Becoming a Woman

byDawns©

It was about six in the evening. An hour had passed since I came home from Walmart where I had been working for the past four years. The eight hour shift at cashier passed quickly. A large number of buyers came bye my register.

My shower had been adjusted to the lukewarm temperature that I like and lasted some five or six minutes. Standing in front of the bath room mirror I brushed and blow dried my hair.

I had just had my hair done the other day at the same hairdresser where my sister Kassey had been going for two years. Vincent', an obviously gay man, had been doing women's hair at that corner location forever.

He styled my dark hair short and parted high on the left. Combed a little forward it came just over the right eyebrow. The style got me a few compliments from the girls at work.

In a few minutes I would be going out with Jason from the transgender support chat room. I had been frequenting the room for a few weeks on the night when he first came in as a guest.

After a few hours of private messaging I had the sense that I would not mind meeting him. He didn't approach me for cyber sex and I liked that. Instead we talked about this and that. Jason asked me questions and I answered him honestly. I like that he actually asked permission, considered a courtesy in the room, before he called me to private message. After a few chats he no longer needed permission.

I came to know Jason from those chats. His favorite television programs were Monk, Burn Notice and the history channel. He enjoyed jazz music and played guitar. He had begun lessons on the instrument as a seven year old child and fell in love with it. He had said once that there was no point in dropping an instrument after a few weeks.

Jason had plenty of anecdotes and had even recommended at good wart remover. One of his favorite stories came from his early teens. The adventure involved sleeping out in a tent in the woods with friends. He fished often with his uncle and cousins.

It was not unusual for the us girls to discuss progress and problems regarding our therapy and our lives. Jason asked me about that stuff. I didn't mind answering him honestly. I had even told him that I was pre op.

Anyway I stood in front of the bath room mirror toweling my body which by now, age 24, was developing nicely. I dressed in low rise jeans, paisley V neck tunic and my favorite brown open toe pumps, the ones with the wide heal.

My sister Kassey had by now moved out and into an apartment with her girlfriend. We kept in constant touch. I decided to call her.

"Hello," she replied on the second ring.

"Hi Kass," I said.

"Stephie hi, " she greeted, "what's going on?"

"I'm going out on a date tonight."

"Cool," she replied in a cheerful tone, "good luck."

"I hope so, thanks," I replied.

My mother was sitting in the living room on the chair beside the sofa listening to her favorite Cole Porter music. She had played Anything Goes soundtrack a thousand times.

"How did you meet this boy?"

"On line in a chat room, " I answered.

My mother's curiosity was aroused.

"Be careful. There's a lot of people out there that will say anything."

"He's bi sexual," I countered.

" What do you two talk about?"

"Mostly small talk," I replied.

"like what?" mom wanted to know.

"Everything from television to going fishing," I answered, "as a boy he used to fish with his uncle and his cousin."

"Did he say what he does for a living?"

"He said he works in the ship yard at New Port News. He lives in Norfolk."

"Honey, he's a long way away."

"Mom it's not that far. Some of the people in the chats are from California."

"What does he do there?"

"welder"" I said.

"Stephanie were I you I would go over the same ground more than once. He should answer the same way."

I knew where my mother was going with this. If he's lying to me it would be a different lie the next time. They can never remember the original lie. Is he really 25? Does he like to fish? For that matter does he work at welding battleships?

He never approached me for cyber sex but I started it a few times. I had told him to pretend that I have a vagina. I like to pretend.

He had sent a picture which I saved in my lap top. In the photo he is naked. I like that I thought. I can't wait to have sex with him. He should not be too surprised. I told him that I still have my penis.

He's handsome. He has brown eyes, black short hair, and a square face. He's five foot nine with a medium build. He keeps fit. He had sent all this information in a separate text file.

My dad came into the living room. He looked at me for just a second.

"Hot date tonight sweetheart?"

I giggled at the comment. I had not had a date since the guy I met at Amy's wedding. We barely had a week.

Had I been a genetic female I suspect my dad would have given me the same talk he gave Kassey when she was sixteen and dating boys for the first time. The advice was that they will use a girl for sex then dump her. I can still recall him telling her that, and my mom nodding agreement.

"Like he used me for sex," she injected sarcastically.

The story goes that they had dated for a while, broke up then got back together. A high school age meaningless fling became a serious post college grad romance.

"The second time we met," my mother began, " was actually on a track."

This time should be very different. I need a bra now where as back then with the ex marine I did not. Also my waistline had shrunk a little and the hips had rounded. The facial features that God had given me seem to go well with the reshaped body. I've been told that I'm attractive and this boosts my ego. He said it did not bother him that I have a dick. I would not be the first person that he had bum fucked.

About three o'clock that Saturday afternoon a blue Honda that I had never seen before stopped on the road in front of our Blacksburg, Va house. A man, who looked familiar from the photo in my lap top, alighted from it and walked up the driveway.

I opened the front door.

"Jason Collins," I said.

"Stephanie MacMillan," he replied.

"Come in," I said, "and make yourself comfortable."

As he went over to the sofa, I went to bring my mother. I was eager to introduce them.

The two shook hands and began to talk.

"The yard is busy these days. They build aircraft carriers."

"Stephanie says you're a welder."

"I like it."

"How long have you been there?"

"I started there when I was 19. I learned welding at a trade school."

So far so good I thought. He was telling my parents everything that he had told me on line. The two went on to have a very long chat. He spoke about home in Norfolk and about vacations in Maine.

"It's cold up there."

"Yes but' it's very pretty,"

"You go to the mountains a lot."

" I love the mountains up north. I've been to the top of mount Washington."

"I'll bet it's very cold up there."

"Not in the spring," he answered.

Always a gracious host, my mother put on a pot of coffee. While it perked she brought in a tray of cookies. While we snacked at the dining room table I watched him. I was enamored.

"You're daughter and I have been talking in the chat room for the past six weeks."

"Really! that long?" mom asked.

I had told my mother about TG support chat room. I wanted her to know about girls like me who visited the virtual living room night after night . She also knew about my other friend, a Transgender person named Sally.

Sally came from a small town in Ohio, from a house by Lake Erie. She had spoken fondly of the place. She had expressed an interest in visiting her chat room friends in person. I had looked forward to going out there some day to see her.

" I talked to Sally for a few minutes the other night."

"Chat room Sally?" I thought there was no one else he could mean.

"Yeah," he said, "she's rebuilding a truck from scratch."

It did not surprise me that Jason would know this. He had talked openly about every day life to a lot of people in the room.

The drive in theater had always been a favorite place. As children Kassey and I used to go with mom and dad to watch a children's movie such as a Disney film.

After a long, nice visit with my parents Jason and I left the house for the Jerico Drive -in Theater. During the early autumn evenings it got dark around 8. The movie would start then. Jason and I took the speakers in through the window. I was impressed by the quality of their sound, far better than the weak, monotone that I heard as a child.

The car parked in a front row with the giant screen some 100 feet in front of us. Off to our right some distance away the snack bar was already drawing a crowd.

"Do you want anything sweetheart?"

"popcorn, large," I replied.

On that note he left the car. I remained behind, lit a cigarette and opened the window,

I had told Jason that I smoke. He didn't but I recalled him saying that people do inside his car.

Several minutes later he returned carrying two buckets of popcorn and passed one to me through the window.

"Did you enjoy your smoke?"

I looked at him. No one had ever asked that. Yes I enjoyed it. I would not have had it if I didn't.

As we nibbled slowly at our popcorn the movie played on the giant screen. About halfway through it he placed a hand on my thigh and gently rubbed me. Pirates of the Caribbean was playing.

I always thought Johnny Depp, the film's star, was cute. He was someone who could make me have a little sexual fantasy. Through parts of the movie I was a genetic girl in his bed room.

It was a slow ride to the exit behind the long line of other cars that were lined up bumper to bumper. To pass some time Jason talked a little bit about the affair he had had with a boy his age when he was 15. He had also told me about this on line. I had told him about one week with an ex marine who was not comfortable having sex with me two years ago.

The conversation lightened. I had mentioned my favorite scenes in the movie. he recalled the scenes he liked.

It was very late when we arrived back at my home. Even so, I invited him inside. I wanted him. The virtual sex that we had many times had left me aroused and very willing.

In the privacy of my bedroom we stood caressing one another. He kissed my neck, and my cheek, then our lips met. Our mouths fell open and tongues probed licking each other for several seconds. Now as I looked straight into his eyes I felt him opening my slacks and pushing them down. I allowed him to ease me down onto my mattress where he pulled my slacks then my panties completely off.

He commented softly on the small size of my penis while he gently stroked it. I answered him.

"Feminine hormones do that."

His manhood seemed massive at seven inches long by my estimate. I began stroking him until it stiffened. I wanted him inside me. He knew from our on line encounters that I did not believe in condoms.

He rolled me to my side pushing his massive member into my hole. It's rapid forward and back again motion lasting more than a minute pleasured me greatly.

His "squirt gun" fired.

Having climaxed he rolled me onto my back. Semen oozed out from my hole as I held him tightly. Our lips met.

We woke up the following morning in dishelved sheets. A six no one in the house was awake yet when we walked a few steps down the hall and into the bathroom.

"Ladies first," he said.

Ten minutes passed while we showered and caressed one another. Moments later we quietly sat in the kitchen making small talk while waiting for morning coffee.

"I never told you this one."

Now he made me curious. I had to know what he never told me.

"You know Melanie," he began, "was Paul."

I looked at him wondering why that was interesting and how he knew it.

"She's my cousin."

"Oh my God!" I began, "she's a good friend in the room."

"She has problems at home."

"That sucks," I said.

"She spends a good deal of time at my apartment with my sister and myself."

I asked if his sister is a T girl.

"She's genetic."

"Say hi to Melanie and give her my best."

"She'll appreciate that."

Melanie, a thirty year old, had begun dressing by age 12. By 18, making one last attempt to prove that she's a man, she had begun five years in the army. She began dressing full time shortly after her discharge. Now thirty, and a college graduate, she works as a marketing manager, and lives as a woman.

"My aunt and uncle never accepted it."

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