Sheena's New Girlfriend

Andrea and I looked at each other and then nodded glumly: Sheena smiled and scooted off to attract a taxi driver's attention and within fifteen minutes the three of us piled into Sheena's ground floor flat. Then while Andrea vanished into the toilet, I grabbed hold of Sheena's wrist. "It is you, isn't it?" I demanded, rather more forcefully than I intended.

She nodded, then said. "Let go: you're hurting."

I loosed her and she stepped back and shook her hand theatrically. "You never did know your own strength, you great lumox!"

I stepped back and sat down on a slightly thread-bare couch. "Okay, Sheena, or Donald, or who ever you are: what the fuck's going on?"

The blonde shrugged. "You know how it is, darling,.." I didn't nor did I get a chance to find out because Andrea reappeared at that moment.

3. Sheena!

Well there you are... Donald/Sheena was back in my life with a vengeance and I was still looking out for him/her.

Over the next few weeks, while Andrea and I were laying the final plans for our wedding I found out just how little had changed: the orphanage was still there, only it called its self a children's home now. I drove past a couple of times and found that it still looked as forbidding as ever. The old school was still there too, only it called its self an academy these days: again I didn't go back for a visit; they had been pretty keen that I should leave some nine years earlier so I did not feel that I should impose myself on them.

I began training as a civvy paramedic: turned out that I had very little to learn as my Army training had been bang up to date. Within three months I was able to give my notice as a Security Guard and done the green uniform of the Ambulance Service: yes, another uniform, seems that I am fated to wear one for the rest of my life. Andrea encouraged me every step of the way and before the year was out, we were married.

My new job was shift work and I was never sure of when I was going to be home: oh, we had a duty roster but because of staff shortages, we never stuck to it for long: the phone would ring and: "Tony? Can you do a double shift?", or "Tony, can you work the weekend?". The roster would be published at the beginning of the month and if we were lucky would last a whole week before the phone rang again. A total lack of routine became my routine, strange as it may sound.

Then, straight out of the blue I was sent home early: or rather I was brought home when I was only four hours into my night shift. A pub brawl had turned into a riot and I had been hit by a thrown house brick while I was treating one of the casualties. I vaguely remember a copper shout: "The medic's down!" just before someone turned out the lights.

An ambulance crew checked me over and bandaged my head then tried to take me to hospital; I declined because I knew just how busy they were. In the end the police ran me home in the back of a response car. I waved them good-bye and walked in.

It was all in darkness and there was no sign of Andrea so I decided to make myself a mug of tea. She had obviously gone to bed early. I don't think that I have said anything about the new house, but we had moved into a nice bungalow in Solihull when we had got married. And being a bungalow, I had to walk past our bedroom to get to the kitchen. I almost missed it, the noise, I mean, it was a very quiet feminine moaning. I paused to listen... It sounded ecstatic: it also sounded like Andrea.

Well being me and being slightly groggy from the bang to the head, I decided that tea came before anything else so I turned away; felt myself become dizzy and realised that I was falling. The rest was nothing but vague dream-like memories until I awoke in hospital several hours later.

I remember the bedroom door flying open and Andrea, who was wearing very little, shouting. "Du lieber Got!" I think it was. She turned towards the bedroom...

There was someone else inside and I think I heard another woman say. "Call an ambulance, he doesn't look good."

I have another vague recollection of a naked blonde leaning over me and saying. "I's okay, Tony, the ambulance is on the way." I'm sure of this one because I can remember a pair of very nice breasts swinging into my field of view.

I recognized her perfume... Or I dreamed that I did: but it wasn't just perfume: there was a musky overtone to it and I recognised the wonderful scent of female arousal. I tried to sit up and couldn't, Blackness rose up around me and I felt myself relaxing.

"Sheena?" Did I actually say that or did I dream it? Then Andrea was there, her long chestnut hair hanging down and framing her face. The blonde faded but her perfume did not: it clung to my wife. Oh God, Sheena had been there...

"You're safe, my darling..." That was it: next thing I remember was the hospital and a nurse was telling me that I'd had a nasty bump on the head and was concussed.

After a couple of days, I was discharged: tests had shown nothing serious was wrong and I was on sick-leave for a further fortnight. Time hung heavy on my hands (Oh, yeuch that is one hell of a cliché... Come on, get a grip, you speak better English than that! Okay, okay! Let's start again!)

What I meant to have said was that I was bored: I'd always been with people (Orphanage; Army; Work) and I had always been active (Same List): but here I was moping around the house while Andrea was at work. I still had dizzy spells so I had more sense than drive or even go out. I was on medication for the head injury so alcohol was off the menu and there is only so much day-time television that a normal intelligent person can tolerate... About twenty minutes in my case.

At the end of the first day I was ready to climb the walls and to cap it all something was bugging me: something important that I couldn't quite remember. It was like an itch that I could not scratch. I knew that I had not been casivaced immediately on Friday night.. I vaguely remembered being brought home – but after that, nothing made sense: everything was shadows and confusion and having nothing to do, it niggled at me.

It got worse over the following week: oh, I wasn't alone all of the time: a couple of coppers dropped in on Wednesday and had a chat about the incident. They took a statement from me, drank copious amounts of tea and told me they had someone for throwing the brick. I thanked them.

Thursday, things changed. About two in the afternoon, the doorbell rang. When I answered it, there was Sheena: as bright as a button and as irrepressible as ever. I won't say that I wasn't glad to see her because I was: hell, I'd have been glad to see the Income Tax Inspector, I was that bored.

She threw her arms around me and kissed me again: this seemed to be her normal way of greeting people; then over a mug of tea, I managed to get some of the story out of her... Some of what she told me might even have been true!

Sheena's Tale.

Sitting down and talking to Tony gave me a strange feeling. Okay, he had looked out for me when I was at my most vulnerable in that children's home – did I mention that I hated the place?

I think that I was about twelve when my parents broke up and I ended in care: I was small for my age and as insecure as hell. The last place I should have been was a council-run orphanage and to say that I got picked on would be an understatement! If it hadn't have been for Tony and his protective streak, I would have been psychologically scared... Okay, I'd have been psychologically scared even more than I was by just being there.

School was little better: we all went to Menzies High, a comprehensive for eleven to eighteen-year-olds: I hated the place! But again Tony protected me... Oh, I was nothing special: he protected just about anyone who needed it which meant that he had a reputation as a trouble maker: bullies are subtle; Tony was not!

He left school and joined the Army at seventeen and the school staff heaved a sigh of relief... But enough of Tony, this little piece is supposed to be about me. In the middle of the year, the lawyers suddenly agreed, probably because they realised that there was no more money to be made, and I was allowed to move out of the home and go to live with my aunt. My slightly batty aunt. Well at least I only had to worry about school and after Tony left I didn't go very much, anyway: so the problem lessened.

No, my aunt was beyond batty: she was as mad as a bucket of frogs and had her own way of looking at things. She looked at me and did not like what she saw because I was a boy... She didn't seem to like boys; and by the time I was eighteen she had me living full-time as a girl, which is how Sheena came on the scene. I must admit, with my aunt's single-minded coaching and dedication, I made a pretty good girl and easily passed as one in public. Donald was despised but Sheena was the object of admiration and longing so you can't blame me for taking the easier option.

There was one problem: well my aunt saw it as a problem: I didn't. My sexuality did not change with my gender... I prefer girls! Despite my aunt's determination to fix me up with a boyfriend: I still prefer girls!

Now at twenty-four I've undergone several operations but still have the 'biggy' to go: I'm what is commonly know as a 'Shemale' although I should be described by the politically correct term; a 'pre-op transwoman'... I think I prefer 'Shemale'; its more accurate and I'm not exactly a PC person myself. Actually, I'm in no hurry as I utilize my "asset" to make a living : I star in a certain type of film. Actually attractive shemales are in demand, especially ones who can perform in more ways than one. I'm not massively endowed but what I have still works and if people will pay to watch videos of me poking it into various assorted orifices then I am happy to take advantage of them.

Suddenly, right out of the blue, Tony reappeared after nearly ten years of absence... Not only Tony but his girlfriend, Andrea... Oh, wow! It was lust at first sight. No, not Tony, silly – Andrea!

Well having listened to her, it was clear just who she was. Donald no longer existed and she was Sheena with a vengeance. She was probably the most feminine person that I had ever met: oh sure, I'd come across shemales before, but was having trouble accepting her as one. I mean, I could see that she had once been Donald; difficult to accept as that was, but Sheena was more 'woman' than some of the "real" women I had met. Damn it! The English language isn't capable of allowing me to express myself without sounding stilted.

No, I told her that I found it hard to accept that she wasn't a girl and so she showed me her equipment. Okay, her cock wasn't a big one and her balls were also on the small side: but that was due to the hormones and other things that she had to take. I must admit that my head still seemed to be spinning as she coyly adjusted her dress and tucked the miss-matched organ back inside her panties.

"Does Andrea know?" I asked, for want of something to say.

"Know what? That her bridesmaid is a shemale?" For some reason, probably beyond my male comprehension, she sounded hurt.

"Sorry!" I mumbled wondering what the hell I was sorry for. I mean I did not understand women: I suspect that no man actually does. Believe me, I wasn't stupid enough to include Sheena in this list... She was a woman for all intents and purposes and I suspect that she had an unfair advantage: she understood men.

She gave me a brief open handed wave that I interpreted as "Everything's cool", but did not answer at once. I made us another pot of tea, and sat back to await further developments. Tea is after all the fuel that drives British society. Sheena sipped hers and I didn't have long to wait.

She turned those baby-blue eyes on me and watched me for a while as if judging my mood. "Tony." her husky voice tugged at my heart, "I'll always be your friend: I owe a great-deal to you. You've got me out from under a lot more times than I can count."

Suddenly she began to sob. "Oh, Tony my darling, what must you think of me? I've treated you terribly!"

I was at a complete loss – what did she mean? I tried to get her to tell me more, but she just changed the subject as women always do. When she left shortly afterwards I was none the wiser.

4. Aftermath

A few days later, while I was cooking Andrea's evening meal, she phoned me: she was going to be a bit late... A work related thing. Could I please put the dinner on hold?

I bit my tongue and said that I would. She eventually rolled in at about 20-00 hours – that's eight pm for the civilians reading this (that's if anyone ever does!). She gave me a big happy, sloppy kiss and I went back to resurrecting the meal. She had given me something to think about: several things actually. How many times had I done something like this on her? Oh, sure: it was work; but I was beginning to realise that home and family life should come first. And no that was not because we were undergoing traditional role-reversal. We hadn't pursued traditional husband and wife roles anyway, not with both of us working full-time. We had both mucked in and done what was necessary to keep the home in order. In effect, we had a partnership: not a husband or wife led marriage.

The second thing that she gave me to think about was the perfume that lingered over her hair and clothing: it was a very expensive one, it was also Sheena's favourite.

No, I am not normally paranoid: the idea of my wife having an affair, especially one with another woman, a woman who was also a shemale and my best friend was laughable. Well wasn't it? Andrea was straight; she'd never shown the slightest interest in another girl... But did she see Sheena as a girl? No, I wasn't paranoid: but sitting at home on sick leave had given me too much time to think and imagine the impossible. Andrea and Sheena? It was laughable! Well wasn't it?

As I dished up the meal, I realised just how careful I had to be: I realised that I loved both of them and did not want to cause any upset. I needed to be diplomatic and not charge in with all guns blazing.

Over the meal I casually brought the conversation around to Sheena, who else? "Hey," I said as I sat down opposite my wife, "your perfume smells great."

She looked slightly shocked. "Do... Do you like it? Sheena gave it to me. It costs more than I would want you to spend on something so unimportant."

I made the usual 'husband-type' reply. "If you like it, then it's important to me!"

Andrea clearly liked my answer, that is if her loving smile was anything to go by. She smiled warmly and switched to German. "Danke meine Liebling!"

I waited, but she carried on eating her goulash: she was clearly enjoying it, but I knew she would I had really laced it with paprika, which I knew was her favourite spice. She didn't seem to realise that I was asking her about Sheena; or if she did, she was waiting for my next remark. I looked straight across at her. "Darling; be careful around Sheena, she's not quite what she seems."

Andrea looked blank, but realisation seemed to dawn. "Oh, I know; she's very talented. Did you know that she's a film star?" She said innocently but gave me a funny look when I spluttered.

She giggled. "Oh, don't worry: I'm not a prude! Besides she showed me one of her videos!" She was wide eyed and innocent-looking as she said it. "She has such a beautiful body: I wish my breasts where as firm as hers."

She then jumped up and fetched me a glass of water because I was coughing and spluttering fit to choke. As I drank it, she continued. "Oh, come on, you've got to admit that she really is beautiful, clothed or naked!"

I looked incredulously at her. "I wouldn't know: I've never seen her without her clothes!"

Her expression was incredulous as she stared at me. "What? But she was your girlfriend... Oh don't tell me, you never... Never er, had... Er, you didn't? How come?"

I felt myself blushing. "I was very innocent then: besides she wasn't that kind of girlfriend: she was only thirteen I was almost seventeen: so no, we didn't!"

Andrea looked as confused as I felt as she finished the last of her goulash. "Well take it from me, she is gorgeous; you should see that video... I didn't particularly like the special effects; but it was very erotic!"

I poured myself another glass of wine knowing what was coming next, but dreading it anyway. "Special effects?"

"Yes," she said brightly, "it must have been computer jiggery-pokery. They gave her a thingy!"

"Oh?" I said, even though I had a terrible sense of foreboding. "What sort of 'thingy'?"

Andrea hesitated. "A... A penis; you know, a cock!"

"Yes darling, I do know what a penis is: I've got one, remember?" I watched emotions chase each other across her pretty face: embarrassment, confusion, annoyance and finally amusement. I should have shut up but I carried on. "I've got one and so has Sheena!"

Andrea grabbed the wine bottle and poured her self another glass. I had rattled her, I could tell because the wine overflowed onto the tablecloth and she never noticed.

"Oh no!" She said hastily. "She hasn't – it's a squirting rubber strap-on dildo! It's very realistic and feels just like the real thing!"

Suddenly, wide-eyed, she shrieked, clapped her hand over her mouth, dropped her glass, jumped up and ran out of the room. I watched her go and then buried my face in my hands. Things started coming back to me: the night I was rushed to hospital, for instance. There had been a second woman here: I remembered now: Sheena was the naked blonde who had leaned over me and tried to reassure me that everything was going to be alright!

Sheena! I had been cuckolded by a woman with a cock: I had been cuckolded by my best 'female' friend! I sobbed quietly for quite some time...

5. Damage Limitation

I felt numb: everything seemed to be scattered around me in pieces on the dining room floor. I picked up the wine bottle, it was about a quarter full. I hesitated: should I? No! I put it down again; I had enough problems without getting drunk... Andrea – Why? I'd gathered that Sheena was mainly into women, but Andrea?

I felt helpless – No! I felt useless! I knew that Sheena had a new girlfriend but it never dawned on me that it was my wife. Here I was: Anthony: the guy that looked out for everyone else – but just who was looking out for me?

Sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes? In other words, who guards the guard? - Or who looks out for me? Despite being on medication. the bottle began to look more and more attractive so I put it in the fridge. What was I going to do?

I wandered off into the living room and slumped down on the couch where I sat feeling very sorry for myself. Could I even compete with Sheena, after all she was the best of both worlds: a beautiful woman with male genitals. I could see what my darling Andrea could see in my best friend: oh I could. Hell: I had to admit that I fancied her like hell myself! The only thing that put me off was that small thing that she had showed me. It didn't repel me. How could it? I had a similar one. No! It was the fact that it was attached to a woman: this is what put me off Sheena! Confusing, isn't it?

I guess I had been sitting their, feeling sorry for myself for about three quarters of an hour when I heard the doorbell ring. I was on the verge of getting up to answer it when I heard Andrea open the front door. What the hell? I thought. Who cares? And slipped back into my personal dark place.

I sensed movement: then suddenly a waft of expensive perfume got through to me. I looked up and saw the foremost two women in my life: the women who had betrayed me.