A Sissy's Tale

Bruce read over the text a full twenty times. How could he respond? How should he respond? He typed in the following: Micaela, this revelation is quite a shock to say the least. You live your life as a woman, therefore, for all intents and purposes, you are a woman, and I accept you as a woman. I still want to be with you, Micaela. I love you as well.

Five minutes later there was a knock at Bruce's door. It was Micaela, dressed in a blue teddy. She grabbed his hand and led him to the bedroom. He broke all speed records in undressing himself while she simply lay upon the bed. He was soon beside her. "Are we going to make love tonight?" She smiled and nodded her head.

Micaela took her phone and texted First, this is my clitty. She pointed at her seven-inch erect cock. Second, this is my pussy. She smacked her ass. Got it?

"May I suck your clitty?" She smiled, lay her head back against a pillow, and closed her eyes. Bruce had never sucked a cock before, so all he knew is what was done to him. Micaela had been the best he ever had, so he tried to emulate her actions. He knew he wasn't as proficient as she, but that small sigh when he first began and that high-pitched squeal when she came fifteen minutes later did wonders for his ego. From there, he moved to her ass. Clit and pussy. I have to remember to call it a clit and pussy. He ate it as scrumptiously as he had ever eaten one. Eventually, she pulled him up and began to suck his cock. Just for a few minutes, though, then she lined his dick up with her ass.

Bruce eased himself in until he hit rock bottom. "Oh, baby. Your pussy feels so good." She smiled, even more so when he began making love to her. He lasted all of ten minutes, and she allowed him to cum inside her. Afterwards, they kissed like the young lovers they were. "I love you," he told her. She mouthed the same. He asked her to stay the night. She nodded yes.

The following morning, Saturday, Bruce awoke around nine. He was off at the radio station weekends unless there was a special event going on, and this week there wasn't one. There was a special event in his bed last night, but much like the radio station, it wasn't there today. He heard knocking around in the hallway, so he went to see if it might be Micaela. He opened his door to find, "Michael?"

"Oh, hey," Michael said as he picked up a bag of trash from the floor. "Sorry. I overslept. Got to get the store open. Talk to you later."

"Is Micaela home?" Bruce called out.

"Left earlier," Michael called back, then he was gone.

Bruce went back in his apartment and texted Micaela. She immediately responded, With friends. Talk 2 U later.

She had never mentioned friends to him before. He wondered who they were. At twelve-thirty he texted her again. Meet 4 lunch, or still busy?

Dinner might be better, she replied.

Bruce was beginning to feel self-conscious about last night. All indications were that Micaela enjoyed their lovemaking; yet, if that were so, then why the cold shoulder today? He went to the book store to find Michael. "Hey, bud. Up for some pizza?"

"Jilly?" Michael called out. A short young woman with long black hair appeared. "I'm going out to lunch. This is Bruce. Bruce, this is Jilly."

Bruce shook her hand. Her smile was forced. "What's her deal?" he asked when they left.

"Oh, she's my new assistant manager. College girl. She loves books, though."

As they ate, Bruce said, "Has Micaela said anything to you about last night?"

"I haven't spoken to her since before I left out this morning, Bruce, and she didn't say anything then. Why do you ask?"

"She told me her secret last night."

Michael raised a curious eyebrow. "How did that go?"

"I accepted her, and then we made love. It was wonderful. Now, though ... I feel like she's giving me the cold shoulder."

"No, what you are experiencing is neglect because you thought her life would come to an end and you and she would be spending every waking minute together," Michael told him. "She has friends, Bruce. She has this group of mutes she hangs out with. She's living her life while trying to figure out a way to incorporate you into it."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Bruce conceded, and from there the conversation turned to other, less important things.

At ten p.m. that night a knock came to Bruce's door. He opened it to find, "Micaela!" He swept her into his arms and kissed her. When he let her go, she texted, Walk me home? They walked the twenty feet to her door. She unlocked it, then pulled Bruce in by his shirt. They tread carefully across the floor, then she stopped and pointed at the light on in Michael's room. She placed an index finger against her lips and made a silent "Shhhh," then she bent and freed his already rock-hard cock from his shorts.

"What? Here?" Bruce asked, then his knees buckled as Micaela took him into her mouth. She was down there just a minute, just long enough to lube his cock, then she stood, turned away from him, pulled her dress up, and lowered her panties. He spit on his fingers and rubbed it on her anus, then he pushed himself into her.

She braced herself on the wall with her outstretched hands as Bruce drove his cock deep inside her. She straightened, turned her torso, then began breathing heavily in his ear even as he continued to assault her he-pussy. "You're so fucking hot," he told her. She nibbled on his ear, driving him wild with ecstasy. "You're everything I could ever want." She slid her tongue into his ear, swirled it about. "I don't ever want to be without you."

Micaela placed her mouth against his as they kissed ever so passionately. Bruce reached forward and began to jerk her clitty. "Cum for me, baby. I want you to cum with me. You'd better hurry, though. I'm about to bust this nut." Everything became silent. Bruce jerked her cock every bit as hard and fast as he fucked her ass. Then, "Oh, shit!" He whispered it, but it was still loud enough to be detectable. Just then, Micaela came as well, skeeting her cum all over the wall.

She fell back, completely out of breath and Bruce's cock still embedded in her ass. She slid off it, kissed him, then shooed him out the door. Fifteen minutes later, she texted, Michael heard us. He's not angry, though. He says he's happy that I have found such a wonderful man. I'm in the bubble bath ATM, playing with my clitty and thinking of you. XXX/OOO

Bruce had gotten a shower of his own. When he emerged, he read Micaela's text and smiled.

Over the next month Bruce would pop into the book store a couple of times a week. If Micaela was working, he would kiss her, hold her, tell her how beautiful she was, and if Michael was working, Bruce would joke and tease, call him buddy and pal, and act like the true friend he was to him. All of this did not go unnoticed by Jilly, who was alone in the book store one particular day. Bruce walked in and called out, "Michael. Micaela. Anyone here?"

"Just me," Jilly answered.

"Oh. Hey," Bruce said, mildly startled when Jilly came from behind a row of books. "Where's everyone at?"

"And by everyone you mean ...?"

"Michael. Micaela."

Jilly studied Bruce for a few tense seconds, then asked, "Why do you treat them differently?"

"Because one is my best friend and the other is my girlfriend," Bruce answered. "Isn't that obvious?

"No," Jilly said as she shook her head. "if Micaela is here, you're all over her kissing and rubbing and shit, but if it's Michael, I mean ... nothing. It's like he doesn't even exist."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bruce finally asked her.

Jilly was quiet, contemplative, then her face lit up like a Christmas tree as she finally discerned the one crucial piece of knowledge needed to explain everything. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" Bruce asked.

"You haven't got a fucking clue." She began to laugh. "I'm not laughing at you, just the absurdity of it."

"I want to laugh at absurdity," Bruce told her, "so tell me what the fuck you're talking about."

"You didn't hear this from me," Jilly said in prefacing her declaration. "I mean, he'd fire me for sure if he knew I told you." Bruce told her to get on with it, so she did. "Michael and Micaela are the same person. Michael is a sissy. Micaela is his alter ego."

"You're lying," Bruce said.

"Think about it," Jilly responded. "Have you ever seen them both in a room at the same time? Have you ever invited both out but one or the other always cancels at the last minute? Come on,

Bruce. You have to have noticed at least that much."

Bruce thought it over. Everything Jilly just told him made perfect sense. Michael canceled the day of the Fleetwood Mac concert citing inventory. Micaela canceled a lunch here due to a change in her doctor's appointment and a dinner there due to a friend needing her. "Why the fuck didn't I see this earlier?"

"Blinded by lust, I guess," Jilly offered.

Bruce shot a disconcerting look at her, then pulled out his phone. He called Michael, then put it on speaker. "Hey, bud. I'm supposed to be meeting Micaela for lunch. Want to tag along?"

"I wish I could, but I'm stuck at the book store. We got quite the large shipment in today of Emmerson and Dickenson. I've got to catalog them and then find a place for them."

The look Jilly gave Bruce as she violently shook her head was akin to Oooooo, that's what I was doing. He's lying to you.

Bruce nodded to Jilly, then said, "Okay, then. Maybe next time."

"Text her now," Jilly suggested.

"No, I'm going to do her one better," Bruce said, then he left the book store and made his way home. He tried the door to Michael's place, and it was unlocked. Bruce silently walked across the floor until he had a perfect view into Micaela's room. He saw a buck-naked Michael pulling up some yellow panties. He then pulled a dress over his shoulders, checked his look in the mirror, then pulled a blonde wig from the foam head upon which it rested. He made to move it onto his bald head, then he stopped. He slowly turned, saw Bruce, and began to cry. Bruce slowly shook his head, then he walked out.

The following day, Michael was up at four. He did his dailies, then he sat directly in front of Bruce's door, hoping to talk to him, to explain things. He just knew if he could pour his heart out to his confused lover then everything would be alright. He would find a way to make it alright.

At six, Bruce's door opened. He took a step forward, then stopped. He bit down on his bottom lip, held his tongue, then he took a deep breath and said, "What do you want, Michael?"

"Just a chance to explain, Bruce. Please?"

"Explain what, exactly? How you lied to me? How you tricked me?"

"No. Bruce. I—"

"I have to get to work. If you'll excuse me." Bruce shut his door and pushed past Michael.

When Bruce returned at six p.m., he found Michael still waiting outside his apartment. "What do you want?" Bruce asked exasperatedly.

"To talk," Michael said.

"Time for talk is over, don't you think?"

"Please, Bruce. Just hear me out. Give me five minutes."

Bruce laughed. "You know what? I'm going to do just that, because I want you to hear just how preposterous any justification you can attempt to give this sounds."

"I admit that I screwed up, Bruce," Michael said as he followed his neighbor and former lover into the apartment. "I never should have tried to trick you or seduce you like I did, but I was just so attracted to you. I just wanted to show you that we could be happy together. That's all, and we were happy, Bruce. We were in love."

"Just stop," Bruce said. "You're making a fool out of yourself, Michael. I never loved you."

"How many nights did you take me into your arms and tell me you loved me?"

"I never took you into my arms, Michael, I took Micaela, and I said those things to her. How many times, though? Geez, I don't know. Let's ask her. Oh, wait! I'm sorry. I forgot, she can't talk to answer."

Five seconds of silence, then Michael said, "It was my heart you were speaking to, Bruce, and my heart that answered back."

"It was an illusion, Michael. A well-crafted piece of fiction by a man consumed with the notion of plot and story."

"Don't say that," Michael begged Bruce. "Don't cheapen what we have by—"

"What we have? What we have?" Bruce shouted. "It's not even what we had, Michael. You and I had nothing. I am not gay. I do not have sex with men."

"Then what do you call what we did last night or any of the fifty other times we made love?"

"For the last time, you and I were never an item. I accepted Micaela as a wrongly sexed woman, a female-gendered person living with male sexual organs. That's a far cry from ... What's the term? Sissy? Is that what you are?"

"Bruce, look. I know that—"

"I know that your five minutes is up, Michael. Don't make me put you out."

Michael stood there a few more seconds, then turned and went back to his own apartment.

Bruce got a shower, microwaved a pizza and some egg rolls, then ate and watched SportsCenter until he dozed off. At three a.m., he was awakened by incoming texts. He looked to see they were from Micaela. Please come to your door. He opened it to see Michael wearing the blonde wig and the blue teddy, the one he wore on the first night they made love. Bruce sighed deeply. "Why?" Michael went to text something, but Bruce stopped him. "Just tell me."

"It doesn't have to end like this, Bruce. We could be so good for each other. I love you with all my heart."

"And we always hurt the ones we love, don't we?" Bruce said with a quiet laugh. The question was rhetorical, Michael knew, so he didn't bother trying to answer it. "You know, Michael, that first time I saw Micaela in your apartment, I know you saw that look in my eye. I know that because you smiled at me. That was your opportunity to come clean to me, to tell me the truth, but you didn't. Then, the following day, I questioned you about that woman. Again, you had the opportunity to come clean, but you didn't. I'm not necessarily saying that you would have convinced me to be your lover, but the possibility did exist, however small it might have been.

"This is the reason I cannot be with you, Michael. The very foundation of friendship I had built with you and the relationship I had with Micaela were built upon a bed of lies, and I will never be able to forgive you for lying to me, Michael, because you ended up breaking my heart. You do not deserve a happily ever after with this, with me. Most people have one chance to get things right. You had two, and you still made a mess of things. I just hope you can treat the next guy in your life with a little more respect. Now, if you don't mind, I have to be up in a couple of hours."

Michael had listened to everything Bruce said, and he knew every bit of it was the truth. He silently made his way back to his apartment, little knowing that was the last time he would speak to Bruce again.

Two weeks later, as Michael was headed to work (he was in Micaela mode today, and yes, she had finally found her voice), he ran into someone moving furniture into apartment 3-C. "Whoa-whoa-whoa there, fella. What do you think you're doing?"

The man held up an invoice, read it to himself, then responded with, "Unless you're Doug and Wendy Roper, I ain't gotta tell you shit." He laughed. "'Course, you look like you could be both of 'em."

"But, this is Bruce's apartment," Michael said as the door flew open.

Standing in the doorway were two very un-Bruce-like people amid a backdrop of empty space. "Just put it anywhere," Wendy said to the delivery person. To her husband, she said, "Well, look what the cat dragged in, Dougie. A new plaything, perhaps?"

"Hmmmm, I deliciously hope so. Do you like to play, Little Miss?"

Michael studied them briefly, then said, "It all depends upon the game."

"Oh, Dougie has more games than Milton Bradley," Wendy said in way of a response.

Michael produced a business card that read Journey's End Book Store. "Four blocks up, left two blocks. Can't miss it. Come see me and we'll talk."

Six months had passed since Michael and Bruce's final conversation. He had seen Bruce just once since, and that was today through the window of a fine dining restaurant. Bruce was seated across from someone Michael had been acquainted with, another sissy who went by Tina. She and Bruce seemed happy. She even wore a ring on her left hand.

Michael's eyes misted over. He so desperately wanted that happily ever after with Bruce, but his duplicity cost him everything. He was seeing Wendy and Doug on a regular basis. Even though it wasn't what he wanted, he figured Happily for the Moment was good enough.