The Reunion

It had all started that magical night. I'd always thought I was just another heterosexual crossdresser, until Andy kissed me. It was like somebody threw a switch! As I tossed and turned, I wondered whatever happened to him? Was he still in the Marines? Had he gotten married? Or was he alone, like me? Did he remember me too? Before I drifted off to sleep, I decided to find out.

* * *

It took me a few days to clear my schedule, and I spent most of them surfing the web. The reunion was that coming Saturday, featuring a luncheon at Grover Cleveland, followed by a dinner dance at the same country club where I had posed as a tipsy coed. Next, I searched for any information about Andy's whereabouts. And came up empty. His mother was still living in the same house, but Andy seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth. My parents couldn't help -- they were long gone, having moved into a retirement home I bought for them in Scottsdale in return for promising not to tell anyone where the money came from. But Audrey Forrest was still in town, divorced and working as a real estate agent.

I packed two suitcases and flew first class to Cincinnati, where I had to rent a car and drive for almost an hour. It was a beautiful spring day, and I sprang for a convertible, which made the drive almost enjoyable. When I finally pulled into Dullsville, it was like the hands of time had turned back twenty years -- nothing had changed. I found the street where Andy's mother still lived, pulled into the driveway, and strode to the front door. When she opened it, I hardly recognized her: the sixty something woman standing before me was older, of course, and there was a sadness in her face that I did not remember. But it vanished as soon as she realized who I was. "Jay!" she cried, and we hugged for a long time before she sat me down in the living room. "You look wonderful! I can't believe you're here. Your parents disappeared without a trace years ago. What are you doing back in Dullsville?"

"Believe it or not, I'm here for our twentieth reunion."

She laughed out loud. "Oh Lordy, what a surprise. I never thought you'd show your face again after the prom."

"To tell you the truth, I got so drunk that night, I can't even remember how I got home."

"You didn't! When Andy dragged you back here, I helped you take off your dress and clean off your makeup, and put you to bed on that couch you're sitting on. Your folks were very unhappy the next morning."

"So was the rest of the town. Where is Andy these days?"

The sadness returned to her face. "Let me get us some coffee."

* * *

It took some time before she was ready to talk about it. Andy had gone into the Marines right after graduation, and fought in the Gulf War. He was almost killed in an ambush, and although his wounds were not life-threatening, he was never the same after that. "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, they called it. When he got out, he came back here for a while, and spent hours staring off into space. He sat right there, or in his room, for days on end. At first I thought it was only temporary, but as time went by and he didn't get any better, I started to give up hope. I tried and tried to get through to him, but nothing seemed to work. Until I showed him that picture."

"What picture?"

She got up and returned with a photo album. "You probably don't remember this," she said as she flipped through it, until she found an old color photograph of a boy in a white tuxedo, standing awkwardly next to a gorgeous girl in a long formal gown. It was Andy and me, on our way to the senior prom. "You were so precious! When I showed him that picture, he brightened up immediately, and we talked for hours about the good old days. 'What ever happened to Jay?' he'd ask me, over and over.

"Eventually he got well enough to leave home, and he enrolled in community college, but that didn't last long. He got a job, and met a girl, but that didn't last long either." She wiped a tear from her eye. "But he refused to just stay here. He's working for some county down in Kentucky, it's a nothing job really, but it keeps him outdoors and he doesn't have to wear a tie."

"That sounds like Andy."

"At least it keeps him fit. Do you know, he could still wear the clothes he wore in high school? I have a closet full of them."

"So he still looks the same?"

"I wish! That last time I saw Andy, which was Christmas last year, he looked like a homeless person -- scraggly hair and a long beard. Although I know he has a small apartment in Cincinnati. His disability checks from the Marines go there."

"So he drives across the river to Kentucky every day?"

"He rides the bus."

"Do you mind if I ask for his address?"

"Of course not! I'm sure he'd love to see you. And it might be the best thing for him. The doctors tell me that reliving happy experiences might help to bring him back." She hesitated. "There's one thing I haven't told you."

"Yes?"

"That day I showed him that picture, he said something. 'The only girl I ever loved, and she wasn't even a girl.' Do you know what he meant?"

"Yes, I think I do."

* * *

On the drive back to Cincinnati, I tried to process what I'd learned about Andy. He looked like a bum, he was living in poverty, and he remembered me as a girl. More than remembered -- he told his mother he loved me. It doesn't get much heavier than that!

I parked a block away from the address his mother gave me and cased the neighborhood. Andy lived in a scruffy garden apartment complex full of bikes and strollers. His apartment was on the first floor, and I could stake out the entrance from a park bench just outside. I left, checked into the Hyatt Regency downtown, and unpacked one of my suitcases. The one filled with women's clothing, shoes and accessories.

I hadn't anticipated this kind of date when I packed my suitcase in Portlandia! Fortunately, I'd thrown in a khaki skirt and knee sox, in case I needed to do some shopping -- one of the many things I've learned after years of crossdressing is that the easiest way to blend as a woman is to wear what the women wear, and most of the dressy outfits I brought would have been totally out of place at a place like a mall. Although my hair was marginally long enough to wear as a woman, I had a wig that was very similar to the one I wore to the senior prom, and I wanted Andy to see me the way he remembered me. After a quick bath, I put on a body briefer and slip, some makeup, and did my nails. Memories of the only time I did this for Andy came flooding back. I wouldn't have his mother's help this time! After I padded myself up, I tugged on my wig, which instantly made me look ten years younger. I pulled on a girly mock turtleneck, stepped into my skirt, and pulled on my knee sox. So cute! Ballet flats completed the look.

I put my car keys and stuff into a casual purse, retrieved my car from the valet (nobody seemed to notice that I dropped it off as a guy and picked it up as a girl) and drove back to Andy's neighborhood. The sun was low on the horizon, so I wore sunglasses, and this time I parked as close as I could -- it would be dusk soon, and I always felt very vulnerable as a single woman after the sun went down. I tried the phone number that his mother gave me, but there was no answer, so I returned to the park bench and sat down to wait.

I didn't have to wait for long. A municipal bus pulled up, and a tall, middle aged man shuffled off and started walking towards the apartment building. His jeans and flannel shirt looked like they hadn't been washed in decades, which may have been the last time he had a shave and a haircut. It was Andy, all right. I put two fingers in my teeth and gave him the shrill whistle that we used to use to signal each other when we were kids.

He stopped instantly and slowly turned around. Then he just stood there, staring at me, for a minute at least, maybe longer, before he took a few tentative steps in my direction, and then stopped. I waved at him and motioned for him to join me. A few more baby steps, another pause, and eventually he was standing in front of me, looking down at his feet, his face flushed with embarrassment. He didn't smell very good, but I stood up and hugged him, and he hugged me back. "Jay," he finally said in a halting voice, "is it really you?"

"It's Jayne, remember?" I replied, in a voice he hadn't heard in twenty years. I took his hand and guided him to my bench. He collapsed next to me and began shaking and sobbing, tears streaming down his ruddy face. I just let him go, rubbing his shoulders occasionally, and saying over and over, "It's okay, Andy. It's okay."

* * *

We sat on that bench until way after dark. Once Andy stopped crying, he started talking, and with a little prompting from me, he took me through what he could remember of the past twenty years, which wasn't much. He vividly recalled his induction into the Marines, how he almost washed out of basic training but refused to give up and eventually became a squad leader. He also recalled his service in Iraq, up to the moment when a roadside ambush killed two of his buddies and almost him. He remembered next to nothing about his agonizing recovery, and the endless meetings with doctors and shrinks before he was finally eased out of the corps. His inability to bring back unpleasant memories seemed like some kind of defense mechanism to me, because he had no trouble remembering the good times at Grover Cleveland High. Especially the senior prom.

"You were so fucking hot," he said. "That night, after you pulled down your dress, I was lucky to get you out of there alive."

"I have no recollection of that. I was so drunk! Yesterday your mother told me I spent the night on your sofa."

"Yep, when you weren't talking to Ralph on the big white phone. Why did you call my mom?"

"To find you."

He paused for a moment to digest this. "I think about you all the time."

"And I couldn't get to sleep the other night, thinking about you."

He looked me up and down. "So when did you go under the knife?"

"Me? I'm still a guy, Andy."

"No shit! You just dress up like that?"

"Sometimes. And sometimes I don't. Call me a flibbertigibbet," I shrugged.

"What do you do when you're not making pretend you're a girl?"

I laughed. "It's a long story. I was hoping maybe you'd take me out to dinner, and we could get to know one another again."

Now he laughed. "Uh, I might be able to afford Taco Bell."

"My treat then. On one condition. No, make that two."

"Yes?"

"Do some laundry and take a bath!"

* * *

We agreed to meet the following night, which was Friday, the day before the reunion. I hadn't even mentioned the reunion to Andy, and I was so focused on my date with him that I wasn't even sure I wanted to go. Still, it would be good to have a ticket, just in case. So before I went to bed, I logged onto the Grover Cleveland website and signed myself up. I got a ticket for a guest too, in case Andy felt like going. If he didn't, I could always bail out. Now that Andy was back in my life, going to the reunion as a woman was the farthest thing from my mind.

I slept until almost noon, thanks to the 3 hour time difference, and treated myself to a room service breakfast in my nightgown and robe. Then I took care of business calls and emails before I spent some time surfing the web. For some reason I checked out the reunion blog, and found this post by Audrey Forrest:

Guess who just signed up for our reunion? Jay Fawcett, our class clown! Is the circus in town? Did he buy a new dress? We'll find out Saturday night!

I was regretting my decision not to sue her for slander. Then I took another look at the itinerary for the reunion, and came up with the beginnings of a plan. I spent the next couple of hours scrutinizing real estate sites for information about Audrey Forrest's listings, and was surprised when I finally looked at the time. Almost time to get dressed for my date with Andy! I spent a few minutes looking at the hotel guide, found the Cincinnati yellow pages in one of the nightstands, and jotted down some numbers and addresses. Then I called Andy's mother to ask her a quick question, and got the answer I was hoping for.

It was time for Jay to become Jayne. First, a long, hot bubble bath. I took my time shaving off every bit of body hair, from head to toe, then I added some more hot water and just luxuriated in the sensation of sheer femininity before I toweled myself off and put on my wig and makeup. It was always a rush for me, dressing myself as a woman, but knowing that I was getting dressed for a date with a man sent my dopamine levels through the roof! The outfit I'd selected looked best with an "all in one" body briefer underneath to nip my waist, with lovely silicone breast forms and hip pads to round me out. Sheer nylons made my legs look and feel wonderful, a camisole and a lacy half slip would help my tie-back top and swirly skirt look like they were made for me, and my designer flats were very cute. A necklace, hoop earrings with built-in clips, a classy woman's watch and a few rings completed the look.

I grabbed a matching purse and collected my car for the drive to Andy's. He was waiting for me at our park bench, looking just the same as he had the night before, only it was obvious that he had scrubbed himself and put on some clean bum clothes. Why was I so attracted to him? Part of it had to do with our remembered past, and how totally cool he'd been the night of the prom. On another level, I felt genuine compassion for him after all he'd been through, risking his life while I was making millions and living la vida loca. But beyond all that, Andy had an animal magnetism, which brought out my female instincts to make a project out of him.

The attraction was mutual. "Wow," he said when he climbed into my car. "I still can't believe it's really you." It was a warm spring night, and I had the top down which made conversation difficult, but we were content just to be in each other's presence. Twenty years is a long time, but it seemed like only yesterday when he was driving me to the senior prom. Now I doubted if he even had a driver's license, let alone a car. Why was I so attracted to him?

I pulled up at the Hyatt and he followed me into the majestic lobby, drawing stares of disapproval from some of the staff and guests. Andy never seemed to care what people thought of him, and I took his hand as we rode the long escalator up to the mezzanine and found the fancy restaurant. The maître d' blinked when he saw us, but maybe he thought Andy was a rock star, because he showed us to an out-of-the-way table. Andy asked for a beer, and I ordered a vodka tonic for old times' sake. We sat there in our little booth, staring into each other's eyes, for the longest time.

"I called my mom this morning. She told me you're in town for some kind of reunion."

"Yes, can you believe it? Twenty years since we left Grover Cleveland."

"I can't believe you'd want to go back."

"It's not important to me now." I explained how I'd come across Audrey Forrest's insults, and was so pissed I decided to come back and rub everyone's noses in my improbable success. As we sipped our drinks, I took him through it, nice and slow: how I'd gotten in on the ground floor at an unknown company, inspired their groundbreaking marketing campaigns and ridden the wave. How I'd piled up millions of dollars. And how I was exploring my feminine side. The waiter came, and with some urging from me, Andy ordered a huge steak. I had pasta, and several glasses of wine, while Andy ate like a Biafran child.

When we were done, the waiter brought Andy the check. I asked him to hand it to me, and charged it to my room while Andy looked on. "Room 921/2," he said. "You have two rooms?"

"It's a suite, actually."

"It's probably bigger than my apartment."

"Come see."

* * *

The next morning, when I finally woke up, I looked over at the snoring hunk of man next to me and sighed. What a night!

Most of the men in my life had been fey Portlandia boytoys. There was something raw and genuine about the way Andy made love to me, although at first I didn't think he had it in him. When we got to my suite, he looked around nervously while I kicked off my shoes and curled up on the sofa in my parlor.

Eventually he sat down next to me, and I could tell that he was staring at my legs. "I never saw them that night," he finally said.

"Huh?"

"Your legs. You were wearing that long dress. And yesterday you had on those long sox. They're really nice." I took his hand and slid it up my nylons, feeling a spike of arousal while he began to explore under my skirt. I looked up at him expectantly and he kissed me, which felt funny at first because of his fuzzy beard, but he was very tender and gentle, almost tentative in the way he teased me with his tongue while his fingers continued to probe. I reached down to feel him through his trousers, and was surprised that he wasn't hard. He broke things off and stammered, "I'm not much of a man anymore. Haven't made it with a woman in so long...I'm sorry...."

"Is it because I'm really a guy?"

"No! You're more of a woman than any woman I've ever made it with. It's just been so long...."

"That's okay, baby. We can just cuddle and talk, as far as I'm concerned. You want to know something? That kiss just now, it reminded me of the time you kissed me at the senior prom. So nice."

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Want to see something? I've been carrying this around for twenty years." It was an old, creased picture of my face, cut out from a photo like the one his mother had shown me the day before, taken the night he took me to the prom.

"I was a sweet young thing, wasn't I?"

"You blew my mind that night. Messed me up real good, too. I mean, I made it with some girls after that, but it never felt right...."

"I'm so sorry, Andy! I never meant to fuck with your mind. It was all supposed to be just a stupid prank."

"Don't apologize." He kissed me again, and I thought I could feel him stirring through his trousers. He looked into my eyes and said, "Maybe we could try." I started to unbutton his shirt, and after he finished I unfastened his belt. He stood up and dropped his trousers, then I helped him pull off his boxers and sox. I was surprised to see that he was almost at half mast. I stood up and slowly stepped out of my skirt. Then I untied the bow behind my blouse and pulled it over my head. My lacy half slip was next. I sat back down beside him and let him kiss me, again and again, gently stroking him while he fondled my fake breasts through my camisole, and caressed my legs through my stockings.

Then I bent over and took him into my mouth, teasing his quivering penis with my teeth. "Oh baby," he moaned. "Please don't stop." I kept at it, nibbling and sucking, and he got harder and harder, until I could tell that he was past the point of no return. "Oh God," he cried out, and then he was cumming in my mouth, wave after wave, which I slurped down as best I could. I was so into pleasing him, which turned me on too, and when he was finally done I sat up and kissed him, a long, deep kiss that had me smoldering. He pulled down my pantyhose and started to fumble with my body briefer, confused that he couldn't just pull it down like panties.

I stood up and took his hand, leading him into the bedroom. I pointed to the king sized bed and said, "Wait there." Then I took a babydoll nightie, thong, garterbelt and stockings out of my suitcase and went into the bathroom to change. My wig was a mess, so I brushed it back into shape, then I took off my lingerie and nylons and pulled on my nightie and thong. The stockings were a nuisance to fasten, but I hoped they'd turn him on.