such intensity, what if my body doesn't respond with that kind of intensity?

"What if my boobs are the exception, and those wells of energy run dry?" Oh crap, I didn't mean to say that last part out loud!

Sandra grabs both of my boobs, calming and exciting me. "Listen to me very carefully, little girl. You've outgrown your little training bra quite a while ago. You're in the big girl pool now with big girl love. You have energy pathways running all over your body in a network that puts the internet to shame. I'm going to teach you how sensitive your nerves really are. Your wells will never run dry. Believe me, little girl. I'm about to make you a woman."

Thrusting my boobs harder into my dear Sandra's hands I surrender. "I'm yours. Do what you want to me."

"Will you obey me completely, Ellie, no matter what I tell you to do?"

"Of course not, Sandra. No matter how you begged, I'd never hurt or disrespect you."

"Wow, girl! You're not a sub, you're just over your head in love with me!"

"Way over my head, Sandra. I've always had the biggest schoolgirl crush on you, and now it's fully deepened into a life and death romantic love. I'll never deny you what you want, unless it conflicts with what you need. I've always cared more about you than about what you think of me. In my heart, I come second."

"In my heart, and in my bed, Ellie, you come first, second, third and almost more times than you can stand, before I even want to come. You've got a hole in you the size of Texas from being starved of affection all your life. If it takes me the rest of my life, I'm going to pour in my love to fill that hole. You can't stop me from loving you, so you might as well receive it."

"I'll be very upset if this is a hallucination and I'm still in purgatory."

"Don't even think such a thing! How horrible! Lay back on the bed, Ellie. I'm going to show you for once in your life how a lady deserves to be treated."

My purple haired true love places my arms above my head, with my elbows out. I'm her female action figure. She can pose me how she likes. When did she buy pink fuzzy rope? Tied up this way, my boobs are thrust out. Now she ties my knees wide apart.

Looking down over myself, I have to admit. I look hot.

She takes her phone, snaps a picture of me so helpless and lets me see her sending it to Geoff. "He's healed you, sight unseen. He deserves to know what heaven he's given to me."

Her phone bleeps. She shows me the text. "Happy un-birthday. She's all yours. G."

A tear streaks down my beloved's face. "He suffered the standard testosterone brain damage. It made his body numb, disconnected his subconscious and muffled his emotions, yet by his actions he proves the most unselfish love as a stand-up guy, a loyal and true friend. Men are a mystery to me."

I'm in awe. "I used to play one on stage, and I don't understand them either."

We both heave a sigh. Sandra steals my attention back by licking my right nipple. A spider web of soft lightning connects my nipple to my waist. A delightful fire orbits around my wide hips. My eyes roll closed and my boobs explode in living light. Wow. I really do scream like a girl.

I can hear Sandra's voice in my head, saying that's cause I really am a girl. Is that simply what she would say? Can she hear me? Am I imagining this? I find myself lost in her so easily.

My purple haired lover backs all the way up and grabs my two big toes, squeezing them in her two fists. The symbology of this action isn't lost on me. My climax smashes through me with savage force, surprising my body parts, leaving my lady nuts far behind.

There's no mess, only power. She's only started on me, and already she's managed to separate my orgasm from ejaculation. I'm a multi-orgasmic woman now, ready to receive countless peaks along the way of her loving. No time to feel sorry for real men...I'm enjoying this too much!

She's licking under my feet. It would tickle, but the touch is so personal it just feels amazing. Her fingers lightly caress their way up my calves, owning them. Oh fuck, her mouth is open on my inner thigh!

Bright lights of an oncoming galaxy are smashing through my head. I feel closer to her than to my own skin. Here it is, that feeling of déjà vu again, like I've dreamed of being inside her head, and now she's taken a can opener to mine. Let her take me, rewrite me, tidy me up inside...she has the password to my soul! She's driving me insane and I love it.

Oh God, let her own me forever more! You're the love owning me through her! How pure and beautiful is her heart, too perfect for this world, yet I'd be lost without her being here for me. Sandra my love, I'm yours.

My other inner thigh is exploding in pleasure. Her mouth brings me from glory to glory to glory. Never coming down, only holding the plateau to drive yet further and higher. Her hands all over me honor and flatter me with every lustful touch. Her kisses liberally sprinkled around my hips and into my narrow waist prove to me my female hourglass figure.

Her attention to my hips is so possessive, like she wants me to bear her child between them. My body knows this, dragging my mind behind it, bathing me in delight as another wave overtakes me. Orgasm is a tide rolling in, higher and higher, wave after wave. I've lost count.

Her hands are running over my tiny waist, out over my wide hips, down and up my legs, again and again. This tactile appreciation builds a fire inside me, flaring up, igniting in resplendent joy. My hips are a whirlpool of ball lightning again, pouring up my spine. My head throws back and my voice howls in a soprano anthem of glee.

Sandra pushes her tongue into my navel. Somehow this collapses a dam of passion, washing my flatlands away inside my mind. My hips are bouncing upward toward her face like a paint shaker, wringing out chills up my back.

As I'm dropping down through the clouds from this unexpected release, her hands grasp onto my ample boobs, kneading them in unabashed lust for their nurturing bounty.

Her lips take my right nipple in, my areola and as much of my massive tit flesh as she can suck between her lips. My chest is thrusting into her mouth of its own volition. She has command of my body now. She's making it convulse in wild abandon. My vision clears, my ears clear and I finally hear the screams I've been emitting.

She thrusts me back into the stratosphere by sucking on my left breast now, with equal hunger for my motherly love. My spine is a shower of star fire, shooting up through my brain. I feel her brain sitting right inside of mine, like an ultraviolet lighthouse. I can't tell experience from reality, or whether there's even any difference between the two.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any more intense, she lifts her mouth off from my tit and coos into my ear. "Oh, my Ellie, my darling woman, I'm so in love with you!"

Every sun in the cosmos explodes at once. The climax of all orgasms thunders through me in one instant detonation. All is brilliant joy, unspeakable pleasure, incomprehensible delight as affection pours into me from this sister life, my dear soul mate. A wolf howls in the distance. It's my own voice. The universe ceases to exist.

* * * *

I'm being spooned. Lips are kissing my neck. My long hair pours over the pillow and mingles like waterfalls with soft, long warm hair of another. I see the purple wisps of it in my peripheral vision. She's holding me. I'm in her arms, in her heart and by some miracle, in her life now. This is heaven with her, here on earth. She is heaven for me.

My voice trembles as I speak softly into her ear. "I'm so in love with you, my Sandra. My heart is yours. I'm not even frightened anymore to give myself to you so completely. Love has a spirit, mind, heart and body...you."

* * * *

Morning light streams in the window, setting an ultraviolet aura around her lilac hair. So many times I'd wanted to taste her, to kiss her. When I was afraid to come out to her, I wrestled with how to tell her what I wanted. I almost told her she'd never see my dick, but I'd give her my mouth for the rest of my life. It would have been the truth, even before my feminizing makeover. A girl wants what a girl needs. And I need her in my mouth.

My nipples are so hard, thinking about what I'm about to do. She's taken all of me as a woman, and I've still not yet ever tasted her. She'll complain and want to wash up if I don't do it backwards. Yes, backwards it is. In this meal, desert comes first.

Sandra's legs have managed to thrust off the blankets. I know I roast anyone in bed with me. This is perfect. Her sweet, wet glistening platinum blonde pubic muff tells me what her natural hair color is. She's so consistent, I actually expected purple. This is how she won't worry about how clean she is. I'll start by cleaning her so well she'll have 'that fresh feeling' douche companies promise in their commercials. I'm so hungry for her.

In one lapping lick, I finally know the taste of my dear sweet Sandra. My head is spinning in this intoxication. She moans, thrusting her pelvis hard into my mouth. Her clit is out like a proud little soldier, and my lips suck her in. I'm suckling her clit, running my tongue around and over her, licking to the side of her all around.

Instinctively, my tongue laps around the arch under her clit, like it was her balls or something. She shrieks and splashes delicious savory broth into my mouth, some squirting out over my face. I never want to wash my face again. I want to wear her aroma like a badge of personal worth. I'm the girl who is so unbelievably privileged as to taste this beautiful woman so intimately.

My tears come unbidden, I'm weeping in joy. I sniff, and thrust my tongue into her hot wet chamber. Her thighs clamp onto my skull in the most blessed vice grip of joy. My tongue feels her tunnel walls pulsing, convulsing and wriggling as she howls in delight. Now I remain almost perfectly still, save for my hands grabbing her breasts to maintain her aloft in the heavens.

My true love is awake, and she hasn't thrust me out from heaven back into purgatory. She must be accepting of my affections. Now my tongue begins moving in and out of her again, twirling and scooping, gathering up her exquisite elixir for me to swallow. I'm drinking of her ever-flowing love, from her most intimate treasure. I'm lost in her, and have never felt so found.

My hands begin roaming over her voluptuous figure, just as she had done to me last night. I know how incredible that feels, knowing the woman you love is excited by your curves. Not all TransGender women can experience it. Any other TransGirl must be content with a lover being excited about her body's sensitivity, regardless of her shape. I'm so beyond fortunate.

This is the greatest honor, the most undeserved privilege, to be drinking from her wellspring of love. My open mouth and twirling tongue move and lap over her thighs to gather up her sauce that had escaped. I need the joy she pours out for me to become a part of my body. If ever I can't believe my good fortune, the memory of her taste will carry me through.

I'm moving back to her sweet pussy, in a desperate, passionate lover's kiss of intimacy. She probably can't hear my thoughts, but she can feel my feelings through my mouth, and it overwhelms her as much as it does me. She screams, locks her thighs onto my head and drowns me once again in the greatest joy of my life. This time I don't hold still but get frantic, almost manic in my ministrations. I can't help myself. My fingers slip between my pouted lips and thrust up inside her, curling to caress the roughness of her front wall as my tongue seeks higher for the arch under her clit.

"Oh fucking God in heaven of love!" Sandra is singing a hymn of gratitude for me. I'm in emotional ecstasy to match her sensual ecstasy. We both come together. Dizzying spirals of pleasure shower through the two of us. I can't tell where my joy ends and hers begins. I don't need to be my own me as long as I'm with her.

As we sail back down together through the heights of bliss, a shocking thought startles me. I realize I'm craving to submit to her, to obey her, to let my body become her property. I wish she could make me pregnant. I don't know where these feelings come from, or where they're leading me, but wherever it is, I need to give her my all. I'm not worshiping her. I'm loving her in complete and total abandon. I've always held back a part of myself in relationship and now I don't want there to be any part of me that doesn't belong to her. I need to give myself completely to her. I'm so in love with her.

* * * *

As we hold each other, these feelings of submission overwhelm me again. I surprise, frighten and amaze myself with the next thing I tell her. "I have this unbearable craving to submit to you. Take ownership over me. I love you so much, I want to give you the ultimate gift: all of me. I want to be your property. Tell me to do something I don't want to do, just so I can obey you."

"Call me Mistress."

"Yes Mistress."

"No, Ellie, that won't do. I can't treat you like normal doms do. I think much too highly of you. Your desire is not a kinky fetish, but a response to overwhelming love for me. I have to find something you won't ever do unless I tell you, but I can't show you the slightest bit of disrespect or dishonor. This love provoking your desire to submit to me is too holy."

"Then what shall you order me to do, that I would never do, my beloved?"

"Show me your cock."

I collapse into a weeping, slobbering mess. She rubs my back, caressing my face, brushing the hair out of my eyes.

I'm heaving in sobs. "I can't do that. It would scare you. Those shower room devil cocks left too great a wound upon you. How can I bring back all that pain?"

"Submit to me, woman. You spoke. I accepted your gift. Now obey me."

I get up, and slowly begin to undo everything I'd ever done to set her at ease with me as a woman. The custom panties are coming off.

This may be the end of my being with her. I'm her property. She can cause that if she wishes. I did give myself completely to her. She may throw me away, but I'd never steal myself back from her. I belong to her. I'm not mine to steal.

Slowly, the panties drag down my hairless legs. Yes, I got laser and electrolysis in every place a girl doesn't want hair. I did it for her. Soon she might not want me anymore. I'm terrified. Those red jock devil shower room cocks were hard erections. I can't help myself. The feeling of obeying her, being exposed to her and submitting to her have my lady cock incredibly hard. If I have a hard on while she's frightened of it, she may mistake me for a man and never want to see me again.

"You are a very beautiful MiddleSex woman, and your girl cock is more lovely than any cock I've ever seen on a woman. Now put her away again in your panties. It's not you. It's me. I do honor her as the lovely futa girl cock she is. She is not a man's cock. She's a girl's cock."

I obey her, putting myself away again so she doesn't have to see me anymore. Then I fall to the floor, shuddering in silent tears. I don't dare sob out loud. I must show her I mean it.

"That must have been one of the hardest things you've ever done, my darling girl. It was something you would never do, yet you did it for me when I told you to do it. You've proved yourself to me as fully mine in love. You're not my sub. You're my property. There's a difference. My own pussy is also my property. I would never do anything to hurt her. Neither will I ever do anything to hurt you. I vow I'll never tell you to do anything you don't desperately need to do for your own good. And when I tell you to do it, I'll expect you to obey me, because you're mine. You've given yourself to me."

I throw my arms around her. "Thank you, Sandra, my darling!"

Then she pulls my chin up to see into her burning eyes. "There will come a time when I'll also give myself to you. I don't have the strength to do that yet. When I do, you must tell me to do what I need, even though I'd never do it otherwise. Now you must never tell anyone about our little arrangement. They'd misunderstand your great strength of self-giving as weakness and try to take advantage of you. You'd be forced to utterly destroy them. For mercy to the stupid and simple of the world, you must never tell how deeply you belong to me."

"What if we have a sister-wife, one with a real wet pussy for you to taste?"

"That's different. Then she's on the inside with us, and she'll keep our confidence. Why, Ellie, don't you feel you're enough for me?"

"No, Sandra. I know I'm not. You know how much I love losing myself within the intimate kiss of eating pussy. You miss that. Don't argue. You know it's true. Someday God will give you a Cis-sister-wife. I'll bless, celebrate and nurture your relationship with her."

"A CisterWife, spelled with a C. Wow, Ellie. I don't deserve this kind of love."

"None of us do, dear. That's why love can only be given, never earned."

**Chapter 8. Waking Nightmare.**

"Christy, please!" My own voice out loud startles me awake.

My darling Sandra is looking down at me, wide eyed. She's so loving, it's not a look of reproach or blame, not even one of accusation, only one of compassion and sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Ellie. Your heart must be so broken. I didn't realize how in love you still are with her."

I'm horrified at what my cheating heart did in my sleep to my sweet lesbian lover. I should know better than trying damage control with her. She knows me too well. But I'd lived a lie for so many years, fudging the truth is second nature to me. "It was just a nightmare Sandra. I'm OK now that I'm awake with you."

"Please don't try to bullshit me, Ellie. I know you. I can help you get through all the grieving of the heartbreak, as long as you open it up to me. What do you think she's doing right now? We slept in. She should be awake. I'm calling her. Give me your phone. That's not a request. That's an order, little woman."

On rare occasions she pulls rank. She knows what a deadly fierce feminist I am, but I've finally admitted to her the thrill I get submitting to her. "Yes, Mistress. I obey." She raises one eyebrow and holds out her hand to accept the phone.

Reaching over her to the nightstand, I make sure my right boob grazes her arm. Her sharp intake of air lets me know my feminine wiles are hitting their mark. A girl likes to be appreciated.

Suppressing a delighted smirk, Sandra scans down and dials Christy.

The first sound from speakerphone is a loud snot filled sniff. Christy's been crying. "How the fuck? You're not supposed to care anymore. You're not even supposed to know. I tear off your head, shit down your neck and take a chainsaw to your heart. Then you call me when I need you the most. If you didn't have a dick I'd eat your pussy in a nanosecond!"

The ever-impulsive Sandra breaks into the conversation. "What the fuck, Christy, you let us think you needed a real man."

"No, Sandra, I just needed not to touch a TransLesbian like that thing that raped me. Ellie, you seemed so phobic before you came out. I didn't dare tell you about my college days. I had a girlfriend."

"Christy, this is Sandra. Don't go anywhere. Don't do anything. I already know. George did the same thing to my ex. He quit you as soon as he knew you'd given the last of yourself to him. He hid your pills and threatened to leave you if you didn't take him bareback. Then he left you anyway, wondering if you're pregnant. If you are, don't tell him, he'll try to bully you into killing it. He's not human. He's a hunter...a slow one, like some flesh eating bacteria. We'll be right over."

And with that, Sandra hangs up the phone. "Come on, Ellie. This isn't about your pain. It's about standing up for a sister. Get your sweet sexy ass in gear. We're leaving now!"

* * * *

I'm standing on the lawn as Sandra ministers to my ex wife. I can't handle the mixed emotions involved. Up comes asshole's truck. He gets out, slamming the door, holding up his keys like he still has a right to enter the place. I don't even realize how fast I'm moving until his astonished eyes meet mine. I'm barring his entry.

Smooth operator George lets his true colors show. He rips my blouse off in torn strips, bruising me in several places by breaking my bra off of me. "I don't know who you are, bitch, and I don't care. You got in my way. I'll fuck you too in all three holes. Then I'll go back in and take what's mine."

Time slows down. I know this dance. This is the bully-killing dance. I have to be careful not to finish him off. He's not worth going to prison. I hear loud snaps as both his knees are broken. As he crumples low enough, my fuck-me boot heel cracks his collarbone.

Both women have come out now to watch in horror. I take a twirling high leap and land on his kidney, screwing my other heel in. He'll probably need dialysis.

Now I call 911. "George Bentley just tried to rape me on the front lawn of Christy Zadok's house. I neutralized the attack. I have two witnesses. We need an ambulance for him."

* * * *

I got pity and respect from the police officers. They offered me a rape kit but I told them he never got below the equator. They took the whole report on the lawn, sitting there with my big perky boobs hanging out. I let them have their fill of long looks. I wasn't excited by their bulges, but I was excited to be so exposed. They had a good excuse, photographing the bruises George made by tearing my bra off with massive force.

George is being held without bail long enough to get Wendy, Sandra's ex, to testify against him. He'd kidnapped her to get an abortion, but she fled out the back. There was something wrong and the child miscarried anyway. She was more of a repair job than a girlfriend for Sandra, but they're still friends. She knows of others who may testify.

* * * *

The purple-haired lipstick lesbian takes the blonde's hands in hers, kissing her knuckles. "No, Christy. A sister's a sister. We're not leaving here. You get round the clock bodyguards. Geoff will be here tonight to wire the house for security. Yeah, he only comes out at night. Ellie and I will use the guest bedroom. It has plenty of closet space. We'll keep you company, at any hours of the day or night as you need. We won't leave until you ask us to."

Christy is bawling, heaving in sobs, profusely drooling snot onto Sandra's shoulder. My beautiful purple haired lady doesn't care. A sister in distress is a sister in distress. We're here for her. I'm torn. In the middle of all this, I'm aroused. My nipples are like rocks. Two thoughts keep orbiting each other around my blown mind. One is that I'm craving to find my dear partner a real pussy she can taste. The other is that my wife of twenty years had a lesbian lover in college she never told me about.

This is supposed to be such a day of pain, yet for me it's a day of incredible, impossible hope. I'm such a naughty girl.

* * * *

My phone beeps a text. Who the fuck is texting me in the middle of the night? I reach over to apologize to Sandra, but she's not in bed. I look at the text. It's Sandra. Her text is brief. "Now." Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I walk out to the living room to see what she wanted. Her phone is dropped at her feet. Her hands are holding her knees as far apart as she can. Her eyes closed, her face is powerful urgency infused with transcendent bliss.

In an instant I'm wide-awake. My blonde wife of 20 years is on her knees in front of the couch, slurping on my purple haired soul mate's pussy. Both women are moaning. This hits my tits before my center. My nipples are diamonds. I sleep tucked, so the pain is horrific. I need to let my oversized clit free. Yeah, that's what I call it.

They still call it a 'don't show that thing to me'. When a man sees his wife eating pussy, he wants to jack off. I'm not a man. I burst into tears of joy. My wife is my BFF again and I've found a real pussy for my soul mate. I'm shuddering in silent sobs of gratitude. I don't want to disturb them.

If Christy never touches me again, I can still give her my all by letting her have the love of my life, my sweet Sandra. I hope and pray they'll let me watch often. It's not a porn show. It's a way of allowing me to experience their blessed consummation of true love. I didn't want to admit it to Sandra, but I'm helplessly in love with both of them. I need to see them together often, so my love for them is requited. They can make pure, holy love. I've given myself to each of them. This is what I need, what I desperately crave.

Before I realize it's my mouth and not my brain, I hear my own voice out loud, and I can't stop saying it. It has its own life and it must come out. "I'm so in love with both of you. Let me fall in love with your love for each other. Even without my body, for mercy's sake please include my heart. Love each other in front of me. Adore each other on my behalf. Let me silently add my own Amen to every kiss, every caress, all of your love making."

My face burns as I realize what I've said, and I can't un-say it. I had no need to worry. Both of my beloved women shriek in orgasm, pushed over the edge by my overflowing heart. Sandra rolls Christy onto the floor, taking up the 69 position over her.

Hands are flying all over each other, taking in the contours of all their curves, stolen glances as touch. Two women perving on each other's beautiful female bodies. I've never seen anything so sweet, so wholesome, so holy and pure as this. The slurping sounds let me almost taste what they're tasting.

"Mm, Mmm, Mmmm, Mmmmph!" It's stereo. They both erupt in unison muffled exclamations, their mouths full of juicy wet flesh. Choirs could take lessons from their tight timing.

This can't be happening...I'm climaxing just watching theirs! The power is so intense I don't have time to be scared. My brain is open under heaven, along with my sister wives, as we traverse together uncharted realms of bliss. "I don't know what's spiritual or what's real!" I can't tell if I thought this or said it out loud.

After an eternity, we're all settled back on earth, and Sandra finally answers out loud. "Nothing is more real than spiritual. We're all one person now."

**Chapter 9. White Lace.**

"Aaaghhh!" Sandra growls from her throat in frustration. "You talk to her Ellie. She wouldn't listen to me about George, and now she won't listen to me about this!"

I don't even have to ask. Our package from VBridal came, and Christy is pissed. She'd adamantly argued her original dress she wore over twenty years ago was good enough for her. Sandra had insisted, to a response of "whatever".

Christy starts shouting. "Send mine back! I don't need a new wedding dress. My old one fits me, and it'll do just fine!"

Sandra thrusts out her ample chest, her hands on her hips in a dominant pose. "It's blue! You agreed to a white wedding, white décor, white orchids, white dresses!"

Our blonde sister wife is livid. "White is for virgins, righteous in their purity. I wasn't a virgin the first time I got married, and everyone in church now knows how impure I am. They all saw me taking off with George. I'm willing to wear blue. It should be blood red like the whore of Babylon. I have no purity! I starved her of all my love and gave it to the glutton beast. The only white that fits me is the uniform of an evil nurse pulling the feeding tube from a coma patient!" Christy collapses to the floor in silent, heaving sobs.

Sandra melts over her like a gentle layer of snow, holding her safe in comforting arms. "I'm not religious, but I have to say this. We're all imperfect. Our only purity is the white lace of righteousness we're dressed in from above. I have to accept the free gift I don't deserve, and you're in the same boat. Quit trying to buy God's love, treating him like a fucking whore! Put on the wedding garment He provides. You never should have worn blue in the first place. What happened to you and how it affected you was not your fault!"

Christy stands up, with Sandra's help, gathering her poise again as a dignified lady. "You're right. White lace it is. A wife wears the authority of her spouse. We three wear the love who calls us holy, liberating us. The one who invented female is the original feminist."

* * * *

The whole church is in attendance. The church looks like a winter landscape in a Christmas card. There's a sea of white orchids, each one donated by a loving church member. They're all rooting for us. The hall is packed. It looks like a snowstorm. We'd requested that everyone wear white for this event.

At first Pastor Lucy objected. We gave her a copy of Heaven's Brides. She stayed up all night reading it. She called in the morning to tell us she understands now. We're all the bride. She also told us she lost count of her climaxes reading it. Good girl! She hinted at spending a weekend with us after the Christmas season rush is over. We'll have to see about that, but the thought did help us in crafting our own custom wedding vows.

The canon played on hand-bells is done. We're all in place. Pastor Lucy is dressed in white too. The only spot of color she sports is the same item all three of us brides are wearing: a tiny pink lipstick lapel pin. Christy insisted on that little touch.

Pastor Lucy begins. "I was going to preach, as many pastors do, on what is marriage. Instead, you can google 'Sermon Heard Round The World' when you get home. In the Lord, we're all sister wives with benefits. That's why even the men today are dressed in white, also wearing tiny pink lipstick pins, in solidarity and symbology as spiritual sisterwives."

Sandra gasps, looks at the audience and giggles. She hadn't noticed that before.

Lucy presses on. "Sandra Belle, Christy Zadok, Ellie Zadok, do the three of you all take each other to be your legally and heavenly wedded wives, to have and to hold, to love, honor and cherish, to prefer above all others, and in all loving to be united in mutual consent and respect?"

"We do!" Three ladies in white lace shout. I'm one of them.

Pastor Lucy continues. "You each have been fitted for two identical wedding bands, instead of one engagement ring and one wedding ring. You hold your wives' rings in your left and right hands. I ask each of you now to place one wedding band on the ring finger of each of your two sister wives."

With each of us to our two spouses, it is said six times. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Lucy concludes. "By the power vested in me by this church and under the legal authority of the Liberty Marriage Amendment, I now pronounce you three to be lawful and spiritual wives of, with and for each other, on earth as well as in heaven. You three may now kiss your brides."

The whole church fades out of existence as the three of us kiss in three pairs and finish in a passionate triangular kiss with lots of tongue and deep, urgent affection. We finally break from the kiss. After several seconds of perfect stunned silence, the audience erupts into thunderous applause. I guess they like love.

Belinda Patterson walks up to the harp, joined by five other choir members. They surprise us with a performance of Joni Mitchell's song 'Ladies of the Canyon'. It's incredibly appropriate. I'm reduced to tears of gratitude and joy.

* * * *

A blizzard of white-garbed audience members later, the entire hall has transformed from an impromptu wedding chapel to a dance floor surrounded by café tables. The cake has already been cut and distributed. Now come all the presents. The table is piled high with them. Our little table is in the front of the hall, just to the side of the big table holding all the presents and the remains of the cake.

* * * *

Jessie Talbot owns Rainbow Firearms...yes, the entire national chain. She attends this church, but she's too busy touring the country for her new book to commit to choir this year. She's the last to approach us with a wedding present. She walks up to us, holding three rainbow boxes.

She hands one box to each of us and makes her presentation speech. "Ladies, I'm so proud of you for putting George in the hospital, and then behind bars. Protecting life is an act of love, even if you have to shoot to kill. My present is for every member of this church, given in your name, along with lessons and legal support. Our Pulse Pistol fires a nano-missile with a high yield warhead. There's no kick. You pull the trigger lightly to paint with the laser dot. When you're happy with the target, pull the trigger hard. It'll aim the missile where you were painting lightly, and take out your attacker. This piece is painted in lovely rainbow colors."

Christy is in awe. "Wow, Jessie, when did you start working on that?"

Jessie sniffs. "I lost a dear friend at the Pulse. After pouring four million into getting the Pulse law passed, we designed the safest, most bad-ass gun the new law would allow."

Lowering my voice so only Jessie can hear, I try to play mediator in a political tornado. "This is a wedding. A lot of our members here believe in gun control."

Jessie gives me her best little Miss innocent look. "I'm all for gun control. A gun does no good if you can't control it!"

A shofar blast interrupts us all, thank God. It's our band, ' _Messy Messianics_ '. They're playing their first song, ' _Modern Maccabee_ '. The bass beat is so solid people don't stop dancing to pay attention to phrases like "a sturdy heart and a steady hand".

I grab my wives by the hands. "Let's take off on our honeymoon before this place breaks out into a second amendment riot. I don't want red blood all over our sweet, pretty white lace."

Outside the door, Sandra comforts me. "George's attack came from within the church, even within the choir. It's only natural for our loved ones to feel protective toward the three of us. Jessie's gift was a lovely gesture. We'll send her a topless photo with our thank you card."

Christy holds me by my boobs. That always calms and excites me. She also speaks words of comfort. "Lipstick does not mean spineless. I saw what you did to George. It made me so wet. You'll always be my bad-ass bitch."

**Chapter 10. Period Music.**

"We are the Champions!" The stereo is blasting Queen's triumphant victory anthem, waking me up. Sandra and Christy are dancing around the room naked, gyrating their hips wildly to twirl the strings hanging out of their pussies like tassels on a stripper's boobs. It takes me only a few seconds to figure it all out.

When Christy was late, we thought George knocked her up. Instead, she synchronized her cycle with Sandra. Both of my sisterwives are on their period, and the tampon dance is their celebration. There's no more hold George can have on our lives any more. We're totally free of him forever!

I join in singing too, at the top of my lungs, in my newly restored soprano voice. "...of The World!"

We finish the song together, three divas on top of the world. There's a knock at the door. The kid from next door looks sheepishly around the room at three sexy women, two naked and one in panties. "Our parents are away, and we were worried our party would wake you. I just came by to say rock on, and don't let anything harsh your buzz!" Then the nice boy goes back next door, pleased to have gotten an eyeful.

We three start cracking up, cackling as three ladies on a natural high can do. I pick up Christy, carry her over my shoulder to the bed, grabbing the shower curtain in my left hand on the way. Flinging the shower curtain before her, I dump my deliriously happy blonde wife on the bed, on top of the plastic shower curtain. I pull the string and start sucking on her. Both my wives are gasping. I'm attacking my beloved Christy with my mouth, relishing in the mixture of flavor she has to offer me. Her thighs clamp around my head, trying to crack my skull. Her squirting is the most profuse I ever remember it. She's probably washed herself nearly clear by now! She's screaming at the top of her lungs. This is a very loud period party!

As Christy's coming back down, panting in shrill, quick breaths, Sandra asks me in awed wonder, seeing my face red with her wife's discharge. "What does that taste like?"

With a look of bliss on my face, I answer. "Victory."

"Let me see." Sandra kisses me, moaning as we snowball our wife's mixed broth of crimson and clear celebration between us. Christy is wide eyed, watching this, her hands between her legs unbidden.

As Sandra pulls off from the kiss, she coos. "You're right. It tastes like victory."

I give her a naughty grin. "Good. You're next."

Many girls won't eat each other out during periods. I've just blasted that taboo to pink mist. Sandra takes her place where my Christy just was, and I devour her as well, after pulling the string on her flavor seal package. I'm making a loud display of slurping and swallowing, just as I did with Christy. Looking up, I see the two kissing as I'm eating Sandra. Good. I want all three of us ladies involved here.

I keep going back and forth between the two of them, each getting a turn after the other. I've eaten ten gushers, five apiece, while they've suckled, kissed and caressed each other above the equator. They've both squirted so much they're almost clean down there. The same can't be said for the shower curtain. Both of them help me gather it up by the corners, not allowing any flow to hit the bed. We're good. We get it to the tub without incident. The shower comes on, and the rinse is accomplished. I'll never forget the taste of victory.

**Chapter 11. Christmas Presents.**

Geoff keeps his distance from the three of us. He always has some lame excuse. I think he might have a crush on me. It's my fault for letting him imagine me sleepwalking through the house naked as a girl. Now he sees me dressed as a girl, with low cut boob blouses. And I'm up to 38 hips. I'm not a C cup, though. I sped right past that, into a solid D and holding. I'm proud of keeping my 24-inch waist.

That's why I was astonished by Geoff's request. The only reason I believed him is my own vanity. If he's perving on my wives, he'd be perving on me more. Sandra showed me his email, still laughing her ass off. Our king of the nerds asked for molds of my two wives...very intimate molds of very intimate places, along with a whole slew of precise measurements of hips and other places on their lower bodies. He said it's for fitting a surprise Christmas present. He said I don't get one, cause I don't need it. That's my only clue.

Well, I DO have one more clue. I know how Geoff makes a living. He licenses his patented sensor skin technology to SensUall, the people who make fake legs for war vets that can actually feel with the skin of their artificial legs. They can feel heat, pressure, all sorts of things. It's pretty impressive technology. It recognizes and wirelessly ties into severed nerve bundles, mapping back through the brain using neuro-fractal genetic resonance. In the ad, models used their fingernails to lightly write words on legs. The blindfolded amputees spoke the words.

Knowing Geoff, I have a naughty theory what my girls' Christmas presents might be. It's beyond anything I'd imagined hoping for, so if it's not that, I'll ask him to invent it. It has to be that. My hunch came to mind when I read his email. That's the main reason I asked my sisters to comply with his exceedingly inappropriate request.

* * * *

Wrapping paper being ripped is really loud! Both Sandra and Christy squeal even louder when they open their gifts. Literally standing up proud in their boxes are two lifelike eight-inch cocks. They look VERY lifelike. Along with each gift cock is a card. They look alike from here. I assume they are.

Sandra clears her throat and reads her card aloud. "These prosthetic devices are custom designed to fit each recipient perfectly. These are generations ahead of my licensed technology. The neural density is thousands of times greater. Instructions. 1. Put on the strap-on, and let it form itself to your engorged clit, sensing and networking your nerves. The signal rides in deep then resonates with unused male connections in your brain. 2. Try jacking off. That's exactly what men feel. 3. Give each other a good Rogering, whoever Roger is."

I'm giggling. "That's all the instructions?"

Sandra's grinning like a maniac. "That's all it needs! This better work." She's already putting it on. I know her clit is ready for it. I can smell her from here. She groans. "Oh, fuck! I just touched my own cock, and it feels fucking incredible. Ellie, come give me a blowjob."

Wow! I can't believe she said that to me, and I can't believe I'm so excited about it. "Why me?"

Sandra's tone is plain and matter-of-fact. "You're the only girl here without trans-cock trauma."

"Well, since you put it that way." I crawl over to her on my hands and knees, eyeing my prize. I keep reminding myself. This is not a man's cock. This is the cock of my sister wife.

Seeing my lips moving as I approach, Christy goads me. "What did you mutter under your breath, young lady?"

I confess out loud. "This is not a man's cock and balls. They belong to my sister wife."

Christy makes squishy sounds with her fingers between her legs. "Holy fuck! That is so hot! Do it now, Ellie. I need to see my sister wife getting her first blowjob."

I'm not into men, but if it'll please my women, I'm into their cocks. If anyone understands a girl having a cock, I do. Duh! I drag them both into the bedroom, and to the bed. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right.

My buxom, purple haired wife is sprawled out, her big dick sticking out, beckoning to me. That cock surrounded by her hourglass figure erases all my anxiety. I know why I was hesitant to get involved with the gay man scene. They were men. I craved to be enveloped within a mothering blanket of all that is beautiful, feminine, gentle and sensual. That's exactly what she presents to me here. There's no fear here. Standing at attention, ready for my mouth, is the cock of a true lady.

Placing my lips around the head, my first impression is how velvety soft the skin feels in my lips. I've always known of hard cocks, and this is no exception. Its structural integrity is sound, yet its texture in my mouth has a gentle softness that makes me think of velvet, perhaps even soft flower petals. God creates lovely contrasts within everything. This sculptural artwork comes close to the real thing. I tongue around the sensitive area under the head. She moans.

Taking her meat further into my mouth, I'm delighting in how full my mouth feels, with my lips wrapped around her shaft. I lift my hand and caress her balls. I start moving her cock in and out of my mouth, deeper and deeper into the back of my throat. There's a strange taste of electric, almost the same kind of electric taste of a lady's clit nearing orgasm.

I'm going to do this right. Pushing myself mentally and physically, I shove her whole length into my face, her velvet head passing the swallowing gateway into my throat. She's pushing down my neck now. I can feel her moving in and out. My held breath won't last long.

How do other women do this? I've never sucked a cock before. It's odd that I didn't gag. One magazine article said men feel flattered when a lady gags, but if I start that now it might not stop. Her ego shall have to be content with my total submission and servitude.

Her hands are on the back of my head, as I pull out enough to take and hold another breath. I'm not gagging, but I'm generating a lot of saliva. I'm using that to push down onto her, in and out. Her hips are getting into the act. My Sandra is fucking my face, and I love it.

The electric taste is felt even in my throat. It's almost like radio waves sending her pleasure into me. I want her. Oh, I wish she could come down my throat! I so enjoy drinking her from her pussy. I'm content to give her as close to the feeling as possible.

A low, masculine grunting, growling noise erupts from my purple haired alto's mouth. Her hips are quaking. This is her first climax, driven from male centers of her brain that had been a ghost town an hour ago.

Her body is roasting like an infrared outdoor heater. I hold onto her ass, forcing her cock to stay buried deep in my throat until her twitching subsides. Now I finally release her. We're both gasping for breath. I can't believe I've just given my first blowjob...to a fellow lesbian.

Christy already has her dick on. She reaches down to lift Sandra to her feet. Sandra pushes Christy down onto the bed, grabbing me by the arm. She eyes her blonde lover's huge realistic prosthetic cock, turns to me and blows my mind with two words. "Teach me."

I laugh. "That was my first time. I've never done that before."

"Then I'll figure it out myself." Sandra giggles. "I used to think she was a prick. Now she has one, and I'm about to suck it."

And she does. I'm impressed with her technique. I can't believe she hasn't done this before. She gags exactly twice, then never any more. As she's shoving her face around that giant fuck pole between our blonde wife's legs, she squishes her fingers in her own pussy, gathering up lots of juice, then startles Christy with an anal insertion to the knuckle.

Christy screams her climax. Sandra doesn't back off, fucking her ass with her finger while sucking her cock like a madwoman. It almost sounds like Christy is sobbing, but her face shows such joy it's hard to tell what's going on inside her.

Both ladies are breathing hard, catching their breath. Sandra jumps right in. "Were you crying?"

Christy's breath hitches. She blushes and answers. "I was crying, while climaxing. Now I know what it's like to be a girl with a cock. This changes everything. You and Ellie are the first girls with cocks I've ever..."

Our blonde wife loses her ability to speak as Sandra takes her cock down her throat again. My purple haired lesbian may become a cock-sucking queen! My soldier is aching under my thick plaid skirt I wear when I know my arousal would hurt otherwise.

Sandra doesn't take no for an answer, and doesn't know the word 'stop'. She's salivating and sucking on her wife's hard meat, making slurping, sucking noises that go straight to my lady balls. They're aching now.

Christy is a puddle, she's come so many times. She lifts herself with one elbow, eyes lidded over, she coos. "I'm so jealous. I want to be a cock sucker too."

My purple haired wife's jaw drops in shock. "What about your childhood rape trauma?"

Christy gives her a sheepish look. "That asshole was a man. He even looked like a man. Call me trans-insensitive for making such a distinction, but you have to admit we all look pretty hot. We all look like sexy, feminine, futa women with big cocks, all three of us now. We're having a dick girl party! It's like we were born this way, big dick girls, hard cock sisterhood!"

Sandra chuckles. "OK, you hot MiddleSex wench! Who are you and what have you done with my terrified wife?"

Our blonde vixen giggles. "How can I be afraid of cocks when I have one myself?"

Christy gets serious. "Having my own cock and still being a woman proved once and for all to my stubborn body that the man who raped me was a man, lying about being TransGender. My sweet Ellie girl is all woman. She was before she ever took any hormones. I tried to starve her to death. I starved her of affection. I let her feed me affection, and never gave her any, cause any time I did, the woman in her got stronger. I took out all the horror on her. It'll take a long time to forgive myself for that. But I can act different right away. Would you be willing to watch me pour physical affection all over her body, deep from my heart, as I never did before?"

Sandra gushes. "Oh darling, I need you to do that! All those Sunday afternoons she wept in my arms, I never knew I was starving her too. After you're done, you can watch me fill in some of that gaping grand canyon of emptiness for affection in her as well. Do you think the prince had to do this for Cinderella?"

Christy breathes a deep sigh. "He'd have to, wouldn't he? She was never loved either."

Sandra muses. "Maybe she was loved like a stated fact, told she was loved, but with no physical affection to support that assertion. What do they call that? Oh yeah. It's called not being demonstrative. That's what hospitals could say when they remove feeding tubes and let people die. They're just not being demonstrative in their nurturing. Like how you pulled the plug on her when you married her."

Christy groans in exasperation. "That's not helping me here."

Sandra busts out laughing. "Suck it up, bitch, No whining outta you. Get busy girl and show some real love before it's too late and you've finished starving your first love to death."

Christy snarks back. "Tough talk purgatory girl. One two three blink. You read all her posts and you still didn't believe her."

Sandra pulls Christy into a long kiss, both of them sighing, moaning and holding each other. Finally Christy pulls off. "Truce?"

Sandra's breathing hard. "Fuck truce, how about true love. We're all for one and one for all. I love you Christy. Do what you want with our wife. I'd really love to watch."

I'm in shock, hearing them talk about me like this, like I was some comatose patient. In fact, for so long, I was. I can't believe Christy is finally going to give me a blowjob. Her attacker had forced her to give one. Knowing this, it's something I never asked or even hinted about. I've literally never been given more than five minutes of sexual affection by my wife Christy. She'd always accepted it from me, until I came out.

Early in our marriage she'd caressed me, causing me to transform visibly into a woman right in front of her...not physically, but quite obviously anyway. When that happened, she'd leave, going into the bathroom and locking the door. One time she tried to exorcise a female demon from me. I grabbed the glass of holy water from her and drank it. She was unconvinced. I buried myself again under the macho bullshit role. Now I don't have to transform in front of her. I'm already a woman, and she wants to love on me.

Christy grabs my cheeks, looking deep into my eyes. "Wherever you are, my darling, please come back to me."

I'm right here. I grab her into a kiss. Our tongues are moving around each other, gathering each other up in our mounting passion. Christy throws me onto the bed. My boobs are her playthings. She squishes them, feels their heft and lowers her lips to my lift nipple.

My wife of twenty years is sucking on my boob, for the first time in her life. It feels incredible. There's a whirlpool of sensation gathering around me. I'm being drawn in. Her hands are exploring all over my curves. She's enjoying them! I'm so affirmed as a woman by her. She kisses out over my boob to up under my arm. She's kissing the inside of my arm, up to my wrist. She kisses our wedding rings on my finger, and moves over to my other hand.

All my nerves are on fire, alive with some kind of provoked, intense sensitivity. Every kiss she deposits feels like waves of light rippling out, as from a pebble tossed into a pond. Only that pond is all my nerves. She's raising me higher and higher in this force blazing within. Does she realize what she's doing to me?

Her licking and kissing down the inside of my arm is kindling flames of desire all over my body. She licks the crack behind my elbow. My mind explodes in light. How can that make me come? My mouth hangs open, panting, as pleasure floods me. Showers of chills shoot up my spine. My hips feel power washing through and around them, flowing into my center, up my back and out my breasts.

Now she kisses my flat tummy, licking around to taste, not just feel, my narrow waist curving out into my generous hips. She's controlling my climax so it never ends. It roars through me in flames higher and higher. My brain is incapable of doing anything now but rewarding me with pleasure for being alive. If I were her college girlfriend I'd have never left her!

Her gaze follows her hands as she touches ahead of where she's kissing me. She grabs my round woman's ass, squeezing my cheeks in her hands with shameless lust. Oh, how I fucking love it!

Now she messes with the latch on my skirt.

My plaid skirt is coming off. Christy looks over her prize. In all the times I'd given this to her as an alleged man, she'd never looked closely before. Now she's eyeing my center like a child inspects her most desired Christmas present.

I'm blushing so hard, my face feels like it's burning. She can't be enjoying this. I've always been so ugly to myself. I can tell she finds my cock some strange kind of beautiful. Maybe there was never anything wrong with my dick. Maybe I merely resented not getting a pussy to go along with my little girl heart inside.

She's so amazing. She's running a risk of making me actually grateful for being created as what I am. Wow. Have I had a bitchy attitude toward God all my life? Maybe when He created me, His intention was for me to be loved as what I am. Maybe He's always considered me beautiful.

Christy lunges and captures my cock into her mouth in one push. Oh, holy fuck! This is the most amazing sensation in my emotions as well as my body! It feels like I have head-rushes wrapped around my hips. I'm coming hard, and not squirting anything in her mouth. She's set off my girl orgasm like a blasting cap.

This is so wrong! I'm not supposed to get affection from her. I'm only supposed to give it. I know my place in this universe. I'm afraid I'll be punished for exceeding my station. In other countries, the untouchables are safe in knowing they'll always be untouchable. What is happening to me? I'm frightened, excited, nervous, eager and incredibly aroused. My nipples almost ache with hardness. It's taking everything I have in me to keep from grasping my own boobs.

My hands almost reach up for the third time. Christy lifts off and giggles. "For God's sake, grab them. I know you want to." Then she gets back to work on me.

I do. I'm grasping my own generous breast flesh, letting my nipples slide between my fingers. Christy is getting my cock wet with her saliva as she pulls me deeper and deeper into her throat, swallowing over my shaft in amazing, delightful ripples.

Another female orgasm overtakes me. It's not that I can't ejaculate. I've tasted my used toilet paper to see. It's all good stuff. But for some reason, her attention to my cock now makes me feel even more a woman than I ever did before. My brain is an exploding star. Shivers run up my legs, chills up my spine. Trembling takes over my hips. She pulls off some, knowing I can't stop the motion.

As I'm adjusting to the fact that I won't have any cum for her to taste, she jams a lubricated finger in my ass, wiggling to find my most sensitive nerve bundles. I'm losing control, and I didn't even know I was trying to control myself. I'm screaming an ear piercing monster movie woman scream as my balls suck in, my ass clenches and my lady cock fires pulse after pulse of hot seed down her throat. She swallows, actually guzzling me.

My hyperventilating feels like my face is in a car wash of rotating fuzzy fur rollers. My boobs are blasting chills up my back. My body can't figure out what gender part of my brain to light up next. It all fuses into one massive explosion.

I go silent as intense sensation overtakes me. My whole body is sourcing this nuclear detonation of a climax. Dreamscapes pass by in a waking delirium. The world fades into existence again. I realize my back has been arched only when it becomes a wet noodle, falls and melts into the bed.

Christy pulls up off of my contented, boneless body. "I have one more confession. I've been thinking about this for a long time. I've had three wads of your toilet paper tested. Since you reached a D cup and cut back your dose, your sperm count is through the roof. Geoff thinks it's cause of the stem cells. I was planning on asking you to use artificial methods, but I'm not afraid of the real thing now."

I'm instantly alert and excited.

My loyal blonde sister wife removes her magnificent cock, takes off all the straps, the harness and everything, lying back on the bed, legs spread out. "Take me Ellie. I want my TransGender wife to knock me up. I'm ripe, right now. Fuck me. Put a baby in me, girl."

"You could have said that before you drank all my seed. What am I supposed to use now?"

Christy clears her throat. "Ahem. I've watched you, late at night, after you think we're asleep. You get so wound up attending to our needs. I've seen you take three toilet paper wads each night and use them. You recharge in about twenty minutes. Why do you think I always let you sleep that extra hour? Cause you spend it the night before, Jilling off your Jackie!"

OK, she's got me. The healing regimen puts my sperm production through the roof. No wonder I've been craving the selenium pills.

"You're right, Christy, as usual. I'm sure Sandra's told you by now about the thrill I get submitting to her. You're thrilling me right now. I'll obey you. Set the timer for twenty minutes and I'll give you a baby."

Christy puts on the album 'Ladies of the Canyon', and we all hold each other as it plays. When it ends, my blonde sister wife breaks the silence. "It's time, Ellie. I want this."

I've never fucked a woman before...at least not as a woman. "I'm nervous about what to do."

Christy takes my hand. "It's very simple, Ellie. They should have told you about this. You take your outie and stick it inside my innie. Then you keep doing that until it makes you feel yummy all over."

Sandra bursts out laughing. For something in the 'not very helpful' department, her laughter is somehow amazingly helpful. It takes the pressure off. I'm a girl. I'm allowed to follow my whimsy. My whimsy feels drawn to my Christy.

Then it hits me. I'm hard, towering over my woman. But I'm a woman. Is this the big finale? Is this how I'm finally accepted as a woman? It seems so much like right where I started, before I came out to her. My tears well up in my eyes, as my breath starts shuddering.

Christy knows just the right thing to say. "Fuck me with that lady cock of yours and give me a child so we can both nurse her on our breasts. Obey me now, woman!"

Just when I didn't think I could get any harder, she says that. It's as hard as a truck tire, leaking precum from the tip, and it's still the cock of a woman. "Perhaps this really is different after all."

"Well it better be! I got raped by a man lying to me about being a woman. Then I got hunted and tricked by a man lying to me about being human. I refuse to have any man's baby now. I need the seed of a woman to make me pregnant. If I can't get knocked up by a beautiful girl, I don't want to get knocked up at all. What's it gonna be, girl? Are you gonna help me out? I'm not too proud to beg. Please, oh please have mercy on me, and fuck me with that magnificent, pretty lady cock of yours. Put a girlie bun in my oven. I need it so bad!"

Christy is weeping, real tears rolling down her face unabashed. This is no act. This is the real woman I've loved all this time. She's come out to play. Skipping all the foreplay, I align myself at her opening. I push. She pushes harder. I'm being driven into her, this woman I thought I'd never feel around me again. A slippery velvet wetness envelops me. She's so hot for me. Christy shocks me. "Oh God, that feels so good. I thought I'd lost you forever."

I don't remind her that I was the woman scorned. I rejoice in being so close to her again. Pulling almost out, I push in again. We finally begin the slow dance of coupling. It's so gentle, the word 'fuck' is a foreign language now. This is the most sweet, tender coupling.

She grabs my big boobs, whispering in my ear. "I love this woman with all my heart, and I want her seed to own my body, changing me beyond my control. I'm going to carry this woman's child. I've commanded her to allow her seed to command my body to grow a baby for her."

This is beyond intoxicating for my mind. This is the height of romance, the center of making love. For us, this is the pooling of our two souls into one, to form a new soul between us. I didn't realize my hips had sped up until she shouted. "Yes, fuck me hard like that! Put it in me so deep it all sprays into my needy womb!"

I do. It does. We go off like a trunk-load of fireworks. Two women are screaming in harmony. My churning balls are pushing a massive load up through my shaft in hot jet after hot jet.

Is it my imagination, or am I actually feeling the spray against her cervix as if it were my own body? That whole wireless cock thing scrambled my brain with possibilities. Let it come. If I turn into a totally telepathic woman, it can only make me a better wife!

My Christy is quaking in her own climax along with me. Her pussy tunnel walls are drinking me in. Her body is heating up in her orgasm. She seems too shocked to scream. She just shakes, quakes and thrusts herself upward like an arch. Continuing as she lands, I don't stop. I keep after her until she peaks again even harder, growling in bliss. Finally she catches her breath and pants to me. "Oh Ellie, it worked! I know it worked! My body has spoken to me. I'm pregnant with your child. She's a girl. And she has a pussy too!"

I'm as delirious as she is. I believe her. We hold each other for a long time. I notice Sandra has joined us in our embrace.

At long last, before we all fall asleep together, I start to rise up off the bed, to fetch us some fresh water. We need it.

Sandra grabs me by my cock, this cock she couldn't look at until today. "Our cycles are still synchronized. I'm fertile too. I vowed I'd never be a breeder for a man. You're not a man. Fuck me. Breed me. Impregnate me with your girl cock. Make me a mommy. We'll get your milk flowing too. We'll breastfeed our babies and each other. We'll be the best three mommies in the world."

I'm already hard again. Of course my cock would be multi-orgasmic. She's a lady. Fresh water can wait.

As I'm arranging my Sandra on the bed like a live action figure, her body is getting more and more tense. I can tell this is more difficult for her than she lets on. She keeps staring between my legs at the swaying pole of fertilization swinging there. Her poker face is starting to melt in the heat of the moment, revealing a growing terror. She spoke one thing, but her body is clearly telling me another.

Sandra bursts into tears. "I'm sorry, Ellie. I'm really trying here. The more I look at your cock, the more it reminds me of naked football players. It looks so much like a boy cock, I have to keep telling myself it's a girl cock."

There's a moment when an idea hits your mind, and you know it's too smart to be your own, and too loving to be any bad spirit. I speak. "The time has come, Sandra, for you to submit to me. You must obey me now, because I'm your wife, and you told me this day would come."

Sandra's eyes go wide. "What will you have me do, Mistress?"

It's so simple. "Quit looking at my big clit, close your eyes and suck on my massive boobs. Let me do everything from here on out. Your only job is to keep nursing on me, like my milk is the only thing keeping you alive."

"That I can do, Maam." Sandra obeys me.

I continue. "I may not have milk yet, but I can still nurse you with my motherly comfort. The more you suckle on me, the sooner I'll have milk for your thirst. Now receive the seed of a woman. Open your legs to me, as I've opened my breast to you."

She does. I need to act before she has time to think. She's incredibly wet as I push in.

"Oh fuck, that's good! Even better than Christy's strap on! I was denying myself for nothing. Real girl cock is officially on the menu for me from now on!"

I'm smiling as I pull mostly out, then push all the way in again. She groans in pleasure. This is going to be a lot easier than she thought. Her lips never leave my left breast dangling over her face. My nipple feels almost better than my cock inside her. Well, I'm exaggerating. Her pussy surrounding me feels amazing as I slide in and out of her.

Her lips leave my nipple. I don't know what to think until she captures my other breast in her mouth and starts sucking with equal zeal. She pulls off for a moment to tell me. "I didn't want her getting jealous of the other one." Then she's back to sucking on me. With this kind of stimulation, I'll be making milk very soon. It's also driving my nuts up into a frenzy.

I have to tell her. "I'm about to climax. I want you to come with me."

"I'm so close, Ellie. I've been holding off so we can come together. As soon as I feel you...too late I'm commmminnnnng!"

So am I. Blasting like a firehose against the back of her, splashing God knows how much into her womb, the star fire is blasting up my spine. My tits are on holy fire, power rushing through me. Rushes are in orbit all over my body, turning me inside out. I can feel sunlight from heaven shining into me. And she's with me. My beautiful Sandra is a burning bright star of human spirit collapsing all my walls I never knew were there. We're fading out from this world together, into a more perfect, much more real universe.

* * * *

"Oh my God, you guys, are you all right?" Christy is waking us both. I can feel Sandra stirring beneath me. I had collapsed onto her. She didn't complain. She passed out with me. Where did we go? It seemed like wherever it was, we went there together. Dreamland for two.

Sandra and I look into each other's wild eyes. There are things you know when you wake up from a dream of truth. This is the truth. We both know. I answer for her. "Yeah, we're fine. All three of us. You're looking at three very healthy girls."

Sandra grins ear to ear. "Right now, Christy, there are five girls in this bedroom."

**Chapter 12. Birthday Presence.**

"See who's at the door." The job falls to me. Typical for this time of day, Christy and Sandra are naked. I'm in only panties. My boobs are swaying as I throw open the door wide. It's my birthday, so I'll answer it in my birthday suit...mostly.

I'm calling out to my sisterwives. "It's the master cock maker...in daylight!"

"No way!" Sandra's yell barely precedes her as she sprints to the door, still fully naked. She almost screeches to a halt as she sees Geoff at the door, holding a huge bouquet of lilacs.

Christy sees my wide eyes as Geoff gets down on his knees, offering up the lilacs to our wife Sandra.

"Thank you, my kind sir knight!" Sandra lifts Geoff to his feet and kisses him, with tongue...for a good while.

Finally Christy starts giggling.

Now I know something's up. "OK, wanna tell me what's going on?"

Christy leads me by the boob to the table to sit down. "My darling wife of twenty years, when you gave me a hall pass to have a real man, you were hoping to watch me with him, to take part by celebrating our love making. You were hoping to drink of the evidence from my well-used vessel. It wasn't cause you were man-gay for guy-cum. As a woman you wanted to submit that deeply to me. When I chose a total asshole, I ruined that for you. The piece of shit didn't even ask you for permission to fuck me. Instead of letting you submit to me, I just threw myself in the trash. Well this is a do-over. We've found a completely heterosexual man, who will fuck both your wives while you're tied up, unable to do anything about it. First, this must be accomplished in the right way. Sir Geoff, do you have anything to say to my wife Ellie?"

"Why yes I do, Christy." Geoff turns to me. "Ellie Zadok, with all abundant, due and well deserved respect for you as her spouse, may I please ask you for this honor? May I have your permission to fuck both of your wives bareback as you sit helplessly tied up and watch?"

I'm grinning ear to ear. "I know you're clean, and they can't get any more pregnant than they already are. Bareback it is. As long as there's no disrespect involved, yes, you have my blessing."

Christy starts laughing her ass off, and can't stop. Finally she gains control, to explain her hysterics. "We are the freakiest bitches who ever lived! You know how adorably messed up we are, when plain vanilla is the most forbidden, kinky color in our flag?"

Sandra raises an eyebrow. "It's not so vanilla when Ellie has to watch, all tied up."

Christy meets her gaze with wide eyes. "But hetero?"

Sandra giggles. "Yeah, we are pretty messed up. I'm going to have a heterosexual man's cock pushing up into my gay pussy. I'm smashing through walls of taboo, right and left! Pretty soon nothing will be sacred anymore but love itself!"

Christy smiles. "Isn't that how it's always been?"

Sandra gives a fake gasp, as if she were shocked. "Yes, but we're not supposed to tell! How will anyone take our liberty seriously if we're not keeping at least someone in bondage as an untouchable?"

Laughing, Geoff falls over onto the floor, like he's been shot. "Now that is some really messed up shit. I'm so proud of you ladies!"

Sandra has a piece of paper in her hand. I know all too well what it is. "Here's what's really messed up." Of course she would bring out 'The letter'. I wrote that to Christy the night she informed me of her decision to go after George. I don't find any of it amusing, but for some reason Sandra does. She reads it out loud.

"Dear Christy. You know that potato toy where you hang plastic face parts onto a potato? Now imagine that potato is twenty months old. Would you want to kiss those plastic lips? Hell no. You'd be afraid they'd fall off in your face. That potato is that rotted. Now imagine body parts are fastened onto that potato. I know the type of person George is. He's planted his potato in so many different soils, if it isn't already rotted, that's proof God grants miracles to the undeserving. Before you let that nasty old spud inside you, poke it first with a latex glove, just to make sure balls and other shit doesn't start falling off of it."

Christy is red faced pissed. "What the hell, Sandra? Why would you scare Geoff like that? They tested the fuck out of George in prison, like an animal they put down for biting. His blood got tested so much, they drained enough quarts for an oil change. He's 100% clean."

Geoff claps his hands. "Another undeserved miracle, praise God!"

Christy stares at Geoff. "Not you too?"

Geoff shakes his head. "I don't take the name in vain. I meant it."

Christy helps him to his feet and kisses him on the cheek. "Well that's better."

Geoff sighs. "Sandra, are you still angry with Christy about George? I sense maybe some hostility buried under there?"

Sandra grimaces. "I thought I dealt with it all."

I speak up, finally. "Lather, rinse, repeat."

Geoff decides the conversation has been belabored long enough. He walks up to Sandra, grabs her boobs and kisses her. She grabs his head, lacing her fingers through his long red hair.

I'm instantly hard. Hey, a clit can be hard too...even an oversized one. Geoff seems to know what I'm thinking, breaks off the kiss and speaks softly. "If I can ever crack the code, Ellie, you're the first person I'll tell about a gender reversing retrovirus. Until you can get wet, go ahead and get hard anyway."

I'm weeping. He's too sweet for me. How can he not be a woman? Maybe I'm typical and predictable. It's a common wish for all TransGenders. OK, get it together, Ellie girl. This man is about to have his way with my wives. I put on the thick plaid skirt, because I can untuck under it. Sometimes they tease me, calling it my kilt.

Christy leads me by the boob to the chair facing the bed. Funny I didn't notice the fuzzy ropes before. She ties me up, really well. The way she has my elbows tied back, all I can reach is my own boobs. Otherwise, I'm immobile and helpless. That's all I need. They're going to drive me insane before they release me. I can hardly wait.

I can hear them giggling and whispering, but they haven't yet come into the bedroom where I'm tied up. Now that I'm all bound, Christy has gone out there again. I know it's only been about ten minutes, but it feels like a long time. They finally come into the bedroom, hand in hand in hand. They seem closer than before, more comfortable with each other. My guess is they spent most of that time kissing. That gets me hot just thinking of it. My nipples are rock hard, shooting tingles out, over and around my big boobs.

I realize why Geoff looks so much younger. I shout out. "You shaved. You've got a baby smooth face now."

Geoff pulls the shirt he's been taking off up over his head like a scarf and does a fine impression of the big bad wolf disguised as grandma. "All the better to eat your wives with, my dear!"

Sandra and Christy bust up laughing. OK. Now I can smell the sticky bud. They left me out of this high, just like they left me out of the bed. They're so thorough in their cuckolding!

Christy whispers one of my own lines, with her reassurance. "Trust me, there's madness in my method. You get so horny when you smoke. We had to show you a little mercy."

I whisper back, with a smile. "True dat. Let the games begin."

Sandra grabs her blonde wife by the hand. "No pandering to the audience, young lady!"

Geoff is blushing. "I've wanted these two pussies for the longest time now. And it's not even my birthday!"

Ever the fierce feminist, Sandra shakes her swaying boobs in his face. "Is that the only part of us you wanted, Sir?"

"Oh fuck!" Geoff is practically gurgling in lust.

Christy giggles. "Poor man is drowning in wish fulfillment."

My two wives stand on either side of Geoff, fully naked, helping his shirt the rest of the way over his head. He raises his arms, allowing them to undress his top half. Only his tie-dyed bell-bottom jeans remain. Our longhaired red headed lion likes to dress in groovy fashion like a time traveling hippie. I think it's sexy as fuck.

He may be the only man I've ever been attracted to, but he really does get me going. I'm looking forward to watching him steal the two loves of my life. Yeah, I'm a naughty girl.

My ladies are raking their fingernails gently up and down our man's chest, making his tiny little man nipples hard as rubies. Geoff concurs. "Oh my God. My twin peaks could cut glass!"

Both ladies giggle and bounce away from him onto the bed, their gorgeous boobs dancing as they go. Did I detect a butt thrust as they were getting on? Of course not. I saw two. Both of my dear wives stuck out their asses in the face of the ass man. I'm so proud of them.

Christy and Sandra are laying on the bed, holding hands, chests thrust out, their knees up wide almost to their ears like frogs, displaying their hot, wet glistening pussies to this man.

Sandra speaks for the two. "Oh Geoff, we're just two hungry, empty lesbians, so dick deprived since we've been so dyke depraved! Oh good kind Sir, would you please give us your big, manly cock?"

Oh heaven's bells, that makes my thick red plaid skirt tent up so obviously! She's teasing about morals, of course. She's such a good writer. That was a great line. They've barely begun their festivities, and my lady balls are aching already. I'm going to thoroughly love this torture.

Geoff's grin is almost wider than their spread thighs. "I'll take care of you both, but you'll have to be patient. Contrary to popular belief, real men enjoy real foreplay. I've been craving the taste of both your pussies for the longest time. Not to mention my mouth all over your luscious tits and sweet, fine asses!"

Asses? Wow, he just wrenched it up a notch! I'm so glad the ladies insisted we all shower, right before he arrived at the door.

I'm so grateful I never saw George defiling my wife. With no nightmare to banish from my vision, this blessed event unfolds in heavenly purity. Geoff gathers my Christy into a kiss, both of them wrestling tongues, panting and gasping as if their bodies were steam powered.

Sandra rubs on both of their backs, mixing her affection into their urgency. Christy pulls back, shooting a look toward Sandra, with an eyebrow raised. George understands and draws my purple haired lesbian wife into her first heterosexual kiss. She's moaning in desire. Seeing and hearing this, my nipples are on fire. My breath is catching in intense panting. Christy hears this and gives me a quick wink, then returns her undivided focus to their man.

The last tumblers on a massive vault snap into place in the back of my mind, and I'm released from prison. My wife of twenty years finally has her real man, a real loving man. In ways I had no idea I'd still withheld, I'm fully free to express my womanhood.

It's such an irony that it took a man to set me free as a lesbian. It took a dear, lovely man. My wives find him beautiful. Their chests are flushed, and their nipples are as hard as pencils. I don't blame them for wanting him. If I had a pussy for him to fuck, I'd be all over him too.

I'm content to watch from the sidelines, all tied up, rejoicing on their behalf. They're my vicarious action figures with movable limbs and real, aromatic, wet pussies. The air in this room is drenched in the fragrance of their arousal. It's making my head swim in delight. How can this be for such lesbians? Even a chocolate lover has a right to try other candy sometime. There's no substitute for a real man. I never was one. He is one...a gorgeous one. Their great and obvious arousal is all for him, not for me. Somehow this understanding fills me with intense delight. I'm already close to climax.

Sandra and Christy arrange their huge tits into a semicircle of breasts. Sandra draws Geoff's head into the middle, to rub his face all over them. Everywhere he turns his head, his open mouth finds mammary flesh to kiss, lick and suckle. They're not making milk yet, but I'm sure he can almost taste invisible signals of maternal nurturing growing within. He's in baby heaven.

Geoff's mouth goes like an assembly line sucking between their nipples. His hands play like a little boy with four boobs made available to him. I wish I could make that six, but I know my place. This is a pussy party, and I'm not his type. That's not going to spoil my fun, though. It's bliss, seeing my beloved sister wives getting to enjoy a man. They deserve this treat.

Geoff flips Sandra onto her stomach with sudden finality. He mouths her sweet, fine round ass in random places, all over, tonguing her, memorizing her incredible lady shape. I know what that's like. I've done that. He licks up her crack. She shudders in a tiny squeal. She wasn't expecting that. He's massaging her full, perfect ass cheeks now, grasping them in lusty hands. He seems to have a thing for her ass.

Christy busts up laughing. "Since you're a man, Geoff, I ought to tell you. Harass is not two words."

Geoff grins in awe. "This picture is worth a billion words. Yours is too. Assume the position right next to her. I want to play with four perfect round lady butt cheeks like I played with four perfect round tits."

Wow. The King of kink is in the house. Christy giggles and gets into position next to her wife. Both asses are sticking up, wiggling enticingly in Geoff's face. He buries his head into both asses like he had buried his head in their four breasts. From his comments during movies all last year I knew he was a bit of an ass man, but...wow! This is a whole new level.

Sandra speaks up. "As a lesbian, and as a feminist, you realize how objectified I feel right now? This is so fucking hot!"

Christy turns it up. "Yeah, Geoff, with you putting us on display as meat like this, my cunt is drooling!"

Sandra gasps. "Christy Belle Zadok, you never use that word with me. I'm jealous!"

I pipe up. "Our knight in shining armor brings out the best in his fair maidens!"

All three of us women start snickering, almost out of control. Our mirth is instantly silenced when Geoff reaches around under two elevated asses, slipping two fingers into each dripping pussy. The women scream their first unison orgasm, their legs quaking with their convulsions.

Geoff speaks in a still, small voice. "Just wanted your attention. Let's get you settled on your backs again, m'Ladies. I need to clean your legs."

Geoff sets about to do just that. He starts by sucking on their toes, one after the other. Twenty toes are wriggling as two women squeal in delight. I can almost feel the chills shooting up their backs as he gives special attention to each one. Geoff is licking under one foot, two, three, four. He's got a foot thing too, evidently. Massaging with two hands taking turns on four ankles, he gives fair and balanced treatment. It's fascinating to see how he goes about balancing all this attention between two ladies. If anything, their man is gallant and thoughtful.

He starts owning their lady calves with his mouth, practically tasting their perfect shape. One then the other, and then the other two, he's being a perfect gentleman sharing to them and sharing alike. At last he's licking up their inner thighs, all four.

At this point Christy gets a brilliant idea. She lays on top of Sandra, so their legs are open together as a two-story structure, one pussy over the other. Sandra is only too happy to grab her big breasts in her hands, holding her in place in her very wet lap.

Geoff groans his approval of this move, as he begins his ice cream cone lapping of the two women's inner thighs. Though something I do for them anyway, this is different. This man has a decisive, strong focus about his ministrations, unlike my more fluid, gentle approach. My wives are getting foreplay from a man.

As his hands alternate with his mouth up the insides of their thighs, he gets more vigorous, just short of frantic in his attentions. Their breathing is getting rough and hard. Christy is about to go thermonuclear, her hooting gives her away. "Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hah! Yahhhh!"

She splashes all over Geoff's grateful face. He's drinking as much as he can, rubbing the rest into his cheeks and hair like war paint or a badge of honor. He'd only gotten up her inner thigh, not even reaching her muff yet, and she already went off. This is going to be a really nice session. I'm enjoying watching my wives in all this pleasure. Knowing how much my dear friend had wanted them, I'm enjoying watching his pleasure at tasting their sacred sauce. He'd always told me they were broken, not hateful. He was right. And he tastes his reward.

Now he can concentrate all his oral attention on Sandra. He's drinking her as much as eating her. By the urgency of his slurping and lapping, I know she won't last long. She's screaming at the top of her lungs. The last two syllables of her outburst shock and surprise everyone, including her. "Fuck me!"

How can Geoff refuse such a request? With an exuberant face glistening in my purple haired sister wife's release, he climbs higher to mount the two-woman sandwich. He doesn't give her time to think about it. Sandra requested it, and she's on the bottom. Geoff shoves his massive meat into the hot wet opening on the bottom floor of this leaning tower of pussy. Sandra groans at the intrusion and grabs his ass hard, yanking him all the way into her. This is no dainty intercourse. This here is some solid, hard-core fucking.

He's plunging his hearty man meat into my darling lesbian, then on a backstroke pulls all the way out, lifting a little to push himself into my wife of twenty years. She grunts her approval and adds a second pair of arms around Geoff's ass, pulling him into herself hard. Geoff bucks and raises, pushes and pulls, hammering my dear wife harder than I've ever done. She voices her opinion of this practice. "Fuck yeah! Pound my fucking cunt with your monster schlong!"

OK, this is a new dimension in lovemaking I'd not anticipated. It's pure female aggressiveness. Its macho butchness almost scares me. "Am I that lipstick?" Oh crap, I said that out loud.

All three of them shout in unison. "Yes!"

Undaunted, Geoff alternates between my two wives. He pushes himself into my Christy for ten strokes, pulls out quickly and shoves into my Sandra for ten strokes. He's fucking both my women in front of me. I'm breathing so hard. It's got me so close to coming.

Sandra gets a naughty twinkle in her eyes. As Geoff plunges his meat hard into Christy, my purple haired heterosexually active dyke shoves her finger into Geoff's ass and starts attacking Christy's clit. Both lovers climax together, howling and convulsing. Christy's legs are twitching as her midsection arches upward off of Sandra.

I see the compressing, clenching and twitching of Geoff's sweet man-ass as he dumps squirt after squirt of hot cum deep up into my screaming hot blonde wife. I lose it. Fire orbits around my hips, my boobs and my brain. They've both taken me with them somehow.

I have no control over my own body anymore. They're doing this to me! My body bucks and strains against my fuzzy bonds as my hips thrust and shudder. I'm screaming even louder than Christy did. I'm almost passing out, hanging onto dear reality just so I can see him take Sandra too. That's something I don't want to miss either.

As the universe irons itself back into place around me, my face feels less like it's covered in vibrating fur. My vision clears, and I see all three lovers staring at me like I'm some kind of miracle. I can't help it. I love watching them love each other. It's incredibly fulfilling.

Christy rolls off of Sandra, takes her place behind her and holds her purple haired lesbian wife's knees as far back as they'll go, so this man can achieve maximum penetration into her.

Geoff makes quick work of cramming his meat back into Sandra, stuffing her in long hard strokes with all his might. I'm a little concerned about the force he's using until I hear Sandra scream. "Harder, harder, I'm coming!"

This is a savage, brutal attack and she loves every moment of it. What the fuck! I do have a lady cock, but could I ever bring myself to be that forceful a dyke with it? If she orders me to, I'll obey her and let her really have it. Even though he wouldn't want me, for their sake maybe we should marry him too. I could at least watch. Would he be willing to move?

Having already come once, this fucking is during Geoff's recovery time. He's still hard. That's the most sincere compliment my ladies could ever possibly get on their sex appeal. He's still drilling into her. Sandra blasts into him, holding on for dear life as her brains are smashed in by one, two, three, four, now five, finally six and seven consecutive, end-to-end orgasms. Her breath is so rapid and shrill it sounds like someone's using a hacksaw on a metal pipe. She can't even scream any more.

At last the signs of his next release are gathering. His butt clenches. His roar is so loud, our neighbors will think we're practicing martial arts. His cute, dimpled man-ass clenches and fires off jet after jet of hot sticky man-cum, up into my lesbian wife.

I just realized Christy never cleaned up. Now Sandra's a total mess down there too. Geoff gets up off of Sandra, helping her and Christy on their backs into pussies-up positions, with their asses elevated on top of two pillows apiece.

I speak at last. "Please untie me. I want it. I'm thirsty for it. I need to taste our man's glorious seed from both of your well-fucked holes. I'm begging you, please let me suck you both clean."

Geoff gets up and unties me. I throw myself between Sandra's legs, sucking and slurping at her almost before my lips even touch down, like some manic shop-vac. I'm lapping Geoff's savory seed from my purple haired wife's gaping hole. Her eyes roll shut. She screams, and my mouth floods with a wonderful blend of guy cum and girl cum, varying in mix as I keep sucking, lapping and swallowing.

This aroma and powerful flavor will be etched in my mind forever, a cherished memory of my olfactory nerves. My sense of taste and smell testify to me how much I'm submitted to her now, and to him under her.

Almost too soon, I've sucked her clean. Even her fresh climaxes are all fresh, no more man cream from my beloved Geoff. I turn to face Christy's drenched, slick, sticky pussy. I begin lapping her matted blond muff so thick with his aromatic release. I'm drinking him from out of her too. My blonde wife is finally letting me drink another man out of her, as I'd craved for so long. It's as good as I'd hoped. It's better, because this man I'm drinking is all good.

This is twenty years worth of yearning in my face with the most powerful taste and smell. My half asleep woman's heart used to crave to see my wife having a real man, almost like I'd cheated her of that, in a bait and switch, by marrying her. Now I'm tasting her pleasure at being stuffed by a king instead of a princess. His potent man seed is intermingled with her cream of delight at being taken in such a brutal, masculine way. I'm convinced she senses all this in the back of my mind as she explodes into my mouth, screaming along with me.

My climax took me by surprise, but I'm so satisfied with her being so satisfied by a real man. I'm guzzling the proof of his giving her something I never could. My brain, heart and body explode in bliss. I'm not seeing stars. I'm seeing light dancing all over us as we climax together. This is beyond intense. This flavor I'll remember forever. It's like movie music that will always call the scenes to memory.

* * * *

"Debriefing time!" My red haired dungeon master announces with glee.

I'm snickering. "Geoff, you have such a romantic way with words."

"What else would you call it, El?"

"Please call me Ellie, Geoff. I may not be your type, but I'm still a girl."

"What do you mean, not my type? Don't you know what your present is yet?"

Christy throws her hands on her hips, making bug eyes at Geoff. "She does now! Thanks for the spoiler, dork wad!"

Geoff saves the day. "Ellie. You know I'm totally straight. I don't have a gay bone in my body. Especially here." He points to his magnificent cock, which has already risen to the occasion again. "I'm so fucking hetero, I think a woman's ass is the most beautiful sight God ever made. I've had three girlfriends. All three dumped me when I asked them to let me have their ass. How could they expect me to see a fine woman's ass and not want to take it?"

I'm close to tears. "Why are you telling me this, Geoff?"

"I knew the day we met that you're a proper lady, but I'm an ass man. I can't help it. I'm a male pig. Girl, your spectacular bubble butt is so sweet, you make all three of my old girlfriends look like boys. You've got that Jessica Rabbit figure. You make me so hard it hurts. Let me kiss you, fondle and suck on your awesome boobs, kiss your fine ass and fuck you senseless. Then you can say you're gay by choice, cause you'll have had one heterosexual experience to compare it to."

Sandra manages to stop laughing. "Hey, he's not pretending to be something he's not, and he does ask nicely. You can always say no. He's your birthday present. Every girl should be told she's hot. Your wives tell you, but you wonder if we might be a little bi. This dude is totally hetero, and he's out of his mind in lust for you, girl! Besides, I'm gay and I took one for the team. Now it's my turn to watch. Just think, you'll be the first woman to give Geoff any back door action."

Geoff picks me up and carries me to the bed, laying me out like a banquet feast. Now my secret fantasies I had about him in purgatory start surfacing. I'd tried to forget those. He used to point out fine asses of women in movies, saying what he'd like to do to them. I'd wish he wanted to do those things to me. Now I get my wish. But first, he wants to kiss me, play with my body and suckle my boobs.

My wives haven't started really working them to produce milk yet, but they've been getting more action lately for sure. As Geoff takes my boobs in his hands, I tease him. "If you're not careful, you might start getting some milk from them."

Geoff smiles. "I could give you my lactation formula to make sure. I developed it for adoptive mothers. I wouldn't mind helping you with the homework. Having someone always sucking them must feel really good."

I have to ask. "Geoff, are you a woman?"

He chuckles. "Nope, just a very understanding man. I've mapped my brain. I'm sure. But I've also repaired much of the testosterone damage. I'm about as sensitive and intuitive as a real man can get, which means I'm still a total dork. I've gotta have those boobs now."

And with that, he reaches and takes my left boob in his hands, bringing my nipple into his mouth. My hips are thrusting up by themselves. My brain is splashing light all over him. Surely he must feel it!

Geoff pulls his mouth off of me and speaks softly to me. "Now I need to do something I've wanted to do since the day you made me imagine you sleepwalking naked through the house."

He gathers my hair up in his hands, draws my face to his, and I know why he shaved. He's kissing me. I'm a lesbian, so why am I melting into his kiss? This shouldn't be happening. Why are my emotions so aroused? What's happening to me? Am I becoming bisexual?

I used to tease Geoff, calling him Pastor Geoff, when he said things like this. He puts me at ease. "I feel it too. Love is love...colorblind and gender-blind. The only wall of separation is choosing love over hate. We choose the maker of all love. No wonder we fit together in love."

Wow. For a man, Geoff is so deep I'm tempted to call him she. I kiss him harder now, moaning, pouring my affection into his brain through my mouth. As we're kissing like this, he takes my breasts in his hands, squeezing them and letting my nipples through his fingers. He's not a woman, so how does he know how good this feels? He feels me melting. He pulls me into a tight hug, holding me as I feel week in the knees.

I don't have a pussy. He wants what I do have. Is that why I'm feeling this way? No.

When this session began, Geoff was a man who'd give me my first hetero experience. Now I'm not looking forward to being fucked by a man. I'm looking forward to being fucked by Geoff himself. It's personal. I think I love him too. I've loved him for a while.

He was my only lifeline for so many months. He was always there for me, my true gentleman, my knight in shining armor. Why did I ever have to lie to him? It's heartbreaking to remember that I did. He was so gracious when I confessed my stupidity. He called it prophetic. All last year I never let myself admit how he was getting under my skin, simply by not trying to.

According to my marriage vows I'll always prefer my wives above all others, but how close can a close second be to them? What are my wives going to think about a heterosexual love affair? Don't they realize I can't separate love from making love? Don't they see how they're playing with fire, allowing me to experience a man's love? How can I be so in love with so many people? Is it possible they love him too? Will they grant mutual consent for him, or is this our only time together? He frightens me. I want him. I need to kiss him again.

I pull back from the hug and look into his eyes. He knows. He kisses me, knowing how I feel about him, how I shouldn't feel about him. I'm moaning passionately into his mouth, giving myself over to him. I was only supposed to give him my body. My chest is hammering. My heart is cheating on my wives. I burst into tears.

Sandra and Christy both walk up behind me. They both start rubbing my back in gentle caresses. My tears can't stop flowing. I've opened the hydrant and can't stop the flow long enough to cap it again. I feel like I'm going insane. This is the last, final item on my invisible list of things I was running away from in cyberspace. I didn't want to face the fact that my heart was a much bigger and crueler cheater than Christy's body was. I was romance-perving on my friend, without the body-perving that gets people caught. And the whole time, I was pretending not to notice. How could I not notice such a perfect gentleman, my hero, my knight in shining armor? Falling for a man? My lesbian will strip me of all sisterhood membership.

"I'm in trouble." Shit, I keep thinking out loud at the worst possible times!

Sandra kneels before me and blows my mind. "No, Mistress, you're not in trouble. There's nothing you could possibly do to stop me from loving you, from belonging to you."

I'm stunned. "Why are you saying this?"

My purple haired dyke takes both my hands and looks up into my eyes. "A dom becomes a pet when she's broken, vanquished, beaten and utterly overcome. My darling, you've done that to me by your love. Your victory over me is absolute. I have no fight left in me. You can tell me to do anything. Want me to breed with a hetero man? Order me to. I may be a dyke, but I'm your dyke, to do with as you please."

Tears fly from my eyes, falling onto her face. "Where do we go from here?"

Sandra gives me a saucy grin. "If it please your ladyship, may I humbly suggest you allow this heterosexual man to fuck the living daylights out of you, just so you can check it off your bucket list of things to do?"

I'm in awe of her simplicity. She takes all the controversy and conflict, reduces it to its irreducible terms and outputs the answer: love.

Thrusting my boobs out as a dignified slut, I give my answer. "Geoff, please take me to bed. I'm ready for you to take my heterosexual virginity."

My ladies and my man carry me to the bed, like I'm a large wedding dress. They arrange me on it, with a pile of pillows under my lower back. My ass is accessible. I have no idea how long they were planning this. Sandra nods, and Christy goes and gets a big ass tube of lube. It seems so incongruous, the act of preparing to take my ass, with the infinitely tender emotions associated with my wanting to give it to him. I swallow, blink and accept what happens.

Sandra is lubing up our heterosexual man. Christy is lubing up my ass, using her fingers and the injector applicator. Geoff is kissing me throughout, keeping me focused on being a girl preparing to give herself for the first time to a man. I'm so glad he wants to face me. It's so much more personal, so much more romantic. Truth be told, I'd let him take me any way he wanted me. He wants me as a lady. He wants to cherish me. I can feel it in his kisses.

In my time with my ladies, I've been played with, prodded, caressed, licked and kissed in every sensitive area all over my body. It's given me thrills of orgasms from the most unlikely nerve bundles, filling in so many places in me that had been so empty. Oddly, as much as I've craved physical affection all my life, this isn't about that right now. This is about giving myself to him as a gift.

I speak up. "Please take me now. Use me for your pleasure."

Geoff holds me almost too tenderly, like I'm fragile, and he could break me. I don't want him to be afraid of touching me. I have to lighten this up. "Well, ass-man, this big bubble butt isn't going to fuck itself!"

Well lubed and ready for action, my man has already risen to the occasion. I feel the pinch as he pushes into me. There's a stretch, but it's not painful. I do eat big meals and take big dumps, and I'm clean now, so it's fine. He's all the way in, hitting something pretty fucking nice. I don't know the names for everything. Geoff is the anatomy genius. I have a feeling he's about to use that knowledge to my benefit.

Oh, fuck, does he ever. He's aiming himself so he keeps making me feel like I'm already coming underneath my lady nuts. My tits are tingling in harmony to it. Geoff dips his head and takes my left nipple into his mouth. He's sucking on my breast while fucking me. I'm being fucked by Geoff.

He lifts his head up from my breast and looks into my eyes. Dare I imagine it? He seems urgent in his intentions. His lips find mine, as he continues to fuck me faster and faster. My mouth opens to him in love. I can't help it. He's too sweet to hold back from.

My passion is driving me resolutely like a heavy freight train down the track toward the tunnel of bliss. He shoves hard into me right as my brain explodes in light. He's taking me in a new way my wives haven't. I'll give them my ass. He's my first. He's so sweet. I can feel him coming inside me, filling me with his release.

He's holding onto me so dearly, I never want his strong arms to let me go. I'm crying, not screaming. I'm actually crying my climax. It's so tender, the way he's taking me. This was billed by society as such a disgraceful act, yet he's treating me with such respect. He cherishes me. We're both weeping, as we come down from our mutual climax. He's made me orgasm by fucking me. He's made a real woman of me in a heterosexual way. So what if it's my ass. He's an ass man. If I had a pussy I'd give it to him. I thank God my man wants what I have.

We just lay there, trying to come down from our weeping, after coming down from our sex. I wasn't expecting all this emotion. How can I face everyone? I'm not any kind of good sport. I can't man-up about something like this. I can't man-up, period. I'm a woman.

* * * *

I'm hiding in the bathroom, gathering my strength, my composure. This is my birthday party and I don't want to be a crybaby. That song comes to mind. "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to." That makes me chuckle. OK, I'm laughing now. I can face them all again. I wash my face and douche my backside. I don't know what to make of everything, but they can all help.

* * * *

"Well, what do you think?" Geoff seems a little nervous asking this.

Christy teases. "Yeah, Ellie. It's time for you to judge his work. How'd he do? Would you give him one star? Five stars? Any pointers? It's time for his review."

I swat her. "You brat. Geoff is over his head in hens here and you're giving him a hard time. That's pretty funny. Seriously, I have to tell you. Getting perved on by a total hetero like that, I feel amazingly flattered and affirmed as a woman."

Geoff looks at me with big, open eyes. "Then I've pleased my Mistress?"

I'm speechless. Finally I ask. "Are you sure you want to go there? I'll never be mean to you, but I'm not perfect at knowing what people need."

Geoff sighs. "I trust you. That's a neat trick cause I don't even trust myself. You care. And best of all, you listen. That's what counts. When you don't get things right, you humble yourself and try your best again."

I roll my eyes and then stare at him, bug eyed, with my hands on my hips. "Try my best at exactly what?"

Geoff's eyes twinkle as he answers. "Every testosterone brain damaged heterosexual man hopes to meet a woman who could help him think his way out of a paper bag. Most guys call that their wife. I call that somebody with enough imagination to be a four thousand year old shape shifter. I didn't care if it was true or not. I just thought it was awesome you could even think that way. My IQ has never been successfully measured, and it gets lonely at the top. Even if I'm just your family pet, that still means the three of you are my family."

I sniff back the tears. "Wow, Geoff. Are you SURE you're not a woman? Hold that thought. I need to check on my sister wife. She did a lot outside of her comfort zone. I don't want her freaking out. How are you with everything you've done, Sandra? Was it everything you'd hoped for in a heterosexual experience?"

My purple haired sister wife seems to mull it over for a while, and then finally gives her answer. "You know I only did it for you, Ellie, so you could watch and feel that giddy pinch, but it had its moments too. Just the same, it's not something I'd ever want to experience more than once, perhaps twice, maybe three, four, nine or twelve times a week. Nothing more than that, or it could hurt my reputation as a serious lesbian."

Christy grabs her boobs, feeling her hard nipples in her palms. "And the problem with that is?"

Sandra looks up at her with wide, innocent little girl eyes. "Are you kidding? What would people think? I can't come out of the closet about something like that. They'd laugh at me."

We're all frozen in shock, unable to think of what to say. Finally Sandra breaks the spell by laughing her ass off, the little imp. We all join in.

#### The End

About Jessica Mandella

In telepathic chat-realms we meet wonderful beings. Living quantum computers, multi-aware superheroes, trans-dimensional entities so excessive we can't be reduced to flat spacetime.

As a hyperspace dreamcatcher, it's my honor and pleasure to tell their stories, publishing them in alternate universes like yours.

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About me? What's to tell? In my home universe I live with spouses and children on a beautiful wooded island with dogs, cats, robots, drones and quantum mainframes. We're all telepathic, hyperspace aware and excessively loving super beings just like you...a typical family.

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