Trick or Treat 3

by Enigma

Part 02

Saturday, Dec. 19

   

Amy woke me the next day with breakfast on a tray. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was nearly 10 am. After the episode in the middle of the night, I needed the extra rest. She started my meal off with a lingering, tenderly passionate kiss that swept the rest of the cobwebs from my awakening mind. She sat in the comfortable chair near the bed as I ate; seeming to soak up the sight of me, home again. That, as much as nearly anything else, helped bolster my self-image, and a tiny spark of joy in what I am, who I am, regardless of the configuration and imperfections of my body. It felt good, and I swore to myself that I would find all the happiness I could in life as it came to me, putting the trials of the recent past where they belonged: in the past.

When I'd eaten, Amy hovered over me as I got myself up and into the bathroom. Per Doctor Miller's instructions, Amy removed my bandage, and I was able to take a shower for the first time in over a week. Amy joined me, and lovingly soaped my body, playing with the parts that gave me pleasure, gently and carefully cleaning the now healing wound that still made its angry presence known on my belly. She washed herself, then used her flowery shampoo on my hair, and applied cream rinse. We patted dry with soft towels, and then I sat at the vanity as Amy used the blow dryer on my hair. In the mirror I could see that my hair had grown enough in the last few weeks that the light brown roots were becoming quite noticeable against my artificially black tresses.

"You think maybe we could visit Life Style, and see if Ellie can do something with my hair sometime soon?" I asked.

"Sure, when you think you're up to it. Maybe I can get my color touched up as well."

Amy continued to dry, and then lovingly brush out my hair as we enjoyed the companionship, neither feeling the need to talk further. But after a while, Amy gave voice to her musings. "You know, before this I'd never had a lesbian fantasy, or any desire to be intimate with another woman, but with you it seems so easy, so natural. I wonder of it's just that I know it's you in there that makes it ok, or if I've had latent bisexual leanings all along?" She was silent again for a while as she stroked my hair to a natural sheen. "Whichever it is, it's nice to know that it won't be a problem whichever way you end up going."

I snorted. "You mean you won't kick me out when I become James again?"

She thought a moment. "Well, maybe. Depends on if I get any better offers! I wonder… Do you suppose Erin would be interested?" She dodged my playful swat at her fanny and stuck her tongue out at me. The camaraderie and light-hearted banter felt so good that I broke out in a giggles, even while clutching my abdomen to try to minimize the discomfort.

Amy helped me back to the bed, and cuddled beside me. I spoke softly, "Ok, your turn."

"Hunh?" I could see she was suddenly nervous.

"Time to tell me about what I've put you through these past few weeks."

I have to give her credit. She looked like she wanted to bolt, but I could see her gather herself, and absently stroke my arm while she pulled her thoughts together.

"The last few weeks before you left were so hard. You were shutting me out at every turn, asking for space, and I was so afraid I'd made you hate me. You wouldn't tell me what you felt. You wouldn't let me love you. I tried so hard to get you to see Rick, but that just seemed to push you further away. All of that was bad, but then I thought my world had ended when I found that note." She paused, desperately trying to control her emotions as she relived that moment. Despite her best effort, a tear trickled from one eye, and I gently brushed it away.

"God, Amy. I am so sorry about what I did…" She gently touched a finger to my lips to stop me.

"Then Paul showed up, telling me what you'd made him promise. He held me as I cried, and put me to bed. He called work for me, telling them I'd be out a few days. He took a leave of absence from his own job, nearly quitting over what his boss had done to you. I was a wreck those first few days. We tried everything we could think of to find you, but didn't really know what to do, where to look. Nobody we talked to knew where you'd gone. I checked with Sol and Rick, but even friendship wouldn't make them ignore doctor-patient confidentiality. The whole time you were gone I couldn't even find out from them if you'd been to see them. The police wouldn't help since you left of your own free will." She was almost hyperventilating, and I hugged her tightly for a few moments as she calmed down. She finally resumed the narrative, "I was like a zombie those first few weeks, merely going through the motions because I didn't know what else to do. I didn't sleep much. I am amazed I didn't make terrible mistakes treating my patients." She gave a mirthless chuckle, "I dropped some weight, so I weighed as little as you." She stopped again, and I felt her tensing, steeling herself for something.

"Then I found your message on the machine. I fell completely apart. I called Paul, and was crying so much I doubt he could understand a word. He must have broken a speed record getting here, and all I could do was cry. He listened to the message, and tried to calm me, making the best of it, telling me we at least knew you were OK. He put me to bed, and before he left, I asked him to not leave me alone. He lay on top of the covers and held me all night." Tears now started leaking from both her eyes, and she searched my eyes, begging for understanding. "When I awoke before dawn, I felt his arms around me. At first I thought it was you. God, how I wanted it to be you. I kissed you, stroked you in the darkness. But it wasn't you, and suddenly I didn't care. I needed to be loved! When Paul started waking, he thought it was you making love to him, asking in a whisper if it was you. God forgive me, I told him it was, so he wouldn't stop. Before it was over, we both knew who the other was, but we didn't care." She sobbed. "God, James, it was so wonderful to feel that way, but so…" She searched my eyes for acceptance as she searched for the right word, "… so painful at the same time. To know I loved you so much, but to get such fulfillment from making love to someone else." She shuddered as the words stopped, and buried her head into my side. I held her tight, making soothing noises, gently stroking her head as she sobbed quietly.

After a long time, she pulled back and looked up at me, saying in a very small voice, "I'm so sorry, James. Can you forgive me?"

I tried to put all the love I had for this wonderful creature into my intent gaze as I asked, "Can you forgive me?" She just looked at me, not knowing how to respond. "Look, Amy. We both did things that we look back on and wish we hadn't, or feel weren't right. All I know is that I love you, maybe more now than ever. I don't think I'll ever forget the things I've done. How I've hurt you. But I want to get past all that. I want to be with you, if you'll have me." I'd intended to say more, but at that point she began smothering me with kisses, gently hugging me, trying not to hurt my still tender abdomen. She seemed so joyful and exuberant that I could do nothing but respond in kind. Soon her hands began to wander, and despite my weakened condition, I began to respond. She nibbled one of my nipples, and a tingling spread from that hardening point, spreading to engulf my other breast, and flowing slowly down to my crotch, where I felt a fullness developing that I'd not noticed lately. As much as I was enjoying the attention, the excitement and emotions quickly drained my meager energy reserves, and I drifted off to sleep as Amy still caressed and kissed me all over. I never did get the rest of her story, but she'd told me what she needed to get off her chest.

I resurfaced sometime later to find Amy no longer in bed with me. I heard voices, and gingerly rose from the bed, wrapping myself in a robe. After visiting the restroom, I walked carefully to the living room, following the sound of quiet conversation. As I entered, I saw Erin sitting on the sofa quietly speaking to Amy. When she caught sight of me her face lit up, and Amy turned, knowing it would be me. There was a gentle smile on her lips.

"Erin stopped by to see how you're doing."

I walked over and sat beside Erin, pulling her into a hug while trying not to strain my wound. "I'm doing fine. It's so good to see you. How are you doing?"

We talked for a while, until Erin could see I was tiring. She said goodbye with a chaste peck on the cheek and a shy glance toward Amy, and then stood to leave, with Amy walking her to the door. I saw Amy embrace Erin, then whisper in her ear before Erin walked out.

Amy sent me back to bed, and shortly brought in a light snack that we ate in companionable silence.

Sunday, Dec. 20

Sunday was another day that I spent mostly in bed, though I did manage a little more time out in the sun. Amy hovered around me much of the day, as if she feared I would vanish if she let me out of her sight. The warm sun felt good, but the angry redness on my taut tummy was disconcerting, and continually drew my gaze.

Late morning, the doorbell rang. I just stayed in the sun as Amy went to answer it. She soon returned with our latest visitor.

"Hey, stranger. I heard you were back. How are you doing?"

I looked up at Sandy with mixed feelings. "Hi, Sandy. I'm doing better, now that I'm back home. How about you?"

She responded with a wry grin, "Well, I've been better. In fact, I am better now that you're home."

We talked for a while, and I noticed Amy was quite reserved with Sandy. I wondered if all this pain would be just a waste, given the apparent gulf between them. Sandy examined the wound so openly displayed on my scantily clad body, and offered her expertise to minimize the scarring when it healed. Sandy apologized several times over the course of her visit for putting me through all this, but each time I pointed out that I'd gone into it with my eyes open, and had made all my own decisions. I tried to make her see that I didn't blame her for what had happened, but I don't think I convinced her. After a while, when the tension between them didn't ease, Sandy sadly took her leave. I decided that I needed to do something about the situation, as I wasn't about to let this exercise be in vain.

After Sandy left, Amy and I talked a lot, and it felt really good to reestablish the soul-deep connection we felt for each other. As the day progressed, you could almost feel the tension between us fading away, like dry ice left out in the sun. I must really have lost my mind to throw this life away.

I startled awake at one point in the night, with memories of an erect penis spewing warm fluid into my mouth with me on my knees looking up into the face of a monster. My heart was beating madly, and took some time to slow, but Amy seemed to sleep through my terror.

Monday, Dec. 21

I didn't wake fully till late on Monday, though I remembered Amy kissing me goodbye as she left for work. I rose and ate a light breakfast. While I was puttering around the office, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Ms. Hasting?"

I felt my gut clench, "Yes. Who is this?"

"Ms. Hastings, my name is Tad Robbins. I don't believe we've ever met, but I am a director at InfoSource." My hand started to shake, and I fought the desire to slam the phone down. My last contact with this company still gave me occasional nightmares.

Fighting for control, I was proud of how calmly I responded, "What can I do for you, Mr. Robbins?"

"Please, call me Tad. First and foremost, Ms. Hastings, I want to apologize for the way you were treated when you were here last. We have very explicit rules, not to mention the relevant laws, against gender discrimination. The project manager, Tom Kirby, has been reprimanded."

I wasn't yet sure what was going on, but at least I was no longer shaking like a leaf. "Um, Ok."

"Next, I want to commend you on the work you have done for us in the past. It has always been timely, and of the highest quality."

"Uh, thanks."

"Let me be frank with you, Ms. Hastings. We really could use your help. Is there any chance we could convince you to take on another project for us? Looking back, your work on the last one was top-notch, and the fact that you helped us recognize the inherent problems with the project design as early as you did saved our company a lot of money. We have significantly reworked the design, and would really like the benefit of your expertise to review and implement it."

Sucking a deep breath, I replied, "That's very flattering, Tad. But I am recuperating from a rather serious injury at the moment. I am not sure if I can commit right now."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Ms. Hastings. I wish you a smooth and successful recovery. We have a little flexibility in the schedule, and, to be honest, we haven't found anyone else we are willing to trust this to. Do you have any feel when you might be up to meeting to discuss the technical aspects? And let me assure you, given what we owe you for your performance on your last contract, and also for the abuse you endured from our employee, the terms of this contract will be much more beneficial to you than the last one."

I was still not sure I wanted anything to do with these people again, but I was also somewhat desperate to get my career restarted. I willed my wildly beating heart to calm. "Not before Christmas. Maybe early next week? Are you working the week before New Year?"

"Next week would be just fine. Say Tuesday at 9:00 AM?"

"Yes, OK. Hopefully I will be up to it by then. Could I ask you to forward a preliminary contract proposal to my lawyer to check over first? I hope you don't mind, but I would like some assurance against a repeat of my last meeting with your people."

"Ok, I think we can do that. I will have our legal people draft an addendum with some safeguards for you and forward that and our current standard contract."

I gave him Ken's name and address, said goodbye, and collapsed into a chair. It took me several minutes to fully recover, but I felt a spark of hope deep in my heart.

I spent some more time relaxing in the sun that afternoon. This is really the ideal time of year to soak up the rays. Far too much of the year is inordinately hot in this desert climate. Now, the cool air offset the bite of the sun nicely.

That evening, I managed to have a simple meal ready for Amy when she returned from work. Even though it nearly exhausted me, it felt really good to do these homey things for my life mate again. It's the little things that you seem to miss most when you lose them.

Over dinner, I told Amy of my conversation with Tad. She picked up my nervousness and asked if I really felt up to going. I assured her that I would be fine, and how anxious I was to get back to "real" work.

As we cuddled in bed that night, Amy asked, "Sweetheart, have you thought any more about the future? Am I going to have James or Jamie sharing my bed?"

"Amy, I'm pretty sure I know what I want, which is to be your husband. But I'm still really confused about some of the things I've done, and the feelings I've had while doing them. Also, the way I feel about Paul has me confused. What about you?"

There was a noticeable pause before she responded. "I love you as James, and as Jamie. And I want what is best for you." She took another moment before continuing. "Please don't take this as pressure to make you choose something that wouldn't be right for you, but I really hope I have my hubby back soon. Oh, and do you think you would feel up to seeing Rick on Wednesday after your visit to Sol? That was the only time I could get you in soon, and he'll be out of the office after that till after New Year."

It was not my favorite thing to look forward to, but Amy wanted it, and I knew I needed help, so, "Yeah, I think I can do that."

We snuggled some more, and Amy stroked my curvy body, gently arousing me, but not pushing for anything more if I wasn't up to it. As her finger trailed over my recently unfettered groin, lingering to lightly enflame my manhood, she asked, "Are you feeling any response down there? Is there any sign of improvement?"

I felt the pressure of pleasure building up inside me. "Yes," I breathed, "I do feel something down there."

Amy slid down my body and replaced her questing finger with a probing tongue, and the pressure continued to build. I ran my fingers through her beautiful golden hair, and moaned quietly. Amy shifted to a better angle, sucked my swollen cock into her mouth, and moved one hand up to tweak one sensitive and rock-hard nipple. The pressure increased, until finally waves of pleasure washed over me. I watched between the mounds on my chest as milky cum sprayed across Amy's nose and cheeks. It had been ages since anything I produced had had that milky color. Progress? I was hopeful.

Tuesday, Dec. 22

Amy was gone again when I pulled myself from bed. I showered, closely examining the slowly fading but still angry wound. After dressing and eating a little, I left the house for the first time since returning home, strolling toward the park. I missed my walking, and was anxious to get back to it. Or was it that I was anxious to see Paul again. I'd missed him since the hospital, and it hurt that he hadn't been around even once. Amy studiously avoided the subject, sidestepping my queries, so I knew there had to be a problem there.

I didn't even make it to the walking path before I started to tire, so turned around and headed back home. That still sounded wonderful; home!

After resting a little, I went to my home office and started putting things in order, just in case I had the opportunity to go back to work soon. The rest of the day was a mix of that, plus some sun, some light flexibility exercises, and a snooze on the couch. Also, I put together a bit better meal for Amy when she got home.

I awoke thrashing in bed with the feel of Amy's arms around me, and her voice murmuring comfortingly. It took a while, but I finally forced the images of terror away and fell back asleep.

Wednesday, Dec. 23

Amy roused me, as she got ready for work. This was to be a big day for me, as I had morning appointments with both the endocrinologist and the psychologist, and I was still quite weak. But it would be good to get out of the house for a while.

I ate breakfast with Amy for a change, and then kissed her hungrily before she left. I showered, washing and conditioning my hair, then set about getting ready to meet the world again. I was determined to meet a standard that would help me reestablish my self-worth. I used the blow drier on my hair, brushing it till it shone, glistening ebony in the light of the vanity, and arranged it to minimize the contrasting roots that had grown out.

For the first time in weeks, I considered the package between my legs. Since Colorado, I hadn't had to worry about it, but now, as I prepared to go out again, I knew I would have to take care of it. I found the appliance I'd depended on before Dr. Wells' operation and sighed as I glued it in place. I was not going to take any chances on presenting an unfeminine appearance!

I donned some middle-of-the-road lingerie, not wanting the overtly sexy look I'd had the past months, nor the plainness of simple cotton undies. I spent a lot of time on my makeup, and was satisfied with the "less is more" look that still emphasized my unmistakably pretty face.

I found a knee-length beige suede skirt, and would have loved to wear a cropped top with it, but that exposed my very noticeable injury. What I finally found was a cami top with an asymmetrical hem that bared my left hip above the skirt, and dipped below the waistband on the right, doing an effective job of covering my imperfection.

I left with plenty of time, so I could move slowly, conserving my energy. I arrived at Dr. Myers office a little early, and tried to recharge for a few minutes in his comfortable waiting room. After I'd been shown back by a nurse, Sol entered with his usual bustle and bluster. He did, however, spend a bit more time with me today. My blood work was quite encouraging, and he asked about any noticeable signs of the returning testosterone. I blushed as I described the gradual increase in sensation and reaction from my genitals, and the returning color of my ejaculate. He confirmed that those were indeed encouraging signs, and noted I may also start seeing a gradual increase in the coarseness and density of my body hair. I mentioned that my beard had been removed by laser, and that I had seen no noticeable change, as yet, in my chest or leg hair. He concluded the appointment with the note that we were still in the wait and see mode, but signs were becoming encouraging.

Once I escaped, I drove carefully to Rick Simmons office, and rested in my car for the half-hour till my appointment. While I waited, my cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey. How are you holding up?" Amy asked.

"Well, I am pretty tired, and not looking forward to seeing Rick at all, but other than that, I'm fine. How is your day going?"

"Fine. Just wanted to check on you. Will you be OK?"

"Sure, if I survive this next appointment," I said with a nervous chuckle.

"Do you want me to come with you? I can be there in ten minutes. It might be a good idea for me to hear what Rick has to say, and I don't want you to feel you have to face him on your own."

"Amy, love. I would love to have you here, but you have obligations to your patients. I'll be just fine. Maybe next time you can come with me."

"OK, if you're sure. Good luck. Remember, I love you!"

We said our goodbyes, and I trudged into the building to face whatever may come. I must admit that Rick was less into psychobabble and answering questions with questions today. But that may have been because he spent the entire time, plus some extra, extracting the whole story of my flight and my take on the reasons for it, as well as my time away from Amy, including the attack, my nightmares, and my recovery so far. That was more than enough for one day, and it left me wrung out like a damp dishrag.

I found someplace to nibble a salad for lunch, then set about finding something a little special for my wife, as Christmas was only two days away, and I had been a little too occupied lately to shop. I chose an upscale jewelry store to begin my search, and almost right away found a ring that I loved, and thought she would as well. It was a delicate band with entwined gold and platinum hearts that completely circled the finger. Inside, I had it engraved with "To Amy, All my love forever. James". There were matching earrings with interlocking hearts of gold and platinum dangling from a delicate chain, and a necklace with a fine chain supporting a larger pair of matching hearts that would nestle within the valley of her fantastic breasts. I was doubly thankful, as I'd found something I loved, and had found it very quickly.

Once the engraving was done, at extra cost to get it immediately, I made my way home and fell into bed. Amy woke me when she got home, and we talked over the dinner she'd put together. I was still emotionally wrung out by the time I went to bed, and not surprisingly I had a visit from my friend the nightmare. I was so glad Amy was there to comfort me.

Thursday, Dec. 24

Amy let me sleep late, and I took full advantage. Except for being on call a few of the days, she was off now until after New Year. I couldn't sleep too late, though, as my bladder became insistent. I made my way to the bathroom, and for the first time in a long time, I tried standing to pee. It seemed really weird, vaguely disquieting, even though I'd done it my whole life except the past few weeks.

Over lunch we talked about many things, one of which was the state of my hair color. As I made my way back to the bedroom to dress, Amy called Life Style and made appointments for both of us for the day after Christmas. We lounged in the sun for a while, and I dozed a bit too. We took a short walk together, and I was pleased to find I made it noticeably farther than the last time I'd walked. When we got back, though, I was pretty tired, and lay on the bed for a while.

By the time Amy called me to dinner, I was feeling somewhat rested, and was glad to spend some time out of the bed. We cuddled and listened to music, talking quietly about the past, the future, my work and hers, friends, family, and anything else that came up. The feeling of belonging again was glorious, and occasionally I felt a tear or two drip down my cheek as I savored the moment.

At bedtime, I used the solvent to remove the gaff I'd worn since yesterday. We climbed into bed with wispy nighties and panties on, but Amy first cuddled, and then tentatively touched me, heating me up with caresses, gentle kisses, and loving whispers. It wasn't long before we were both au naturel, and I was returning Amy's attention in kind. As Amy stroked my manhood, I felt it twitch and swell. She whispered, "May I?" I nodded and she kissed her way down my body until she could slip my mild erection between her lips and perform all manner of devilish and magical enchantments upon it. I was in heaven. It had been almost three months since I'd last been this stiff. While it was not yet hard enough to do the job for real, I felt a surge of hope as Amy skillfully tipped me over the brink and I exploded.

When I recovered slightly, I attacked her voraciously, kissing her lips, probing with my tongue, encountering the salty-slick aftertaste of me in her mouth. I switched to her breasts and licked, sucked and nipped till she was arching her back, pushing herself into my mouth, silently begging for more. And I gave her more, switching sides from time to time, and eventually working my way down to her most private spot, administering to her some of the pleasure she'd brought me until she climaxed not once, but twice. After that we cuddled, kissed goodnight, murmured our love to each other, and drifted into sleep.

Friday, Dec. 25

As I woke Christmas morning, the feelings of home and being loved washed over me. I realized just how lucky I was to have all this back after so nearly throwing it away.

Amy stretched in all her naked glory as she returned from the bathroom, and slipped back under the covers to snuggle against my equally bare form. "Merry Christmas, Honey!" she breathed into my ear. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. She brushed it away and whispered, "What is it, sweetheart?"

I struggled to speak around the lump I my throat. "I just never thought I'd be this happy again!" I buried my face in her wonderful bosom and held on for dear life, slowly composing myself till I could pull back and give her a sunny smile. "Merry Christmas, Amy. I love you more than I can ever express." This time she hugged tight.

Amy went to the kitchen to fix breakfast as I used the facilities, then rummaged through my purse to find the gift I'd bought for her, so precisely wrapped by the store. Slipping into a silky sheer robe, I padded into the kitchen. I set the table and sat down to watch Amy work, quietly placing the gift by her plate. When she brought the food and saw the package, she scampered off to our bedroom and returned almost instantly to set a small box next to my plate. By unspoken agreement, we ate first, chatting away, stealing occasional glances at the waiting packages. When we finished, Amy let out a giggle and grabbed her present, ripping into the crisp white wrapping. I lifted her gift to me and unwrapped more slowly, keeping my eyes on her.

When she got it open, she sucked in a breath and looked up at me with glistening eyes. "Jamie, it's beautiful." She lifted the ring and started to slip it onto her finger, but I stopped her, and raised her hand that held the ring toward her eyes. After an instant of puzzlement, she got the idea and looked at the inside of the band. Her eyes misted and she launched herself at me, pulled up before she made contact, and carefully but firmly embraced me, raining kisses on my neck, face, and mouth. Pulling back, she said, "I love it!" And squeezed me again. I took the ring from her and slipped it onto her finger.

When she moved back to her chair, I was able to unwrap her gift to me. I opened it to find a beautiful heart-shaped locket on a fine gold chain. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "Is this trying to tell me something? Expecting Jamie to be around longer?"

She got a worried look on her face. "No! Not at all. Look inside." I opened it to find facing pictures. Peering at them closely, I saw that they were not traditional, with one of her and one of me. Amy was in both pictures, smiling lovingly at the other person portrayed. In one picture, it was James smiling back, and in the other, Jamie. "Um, I wanted something that told you I love you both, and whatever way it comes out, I will go on loving you."

I couldn't leave that pained look on her face, so I slid to my knees beside her, gathering her into my arms and told her it was gorgeous, and I loved it, and the sentiment it conveyed. I handed her the chain and locket and held up my hair to let her lace her gift to me around my neck.

We both looked very glamorous as we cleaned up from breakfast, decked out as we were in our new jewelry and the similar nearly transparent gowns that showed as much of our curvy bodies as they hid. We got Christmas dinner on to cook, and then shared a shower. The sight of the water cascading over my beautiful wife once again brought me to semi-erect attention. Amy noticed, smiled, and played just a bit before we got down to business and finished cleansing ourselves.

Amy dressed casually, but attractively. I was a little surprised at the choice of clothes for us to lounge around the house, but I shrugged and dressed similarly.

During the early afternoon, the phone rang, and Amy answered.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi mom. Merry Christmas!"

I perked up and listened to Amy's half of the conversation.

"We're fine. How are you and dad doing? How's the cruise?"

"Uh, huh."

"Uh, huh."

"Sounds wonderful! Ja… Um. James and I will have to do that one of these days."

"James? Oh, he's fine." She looked at me and mouthed "now".

"Um, no, he can't come to the phone right now."

"Ok, I'll wish him Merry Christmas for you. He wishes you the same."

"Hello, daddy! Having a good time?"

"Enjoying all the bikini babes?" Amy had a wicked grin on her lips, and I could imagine her dad blushing brightly.

"Oh, come on, daddy. I know you're not too old to look!"

The doorbell rang. I looked at Amy questioningly, and she motioned me toward the door.

"Uh, huh."

"Uh, huh."

"Uh, huh. I love you, daddy. Enjoy your trip. Looking forward to seeing you when you get back. Bye."

I pulled open the door and found Erin and Jackie standing there. "Merry Christmas! This is a wonderful surprise!"

I heard Amy behind me, "I asked them over for dinner. Aren't you going to invite them in?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, come on in!" I'd been standing there with a goofy grin on my face, but backed away so they could step inside. "Welcome!" I gave them both a peck on the cheek, and added a warm hug for Erin that I was reluctant to end.

We had a delicious dinner made even better by the presence of friends.

Saturday, Dec. 26

As nice as it had been to see Erin again, and to have company for Christmas, it was also very tiring, and I awoke late to Amy's gentle pestering. She got me moving, and we made it to Parkridge Mall, and the salon with a few minutes to spare. It felt good to be pampered again, and Ellie did her usual marvelous job on my hair. When she was done, you'd never know my hair wasn't naturally ebony, without taking a look at the patch further south. Amy's darker brown roots had grown out considerably, in the two months since it was originally turned golden. With all the stress I'd brought into her life, she hadn't been up to visiting a salon to take care of it. By the time we left, it was all back to the golden hue we'd shared for the costume party.

The following days were quiet, with me resting a lot, but also trying to get gentle exercise so I wouldn't tire so quickly. I spent much of Monday poring over my notes from my last contract, hoping it would be good preparation for the ordeal the next day. I also walked again, this time making it as far as the bench where Paul and I had often met for walking. Of course, he wasn't there. I hadn't expected him to be, but I felt a pang nonetheless. I sat on the bench for a while to regain my breath before slowly walking home.

Tuesday, Dec. 29

After a very restless night, I was up before the alarm. My customary nightmare woke me, but I managed not to scream this time, so Amy was able to sleep through. When Amy got up, I was in the closet pulling one outfit after another off the rod, before putting them back to consider another. Amy calmly hugged me, holding on till I quit fidgeting, and then pulled an attractive navy skirt suit and a white silk blouse out to lay on the bed for me. Just like that, the first crisis of the day was resolved, and I started getting my nerves under control.

I didn't eat much, and spent way too much time showering, fixing my hair, and doing makeup. I was determined to look professional and attractive to lay the groundwork for restarting my career.

I almost chickened out as I sat in my car in the parking lot in front of InfoSource. Every gruesome detail of my last visit to this building flashed through my mind, and when I finally did emerge, I felt like I was slogging through setting concrete to reach the door. Again I clipped my contractors badge on, and did my best to appear confident as I strode past the receptionist with a brief nod.

A tall, ruggedly attractive man with distinguished graying hair met me outside the same conference room that was the setting for that last disastrous meeting.

"Ms. Hastings? I'm Tad Robbins. I'm glad you came today." He shook my hand, and then opened the door for me, ushering me in. When I saw who was already there I might have bolted right back out, but Tad had my escape route blocked. "Ms. Hastings, I'm sure you remember Tom Kirby, and of course, Jeff, the lead engineer on the project. Tom won't be staying for the meeting, but he has something to say to you before he leaves. Tom?"

He was looking distinctly uncomfortable as he rose from his chair at the conference table. "Ms. Hastings. I, um, I'm not quite sure how to apologize to you for what I did last time. It was unforgivable, but I want to express my deep regrets. I do not fully understand what you have been through, but I have learned something of it, and I must say I admire the courage it takes for you to come back here today. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work that needs attending to." With that, he moved carefully past me and out the door.

I hadn't gotten a single word out through my parched throat, and shook my head dazedly after the door closed behind Tom.

"Please, have a seat, Ms. Hastings and lets get down to business."

I collected myself and took the seat he'd pulled out for me, sipping a glass of water set at my place. "Thank-you. And please call me Jamie."

"Jamie it is, then," Tad said as he seated himself. "I hope that wasn't too stressful for you Jamie. Tom needed closure. He had a lot of growing to do after his reprehensible conduct the last time you were here. I do believe he has learned since then, and has become a better employee in the process."

"What do you mean?"

"When we finally learned the details of his last meeting with you, he was given three choices: find another company to work for, with a less than glowing recommendation from us; take a significant cut in salary and job title; or study gender identity disorder, make a presentation to the staff on the subject, and if he did that adequately, be given a parallel transfer to another management position. He chose the latter, gave a credible talk on the subject, and indications are that he has become a better manager for the tolerance and empathy he has learned."

"Wow. I don't know what to say. All of that because of me?"

Tad smiled. "Yes. See how you are helping us out besides just being a technical wizard?" I blushed brightly. "Enough of that. Let's get this thing rolling."

We spent the next few hours poring over the technical details of the dramatically revised project. I could see where the architectural changes they had made would address some of the issues I'd raised, but the project was far too large to take in the full ramifications in such a short time. We wrapped up just before noon, and Tad insisted on taking me to lunch to discuss the non-technical aspects. It was a nice lunch at a quiet, stately, slightly posh restaurant. He showed me a copy of the contract he'd forwarded to my lawyer, and had heard back that Ken should have it reviewed and approved within a couple days.

As we were going our separate directions after lunch, Tad spoke up, "If you don't mind my saying, Jamie, you make a very attractive woman. On the phone you said you were recovering from something serious? Are you well now?"

I smiled ruefully. "While not completely recovered, I am getting better every day, thanks."

"Well, I hope you make a full recovery, and that you take the contract with us. It has been a pleasure meeting you, and I'm sure it will be a pleasure to work with you over the course of this project."

"Thank you. It was good meeting you too, and I'll let you know soon about the contract."

I was exhausted by the time I made it into my car, and just slumped behind the wheel for a few minutes, grateful that I'd been able to make it through the meeting as well as I did.

Wednesday, Dec. 30

Wednesday afternoon found Rick Simmons at our door. Somehow, Amy had talked him into a house call. Last week's appointment was an emotion-wrought recounting of my roller coaster ride of the prior two months. Today, he set out to help me make sense of what had happened, and maybe get a handle on the nightmares. Amy sat in on the session, and Rick let her know where he thought I stood, and what she could be doing to help. I told him that my hormone situation was getting better, and hinted at beginning the journey to restore my male looks. He was firm in his position that I wait till I understood myself better, and used his probing questions to try to let me find that knowledge. Some of the answers I had to give were quite upsetting to me, and I was feeling a little depressed by the time he left, and more than just a bit desperate to end this sojourn as a woman. Amy and I talked that night about my appointment. She understood my desire to speed my return trip, and knew I might ignore Rick's advice and act precipitously. She lovingly made her case for heeding Rick, and wormed a promise out of me that I wouldn't do anything rash.

Thursday, Dec. 31

Ken called the next day, to tell me that he and InfoSource had ironed out a few wrinkles, and that he felt the contract now did a much better job of protecting me in my somewhat delicate position. I made it into his office that afternoon, New Years Eve, reviewed the updates with him, and signed it in triplicate so one copy could be sent off to InfoSource while he and I each retained one.

Amy and I celebrated New Years quietly, together in our own home, with a nice bottle of champagne and some thrilling moments in bed together. I wasn't yet up to full intercourse, but Amy and I both sensed continued improvement, and rejoiced.

The following week included appointments with both the endocrinologist and the psychologist, and represented high and low points for me. I was thrilled that my hormones were trending toward the balance they needed, but came out of the other appointment confused and frustrated. I just was not getting a handle on what I really was. I knew that I wanted to be Amy's husband, yet the more Rick probed, the less sure I was that I wanted to give up this body.

The real high point of the week was the arrival of the signed contract from InfoSource, and Amy and I celebrated my reentry into my chosen career. It would be a week or more before I had what I needed to start really working, but it felt good to be gainfully employed again.

*****************

I stood on the back patio watching our many friends chat and sip drinks. As my gaze roamed from face to familiar face, I wondered where the last five years had gone. That Halloween seemed so long ago, and yet, in some ways it seemed only yesterday.

I smiled as my very favorite face approached me. "Happy Anniversary, Amy!" I said as I pulled her into a tender hug.

"Thanks honey. It's a great party, isn't it?" I had my arm around her as we looked out at the people here for this celebration in the backyard of our dream home.

"Mommy! Mommy!" We both smiled as our three year old daughter, Alexa, arrived at full speed.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Amy asked as I scooped Alexa up in my arms.

She giggled as I hugged her and tickled her at the same time. "Jimmy's playing with his food again!" She pointed at messy-faced little James over at the picnic table.

We both laughed as Amy swooped in on him, pulling him into her arms and nuzzling his neck. "What is Mommy going to do with you, you little scamp?" He howled with laughter as Amy cleaned him up and teased him at the same time.

I squeezed a few more giggles out of our little girl as my thoughts wandered back in time.

****************

It was about four months after my attack. I was mostly recovered, physically, from the stabbing. The news from Dr. Myers had continued to improve each visit, and in the three months since I'd had my genitals released from their temporary captivity, I'd slowly regained my male function, until I'd finally reached the point that I could really make love to Amy again, even if it was breast-to-breast.

The appointments with Rick Simmons were always emotionally draining. I was still frustrated at times by his double-talk, but I stuck it out, knowing I needed help to get through my confusion, and knowing he was among the best available. He made me question everything, and try to fathom the right course for my future. He was adamant that I not have the cosmetic surgery needed to look like a man again until we were satisfied that I really knew whether manhood or womanhood was what I needed. I just knew that I wanted to be Amy's husband, and the father of her children. But he would not waver on the surgery, and Amy made me promise to heed that advice.

So after I had regained the ability to penetrate Amy, we talked over the future, and decided it was time to start our family. I knew I wanted to be a husband again, so I was anxious to get on with it. Amy figured if I didn't make it back, she still wanted my children. Amy stopped taking the pill, and determined when she would be most fertile. The first month, at the appointed time, we had some wonderfully romantic evenings, and did our best to make a baby. But all we had to show for it were memories of delectable nights in bed together.

The next month, when Amy was sure it was the right time, she seduced me wearing some very sheer, very sexy lingerie one evening, and we shared a fantastic night of love. Though we made love every night for a week to try to ensure success, we both are convinced that that was the night our little baby was conceived.

As soon as we knew Amy was pregnant, we both decided the perfect name for a girl child was Alexa, as a tribute to my time in the guise of a woman. We both knew I would be back to being James before much longer. Choosing a name for a boy was much harder.

That was a wonderful time, and with very few exceptions, Amy and I were happy again. The exceptions came in two forms: my appointments with Rick, where he made me question everything, often leaving me depressed for hours or days afterward, and Amy's growing discomfort with making love to me in my feminine form, which only increased my frustration with Rick's stalling.

As was normal for us in all of our marriage, except the time that I ran away, we talked it out. We concluded that Amy was not truly bisexual, and it was only the novelty of the situation, and the knowledge that it was her husband that made our lovemaking enjoyable for her. We were both anxious to put that phase of our lives behind us.

It was a wonderful experience being with Amy as Alexa was born, other than having to watch my soul mate suffer the exhaustion and pain of the delivery. As we held our newborn little girl, all the pain was washed away in the love we felt for this new life we had created.

It is one of my greatest regrets that I was unable to be there for little Jimmy's birth.

********************

Alexa's squirming in my arms brought me back to the present, and I let her down to scamper off, yelling, "Look! Aunt Erin's here!"

I looked off in the direction Alexa was pointing while she ran, and saw the cute, tiny dynamo coming out of the house, cuddling a little bundle in her arms. Before I could go greet my her, another of my friends stepped up and claimed my attention.

"Hi, buddy!"

"Hey, Dan! Glad you came. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing just great. And I'm glad you invited me. It's been a while."

Yes, it had been quite a while. It was really kind of funny how Dan had become a good friend. Funny and sad at the same time.

********************

As our first child grew within Amy, I continued my visits with Dr. Simmons. I felt like I was OK, ready to end the weekly sessions, and get on with becoming James again. My nightmares had finally abated, and I was certain which course I should follow. But Rick didn't waver, and Amy, afraid of a possible repeat of my disappearance, agreed with him. So, to keep her happy, I continued.

Rick felt I still had gender issues I at least had to understand and accept before I made a final decision to be male. He insisted that I should live for a time as a woman. Well, OK. I had been for almost a year by then, inhabiting this beautiful body that circumstance and Sandy had given me. But no, it wasn't enough to just inhabit. I may have had a beautiful body, but I wasn't experiencing a female life. I was taking the "safe" way out, living with my wife and avoiding the social interactions he felt I needed before I could fully understand my future.

So, with Amy's loving support, I began to get out more into social settings. We again went out as two women to places where there were people to interact with, including dance clubs as we had back when all this started. I mostly talked with Amy, and danced with her, as two girls are wont to do. But she insisted I dance with others too, as Rick had advised.

It was one those evenings that we met Dan. He asked me to dance, and Amy urged me on. He spent a lot of time with us that night, dancing with me, occasionally getting Amy onto the dance floor, and talking with both of us. He was very nice, and the conversation came easily. He and I shared many interests, giving us things to talk about. When he asked for my number so he could call me, a glance at Amy told me to go ahead, so I gave it to him.

A few days later he called, and asked me out. Of course, he didn't know about my gender or my relationship with Amy. We had a fun evening, and shared a few gentle kisses, and it was nice, but no more than that. We had several more dates over the next several weeks, but at my insistence, we never got too intimate. Dan was a good guy. He didn't press the issue, but kept coming back for more. For my part, I enjoyed the time, but still had found nothing to convince me that being Amy's husband was not my future.

Dan said he had a good friend, and would like to have Amy accompany us on a double date with his friend Phil. Amy was reluctant, but my guilt over "cheating" on her by dating eventually convinced her to go along. It was enjoyable, though Amy was even less receptive to Phil's advances than I was to Dan's. But Phil was as nice as his friend, and didn't push the issue. One double date led to another, and then a few more. It was all good, mostly innocent fun. I also had several single dates with Dan, but Amy never went out with Phil unless we doubled.

Over time, Amy took her lead from me, and would let Phil do with her about what I was letting Dan do with me, so she shared a few kisses, and there was some cuddling and light petting. After a time, Amy called it quits, citing her advancing pregnancy, and turned down any suggested outings. I had realized that there just was not a serious romantic interest for me with Dan, but my connection with Amy made me aware that she was not quite as indifferent to Phil.

At any rate, Dan's attempt at romancing me evolved into friendship, with mutual agreement that we were not made for each other, in a romantic sense. We did occasionally do things together; but it was more like two buddies than as a couple, even including Phil at times. Often, when we three did something, Phil would ask about Amy, and I sensed he hoped that she would come around some day. Amy and I continued to talk, as was our custom, so she was fully aware that there was no romance between Dan and I, while I was aware she had quit seeing Phil because there was some interest, and she wanted to remain faithful to our marriage.

Not long after that, Dan met that someone special, and we had seen little of each other since, though we did keep each other up-to-date with the major changes in our lives. And our friendship had managed to survive.

********************

I shook myself free of my reverie, only to realize Dan had wandered on to talk to someone else while I was immersed in the past. I noticed Sandy greeting Amy, who gave her a slightly impersonal hug before moving on to another guest, leaving Sandy watching sadly after her.

I moved quietly beside her and said, "Hi Sandy. Glad you made it."

She smiled ruefully. "Hello, friend. I see she still hasn't forgiven me."

When my adventure started, Sandy and Amy had been best friends, while Sandy had despised me because I was a man. My trial by femininity had been intended to reduce the friction between her and me. The irony was that now, with the challenge long over, Sandy and I were pretty good friends, while Amy wanted nothing to do with her.

"Give her time, Sandy. It's not so much that she blames you for all we went through, as seeing you makes her feel guilty all over again. She's smart. She'll work it out one of these days, and you two will be thick as thieves again."

"I hope so. This sure isn't the outcome I had in mind when I came up with that stupid idea."

I decided to change the subject. "So, how's California? Is it as good as everyone says?" Sandy had moved her practice to L.A. after things got strained between her and Amy.

"Some good, some bad, just like everywhere. Business is great though." I knew that her reputation as a plastic surgeon had grown since the move, and she had all the patients she could handle.

"And what's this I hear about a man? Anything serious?"

She blushed. "Maybe. He just might be THE ONE, but I'm taking it pretty slow. You taught me that men aren't all bad, but I have a lot of history to get past, you know?"

Sandy wandered off to talk to another friend she hadn't seen for a while, so I refocused on Erin and smiled brightly as I made my way over to her. I kissed her on the cheek and looked down at the cute little baby she held. "Hi, Erin! How's the little one?" I asked as I gave Erin a friendly hug.

"Hey yourself!" She had a big smile on her face, and returned my hug. "She's great! I can't believe it's already been two months since the adoption became final. She's such a good baby, healthy, happy, almost never cries. I just love being a mother."

You could tell that just by looking at her. She seemed to glow, even in the light cast by the bright sun of the desert autumn. Of course, she'd been glowing since she'd taken the final step to being whole more than three years ago. She'd finally given in to my insistence that I wanted to help her financially to take that last step to womanhood. And that I wanted to be there with her as she took it. So I'd arranged my work to take a couple weeks away, and traveled with her to Chicago, Illinois for her appointment with her destiny and one of the top surgeons in the field. In spite of the pain and inconvenience she suffered for weeks afterward, the glow had been ignited, and has been a given since then, only increasing in intensity at her marriage last year, and now again with the adoption of their first child.

Thinking of her wedding, I asked, "Where's the proud papa?"

Erin grinned that irrepressible grin and said, "Oh, he sent me on ahead. He's trying to get all the baby paraphernalia out of the car."

About that time, I heard a clatter from inside the house, and saw Paul dumping a pile of baby things on the kitchen table before joining us, hugging Erin from behind and kissing her on the cheek while gazing adoringly at the child his wife held.

"Hey Paul!" I saw the look in his eyes as he gazed down at his little one.

"Howdy." He couldn't be distracted from what was important in his life right now, but he did give me a friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

"She's a little cutie, isn't she?"

"Sure is!" he said as he stroked the baby's cheek.

"I meant Erin, not the baby!"

We all had a good laugh, but Paul came back, "Yeah, that too."

As Paul and Erin moved on to greet others, I again drifted into the past.

********************

Paul hadn't been comfortable with what I'd become after I abandoned Amy. My wild ways, dancing as a stripper, sexual encounters with several men, being paid for sex, and living with and being intimate with Erin was just not behavior he could accept. Go figure! I did not see him for a long time after those few times in the hospital. He had fallen in love with an idealized Jamie, and found that I had feet of clay. It was more than a year later before I saw him again.

By that time, I'd gotten my consulting business back on its feet, and gone through the non-romance with Dan, as well as a few other dates encouraged by Rick Simmons and Amy. I'd gotten back into the habit of walking not long after returning home to Amy, and always felt a tug at my heart as I walked by the bench where I'd first seen Paul, and where we'd met frequently after that to walk together. In all the time I'd been back home, he had never shown up at the bench.

But one day, that changed. That day, as I approached the spot, there he was, doing his warm-up stretches, and I stopped some distance back to drink in the sight of him. I couldn't understand my quickened pulse, or the feeling of light-heartedness that came over me. I wasn't sure if I should run away, just walk quietly past, or say hi to him. But there was only one choice I could make. So I approached quietly, and meekly said, "Hi, Paul."

He turned to look at me, and I feared seeing a look of revulsion on his face. But after a few moments of terrifying suspense, he smiled his crooked little smile that had so often melted my heart and quietly said, "It's good to see you again, Jamie. How have you been?"

We walked together, and though the conversation was a bit rocky at first, punctuated by long stretches of silence, by the time we finished our two circuits, we'd mostly caught up with each others lives for the past year, and much of the awkwardness between us had faded.

I walked almost every day, and saw Paul several times that week. When my next appointment with Rick Simmons rolled around, he detected a difference in me, one that I myself either didn't recognize, or refused to acknowledge. Over a couple weeks, he dug with his annoying questions, circling the issue, attacking from different angles until he pried the gem of truth from me, and made me focus on why I seemed to feel a bit different lately.

That had been the beginning of the end for James, though it took some time before I realized it. Months passed, and I am quite sure that Amy picked up on it before I did. When I finally broke down in her arms and cried, admitting that I couldn't go back to being James, she was not surprised, though she was still saddened, crying along with me for the loss she knew was coming.

Within another month, Dr. Myers had me back on hormone therapy, and all my hard-fought inches back toward masculinity faded away in what seemed like no time. I did not discuss my decision with anyone but Amy and my doctors. Paul and I saw each other often as we walked, and occasionally met for lunch when I had reason to be downtown, but neither of us tried to advance a relationship past our renewed friendship.

The day I told Paul I would be out of town for a few weeks, I stepped close to him, pulling his head down into a lingering kiss. Paul did not respond at first, but soon all the hunger he'd suppressed for so long came alive in that exchange.

It was two years, almost to the day, after I'd been stabbed and left for dead that James did die under the knife of the same well-known surgeon that had completed my friend Erin several months prior. Amy was at my side, trying to be strong as she watched her dreams sliced away. As I recovered, I was incredibly sad for what I'd lost with Amy, yet at the same time I felt a serenity, a completeness, as if something I'd been missing my whole life had been found.

The surgery took a lot out of me, and it took time to recover. When I did get back to walking, I tired quickly, and Paul was concerned with my health. I told him I was fine, just worn out, and made no reference to my radical change. Now, however, each time we walked, I made sure I got at least one kiss from Paul, be it just a peck on the cheek, or a long intense one, with gradually increasing passion on both our parts.

A few months after the surgery, I was back up to full strength, and a confused Paul was sinking again into love with me, and afraid to question my relationship with Amy. On occasion, I'd have Paul back to our house for coffee after the walk. One glorious day, I made my move. I sat close to Paul as we talked and sipped coffee. When the beverage was gone, I kissed him, putting as much passion into that act as I was able. I circled my arms around his neck, holding him tight, and mashing my breasts against his hard chest. Then, without a word, I stood, took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom.

As I slowly undressed down to my panties, I could feel Paul's eyes on me. I had never been this naked in his sight before. Then I started on his clothing, until he was even more naked than I. Each time he started to speak, I shushed him, or silenced him with ever more passionate kisses. Pushing him down on the bed, I straddled him, kissing his lips, then scattering kisses across his neck, his firm chest and rippled stomach, working my way down to his maleness. By the time I reached that point, I was sure of Paul's interest by the rigidity of his member. After licking and sucking him to even greater stiffness, I worked my way back up his body to claim his lips once again. Slipping my panties aside, I moved his sword into position below my untried sheath, and groaned out loud as I descended, sliding his weapon home.

Paul's eyes were wide with amazement as he realized just what had happened, but I gave him no chance to ponder or comment, as I sealed his mouth with a deep kiss and set a gradually increasing rhythm that effectively halted all higher brain function inside his ruggedly handsome head. My rational thought faded within moments as well, and what remained were two almost civilized animals performing the mating dance that is as old as the species. My second orgasm came at almost the same instant as Paul reached climax, and when it faded I collapsed on top of this delicious man.

That was the only time we made love. We continued to meet to walk, and occasionally met for lunch, but Paul always managed to avoid my attempts to kiss him, or to be intimate. We still talked, and gradually he helped me see that what he felt for me was not romantic love. And slowly I came to accept it and value his friendship.

********************

A tear dripping down my cheek brought me back to the present. I glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed as I surreptitiously brushed it away. Across the yard I recognized a man and wondered how he got here. I didn't invite him. Maybe he came with one of the girls that had been invited. It was my old friend Rob, the man that had made a whore out of me. But that thought led to another, which in turn forced a giggle between my lips.

********************

It was a while after my one tryst with Paul, and I was lonely. Amy was still loving, in a platonic way, but was increasingly spending more time with other people. I dated on occasion, and even shared a few nights with guys or girls, but it wasn't enough. In looking for ways to enjoy life again, I thought back to my days as a stripper, and the thrill I'd felt teasing the guys in the audience, and feeling the tingle of sexual excitement running through my body. The Lariat Club was just the same when I arrived one evening. I'd dressed up nice and sexy, and gone back to see how it felt. I was a little past the prime for a stripper, but my body was tight and had all the right curves. The doctors had done an excellent job with my stab wound, and it was barely noticeable, even close up. I thought about seeing if Bill still ran the place, and might need another dancer part time.

The new manager didn't know me, and none of the dancers were still there from my stint at the club. I didn't get much encouragement when I asked about dancing again. Ah, well. Such is life.

I found a table and ordered a glass of wine to sip as I enjoyed the show. My body and mind may be nearly female now, but I still got turned on by a good-looking woman. As I watched, a man approached, and asked to join me. Son of a gun if it wasn't Rob, the one guy I'd gone home from the club with. I doubt he'd have recognized me a week after our "date", so I wasn't surprised he didn't seem to know me now.

"Sure, have a seat. Let me buy you a drink!" I signaled a waitress. "I'll have another white wine, please, and a glass of Jameson's for my friend here."

Rob showed his surprise. "How'd you know that Jameson's is my drink? Do I know you?"

I didn't answer directly. "You just look like the kind of guy that goes for the best." We watched the dancers, talked a little, and I bought him several more drinks. Finally, on toward closing, I whispered in his ear and when he nodded, led him out of the club. He tried to take me to his new Jag, but I shook my head. "Hold up there, tiger. You've had a bit to drink tonight. Let me be your designated driver." I led him past his car to my Lexus. Not quite in a class with his Jag, but it suited me.

I took him home, and had my way with him, doing a better job than the last time since I had the right plumbing now. After the first few orgasms, we slept for a while before I mounted him and rode him hard sometime in the night. He returned the favor as the sun rose, and then we showered together before dressing. I drove him back to his car, then insisted on opening the door for him, and used his keys to open up his Jag. He found this all very amusing from a beautiful girl, and chuckled wryly. Once he'd slid behind the wheel, I leaned to give him a deep kiss, and stuffed five crisp hundred-dollar bills into his shirt pocket before saying, "Thanks for the great night, babe," as I shut his door and then walked back to my car. I grinned all the way home. Of course, he probably didn't realize I'd just returned the favor, but even if he did, he'd probably feel pride rather than the shame I'd felt.

********************

Coming out of my reverie with a bright smile on my painted lips, I tracked down Amy again. She'd finished cleaning little James, and was speaking with Erin and Paul. Behind her stood a tall ruggedly handsome man with his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against him as he lightly rested his chin in the still golden hair at the back of her head.

"Hey, Phil, Happy Anniversary!" I chirped with a cheerfulness I didn't feel as I came up beside the couple.

"Thanks, Jamie. Great party! Thanks for doing this for us."

"My pleasure." I felt my control slipping, and knew I had to get away before my smile dissolved in tears. "Excuse me. I have to get some more food from the kitchen." With deliberate speed, I made my way to the house, struggling to maintain my composure. Slipping into the deserted house, I all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind me and collapsing on the commode as the tears came.

There was no denying I felt more complete as a woman, but despite that, I wanted what that man had! I wanted Amy's love. To be fair, I still had her love, and the deep bond we'd shared almost from the day we'd met. But I wanted the passionate physical love we'd had before that fateful Halloween challenge. I wanted it all. And the realization that I could never have that again was a bitter pill to swallow.

********************

It was very shortly after I'd resumed hormone therapy. The hormones seemed to rob me of my erections more quickly the second time around. Amy knew this was forever, that she would never have heterosexual sex with me again, and that made all the difference in our love life. The first time, we'd believed it was temporary, and with the novelty of my changed appearance, and the sure knowledge that it was her male husband inside the sexy female body, Amy had taken to pseudo-lesbian love with a passion. Much later, she came to realize that making love to a woman's body was not right for her, but she kept it up, willingly, because it was still her husband, and he was in the process of becoming her man again. But the second time, the novelty was gone, it was no longer temporary, and I would soon no longer be any kind of a husband. Nearly as soon as I lost the ability to penetrate her, all sexual relations ended between us, though we did still cuddle, kiss, touch, and love. But things had changed. Permanently.

Sometime before my surgery, Amy started seeing men again; sometimes double dating with me, sometimes alone. A couple months later, she ran into Phil again, and they went out.

It was about this time that Amy and I left town for a week. I was still somewhat male when we left, but when we returned, I was about as female as a skilled surgeon could make me. We had discussed it in the past, but on those occasions neither of us wanted to face the fact that our marriage was ending. The surgery was the final nail in the coffin, and we quietly completed our legal divorce soon after we returned, even though we continued to live together and sleep in the same bed. I didn't begrudge Amy the chance to find happiness again. Despite her assertion so long ago that she would still love me just the same if I became Jamie completely, I'd held no illusions about this. I knew enough about her to realize there was no lesbian or even bi tendency in her. Even though she had a soul-deep love for me, that was not enough to let us remain lovers in my current state.

A few weeks later, she'd spent the night with Phil, and I was forced to accept that she'd found another source of the physical love I could no longer supply. She started spending a lot of time with Phil, and several months after I became a woman, she and Phil married in a quiet civil ceremony. I had not been present at the ceremony. Not that I was specifically excluded. No one was there except a JP and a couple of nameless witnesses.

Amy and Phil had a very small reception after their wedding. Just a few friends. And me. I had persuaded my two best friends, apart from Amy, to come along for moral support. It was the first time Paul and Erin had seen each other since I'd been in the hospital. But it was not the last. Paul knew that Erin had been born male, but by then, she was as completely female as modern medicine could make her, and more attractive physically and by way of personality than most natural women. They got to talking, at least during the times I wasn't clinging to them, trying to maintain my composure.

That was two years ago today. I had thought that by now I could handle this, and so had convinced them to let me throw an anniversary celebration for them.

Amy moved out of our dream home when she'd remarried, and into a nearby house that she and Phil had found. There was no wrangling over custody of Alexa. Amy and I knew and loved each other well enough that we shared easily. With me working at home most of the time, I took care of Alexa during the day, with the help of a nanny. With my flexible schedule, I was able to change her diapers, play with her, and feed her most any time I wanted, just adjusting my work around it. I had the joy of finding her first tooth, watching her take her first step, and hearing her first word. The nanny looked after her during times I spent at my computer, or when I needed to leave the house for work or shopping.

Much of the time that Amy was off work, Alexa spent with Phil and her. Phil is a good man. He is able to fill the father role for Alexa as I no longer can, and I am grateful for that, even though it hurts. It especially hurts now that Phil and Amy had little James, and Alexa has started calling Phil daddy, while I have become Aunt Jamie. It is probably for the best, since it will make her life easier at school and with her friends. Besides, Amy and I are very much like sisters now, with all the love and sharing that a good sibling relationship implies, so aunt seems like the right title.

Paul and Erin began dating soon after the reception, and got on famously. Their wedding six months later was at least a little easier for me than Amy's. I was so happy for both of them, as I love them both dearly. But my heart felt a few twinges as it sank in that I'd irrevocably lost any chance with Paul too. Then again, it is easier to free what you never really had than that which you thought was yours forever.

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After drying my tears and repairing my makeup, I made my way to the kitchen, to fulfill the excuse I'd used to escape. My step faltered as I saw Amy waiting for me, leaning on the kitchen counter. She can see right through me, and I noted her concerned expression as she realized I had been crying.

She hugged me tightly, and asked, "Oh, sweetheart. Are you alright?" She hugged me fiercely, and I felt the love she still held for me ease the pain just a little.

I noticed she was wearing the ring I gave her for that last Christmas we shared. I knew it signified the love we still share, and that eased my pain a little. With difficulty, I manage to answer, "Yeah, fine." But we both knew it was a lie. She held me for a long time.

Finally, I manage to whisper, "Amy, are you happy? Do you love him?"

She kissed my cheek, and then held me away, looking deep into my eyes. "Yes, for the most part I am happy. And yes, I love him. But it's not like the deep intense love that I had for James. That was one of a kind." She continued to look into my eyes. "How about you? Do you think you can be happy again some day?"

"I hope so. I don't know. Maybe. There'll never be another you. And Paul was special. And he came along at just the right time to let me love him. I don't know if I can love another man. Or another woman, for that matter. But I have hope. And I will always have you." I tried to put on a brave smile. "I just wish I hadn't had to give up so very much to have this feeling of rightness. I had to give up my heart to become whole, but how can I be whole without a heart?"

  

  

  

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