Julia, Ben and Lisa Ch. 19

Ch. 19: Saturday - Monday

A few quick notes:

1. this is the nineteenth and last chapter of a longish story, a novel in many chapters

2. everyone is 18+

3. there is no safe sex here - cause it's a fantasy, not an instruction manual

4. crossdressing and gender bending, not everyone's cuppa tea - be forewarned

Because Saturday, Sunday and Monday are short reads, I combined them into one final chapter. An afterward will follow.

Part 1: Saturday

In the morning Julia didn't want to talk about it, about the creep and his reaction. So we didn't. I knew I had to let her get over it in her own way, in her own time, if she ever could. But she was safe. That's all that mattered to me. Thanks to Sammie there wasn't a blessed thing he could do to her.

She brought up Josh, tried to be cheerful. She told me that she really did like him, and wondered why I hadn't. I had to ask, "Are you seeing him again?" Over our cornflakes.

"Nope. He really is moving to London, showed me emails from his boss about it. Plus, and you're gonna love this, says he wants to recommit to his marriage, to Debra. I goofed on his ring tan so he knew I knew. Even showed me pictures of her. I mean after, after he and I were...aah..you know, done." Julia wiggled her eyebrows for effect and grinned. "Debra's cute."

"Good Lord. Kids?"

"No. Glad about that. Somehow it would..."

"Yeah. Make it worse. But I am sorry if you're going to miss him."

Julia looked at me and said, "Hmmm. You know the part you don't get? About Josh? I sorta feel like I owe him. Weird yeah, but he gave me back something, some self-confidence or a sex life, or whatever. Really."

"I guess. I mean if you really..."

But she wasn't done explaining. "Not every guy could pull that off after the year I've had. He made it nice, nice to be a girl again, to be seduced. Anyway, it was more me seducing him, you know that. I wanted it, needed it. You helped me with that, helped me admit it to myself, that it could still be nice to be in bed with a man, nice to make love again, to feel his weight and feel his body on mine. In mine. Can you see that?"

I think I might have rolled my eyes a little at that, and said, "I'm glad the sex was good."

Julia sniffed at that. "Don't be jealous. Don't be mean about it."

And that really brought me up short. Jealous? I was jealous? Damn it all. Was that it? Cause he could have what I couldn't? Cause he could have Julia that way? Despite everything she'd given to me? Was I that petty and stupid and mean? I was ashamed.

Julia said, "So yeah. I'm not exactly in mourning for him, not gonna pull my hair out or wear all black from now on. It wasn't exactly true love. But I will miss him. He's nicer than you gave him credit for. I know he's not Harry but in his own way he's kind. And he's a great lover. So there." And she stuck her tongue out at me.

"OK. I'm sorry if I offended..." Which sounded stiff, but I was beginning to mean it.

"No need." Julia smiled and reached for my hand, turned it light. "Just wanted to get that off my chest. You're still my number one man, and that is true love." Her eyes were shining and she began to laugh. "Or maybe Bobo is number one, but that's cheating since we always stop at first base. Sammie too, no bases at all, so that's a different kind of cheating. Just so you know Josh is in my top five, we can leave it at that. OK?"

"Gotcha. And thanks for making me number one." I smiled over at her, more in love than ever.

"And Harry? Is that really over? Is he going to London too?"

"I don't know about that. Never came up. But yeah. It's over."

She squeezed my hand. "OK then. A wrap on those guys."

My phone rang just as we got up to do the dishes. It was Mom. I knew I had to take it. We hadn't spoken in a few days. But more than that. I realized how much I missed seeing Mom and Dad every day, and how eager I was to get home to them on Monday when everyone would return.

"Hi Benji! Just got a minute here. My Saturdays are crazy. Anyhow, I'm so sorry we haven't see you and Julia the whole time. We miss you honey. Seems like you've been gone for months! And I'm thinking let's do it tomorrow. Cookout. Over here. Last chance to entertain you two before Beth and Roger get back. Maybe Bobo can stay out in the pool house? Like before? Just some steaks maybe? Or whatever. Your Dad mentioned grilled lobster. I know Julia loves that too. So maybe that? Noonish?"

Julia had been listening in; I'd held the phone out between our ears. She was nodding enthusiastically, so we signed up for Sunday lunch and Mom rang off with a cheery reminder that the two of us should be good.

Julia said, "It'll be good to get out of here. And I always love going over to see Auntie Jane and good ol' Uncle Ed, love how he pinches her ass when he thinks us kiddies aren't looking."

"Yeah. Believe me. I miss them. But you know what this means?"

"Yeah. I do. Today is our last day. Gotta be. But tomorrow, I do need to get out of here, please!"

"Yeah, of course. You heard me. Told her yes." I knew of course what was happening. No matter what I could do for her, she wasn't going to feel safe in her house until her Dad and Mom were home.

"I know. I know. Just...Tomorrow we bring two cars back to your house and I'll stay over till my Mom and Dad get home. OK? They're due in Monday around 6 o'clock I think. Will be nice. OK?"

"Of course." And it was settled. Today our last day together and alone. My last day.

I knew what was coming, what I had to do, but asked her anyway.

"Um...so today we...?"

Julia smiled and said, "Well today we clean up. Step one is to return that dress and any of the other outfits you haven't worn. You may be too rich to care, but it bothers me. Step two is, well the things you have worn..."

"I know. The short shorts, dungaree skirt, the pleated blue I wore last night, and the tops and...I was wondering if you...if you might keep them?...want them?"

She laughed and said, "Thought you'd never ask. If it wouldn't bother you too much."

"Nah. I can handle it, you don't mind me checking you out I see you in one of them."

Up in her room we made four piles: the returns, the things Julia would keep, a few things I might get to keep and what would have to be discarded. The only discards that bothered me were the inserts and the bras. She couldn't hide them. I couldn't hide them. A girl giving up her tits, a very weird feeling. We bundled them together with the pantyhose, the Italian sandals and some of the makeup Julia couldn't use. The keeps for me included just three of the panties I loved, the rest could go out. Julia tried on and decided to keep the short-shorts and a couple of skirts. We'd only return the fancy dress and one skirt that had gone unused.

We showered and dressed, anxious now to finish the job. On the way to the mall we tossed the trash bag of discarded items in a dumpster behind the 7-11. Goodbye tits! We took a side door into the mall to avoid VS and certain people who seemed to work 100 hours a week. I got my credit account adjusted for the returns and we headed back to her home.

Sitting poolside with soft drinks I remembered. "Oh fuck. The cocks." Now I had to decide if I could chance it, but no, the panties would have to be enough. Just like the good old days. Julia blushingly volunteered to keep one, "...let's say the black one for instance..." so we did that. I kissed the head of the white one, then covered him up in some old bubble-wrap from the garage and we took him back to the 7-11 dumpster to join the tits. Goodbye Stryker!

I asked Julia on the way there if she wasn't afraid of Aunt Beth finding hers. She giggled and rolled her eyes, saying, "...oh...haha!...Beth has her own little mommy's-helper in the back of her closet...she's seen my vibe too...so not too worried she'll freak at a dildo." So that was settled.

By now it was almost 4 in the afternoon so we took naps, then went out with the remainder of the gift money from my parents. This time we splurged a little more at a fine seafood place. It still cost only about $80 including tip.

We went back home, locked up tight and laid in Julia's bed watching more Breaking Bad till each of us drifted off. Me first apparently. It was the second and final night ever of my sleeping with Julia in her bed. I'm pretty sure she kissed my cheek as I drifted off and I'm pretty sure I heard her whisper, "I love you Ben."

Part 2: Sunday

I am a cocksucker. So nice to say it out loud in her bed. But not too loud. Julia was close by, in the bathroom getting ready to shower. But to know the feel, how it feels between my lips, and at the back of my throat, how my tongue can wrap it like kudzu on oak, to know the feel of bloated balls on my chin, to know the feel of his eyes, the way a man's eyes look down at a girl on her knees, and to know how a girl can never really be ready for that first gush, but can love and savor and swallow it for him. The feeling of awe (omg, how does he do that?), of appreciation (he picked me!), of lust (can we, you know? again?) and of submission (thy will be done) I experienced after blowing Harry. After my two times with Harry.

Then I caught myself. Stupid. Cause you know what's even better than cock? Pussy. And you know what's better than pussy? Angela's pussy. And you know what's better than Angela's pussy? Angela. And oh-my-God she was one her way home to me. I could finally see her and kiss her again on Monday.

I was replaying all that had happened. To me. To us. Yes, I'd become a real life cross-dresser and cocksucker. I'd learned what it was to wear a cute outfit and to behave and walk and kneel and please like a girl. I'd met and made love with a great guy. I'd also made love to a girl, a wonderfully sexy, extravagantly funny and cool and lovely and wonderful girl, a girl I couldn't wait to be with again.

Julia too. She'd made love, and to someone she really did like, after a year off. She'd earned something, something real, something difficult. And she'd won. We'd won actually, even if I was just a bit player. Mr. Anderson had lost. Being an asshole hadn't worked out for him. Our man Sammie had taken him down hard.

It was a lot, more than a lot. Julia came from the bath with two towels on, one turbaned around her beautiful hair the way Angela's had been, the day Julia caught us almost in the act. Made me smile. I got out of her soft warm bed reluctantly, aware I'd probably not get a chance ever again to sleep in it. I was so happy then as I went to get myself cleaned up.

When I got downstairs Julia had coffee plus bagels and cream-cheese ready for us. Looked like we weren't watching our figures any more.

Julia was scrolling her phone, telling me the news. Amanda was freaking out about how cool Barcelona was. Julia's roommate Alicia was freaking out about some necklace she'd lost on the beach. Julia's parents were freaking out about getting through customs. Josh was freaking out about how beautiful Julia was or is or something and how great they'd been together. So much for Debra, I guess. Aunt Beth was freaking out about the antiques that were to be delivered today, hoping nothing had shattered, expect two big boxes. Julia's girlfriend Cassie was freaking out because she had finally hooked up with some guy she'd been creaming over for months. Even Sammie apparently was freaking out, but for a good reason. He said he was working about 18 hours a day finishing his dissertation.

So I checked my phone too. Bad news. My buddy Will was freaking out because he had broken his wrist in a fall while hiking the Pyrenees. Snapchat of Ed pointing at the wrist laughing while Will was in the ER. Sensitive guy. My Mom too was freaking out. Where had the big pot for boiling lobsters gone? Was it at her sister's, you know from when we did the birthday? Was it there? Could Julia and I look? Then good news. Angela was actively super-freaking out (her words), in the car headed for Sacramento, and would be home as scheduled tomorrow.

Everything seemed pretty normal cause it seems like most people most of the time are mostly freaked out about something.

By 10 a.m. we were both packed and ready to head over to my home, my parents. We did a final check, and then a double-final check of Julia's room and mine. All was good and we went downstairs with our bags. The lobster pot had been found and sat waiting by the front door. I let Bobo out back to pee before the drive. His bladder no longer what it had been. I opened up the garage. Julia would be taking her Dad's car. She stopped to wash our breakfast dishes just as the doorbell rang. She stood with her hands in soapy water, looked at me and said, "...the antiques?"

When I turned the knob the front door exploded back at me and smashed my forehead. I went upside down, landed hard on my side and sprawled out dazed on the carpet. My face was up and I saw Mr. Anderson as he entered. My head was ringing. I could see two of him, could feel the blood running down my cheek, could feel it running into my eyes. Mr. Anderson stood over me. I tried getting up and ended up back on my ass again. He gave me a harsh stare and laugh.

Anderson's face was red, blotchy and ugly. He turned fast and accidentally kicked over the lobster pot, which bounced and clanged into the dining room. He stood watching it, confused, then turned again and barked at Julia, "My property cunt. Now." Julia was screaming and ran toward the back sliding door, toward the yard and Bobo. Anderson was quicker. He caught her by the waist, lifted her off the floor and dragged her into the living room. I could see through the kitchen, Bo going crazy on the back deck. He had seen. Anderson slammed Julia to the couch. He jumped up astride her, was banging her head into the back of the sofa cushion, screaming, "They're mine...mine...not yours...mine you fucking slut...mine..."

Julia's legs flailed wildly as she sought a place to reach with a kick. Her arms were on him, punching, trying to pull his hair, clawing the side of his face. She bellowed back, "...getoutyoufuckfuck..." He had her by her hair and her head was bouncing against the soft back of the couch.

Anderson reared back and slapped her face hard. "Bitch!" he screamed. Julia wailed out as his hands went to her throat. He turned his head back to check me. "Who the fuck is this little dickwad?" I could see Bobo on hind legs at the glass door in back, whimpering and howling to get back inside. Anderson went back to work trying to strangle Julia.

The sound of Julia gurgling did it. Somehow I got up this time. I stumbled and almost went down, couldn't see anything now from my right eye. I shuffled and weaved over to them. His full concentration was on her, spitting disgusting words in her face. She gurgled, cried out, choked, was trying to spit. I lunged and hit him in the back of the neck with my fists balled together. Anderson released her, twisted and elbowed me viciously in the ribs. By then I'd climbed up his back and had my arms around his neck, trying to choke him.

He stood and I rode him like a jockey, legs wrapped around his pelvis, arms locked tight around his neck. He stumbled, hit the coffee table with his leg and almost went down. Still I rode him. He spun me fast and my foot connected with the table lamp beside my cousin. It hit the floor and shattered glass was everywhere, the carpet, the couch, all over Julia. She was gasping for air below us. The shards of lamp crackled under his feet. Still I rode him.

I heard Bobo join in (how?), looked down and could see sharp yellow teeth ripping at Anderson's calf. A low, menacing, rumbling growl, like thunder before a downpour, came from Bo, then crazy, frightening, screaming barks. Anderson shrieked, writhing in pain, pulled back out of the bite and kicked Bo in the face. Bobo went down with a screeching, whimpering howl as Anderson regained his balance.

I could feel Anderson's strength as he pulled at my arms. He twirled us towards the fireplace and rushed back to slam me into the hard wood of the mantel. I heard Julia then, "Stop it! STOP it! Oh, Ben!" He slammed me once, twice. The first blow got my shoulder, the second the back of my head. It was a burning, searing, blinding pain, pain all over, and I was blubbering snot and blood, both eyes closed. I willed my arms tighter around his neck, could hear him gasping as he went to launch me a third time against the stone and wood. One eye squeezed open and I could make out Bobo back on his leg, the harsh bark deepening, terrifying.

Then Julia was up, shrieking, her hands and nails clawing at Anderson's face, slicing red bloody divots in his cheeks. He roared, reached back and punched her hard in the face. Julia's entire face seemed to explode in blood and she crashed back on the carpet with a moan. His breath came in hard, fast gasps. I still had him. He was kicking at Bobo, trying again to free his leg, and started to fall. We went down hard, me underneath, the full weight of his body crushing me to the floor. My arms fell from his neck but Bobo was still at him. Anderson rolled over to see me, reared back for a punch to my face. It glanced off the side of my head and his fist smashed into the hardwood floor.

Above Anderson I could just make out...something. Something there in a kind of moving, darting shadow, and I heard the word "four." Why four? Four what? Was confusing. Anderson screamed in pain and twisted to the side, his hands grabbing convulsively at my shirt. As he did I could make out Mr. Sanders above us, a look of grim determination on his face.

Now it came to me. The head of the golf club, the driver, waving above Anderson, above us. Mr. Sanders had got him once in the back.

"Fore!" he said again and teed off. The club head glanced off Mr. Anderson's shoulder then his skull, and nearly got me on the side of the face. It skipped off the floor and shattered on the stone hearth of the fireplace. Anderson's mouth opened, his ugly bloody tongue hanging there, his face ashen and frozen in a silent mask. His body shook convulsively a few times and then he went limp and collapsed on top of me.

Anderson was out, unconscious, but Bobo was still there tearing at him and screaming.

I heard Mr. Sanders tugging Bobo away from his leg, could see Anderson's shredded pant legs, the blood and ripped flesh underneath. Blood from the side of his head was dripping into the blood on my forehead. Anderson's head fell to the side, on my burning shoulder, like a child seeking his mother's warmth.

Bobo sat beside us with a low humming growl, watching, waiting, making sure.

I heard, as Mr. Sanders went to Julia, heard her sobbing. She was alive at least. I felt a surge of relief. Alive. I struggled under Anderson to see her, her face and white blouse covered in gore. I pushed hard at Anderson's chest trying to roll him off of me. There was no strength left. I could hear Julia crying, and Bobo, satisfied over the Anderson business, went to her. I could hear Bobo whimpering and snuffling into her bent leg, could hear Mr. Sanders saying, "It's fine now child, it's going to be fine." Could hear a siren.

I thought, "Well, who's the dickwad now?" and passed out.

When I could see again, some glimmering ghostly figures, there were two paramedics crouched over me. Anderson was gone, at least gone from my body and my sight. Everything was on fire, the whole world. I was being lifted to a gurney. Then I saw. I forced my eyes open to see Anderson seated up against a wall smeared with his blood, cuffed in front, two police officers standing over him, his eyes open but unfocused, nasty green bile coating his ugly lips.

And my sweet Julia. Sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, crying softly now, paramedics cleaning her face gently, another giving her a shot of something in the arm. Her gurney was there waiting. Bobo crying too, his fur blood-stained, whimpering, crying and walking circles at her legs, Julia quieting the dog with tender pats and little noises. Mr. Sanders to the side of the couch now, standing in broken glass, being interviewed by another officer, saying, "...was quite a fine golfer in my day."