Sadie Hawkins Day

by Sydney Michelle

 

Chapter Ten

 

"I, Jaimie, take thee, Blake, to be my lawfully wedded spouse, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and obey until death us do part."

Everybody hold your horses! This is going way too fast. How about more pre-marital counseling? Isn't it a rule you're supposed to be engaged five years? And what about sin? We've been doing it without benefit of ceremony. Doesn't that make this whole thing illegal?

"I, Blake, take thee, Jaimie, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death us do part."

I strolled carefully across the deck, making sure I didn't catch my heel in a crack. Jean and Jodi were already in the hot tub, drinks in hand, warm water lapping their ribs.

"Hi, Jaimie. We thought Blake had swallowed you up. You did get her off with the girls?"

"Hhm." I turned, letting my terry robe slip off my arms, heaping it on a deck chair. If my buddies approved of my bikini, I might get a little more action from Blake, not that I could imagine where I would get the energy. "What's the matter? Can't you guys keep your ladies' minds off stores for a little while?" I cocked a leg. My white sandal dipped slightly off my heel, my polished toes glinted in the shaded light.

"Wow! I wouldn't go on the beach alone in that little blue number. You might get more attention than you want." Leave it to Jean to make a joke.

"Like it?" I pointed my toes, pausing to admire the soft shine of my shin. I ran my hand inside my thigh, noting how much it had tightened up as I continued to lose weight. You couldn't see daylight between my thighs, but if I kept after it?

"What? The suit or the pose, you scamp?"

"Either. Both." I grinned.

"Tell. Has Blake made an honest boy of you yet?" Jean leaned forward, water lapping at his bandeau.

"C'mon. You look like the cat that ate the canary. Or maybe that's a canary eaten slowly by his cat." Jodi sipped his drink.

I poured myself a Bloody Mary, then stepped into the warm water. I closed my eyes, leaned back, sipped my drink as I stretched my legs across the tub, reaching for the seat with my toes. "Uhm. Feels good. Needed this."

"Why? I haven't seen you run down the beach. You and Blake disappeared on us early enough last night." Jean reached a manicured hand for his glass.

"There's more than one way to exercise. And stretch."

"Oh?"

Through barely parted lashes, I saw them lean forward, water lapping inside their cups. I raised my foot, toes pointed and lustrous as water flowed off them. "Uhm."

"Hey girlfriends! What's happening?" Jan's voice positively trilled behind me.

"Jaimie's holding out on us. Where you been anyway?"

"I had to touch up my hair after Drew dressed. That girl just won't keep her hands off my hair." Jan delicately pressed scarlet fingertips to the stiff curls behind his head. He untied his robe, letting it slide down his arms onto the bench. He was poured into a light blue maillot with waist cutouts. I could swear he bulged a bit upstairs. No wonder she, that is he, had finished second, the image of an innocently seductive sophisticate.

"If your lips weren't downstairs so much, maybe your hair would stay in place."

Jan arched his back, stretching a tapering arm. "I haven't noticed, roomie, you shying off when Blake guides you down."

I raised my chin. "It is a honeypot, you know. And afterwards when she's all ready, well, I don't go to sleep unsatisfied." I sipped my drink, peered through slitted eyes. "Maybe if our compadres dived a little more, we wouldn't be here alone."

Jean snorted. "I don't see your Blake here."

"Well, a girl has to recharge a little."

"Which girl? Her, or you?" Jean looked defiant.

"Me too. That's why I needed to relax. I mean you can only stretch so many ways."

"Why? Are you two exploring all the Kama Sutra positions?" Jodi stretched and laughed.

"No, but Blake is so loving. And so persistent. I thought I had her all relaxed this morning, purring like a pussycat. There I was, all stretched out on my belly on the deck, relaxing in the morning sun, and there she was, playing with my hair, blowing in my ear, nibbling my neck. I told her I was too pooped to pucker."

"And then?" Jan was quietly insistent.

"And then I felt her lift me to my knees, peel me, spread me."

"And then?" Jean licked his scarlet lips.

"And then I felt her get close between my knees, support me, position me."

"And then?" Jodie's chin was down to the water, his eyes bright.

"And then she petted me, stroked me, told me I was her own."

"And then?!" My friends' faces were inches from my own.

I smiled. "I'm not a virgin any more."

"She didn't?"

"She did!" Jodi bit.

"Did you like it too?" Jan looked at me intently.

"You too? And Drew? When?"

"This morning. After I came out of the shower and lay down, letting the film dry."

"You two? Both?" Jean looked shocked.

I glanced at Jan, who nodded. "Apparently our skirts incited our girls to let us know what it's really like to be women." I smiled shyly. "It was nice. I didn't know I had another charge left."

We settled back against the tub, sipping our drinks, nobody saying a word. Jodi finally cleared his throat, fingered his curl stack. "So what? So we're dishing dirt like a gaggle of girls. So Jan and Jaimie lifted their skirts, so to speak. Is any of us going to stop having his hair done?" Jodi spread scarlet tipped fingers over the water. "Or his nails? I don't think so. I'm not."

Jean cleared his throat. "I like feeling attractive. I like Nikki chasing me around the bedroom. The best part about heels? You can't run very fast."

"What about you, Scalp Woman? You aren't going to stop, not with that collection you've accumulated." Jodi looked intently at Jan.

"It's not so much!" Jan patted her curls, caressing stiff loops. "Besides this, there's just a switch and a little wiglet for when I pull my hair up."

"Right. Shelby and I almost didn't have room for your hair."

Jan looked petulant. "It's not that much. That blonde stack on your head didn't grow there. And Jaimie ordered the first one."

I patted Jan's hand. "That's alright. Blake and I get such a kick from how much you and Drew enjoy it. She touches your curls, then loses her fingers in them and you go all soft, then when we look around you're not there. Behind closed doors all we hear is, 'Don't! Stop! Don't stop!' A little later you're back, all rosy and pretending nothing happened."

"We don't! Do we?"

"Sure you do!" The Greek chorus was unanimous.

Jan smiled shyly, pleased if a little embarrassed. "What of it? Yes, I'll keep getting my hair done, and I'm going to let it grow." He tossed his head. "It would be nice for Drew to undo it, to feel it fall down over my body, and then lie back and let her make love through it."

"What about you, Jaimie? You bought every bridal magazine in town. I thought you were in hysterics when your polish chipped just before we went out to dinner." Jean was relentless.

"But we spent so much time in the salon getting ready! I wanted to look nice for Blake. I thought the repair wouldn't dry before we got to the supper club. My hair was up, my curls in place, I had squeezed into that sequined blue bodice so tight I could barely breathe."

"You didn't have any trouble breathing afterwards. Blake nibbled your neck and you breathed out, 'Oh, Blake! Yes, oh yes!' For someone who worried wearing a dress would destroy your manly image, you seem to have gotten over it."

"I wasn't wearing a dress then!"

"You hung that up for something 'more comfortable.' I'm not sure a filmy black sheathe and harem pants qualifies as 'masculine attire.' Do you?"

"Blake liked it." I was defiant. Blake had been all over me after I came out. She had been so moist just touching her had let her come. I liked that.

"I'm not disputing that. Did you?" Jean bored in for the kill.

"Yes." I barely heard myself. "I like being seductive and being seduced. I like being ready when I'm finished at the salon. I like to feel delicate things go on." I thought a moment. "And come off."

"I wish I had breasts."

"Huh?" Our heads pivoted toward Jan.

Jan looked defiant. "Well, I do. I like it when Drew sucks my nipples, and I like how she reacts when I suck hers. It must be wonderful to have them licked and sucked and fondled. They wouldn't have to be very big, but it would be nice for mine to press hers when we make love."

"You're serious?"

"Haven't you thought about it? To fill out your gown properly, to have a negligee drape from pert points? To feel your girl's tongue swirl warmly over tingly skin, you getting firmer under her caresses, your breath coming faster and harder?"

"I can't say I ever have." Jodi looked defiant.

"Oh really? I saw how you looked at those teensy bikini tops when we bought our suits. You were positively crestfallen when the girls steered us to one piece suits because we're so, so, under endowed."

"Maybe for a moment. But I'm not looking to enter any wet tee shirt contests."

"Neither am I." Jan smiled gently. "And I'm not thinking implants either. But can't you imagine how nice it would feel to communicate teat to teat? To press together when we make love? To have nipples peek provocatively from sensitive mounds?"

"Maybe." Jodi didn't look convinced.

Jan wiggled slightly, settling into a more comfortable position. He closed his mascaraed eyes and sipped his Bloody Mary. "Uhm, good." He ran a pointed crimson fingertip around the rim. "Try to imagine: a long, thick curl falls down your bare shoulder, into warm cleavage, nestles against a delicate mound peeking over a low cut bodice. Imagine the backs of your girl's fingers stroking it gently, brushing your flesh. Then she lifts the peach out of its lacy nest, her breath wafting over it, her lips washing softly against it. Imagine getting firmer with every touch, your breath coming faster and harder. In a final rush, you surrender to her and you become as one."

"If you put it that way." Jean's nostrils flared; he hunched down in the tub.

"Then imagine having your hair done: that long, thick curl being formed to rest against your neck, your throat, your bust. You know she's going to ravish you gently, so your bosom swells, pressing gently against soft lace shaping your mounds. By the time you're done, your eyes glisten, your heart pounds, your bosom heaves. All you want is for her to sweep you up in her arms, hold you, consume you. When it's all done, a wisp of a curl curves around your warmth, perfumed with your odors, a soft, fragrant reminder that you are hers and she yours."

"Oh, lordy, if Shelby were here, I'd throw myself at her feet and beg her to pop me." Jodi squeezed the red strip of cloth across his chest.

"So we all make standing appointments at Transformations? And no more snide 'Scalp Woman' comments?" Jan smiled in triumph.

"Yes, and no more comments." Jodi looked thoughtful. "Are they turning us into women? Are you sure a nip and tuck isn't on the agenda?"

Jan smiled gently. "Drew likes being plumbed too much. And I like popping my cork with her. We'd both be very disappointed with an equipment change. But I can dream a little about how it would be to have extras."

"Did it?" Jodi took a deep breath. "Hurt?"

Jan smiled softly. "Drew was gentle. Insistent, but gentle. Her fingers prepared me, and I had time to relax after, uh, entry. It felt nice, actually, growing while she worked with me. She reached around as she came, and I came, just a little, but nice. It put a wiggle in my walk." Jan looked gently at Jean. "You'll like it too. Just relax and enjoy letting Nikki work."

"You think?"

"I imagine the girls are comparing notes too. I wouldn't be surprised if you two lose your cherries before we head back Saturday."

Jean drank deep from his Bloody Mary. "You really think Nikki would? You know?"

Jan arched an eyebrow. "She did say you have nice tight buns. Hot cross buns, if I remember correctly."

Jean drained his drink and reached for the pitcher. "I'm toast. Nikki has the tickets to Memphis."

I grinned. "Well, Norma Jean, a contest winner should be able to handle anything. Just blow her a kiss, bend over and grab your skirts, and relax and enjoy. With any luck, she'll have you breathily moaning, 'I love it, rally I do.' Marilyn."

Jean grimaced. "That's Hepburn for your information. Not that it matters."

"You did the sex kitten so perfectly, you won the big prize. So try it, you'll like it."

"At least Nikki's not from Planet Bongo." Jan was a low budget, sci fi movie addict.

"Huh?"

"At least she knows what foreplay is, Day-el."

"Ohmigawd."

"I'd go down to the convenience store before they get back if I were you. Stock up on petroleum jelly in case she's in a cave bear mood. 'Me Shawna. You Jean. Come.' At least you can't get pregnant."

Jean made a face. "Ohmigawd."

Jodi patted Jean's hand. "Don't get up tight. Nikki loves being with you, just go with the flow. If you don't want to, she'll understand. But it would be too bad if you were the only virgin after this trip. We'd have to start calling you Doris."

"You think? And you want to?"

"I think Jan's right. They've at least compared notes. I think when they come back, Shelby and Nikki will be all prepared. Tonight, when we're all relaxed, I think I'll be giving her my all. How else can a girl prove her love for her woman?"

"I'm not a girl. Or a woman."

We gathered close to Jean. I took his hand. "Of course not. Neither am I, or Jan, or Jodi."

"So what are we? Mistresses? Concubines? Lesbos males?"

"Companions." Jan stroked Jean's forearm. "Co-men."

"Still men, right?"

"Last I checked, women still bear babies, men still plow the furrow."

"The latter is getting a little too close for comfort."

I squeezed Jean's hand. "Now who's getting nervous about their manhood? As long as Shelby hangs off the bed, panting, moaning she can't go on but don't stop, you'll have done for your lady what a man should do. Pilgrim."

Jean smiled wanly. "You really think so?"

"Sure. Blake could barely drag herself off on that shopping trip. And I've got a nice warm glow."

"Maybe it won't be too bad."

Jan patted Jean's arm. "Be positive. You let her get on top, then roll you over to finish and you'll love it. Next week under the dryers at Transformations, we'll be dreaming of how many positions the girls will put us through. Big curls, sparkly jewelry, perfume, something slinky and tight, and we'll be squealing with joy as they blow off the tops of our heads. Do it good enough, often enough, and Jaimie may not be the only bride in our bunch."

"You really think so?"

"Sure! Where else would Nikki find a loving piece of all purpose tail? Variety is the spice of life and we'll provide our women all the variety they can stand."

"Marriage?"

"We can share Jaimie's stash of bridal 'zines. He says they're just for 'dos, but I caught him flipping some satin and lace numbers with lots of petticoats. Just pledge we won't choose perfectly awful and useless bridesmaids dresses when we stand up for one another."

"You'd be a bride?" Jodi sounded incredulous.

"Groom's hair is so boring. Drew's would look nice, something restrained to tame those wild, red curls, but I'd want curls piled high and cascading down when I pledge myself to her. Yes, I'd be the bride."

"Wedding dress, bouquet and veil, and everything?"

"Everything. Including love, honor and obey."

"Going to be a good little wifey, is that it?" Jean could be cruel when trying to joke.

"In case you haven't noticed, there's not a big market for English degrees out there. At least Jodi's getting a teacher's certificate. I'd have to intern. Drew gets her law degree, we can make it on one income."

"Have you asked her yet?"

"It just hasn't seemed the right time. What could I offer her? Besides I kinda hoped . . ."

"What? That she would ask you?" I started to giggle, putting my hand over my mouth. "Oh. You do, don't you?"

Jan looked down into the water. "Blake asked you."

I took his hand. "Look, I'm still not sure she was serious. But if she is, we'll work on Drew. If friends can't get two people together who are already doing the midnight tango, we couldn't be worth much." We all slugged down a Bloody Mary, sitting quietly, trying to become accustomed to everything that had come spilling out. We were committed to hair and makeup and dresses, to becoming comen, to hoping for wedding bells and bridal dresses, to imagining breasts responding to our ladies' caresses. It was a lot to take in.

 

§§

 

"Knock, knock! Anybody home?"

"Blake, Honey! Out here! In the hot tub."

The girls came bustling onto the deck, hands laden with shopping bags. "Get out of there and dry off. We've brought presents for our girls."

"Presents? Show me, show me!"

We scrambled out, giggling with excitement and from the liberal ingestion of Bloody Marys. We got wet sloppy kisses, our suits dampening their slacks and blouses where they held us tight. We toweled down, getting into terry robes while our ladies arranged bundles. Finally the tableau was complete, we in our robes, smooth shins shining as we leaned forward in anticipation. The girls lined up against the rail, the blue Gulf billowing lightly behind them.

Shelby started things off. That woman may have a hard time reading, but she makes it up with a gift for gab. "What's a vacation without shopping, without souvenirs? I mean we've been building up memories, very nice memories," she smiled deeply at Jodi, "and we're not done yet. But it's always nice to have something tangible that brings it all back. And you have all been so sweet, so loving, so special to help us win and afford this trip, well, we just couldn't let you go unremembered. We each found something special for our girl, something we hope we can both enjoy for a long time. And every time we touch it and hold it, it will bring back fond memories of when you were sweet, and loving, and beautiful, and just too sexy for words.

"Me first, since I'm standing here. Jodi, Sweetie, can you come to your lovin' Mama?"

Jodi blushed, stood, walked to her, stood close. All I could think was "engagement ring."

"Jodi, Sweetie, it's not all I want to give you, not yet, but you are just so beautiful and loving, and sexy as hell. I love you bunches. For you."

You'd think a mid-year law student could do better than "I love you bunches" but I've learned to treasure "I love you's" any way they come. Shelby handed Jodi three boxes, a small black one, a slightly larger white one, and a large lavender one tied with stiff, rose pink ribbon. Jodi looked expectantly at the small boxes, set them down on the picnic table.

He slipped off the bow, pulled off the top, spread open red tissue paper. He gasped, reached in, and held up the contents, a black, red lace trimmed Merry Widow with a nipped waist. It was gorgeous, very sexy, very feminine.

"There's more." Shelby looked like the cat that ate the canary.

There was. Under another layer of tissue was a filmy, barely there, knee length black negligee. You could see Jodi through both layers. If ever a publically displayed gift said "This body is mine," that was it. Jodi didn't know whether to be pleased or embarrassed, so he managed both. Pleased won out when Shelby kissed him deeply, her hand sliding around to cup his buns.

Shelby's fingers cupped his neck, her forehead resting against his as she murmured, softly but clearly enough for us to hear, "Jodi, Sweetie, you're just so beautiful, and I want everyone to know how much you please me. It must have been hard the last few weeks, but I appreciate everything you've done. And you gotta admit, it has been a whale of a turn on. Jodi, Sweetie, I hope you'll keep dressing for me and we enjoy these together. A lot. For a long time."

It was more proposition than proposal, but Jodi looked pleased. He certainly kissed her like it, totally wrapped around her. It was just short of indecent before Blake cleared her throat.

"Oh. Sorry." Jodi turned expectantly to the other presents. The white box slid off, revealing one in mauve, which opened for a bottle of perfume. It was floral, atar of roses and violets, with a hint of clover blossoms. "Are you implying I stink?"

"Sweetie, after you roll me over in the clover, we both smell to high heaven. You dab a little of that in the right spots and we'll both get all yeasty, Honey Buns." Shelby pinched his butt familiarly. It was hers. She knew it, Jodi knew it, we all knew it. Jodi's virginal hours were surely numbered.

Jodi blushed, eyes sparkling, smiled big at being so publicly claimed. Jodi fumbled with the last box, a jewelry box. He, we, expected a ring. Maybe just a friendship band, but a ring. Jodi's smile froze on his face. He held up a brooch, actually a small butterfly with lots of small stones on gold tone metal. It was very pretty, lovely in fact, Shelby has great taste in jewelry, it just wasn't what Jodi had built up his hopes for. Expectations have rarely risen and fallen so fast.

"Let me help you with that." Shelby stepped in close, undoing the clasp. Jodi wasn't quite as stiff as someone before a firing squad, but he was obviously disappointed and trying not to show it. She pinned the brooch on his robe and patted the lapel possessively. "There. A bit too dressy for this, but it will show off nicely when we go to dinner tomorrow night." She kissed him lightly, then hugged him close, her cheek pressed to his. "I love you, Sweetie."

"I love you too, Shelby-Bear." Jodi smiled wanly, twined his hand in hers. They moved to the bench clearing the deck. He had to have some hope, after all she had said she loved him. And picking out a ring should be a joint project.

Nikki was up next with gifts for Jean. The pattern was the same, lingerie, perfume, a pin. We all knew we were being claimed, we were officially couples, with our ladies exercising full conjugal rights. We had been pursued, and we had let them catch us, and now we were caught in the trap. It was a very pleasant trap, one we would have been thrilled with a few months ago, just not the one we had decided we wanted that morning.

Drew was up next, and Jan was the picture of the delighted girlfriend. He knew from Jodi and Jean that a ring wasn't in the works; he settled for public affirmations of affection. He took every opportunity to kiss and hold Drew, to give full access without being obscene. He was affectionate, and grateful, and loving and Drew melted into him.

"Jan, Honey-Bear, you're the most wonderful lover a woman could ever have. You're warm, supporting, and affectionate. I just want everyone to know how much I appreciate you. Besides you have great hair, and you are the cutest thing ever in that precious little red teddy."

"I love you, too, Drewkins."

"Appreciate." How lame. After a fair start, Drew passed over Jan's love as though it were poison. What does a girl have to do to get a woman to commit?

Blake walked to the table. "Jaimie, Sugar-Bear, I want you to know I love you deeply. You've been a good sport, and I appreciate that. I hope you have come to like it, because I have. I thought it would just be awhile, but you are so loving, I would hate for it to end. These things can't express how much I love you, to say how much I want you with me. But you are lovely, and sweet, and you will always be my queen regardless of what the judges said. These are for you."

The lingerie was a bustier, red with black trim, boned, with lace bows and little rose bud appliques. The gown was red, sheer, floor length, with elbow length sleeves, perfect for trapping our heat. The perfume was violets and lemon, with just a hint of musk for bite. The jewelry was a gold tone necklace with a hummingbird pendant profiled, green, and red, and blue and gold, with an amethyst eye. How appropriate. I was flapping as hard as I could but stuck in neutral.

Blake enfolded me in her arms, her lips on mine, kissing me until I was lost in her closeness. The smell of her, the feel of her, the very nearness of her was like a drug: a rush, a hunger that could never be satisfied. Feeding the habit of her only sharpened the hunger for more, to please her so as to be near her, in her, to be one with her.

Her hands lightly stroked my back. She pulled her head back, smiled at me with her eyes. We rocked together a moment. Our fingers entwined as I leaned against her, our heads resting on each others shoulders. Her lips whispered into my ear, "I love you, Sugar-Bear."

I whispered back, "I love you too, Blakey-Bear."

"You were very sweet on the deck, Sugar-Bear."

"Sugar-Bear loves raising her tail for her Blakey-Bear."

We separated, slightly. She sat me gently on the tub bench. I couldn't believe what I saw. Blake sank onto one knee, took my hand in hers.

"My most darling Jaimie, I asked you before and I've assumed you would, but before our friends, will you accompany me through life, be my beautifully loving companion? Will you marry me?"

I was stunned. After playing at fiancee, after being cajoled into dresses and a hairdo and makeup in public, after being twisted into more positions than a pretzel and deflowered, now she asks me publically to marry her? I looked into those deep brown eyes, that anxious face topped with that wavy black hair I loved so much to touch.

I could barely whisper, "Yes, oh yes. I will be your wife." Wife? What had I said? What was I thinking? I wasn't!

She swept me up, crushing me to her. I flung my arms around her neck, holding on for dear life as we sucked and breathed, trying to swallow each other whole. Dimly I grew aware of applause, of hands touching my shoulders. We turned to our friends gathered round, the women beaming, the guys teary eyed.

"You can't say now you didn't know what was going on. We all saw it. Congratulations, Jaimie." Jean was always a master of the obvious.

"Congratulations, roomie. Will I be your best man? Or maid of honor?" Jan got straight to the point

"I, I don't know. It's all so fast. I do want you next to me."

"Look, dear heart, no ice cream color bridesmaids dresses. I'd look awful in raspberry." Jodi was certain I was to be a bride.

"Loretta will have to plan your whole look, hair, makeup, the works. We may not be virgins walking down the aisle, but at least you can look like a blushing bride." Jan touched my hair. "You ought to get a fall. Curls behind a diadem, spiral curls on your shoulders and back, you'll be radiant."

"Just leave everything to us. You'll make a beautiful bride." Jean took my hand, hummed Here Comes the Bride.

And that's the way my life has been ever since Blake first seduced me into this. Everyone has been running my life but me!

 

Chapter Eleven

 

"In so much as they have exchanged vows of their love and commitment, they will now exchange rings as a token of those vows."

Drew bends down to Dale, our ring bearer. She fumbles a moment with the ties. She reaches across, slips her fingers in Blake's hand. Blake stretches forward a perfectly manicured hand to the minister, depositing two golden bands, mine with a small ruby, hers with a small diamond. The minister holds them up, one in each hand, turns to the altar and makes an obeisance to bless them. She turns back to us and the congregation, eyes twinkling.

"These rings are an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual promise, signifying to us the union of God and His church.

"Bless, O Lord, the givers of these rings that they may live in Thy peace and continue in Thy favor, all the days of their lives."

"Jaimie, I give thee this ring as a sign of my love, and so doing thereby endow thee with all that I possess, my life, my honor, and all my worldly goods."

The six weeks after we got back were hectic. We were head over heels, totally distracted in love. We were either in College Switch, or driving to College Switch, or wishing we were in College Switch, or on the phone with our loves at College Switch. We had to be at NSU at least some of the time, to complete our courses and projects, to interview for jobs, to get some sleep.

We were comen, companions for our women and we loved it. Every Friday we were in Transformations, being transformed and relishing it. We attacked the resale shops to build a basic wardrobe on our poor budgets and the promise of graduation money. Being on the graduation list, the credit card offers came rolling in. We gladly accepted most of them and tried them out quickly. We figured we could roll the credit balances for at least a couple of years at virtually no interest until our paychecks caught up with our wardrobes.

Before we went back to ESU we had all made a big decision. Since we wanted to be with our honey bunnies as much as possible, wanted to keep being done and dressing for the fantastic sex we had gotten used to, we would have to refocus our job search around College Switch and go through the interview process in dresses or feminine suits. It would be easier being hired in dresses than explaining why we showed up to work in them.

Our women helped us out as best they could, wardrobe coaching, shopping hints, accessories and even a few items that fit. Each of us we made it back to NSU with at least two outfits suitable for interviewing.

I had it easiest: Librarian's are not expected to be the epitome of style. A sweater, a few blouses, a couple of nice skirts, and I could pass muster until I could find a suit I could afford. Blake helped me buy one the first week of Dillon's spring sale. I enjoyed buying something to wear that she approved of; it made me feel all warm and fuzzy, like I really was hers.

The sweater and skirt was Okay, but it's better to interview dressed to the nines. A girl has to make a good first impression, doesn't she? A nice leg, so long as you don't overdo it, never hurt, and sitting properly in a nice suit dress lets the woman interviewer know that you aren't going to mess up the routine by hopping every pair of pants in the office.

When Blake found out ESU was hiring for the fall, I made a beeline down to the library. It turned out Thelma had worked awhile there as a student. With her recommendation in hand, I got fast tracked to a final interview. I was terminal, wanting so badly a job that would just be perfect and being afraid that something from the Sadie Hawkins' contest would get out to queer the deal.

Thelma was able to coach me over the phone a little, she's just the sweetest, kindest thing, beauty queen and everything and we all love her to death, so I breezed through my interview with Dr. Moreno-Crane. I had decent grades, which didn't hurt, and was sincerely interested in being at ESU and already knew a lot about the campus, but it was having just come from the salon that clinched it. Marjorie, that is Dr. Moreno-Crane, puts the lie to Librarians as dowdy spinsters. She had gorgeous chestnut hair, immaculately styled in an asymmetric 'do off a bare brow, and she wanted people who could present a professional public image. Loretta had given me a slightly bouffant style with a deep ruff around the sides. It was similar enough to Marjorie's that she saw I was what she was seeking. I had a job in hand starting the first of July before the semester ended.

Jan probably had the hardest time. Master's in English are a dime a dozen so she really had to dress above her income. Fortunately she has both an innate sense of style and an easy figure to fit. It did take a little padding, Okay, a lot, but it's easier to add than subtract. She took to dresses like a duck to water and the shirtwaists in the vintage and resale shops showed her off beautifully. She had even more girdles and shapers than hair pieces, but with her waist cinched down just over the twenty-six inch standard, she looked darling. Of course she has to tone down her preference in hair a little, but that makes those weekend 'dos all the more special.

She would have driven herself crazy looking, but she had already realized that an English MA has to take whatever comes along. She had just about resigned herself to trying sales when Drew found out about some secretarial and editing positions at the ESU Press. The annual graduating spouse turnover struck a little earlier than usual. She got an interview during semester finals, actually she had to rearrange a final to make it but they're sympathetic for job interviews in English. She had an offer before the graduation ceremony. Having a College Switch number for a call back didn't hurt. It's more secretarial and proofing than editing, but a job's a job.

Jodi finished her Master's in History but with a teaching certificate. That meant she could always get a job, the trick was to get one near ESU which churned those out by the bushel. She had leads, but no position, before graduation. She resigned herself to making the rounds just before the fall to see who might have backed out of a contract. Worse came to worse, she could sub until she could find something.

The bright spot in her life was that she was actually the first of us to get a ring. Shelby may have been a little dense, but when she picked up on Jodi's disappointment, she decided Jodi's finger just didn't look right bare. Besides, Shelby wanted to warn off any predatory Drama majors and a ring might help Jodi with her interviews. The only problem was Shelby slipped the ring in Jodi's rice pudding April Fool's weekend. Jodi almost choked when she bit down. It's a wonder pudding head didn't swallow the thing. She was a little late making it back to NSU that week and I swear that weekend cost her chances at two jobs because she was too exhausted and starry eyed to make a decent impression.

Maybe not. After all we had always told her that if she wound up teaching elementary school kids, she'd have to cling to the rope for dear life. If she didn't the school would have to send a search party after her every day. Worse, she'd misplace her whole class the first week.

Jodi went all out from that day forward. With a ring, she was an official fiancee, so she stayed in skirts and dresses. When the women learned her ring wasn't from a fellah, she was included in some of the "wedding bells will ring" groups which made her feel more comfortable.

Jean's wardrobe problem was almost as bad as Jan's. She was finishing an MBA with concentrations in Purchasing and Inventory. She joked that was an ideal major for a future housewife, since purchasing would be her major public task for the family. The problem was she needed to look femininely professional fast to get a job to tide her over until Nikki was able to afford to retire her to a life of leisure. Getting a professional position requires at least three interviews, and you better not recycle your outfits at any of them.

Thank goodness for networks! Loretta referred Jean to Annie at Scherazades's who took her to Kaye Berry in Young Ladies at Dillon's. She got the treatment and we got an education. With careful selection, six separates could make nine different outfits, enough to get her through the interview process. Jean's a joker but she is organized and determined. Between the Net, the ESU placement center, and networking as hard as she could, she put together half a dozen possibilities. By graduation, she had a final interview with a small bank chain headquartered in College Switch.

 

§§

 

Not everything was sweetness and light. Four guys start looking good, and it gets noticed. Any sudden change is, and this was a lulu. Some women feared we were poaching their territory. Frankly we looked better than some because we worked at it. Jodi's advisor "suggested" the NSU's counseling service, the kind of "suggestion" that's tantamount to an order. When she went in, we went along for moral support. That caused a stir, even in a place that prides itself on being unflappable. The upshot was that we were all interviewed.

Dr. Fisbee was a small woman with ash brown hair, you could call it mousy, drawn into a bun on back of her head. She wore a lab coat that she left open exposing a paisley print dress that wasn't her color.

"Won't you sit down, Miss Blair? Is that how you prefer to be addressed?"

"That's fine."

"That's a lovely dress you're wearing. Do you wear it often?"

"Is it wrinkled? I've only worn it once since it came back from the cleaners."

"No, it's nice. You like wearing dresses?"

"Skirts and blouses are easier."

"Don't you like shirts and trousers?"

"They're Okay, but I like for Blake to see my legs."

"Blake's your boyfriend?"

"My fiancee. She's a woman."

"A woman. I see. Do you, that is, are you intimate?"

"That's how I started wearing dresses."

"You weren't before?"

"No, we were. Intimate, I mean."

"And it wasn't satisfactory?"

"I thought it was. But now it's fantastic!"

"And is your friend, uh, Miss Slater, is, uh, she intimate as well?"

"No!"

"Interesting. She doesn't have sex."

"That's not so at all. She's engaged to Shelby and they're very happy."

"Is Shelby a man?"

"No! What are you trying to find out?"

"You and your friends are most unusual. Apparently there have been no signs of cross dressing or other unusual sexual proclivities and suddenly you all show up in dresses. Very nice ones, I might add, but dressed and with your hair styled elaborately."

"Don't you like how it's done?"

"No, no, it's very becoming. Do you take everything personally?"

"After all, this interview is about me. And Jodi, I suppose."

"Ah, you have a point. Sudden changes are often a sign of stress, of something that isn't going the way you'd like."

"I'm engaged and I love her and she loves me. What's not to like?"

"And she wants you to wear dresses? How do you feel about that?"

"I want her to be happy. When she's happy, I'm very happy."

"Does she control your life?"

"She's the center of my life now. Isn't that how lovers are supposed to be?"

Dr. Fisbee leaned forward. "Can you answer a question directly?"

"I thought I was."

"Do you like wearing dresses? Or is that something Blake makes you do?"

"I like it that Blake likes it. If she didn't, I wouldn't. But I've come to like them over the last three months. Is that direct enough?"

Dr Fisbee leaned back. "Yes, thank you. What about your hair and makeup? Do you like those too?"

I thought a moment before replying. "I like getting my hair done. A lot. Once it's done, it's just there, unless I look into a mirror. Or when Blake touches it." I smiled, remembering how she had stroked it the past weekend. "The makeup's kind of a pain. I mean I have to be extra careful about how I shave, and I'm still learning the tricks, but it's part of the look."

"The look?"

"Sure. When I'm all together, and I know it, and Blake knows it, well we both know that it's going to be fantastic."

"It?"

I lowered my eyes a little. "Intimacy. You know? Sex? I like being attractive."

"So she takes the initiative? And you like that?"

"Sure it's nice being pursued around the bedroom. You know how it is."

"How is it?"

"You know. Little touches, little kisses in special places, little whisperings of affection. You know how it is."

"No, not really."

Silence. Total silence. "Oh. I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry for me?"

"Has it been long?"

"Long what?"

"Since, since whatever. I shouldn't pry. But I'm sorry if you aren't receiving affection."

"I don't need your pity."

"I wasn't! Honest! It's just that it's so good for us, and well . . ."

"Do you share? With Jodi, for instance?"

"Dr. Fisbee! We're good friends but we're strictly faithful And so are our women. We keep them smiling and very happy, thank you very much."

"I apologize. I didn't mean to imply . . ."

"Apology accepted." I sniffed and straightened my skirt. "It's just none of us would dream of doing anything like that. After we're married, we never intend to forget that wives are lovers too. We aren't going to dry up and get sloppy and let them forget we're part of their lives."

"Maybe if I hadn't . . ."

"I didn't mean to imply . . ."

"Quite all right. Perhaps it was true. But we're here to talk about you. Do you ever take the initiative?"

"With Blakey-Bear? Sure. You can't let life get in a rut. When I'm fresh from the salon, I'm practically beside myself. A little perfume, a little something lacy, and I can't get her clothes off fast enough after she hits the door."

"So you don't have, uh, performance problems?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Sunday mornings, I'm usually pretty exhausted. But Blakey is very understanding. We get it done if she still has an edge on."

"You get it done? How?"

"Some things are just between her and me. Let's just say I'll be a good wife, anyway she needs me to be."

"So you think of yourself as a wife? Isn't that unusual?"

"I suppose, but it fits us. I mean she's going to make the most, so at some point, after we have kids, I imagine I'll stay home with them."

"You'd like to have children?"

"Sure."

"Have you and Blake talked about that?

"A little. Nothing specific. But we'd both like to have kids. It's part of marriage."

"Not all couples have children."

"Maybe not. But we'd like to."

"You don't care what other people think, do you?"

"Sure I do. Not everybody, I mean, but it's nice to have friends, real friends. Like we are with Jodi."

"So you're coming here today was an act of friendship?"

"Sure. Her advisor was pretty insistent she see a shrink, sorry, so we came along for support. She's shy sometimes, so we thought it would help."

"You all refer to yourselves as 'she'?"

"Pretty much since we got back from Spring Break. That's when we knew they really liked it, and us, and we liked how they reacted, and it was fun. So we just decided if we were going to look nice, we should just use 'she.' Kinda blend in."

"I see. Does wearing a dress make you, uh, excited?"

"Huh?"

"Do you get an erection when you put on a dress?"

"Only if it's something special and Blakey and I are going to be affectionate." I fiddled with my skirt. "I mean it's nice that my clothes look nice, fit well, be a good color, but it's Blake that lights my fire if that's what you're driving at. If it hadn't been for the dance, I probably wouldn't have worn a dress, but now it's kinda nice. Feeling her lift my skirt, I mean. You know how it is with your honey bunny."

"Stop that!"

"What?"

"Implying I have a lover!"

"Husband? Significant other? Surely you?"

"I'm divorced."

"Oh. I'm so sorry. Was he, was it, bad? The divorce, I mean."

"It wasn't good." Dr. Fisbee's eyes darted to a picture of two children.

"You had children?"

"Have. Two. We have joint custody. It's his six months now. With his younger model."

"I'm sorry. For you, and the children. It must be hard, bouncing back and forth."

"They manage. I manage. We all manage."

"I'm so sorry. Life should be better than managing."

"Sometimes you just have to settle."

I touched her hand. "I'm sure they love you. And miss you."

She sighed. "I hope so." She sat still for a moment gazing at the photo. She shuddered and turned back to me. "Just a few more questions. How's school?"

"Almost done, thank goodness. I get my Master's in May. Library Science."

"Any problems with your professors?"

"Can't they ever schedule their projects so they aren't due at the same time?

Dr. Fisbee ducked her head. "Do you sleep alright?"

I giggled. Just a little. I couldn't help it. "When Blake let's me."

"Let's stick with normality and get through this, shall we? Do you have trouble concentrating?"

"There's so much going on, finishing my degree, looking for a job, loving Blake, I feel like I need two more of me sometimes."

"Been there. Done that. Any drastic change in appetite? Erratic eating?"

"I'm trying to lose a few more pounds, but Blake doesn't want me too thin."

"Do you purge? Fast for non-religious purposes?"

"No. To both."

"Do you have thoughts of suicide? Or doing harm to yourself or others?"

"Other than wanting to skin Blake's profs now that they've poured on the cases, no."

Dr. Fisbee smiled. "That's normal. I have a few Deans I'd like to scalp."

"Do you believe people are conspiring against you?"

"We weren't welcomed back with a parade, witness our being here. But it's settling down."

"Can you answer a question simply yes or no?"

"Sometimes." I smiled. "That wasn't on the list, was it?"

Dr. Fisbee relaxed. "No, no it wasn't. As a preliminary assessment, I'd say you are not depressed, suicidal, or a danger to others. Unusual, definitely, but there's no law against that. There almost certainly was some decades ago, but now? No. Except for a role reversal you seem to be comfortable with, even if it wasn't entirely your own idea, you seem to be coping reasonably well. You're a bit too happy to be in the middle of the great bell shaped curve, but probably no more so than most people newly engaged or newly married. You are empathetic but have a mind of your own. Value friends, and are supportive, but aren't controlled by them In short, except for an inability to give a short answer, you are hopelessly well adjusted." She sighed. "If your friend is anything like you, I can't see why we should waste either of our time."

"Thank you, Doctor." I stood up, adjusted the fall of my skirt.

"One more question."

What? Remember to smile. "Certainly."

"Who does your hair? And do you think I should try a different shade?"

 

 

 

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