O Is for Olivia

The black stockings helped of course, as did the tight leather mini-skirt to show off my thighs. I'd spent quite some time deciding on which top to wear, ending up with a shiny gold blouson which plunged quite some way to reveal my ample bosoms. I'd picked gold earrings and neck let too, and several gold-effect rings. I'd probably taken even more time over my make-up that day than any other day when I'd dressed en femme, but it wasn't that which caused both Jim and Gina to stare.

"My God, Olivia. You've gone blonde!"

Indeed I had. I'd decided that if I was going to do without the wig from now on I ought to consider doing what many other women did - use my hair as a fashion accessory. It really was getting long by then, basically a page-boy style but quite a bit longer, and I'd decided to have my very first proper hair-do. So I'd asked Karen what she'd thought, and she agreed. I really did feel good standing there with Jim and Gina and David waiting to go in. It had worked. Well, or course it had, I'd trusted Karen's opinion and she'd been right. Blonde suited me.

Gina and Jim had obviously decided they weren't going to hang around with David and me once we got in, and went off to join some of their other friends. David got me a drink and we found a couple of seats not too near the stage, and we sat. And we held hands, and chatted again, and had our drinks and chatted some more, it was noticeable before too long that David was getting distinctly friendly. I didn't mind of course, but his hands were beginning to wander just a little bit. I was being careful with my gin-and-tonic intake though, however the evening was going to go I wanted to remember every single minute of it.

I knew there was liable to be one major problem, and it surfaced on about the third song. As one of the guitars began a very familiar riff, David stood up and grabbed my hand.

"Come on, girl, let's dance."

He'd assumed I'd want to. Quite a reasonable assumption too, but I had my doubts. As the group got into 'Hotel California' - they did some other songs as well as M and P oldies - I ended up swaying on the dance floor with my partner. I'd been expecting it, and dreading it. Because I just couldn't dance. Never could. In the old days when Jim and I had gone out on the town together or with mates, he'd been there leaping round and I'd just bobbed up and down, wondering why I couldn't do the same.

And it was the same there, I was jigging to the Eagles beat but not putting on much of a show at all. Almost before the song ended I'd led David off the floor and back to our seats, apologising for not having a sense of rhythm and for not being able to match his own efforts. It stayed that way too, the both of us sitting together and enjoying the music, until almost the end of the concert.

Then the intro to 'California Dreaming' hit our ears, and David once again wanted to lead me onto the dance floor. I agreed, time to have another stab at it. And it was different. I know some of the reasons why though I'm not so sure I understand them. The tempo was different though I'd failed in my attempts to dance to upbeat numbers in the past. But the combination of that and the different 'feel' to my body in some way made the difference.

I was dancing in high heels, and somehow it seemed easier. That and the tight skirt, and the bouncing breasts, and the longish swinging hair. And somehow the encouragement from David and from quite a few of our fellow dancers when they noticed a large-breasted blonde moving round on the floor with them. All those things somehow combined, and I was bopping and moving with the best of them, totally delighted that for the first time for some reason I could join in and do myself, and David, justice.

And when they did 'Dancing in the Street' next, not the Jigger/Bowie re-make and not the original, I know, but the Mamas and Papas arrangement which I really did like, well, we just took off.

For three minutes I was shaking everything I'd got, moving and grooving, all that, I was having a wonderful time. And then - the last song - 'Dedicated to the One I Love'. Well, I was in heaven. David's arms were round me, my cheek was against his, we swayed to the music as the Mama Cass singer belted out the love song. Wow! I knew I'd made it.

Three quarters of an hour later, David and I were standing on the front step of my flat. I'd just opened the door, but I didn't want to go in. Not yet. I didn't want the evening to end.

"Good time, Olivia?" he asked.

"Totally" was my reply.

And I kissed him. On the lips. Hard. And long. And with some feeling. Thanks to David I'd enjoyed my very first evening out in company as a woman, well, my first with such exposure as a woman. It really had been probably the best night of my life, and I just didn't want it to end. We kissed again.

"So What's it like, dating a transvestite?" I asked.

"I don't know. I'm dating a woman."

We kissed again, totally up-front French kissing, and for the first time, yet another first, I felt a hand sliding up my thigh, inside my skirt, grasping my bare cheek, pulling my body close to his. And I didn't pull away. I was still missing one experience as a woman.

"David. What would you say if I asked you in - for a coffee, maybe?"

He smiled. "Are you asking me?"

"Yes."

He came in.

I woke up late the next morning. Very late. When I opened my eyes and peered at the bedside clock, it showed - late. In fact it showed twenty minutes after I'd been due at the Garden Centre! I flung the bedclothes off, and then noticed that I was only wearing a bra, and that I was alone. I padded across towards the bathroom, there was a hand-written note on the dresser.

'O. THANKS!!! You made this guy VERY happy. I'll be in touch. Soon. D. XXX'

I looked at the note, I was obviously pleased but I was in a hurry. Less than half an hour later - a record for me, but I had still realised I had to take care with my appearance. I had a responsibility to Gina and to Jim, as well as to myself, to look good enough to pass, basically to do my job convincingly as a woman and not cause them problems. Which is why it had taken me twenty-five minutes instead of maybe ten to shower and dress and leap into the car and drive just up the road.

I got out of the car, turned to lock it, and stood still for a moment, looking at my reflection in the big shop window. OK, I know, typical tranny behaviour. But I wasn't just looking at the woman in the dark denim mini-skirt I could see. I was thinking about the previous night. About just how good it had felt to be with a man, with David. About the look on his face when I began to move from the kiss and cuddle to the fondle and grope. About his body, the first time I'd seen a totally naked man in that sort of situation.

But I was late, very late. I dashed in the door and skipped past the display area towards 'my' till. Gina was there, filling in for me. And she wasn't alone. My therapist was there too!

"Oh hell, Gina, I'm really so sorry, being late I mean, really very sorry. I just woke up late."

I stopped. The two women in front of me were both staring. I wondered for a moment if I'd done something dreadfully wrong, messed up my mascara or my lipstick or something. Then I realised, they'd been talking about something before I'd arrived and I'd interrupted them. I paused, waiting for the telling-off which never arrived. Gina looked towards Martina, then back towards me, then again at my therapist.

"This should look good on her record, Martina. Don't you think so. 'Late for work. Reason - lost my cherry the night before'."

"Best excuse I've ever heard. So, Olivia, how was it?"

They both looked towards me but Gina just couldn't keep a straight face.

"Olivia, my darling, if you could see the look on your face. OK so you might have had to hurry your make-up, you might like to go and freshen it in a minute or so, but - you look SO smug. You needn't be really, you're not the first woman ever to get herself fucked. So. How was it?"

And she just hugged me. And all three of us almost collapsed into a hugging tearful mass. It was Martina who pulled herself away, probably realising she ought to be a little more professional about this.

"Right, Olivia. You've clearly made a huge step towards womanhood last night. We'll maybe chat about it in our next session. I really just called in briefly to have a word with Gina, to see how she thought you were getting on. It's clear I didn't really need to, did I? So tell me, what's he like?"

I couldn't really describe him in a hurry, I just grinned inanely at her. "Rather dishy, really."

Martina had to leave, she just gave me a quick hug before she did so.

"Olivia, dear, we WILL talk about this next week. I'm SO happy for you, he's a very lucky man."

And from behind me I heard a familiar voice.

"I am, I know."

I turned and grinned - at David. I'd no idea why he was there, I knew he should be at work which I'd assumed was why he'd had to dash off and leave me that morning.

"Sorry ladies, but I just couldn't keep away."

I looked towards him, then towards Gina and Martina who were obviously expecting me to say something. I was almost lost for words.

"Er - David. This is Martina, my therapist. Martina, this is David. My boyfriend."

Boyfriend. That word. It sounded SO good.