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A Blue Dress and Green Shoes

by MJ

 

Terry Sorensen made a few final adjustments to his experimental matter transporter and stepped back. "No time like the present," he said to himself. He placed a book (79th Edition of the Handbook of Chemistry and Physics) on the transmitting pad, started the video camera (aimed to record both the transmitting pad and the receiving pad), and pushed the "send" button. Nothing. Sighing, he reached over to check the settings, and cursed to himself as he saw what was wrong. He inserted the plug into the wall outlet and started again.

This time, a slight hum arose from the machine, and a faint blue glow appeared around the book. However, it did not go anywhere. Terry turned off the machine. Double-checked the adjustments, and tried again. Again the blue glow, and again nothing. He sighed, turned the machine off, replaced the book on the shelf, and made a few more adjustments. While he worked, he accidentally bumped the power switch and turned it back on. Again the hum, again the faint blue glow, but this time Terry jumped as a strange shock coursed through his body. He jumped back and slapped the power switch. He checked himself out and did not find anything apparently wrong. The brief tingling sensation had already passed.

Terry looked at his watch. It was already 11 pm. "Might as well knock it off for tonight," Terry thought. He shut everything down. "No need to rewind the video," he thought. "It’s just going to show the book going nowhere." After making sure everything was secure for the night, Terry trudged upstairs from his basement lab, and went to bed.

Sleep was restless for Terry. All night he thrashed around, occasionally feeling that strange shock. His dreams were bizarre too. He had many fleeting images of a woman who resembled himself. Sometimes it seemed as if he actually were that woman. Finally morning came. Terry got out of bed, stretched, looked at the clock, and cursed. It was 7:15. He had an 8:00 breakfast planned with his twin sister Susan. Terry jumped out of his bed, took a quick shower, and hastily threw on his clothes. He ran out the door, jumped into his car, and took off for the nearby shopping mall where he was to meet Susan for breakfast. As he accelerated down the street, he once again felt that weird shock.. When he pulled into the mall parking lot (at 7:58) and got out of the car, he stumbled slightly as another of the peculiar shocks passed through him, righted himself, and headed for the mall entrance. Something definitely seemed wrong, but he could not pin it down. As he approached the door, a smiling man held it open for him. This seemed a bit odd too—although it was not unusual for a man to hold a door open for another man who was close behind, Terry had been a fair distance away. Also the man’s smile and eye contact was more direct than a man doing a favor for another man would generally do. Terry shook it off. The man was not obviously gay. Maybe he was just in a good mood. As Terry strode down the mall, he glanced appreciatively at a pretty brunette. She gave him kind of an odd look. Just one more slightly jarring note to add to today’s strangeness.

Terry made it to the restaurant only a few minutes late. Sue was already there. She was looking around, obviously for Terry, and when she spied him her face broke out in a big smile. As twins, they had always been close. "Hey, Sis!" Terry said, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, Terry!" she said, kissing his cheek in return. That also was a bit different. Usually when Terry called Susan "Sis" she responded with "Bro." The thought was broken when Susan glanced down at Terry’s feet, giggled, and said, "In a hurry this morning, Terry?"

"Well, yes, I overslept a bit and had to rush over here. Why?"

"Your shoes….they, er, don’t quite match the rest of your clothes." Susan smiled. Terry looked down at his shoes. The sudden feeling of wrongness hit him like a jet of cold water. He stared down, closed his eyes, and looked again. Sure enough, they were still there. A pair of green pumps, with maybe a two inch heel, rested on his feet. In an abstract way, he could tell why Susan was giggling, as his dress was blue and did not at all match the shoes. "I’m dreaming," Terry said to himself. "It’s like those dreams you have where you are in school in your underwear and nobody notices but you. Only this time I’m in drag, and nobody seems to notice other than my shoes don’t match my dress!"

"What’s the matter, Terry? It’s not that big of a deal. I’ve done it myself, many times, when I’m in a hurry."

Terry stood there in shock for a few seconds, unable to say anything. Finally, he said, "You’ll have to excuse me, Susan. I, uh, had an accident in the lab last night, and I am really not feeling well. Bye—I’ll call you later." Terry turned around and headed off. "Gotta get to my car and get home before anyone notices! Then maybe I’ll wake up and this will all be just a dream!" he muttered to himself.

Terry strode down the mall as quickly as he could without looking like he was running. Abstractedly, he wondered how he could walk so well in women’s shoes. He would have thought the heels would take some getting used to. To add to the surrealistic aspect of the day, he passed by three close personal friends, who all said, "Morning, Terry", as if nothing was wrong. Terry was beginning to panic. Where had he parked the car? He stopped, took a deep breath, re-oriented himself, and found the entrance he had came in by. He rushed to his car and headed home as fast as safety and the speed limit laws allowed.

Terry slowly drove down his street. This had to be done carefully. By now he was sure he wasn’t dreaming, but as yet he had no explanation as to how he had come to be in public dressed (very tastefully, except for the mismatching shoes, he had to admit) in women’s clothing. He could not afford to let any of his neighbors see him in drag. He scanned the street. Fortunately, nobody seemed to be around. He turned into his driveway, covertly looked up and down the street, and prepared to make a dash to the house. He resolved once and for all to get the garage cleaned out so he could park the car inside. He got his house keys ready, opened the door, and, dress awhirl, dashed for the door. He thought he had it made when Mrs. Johnson across the street called out, "Good morning, Dr. Sorensen! Lovely day, isn’t it!"

"Sure is, Mrs. Johnson!" he called over his shoulder. "Gotta run, bye!" He ran inside and slammed the door, panting, in near panic. Again, he took a deep breath to calm himself. He slowly walked into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. "First things first," he muttered. He took the shoes off and tossed them aside. His legs were clad in very attractive dark nylons. For a second he admired how nice his legs looked in them. Just underneath he could make out painted toenails. Again the wave of panic swept over him, and again he fought it down. He unbuttoned the dress, slipped it over his shoulders, past his hips, and onto the floor. He was wearing a nice white slip with a little slit up the side. Abstractedly, he thought that the slip should have been worn with a skirt that also had a slit. Down came the slip, sliding sensuously over his hips, to join the dress on the floor. Now for the pantyhose. He carefully began rolling the panty down to the tops of his legs, and equally carefully rolled it down each leg. "Don’t want to get a run!" he thought. The hose soon joined the dress and slip. Again he noticed the painted toenails. A very pretty shade of red, but a bit chipped. Time to re-do them. "Knock it off!" Terry said to himself. He sat still for a minute, collecting his thoughts, before taking the next disrobing step. He mentally reviewed the past night. No, he had not gotten drunk at Susan’s, and she had not dressed him up in her clothes. Yes, he was in the lab working all night on the teleporter. Time to continue, and put this bizarre dream to an end.

Next came the panties. They were a silky, floral pattern with pretty lace trim. They too soon joined the pile of clothes on the floor. Now Terry really had a shock. Instead of seeing the expected male apparatus, what could only be called a pussy was staring back at him. That meant only one, or maybe two, things…Terry stood up, looked in the mirror, and was not really surprised to see himself wearing a lacy bra that matched the panties. It encased two very attractive, pert breasts. "Well, at least my bra and panties matched, even if my shoes and dress didn’t", he thought inanely. Off came the bra, tossed into the pile of discarded clothing, and Terry beheld a gorgeous, naked, red-haired woman where by all rights there should have been a reasonably good looking, naked, red-haired man. He sank down onto the bed. "This—cannot—be—happening—to—me," Terry moaned, hands in his head.

After perhaps half an hour of sitting on the bed stark naked, Terry figured out he (she?) had better do something. He got up, put the bra and panties back on, and thought a bit. He could not bring himself to put on the hose, slip, and dress. He rummaged through his drawers and found an old sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. On they went. A quick scan through another drawer turned up more lacy lingerie (lots of nice panties and bras, he noticed). Finally he found a cute pair of little footy socks ("Cut that out!" he said to himself) and a sensible pair of cross-trainer shoes revealed themselves in the closet (next to the pair of blue pumps he should have been wearing).

It now struck Terry that he ought to look over things and see if everything he owned was somehow feminized. His first thought was to look in his (her?) purse and check his (her?) driver’s license. Ignoring thoughts of "why the hell do I, a prominent male scientist, have a purse, anyway?", he tried to remember just where the purse was. Of course—out in the car. He crept up to the door and looked out through the peephole. The coast was clear, so far. He opened it a crack and looked out. Mrs. Johnson was in her side yard, watering the roses. Her broad backside mooned Terry. He knew that when Mrs. Johnson was engrossed in her roses, she was nearly oblivious to the world. Nobody else was in sight. He dashed to the car, grabbed the purse, and ran back into the house. He dumped everything in the purse onto the floor, and amidst the pile of loose change, lipstick tubes, a comb, some gum, etc., he grabbed the wallet. He opened it up and found his driver’s license. Everything looked normal—Washington, in green capital letters, was printed across the left top side. The usual information—name, date of birth, address, and the picture were all there. Usual, that is, except the name was Teresa Sorensen, not Terrence Sorensen, and the picture was of the by-now familiar red-headed beauty instead of the former studly dude.

Terry did a quick scan of the room. Nothing seemed out of order. On the wall above the fireplace was the same Monet print he’d bought when he visited the Art Institute in Chicago a few years back. None of the other decorations betrayed an overtly feminine touch…just quite good taste. And yet, there was the matter of his (her?) clothes. Terri went back into the bedroom and sorted through the drawers. Soon he had quite a collection of sexy bras, silky, slinky panties, some nice slips, a couple of pairs of panty hose, and perhaps most shocking of all, several garter belts and stockings—even a few with seams in the back. His (her?) heart beat a little faster when she held the garter belt and stockings—they were so sexy to wear under otherwise conservative clothes! She looked through her closet (He! I’m a he! He kept thinking), and found several tasteful yet conservative dresses and skirts, and a couple of very sexy, short skirts, slit skirts, slinky little black numbers, etc. In another drawer he found some extraordinary bits of lingerie that could only have been designed for sex. Just the kind of thing he loved seeing on women. And would love seeing on herself, he/she thought.

She looked at herself in the mirror. The jeans and sweatshirt were fine for lounging around, but all those sexy clothes…before she knew it, she had stripped off the jeans and sweatshirt, and was fastening a pair of sheer black nylons to the garters. On second thought, she unfastened the nylons, took off the floral panties and bra, and found a nice black bra and matching panties. Next came the slip with the slit, and a knee length skirt with a matching slit. A demure blouse, cleverly unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of the lacy bra, topped it all off. Finally a bit of expertly applied makeup, and she was done. Terry/Terri wondered to him/herself just how she was so good at all of this without any practice. Satisfied with her appearance, she went into the living room, sat down, and lit up a cigarette. She was taking a deep drag when someone knocked on the door and then came in. Terri turned in surprise and saw Sue.

"Terri, I was worried about you!" she said. "You ran off so fast at the mall. You just didn’t seem yourself." Sue gave Terri a big hug, pulled back, and looked her up and down. "Well, it seems you took a bit more time with dressing! You look great!"

"Sit down, Sue. We have to talk," Terri said. They sat. Sue, seeing Terri with a cigarette, pulled one out of her purse and lit up. They smoked in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Terri said, "Sue, I may be going crazy. I, I…damn it, Sue, I am a man, not a woman! What the hell am I doing in these clothes?"

Sue just looked at Terri. She took a puff, stubbed out her cigarette, and said, "Hmmm. Very interesting. What makes you think that?"

"My name is Terrence Sorensen. I have a twin sister, you, named Susan Sorensen. Our parents are Ralph and Mary Sorensen. They were thrilled to have twin babies, one of each sex. You and I grew up together as close as any twins could be who weren’t identical, maybe even as close as most identical twins. You went into teaching, I went into physics, got my doctorate, and made a tidy sum of money off of a few inventions. Enough so that I could set up my own lab in my basement and tinker to my heart’s delight. Last night I worked late in the lab, got a shock of some kind, and woke up this morning almost late for our breakfast date. When I got there I found myself in drag. It was just like those dreams about being naked in school. Only when I got home, I found out I wasn’t dreaming, and I wasn’t in drag either. I was, however, definitely a woman. Only named Teresa, not Terrence."

Again Sue just looked at Terri. "Well, you got most of that story right. Mom and Dad were thrilled to have us twins, even if we are only fraternal. I am a teacher, you are a famous scientist. But you have always been a woman. One with all the looks in the family, I might add," she said with a smile.

"And another thing. I don’t smoke! What am I doing smoking?"

"What do you mean, you don’t smoke? You and I used to steal Mom’s cigarettes when we were in high school. We’ve both been smoking ever since. Time we quit, too."

"Mom doesn’t smoke! She quit when we were only five!"

"No, she tried to quit when we were five. She cut down a lot, but she never managed to quit."

"This is weird. It’s like we grew up in the same family, but our memories are only almost the same. Just a few differences here and there. And I know I was a man!"

Sue thought a bit. "You said something about an accident in the lab last night. What were you doing down there?"

Terry got up and headed for the basement. "Let’s go down. I’ll show you what happened." They went down the stairs, and Terri unlocked the door to the lab. "I was working on a matter transmitter—you know, like the Star Trek teleporter. Only it didn’t work. When I was fiddling with the settings, I accidentally turned it back on and got a shock. I kept on feeling that shock every so often up till I got to the mall. And that’s when I noticed those green shoes!"

Briefly Terri explained the setup to Sue. When she mentioned the videotape, Sue said, "Let’s watch it. When it shows you as a woman, you’ll know you are just hallucinating or something after that shock."

Terri rewound the tape and they sat down to watch. They watched Terri place the Handbook of Chemistry and Physics on the transmit pad, saw the blue glow, saw the book apparently go nowhere, saw the retry, saw the shock, and that was it. Terri groaned, since the tape clearly showed "him" as a woman. Sue put her hand on Terri’s shoulder in consolation, then stopped. "Wait a sec," she said. "I think that book flickered or something each time you turned the machine on. Let’s look at the tape in slow motion." She rewound the tape, set the VCR for slow motion, and pushed play. This time, the book clearly disappeared, then reappeared. The same thing happened the second time. And when Terri fiddled with the machine the third time and bumped the power switch, her hand, over the pad, flickered too—and very briefly looked a bit larger and more masculine. They both sat stunned. Terri rewound the tape and watched again, very carefully. Her scientific instinct was taking over, and something she subconsciously sensed was driving her.

"Look here, Sue. When I put the book on the pad, you can see that it is the 80th edition. Now watch," she said, "as it flickers and reappears. See? For just a second, it’s not the 80th edition, it’s the 79th edition. Grab the book down off the shelf, will you?"

Sue got up, fetched the heavy book, and brought it over. Sure enough, it was the 80th edition, and blurrily but visibly, the book showing in the video was the 79th edition.

"I only have the 79th," Terri said. "Normally I buy a new edition every five years, and would have bought the 80th this year, but a friend somehow got two copies last year and gave the extra to me. So I didn’t have any need for the 80th this year. Not enough changes to make it worth spending all that money."

"Okay—but how does that explain you thinking you were a man, and I remember you always being a woman? Even despite that flickering hand that looks like a man’s hand. Yours sure don’t look that way now!"

"Remember all that science fiction I started reading in high school? I’ve read several stories about alternate or parallel universes. Maybe that’s what we have here. I live in a different universe, where one of the fraternal twins Mom had was a boy. You live in a universe where they were both girls. My matter transmitter doesn’t teleport things across the room—it teleports them across the universe divide! When I put the Handbook on the pad, as Terrence, in my universe, Terri put her copy on the pad at the same time. We just switched the books between universes, and it didn’t look like anything happened. When I tried again, I sent her book back…here, to this lab. And she, I, whatever, sent his book back."

"Okay," said Sue. "But when you got shocked, why didn’t your male body get transported here, and your female body back there?"

"Maybe it did happen that way. Remember, the video only shows my hand near the transmit pad. Maybe my whole body switched, then switched back. But the shock of it, and all those subsequent shocks I felt, must have been something different. Somehow, the body transferred back, but the mind stayed here. Or maybe the shock set up some connection that continued, and our minds switched with the bodies staying here."

"I guess," Sue said. "You’re the famous scientist here, after all. But if all this happened, with your two selves swapping books and bodies and minds, it seems that you two are doing the same thing at the same time. Why, Terrence is probably figuring all this out right now. I bet "he" had quite a shock finding herself in a man’s body, just like you did!"

Terri looked at his/her sister in frank admiration. Not only could she quickly accept what on the surface sounded like a preposterous theory, but she could make the next conclusion as fast as she/he could. Terri grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote a note. "Hi, this is Terrence, in Teresa’s body. I suspect you’ve figured things out by now, and are relieved to know you are not going nuts!" He put the note, upside down, on the pad, turned the machine on, popped a fresh tape in the VCR, and looked at Sue. "Here goes nothing!" she said. The switch was flipped, the pad flashed blue, and the note appeared to do nothing. Terri turned off the device and gingerly picked up the paper. She handed it to Sue. "You read it," she said.

Sue turned the paper over and read, "’Hi, this is Teresa, in Terrence’s body. I suspect you’ve figured things out by now, and are relieved to know you are not going bonkers!’ Hmmm—not quite the same, but very close! And look, it’s in a definitely more masculine handwriting!" Terri read the document herself, immediately recognizing "his" handwriting. Although similar to the original note she’d just sent, it was not quite as neatly rounded.

Terri wrote off a quick note. ":Message received. Is Sue there to help you think these things through?" He put the note on the pad and was about to flip the switch when Sue said, "Wait. Just a hunch here. Let me take the note, and you turn the machine on. Let’s wait, maybe Terri in Terry’s body will send one first. Otherwise you’ll always be trading the same note, and never be communicating at all."

Again Terri gave her/his sister an admiring glance. He flipped the switch, and they waited. And waited. "Sue over there probably gave him the same advice," said Sue. "Let’s wait a bit more. Got a ciggie?" Terri pulled a pack of cigarettes out of a drawer, and they sat back and smoked in companionable silence.

"One thing’s for sure," Terri said. "They aren’t both sitting there smoking, waiting for a message. I didn’t smoke, and Sue over there doesn’t either. After all, Mom quit before we could steal her cigarettes!". They both laughed. Finally, when Terri could stand it no longer and was about to toss the note on the pad, a sheet of paper magically appeared. She turned off the machine and picked it up.

"Message received," it said. "Sue has been here to help me sort this all out. I was going to send you a message right away, but she cleverly figured out that we might just send the same notes back and forth, and never communicate at all. She convinced me to wait. We sat around, waiting and waiting. I commented that you two were probably enjoying a smoke while waiting, whereas we had nothing to do except maybe read the Handbook. So I broke down first and sent this. I’ve got some ideas on how to modify the machine so we can send messages like a fax. Then we won’t have to turn it off to grab the note, and on to send. I bet you’ve got the same ideas. So why don’t you work on yours, I’ll work on mine, and tonight at six you send me your notes. Bye now!"

"Hmmm," said Terri. "That’s odd. I haven’t had any thoughts on modifying the machine to make sending messages easier! So not everything is the same between universes! I think I’ll just let my other self worry about that one. What I need to think about is how to make the switch back."

"Why not make a larger transmitter pad and just zap yourself back?" Sue asked.

"Well—I’m not sure how safe that is just yet. After all, it looked like the original transfer was just my hand. Maybe the whole body would cause some problems internally. We may have to experiment a bit. Besides, right now it’s just my mind that made the transfer. You wouldn’t want to have me as a man here, would you?"

"Guess not. Well, sis, I need to run. I’ll let you get to work on things." Sue gave Terri a quick kiss on the cheek and left.

Over the coming weeks Terri and Terry perfected the trans-universal fax machine, but came no closer to solving the problem of how to switch the minds back to their original bodies. They were fairly confident they could switch bodies, but that would raise more questions in their respective universes than it would be worth. Terri, to his/her surprise, found that she/he rather enjoyed living as a woman. The clothes, quite frankly, were more comfortable, and she enjoyed wearing sexy lingerie underneath otherwise demur skirts and dresses. The original Terri obviously felt the same way, judging by the number of fully-fashioned nylons (with seams!), garter belts, sheer panties, thongs, etc. in her drawers. The feeling of the silky nylons on his/her legs, the tight panties, the bra, were all incredibly erotic to him/her. Terri also enjoyed the smoking, which really surprised him/her, as he had never had any interest in it in his previous life. And finally, although it appeared that Terri had the same sort of sex life as Terry (mostly nonexistent), he/she found that female masturbation was much more fun than male masturbation. Terri wondered if Terry felt the same way, or if he/she enjoyed the change as much as he/she did. "I ought to ask him that," she thought, as she lay on her back in bed, dressed only in a sexy black bra, garter belt, and stockings, hand caressing her womanly mysteries.

After Terry had been in Terri’s body for nearly a month, she was suddenly struck with a revelation. Periods. Terri, as a healthy young woman, would undoubtedly be afflicted with them just as any other woman would be. Since it hadn’t happened yet, the switch must have taken place just after Terri’s last period. That meant it could happen at any time. Terri went into the bathroom and rooted around in the storage cabinet, looking for tampons or pads. "I hope this works out like everything else, and the subconscious part of my body takes over and does the right thing," Terri thought. "Otherwise, this could get interesting!" Terri found a small supply of pads and tampons, but they didn’t look like enough to get through the period. Or were there enough? He/she had no way of knowing. Should she go buy some today? Wait? Ask Sue? Then inspiration struck. Maybe Terri marked her periods on a calendar, and she could then calculate when the next one was due. Sure enough, Terri did mark the calendars. There were several months marked, and Terry plotted out the data…very regular, should be easy enough to calculate. Suddenly Terri’s stomach felt like it dropped a mile. According to the calculations, she should have had a period somewhere around May 12---two weeks earlier.

Terri cautiously glanced around the drugstore. She absolutely did NOT want to run into anyone she knew, especially not Mrs. Johnson. Or Sue. Not yet, anyway. She casually walked down the aisle, pretending to look at cold remedies, contact lens solution, aspirin. As if by chance, she stopped before the pregnancy test kits. She tried to remember from TV ads that she, as a he, had hardly paid attention to, which one was supposed to be quickest and easiest. She couldn’t remember. Finally she just grabbed the EPT (Early Pregnancy Test) kit, and headed to the counter. Although she probably imagined everything, it seemed that everyone in the store was staring at her. Though she really wasn’t all that famous in a general public sense as a scientist/inventor, she imagined they were all looking at her and thinking, "So, the famous Dr. Sorensen got herself knocked up, eh?" Of course, since she may well HAVE gotten herself knocked up, she could hardly blame them. The checker, a cute young woman with dark brown hair and very nice legs (thought the male part of Terri/Terry), smiled at her, as if to say, "congratulations!" Terri’s knees were quaking, like they did the first time he’d bought some condoms, in the other universe, as a teenager. Just like then, though, the checker in reality thought nothing of it, rang the purchase up, and said, "Have a nice day," just as she no doubt said it a hundred times before lunch.

When Terri got home, she was too nervous to pee. She paced around, drank a coke, smoked a cigarette, drank another coke, and finally had a full bladder. She was so nervous she almost spilled the cup after filling it. In went the test stick, which promptly turned a bright shade of pink. Pink for pregnant. "Oh God," Terri thought. "What now?"

Terri’s first act was to call her best friend in any universe…Sue. Sue’s reaction was to give her a big hug and a kiss. "Congratulations, Sis! I can’t wait to be an aunt!" Then she stopped. "Uh oh. Maybe you don’t WANT to be pregnant? You being Terry with a "y" and all." Terry with a "y" thought about it for a while. "I guess I don’t know what to think. I have to admit, I’ve enjoyed being a female this past month, and this IS a part of being female…what really matters, I guess, is what Terri with an "i" thinks. Time to fire up the fax!" Terri turned on the trans-universal fax machine and composed a brief note that read:

"Terry, this is Terri. I/You have to give up smoking. Is there anything YOU need to tell me? You are late by about two weeks. Love, Terri."

"Could be awhile before Terry with a y" sees this and can respond. Let’s go out to lunch."

Terri and Sue ate a leisurely lunch at the Olive Garden. The chitchat was idle at first, but inevitably drifted around to the topic of pregnancy. "If you can’t go back to the other universe and be Terry, what are you going to do, Terri?" Sue asked.

"I’d never thought of children," Terri said, "but if it’s all up to me, I will keep the baby. I just can’t see the other alternatives, not for me anyway. I wouldn’t be the first single mother, that’s for sure. And I’m financially capable of handling this, though emotionally…that’s something else again. What about you? Would you ever have children?"

"I’d like to some day," Sue said. "I want to be married, though. Someday I’ll find the right man."

"I’d like to be married too if I’m going to be a parent," Terri said. "It’s just that I always thought I’d be married to a woman, not a man!" She sighed. "It’s been hard this past month, because Terry with a "y"s brain is still in control, and he likes women. I have to concentrate to not look at pretty women and flirt with them. I even thought, well, I could fulfill every male’s fantasy of being in a female body and having unlimited lesbian sex, but that would not be fair to Terri with an "i". After all, I would not want her, in my body, to be picking up men."

"Well, I can’t help you there. Terri was as heterosexual as they come, even if she didn’t have a lot of time for men lately. Well, enough time at least once, I suppose!"

"Yeah…guess so." Terri laughed. "A bit more than I did. I haven’t made love, as Terry with a "y", for months now. Ah well. Best be getting home to see if any faxes came in."

 

 

 

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© 2001 by MJ. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.