The Secretary Experience

I had to laugh. The two were acting like children, having fun, being playful and playing with each other. I could tell that they were connected and that made me feel even more jealous of Bonnie. First the bathing suit and then the relationship. I'd seen snippets of them together before and knew how well they gelled, but I wasn't truly envious until witnessing them acting like children one minute, playing in the water, and then overly hormonal teenagers the next, caressing each other as they stood in the pool, the water up to their chins. They belonged together more than any couple I'd ever seen and that included my parents who were still together after forty years. I was looking forward to seeing them again.

Paul and Bonnie nuzzled each other for a few lingering minutes. Bonnie pushed Paul away before splashing his face with a forceful shove of her hand. Paul laughed, stuck out his tongue and when he reached for Bonnie, she swam away making a raspberry sound. Paul laughed again, racing after Bonnie with greater determination. She slowed, not exactly letting him catch her, but not hindering his efforts either.

"Got you!"

They embraced again. Kissed again. It was like I wasn't a bystander, taking it all in. I was invisible. This was a couple in love and not afraid to show it.

"Get a room," I joked.

"Good idea," Paul said.

"Later," Bonnie said and the way she said it told me that she meant it.

They kissed one last time before Paul climbed from the pool. He grabbed a towel, dried off, and set the towel on the back of the lounge chair. "When should I put the steaks on?"

Bonnie thought about it. "I'd say in about twenty minutes."

Paul took a seat, leaning against the wet towel. We chatted, both of us watching Bonnie swim a few laps. I kept my eye on Paul. The way he stared at Bonnie and the coy smile on his face told me what he was thinking, and I knew from her earlier comment that she was amenable to his advances. I had to wonder what Bonnie would think of Paul if he shared the same peccadilloes that I did. Would she be so obviously in love if he liked to wear women's dresses and he had unexplored fantasy of living his life as a needed, unneeded secretary. I looked away, glancing at the garden along the back fence. Was there any woman out there that could put up with that? Put up with me?

Bonnie emerged from the pool, squeezing her bicolor hair in both her hands like wringing out a mop. She grabbed a towel, dried her lovely form, and made her way into the house, calling out to Paul that it was time to start the steaks.

Lunch was delicious. Paul knew his way around a grill, but one didn't spend what they did on an outdoor kitchen if they were just going to flounder using it. Bonnie's pasta salad was delicious, and the ears of corn were hot, moist and delightful. We talked about my casts and how much I was looking forward to Wednesday when I'd finally have them removed. Paul asked about my job hunt and I admitted, with a slight rose color on my cheeks, that I hadn't started looking, holding up my hindered hands as the reason.

"You'll find something," he said, sounding confident.

I nodded in agreement. "Once I start looking." I didn't tell him that I didn't need to look, and Bonnie had kept that secret too. I felt guilty about my earlier accusation all over again.

We ate. We chatted. I helped Bonnie with the dishes while Paul cleaned the grill. She was wearing cutoff shorts over her bikini bottoms and a Grateful Dead t-shirt over on top. I was drying the plates that Bonnie washed when she said, "I told you he wouldn't notice your legs."

"Maybe he did. Maybe he just kept it to himself."

Bonnie laughed, "You'll have to play poker with Paul one day. He can't hide anything. If he noticed he would have said something." She nudged me with her shoulder, "And he still wouldn't care."

Maybe he wouldn't but I did. I still wasn't ready to reveal my secrets. Coming out to Bonnie had been bad enough and that was only because of an errant accident that had sent my brain into a topsy-turvy tailspin that had taken a month to right. How much better would it have been if Bonnie hadn't seen my closet? Hadn't seen what I had long kept hidden? I made a noncommittal noise causing Bonnie to nudge me again.

After lunch we sat at the dining room table, sipping wine, talking and playing three-way cribbage. Paul was good, Bonnie was better. I won one game to Paul's two. Bonnie won five, skunking both of us on two consecutive games. She played cutthroat. When I missed a five-card flush, forgetting to notice the overturned cut in the crib matched my run of hearts, she was quick to take my errant point. "Brutal," I said, waving my hand as if she'd slapped it.

There was no pity in her mocking me, moving her tiny red peg, "if you don't want 'em," she scolded. "I'll take 'em."

Paul laughed, admitting he seldom won. Then he leaned over to me, talking loud enough so that Bonnie knew he wasn't hiding anything. "But when we play strip cribbage, I don't really lose."

Bonnie smiled. Paul smiled even bigger.

It was official. I liked them both.

Chapter 8

Even though Bonnie didn't work for me any longer she still showed up early that Wednesday morning with a smile on her face and a large canvas bag decorated with a yellow applique sun shining down on a purple umbrella protecting a green and white Adirondack chair, draped over her shoulder. It was the perfect bag to take to the beach. "Ready to get those casts off?"

I was more than ready. I'd grown very good at maneuvering around my life with them on my arms. I could do so many things one handed that I'd always done with two. The cast that held my elbow immobile made so many things difficult, but I had learned to adapt, moving my arms as whole instead of flexing it in the center. Simple things were made tough and I was more than ready to return to my normal life. "You have no idea."

Bonnie nodded, "Oh, I had a cast when I was a little girl."

"You did?"

"Sure. When I was a kid a group of us would ride our bikes down this long trail that ran behind our elementary school. It was a narrow asphalt trail that started about two hundred feet above the school and sloped down," she held out her hand, miming the angle of the trail, "oh, about this much," she said. I thought it had to be an exaggeration, her hand had to be sitting about fifty or fifty-five degrees. "You could get some speed racing down that thing."

"I bet."

"When it was my turn, I went, peddling as fast as my little legs would let me. I was panting with exertion. I was flying!" She smiled at the memory. Exaggerating or not, it was real to her and she was back there again, telling me the story. "I raced passed trees and shrubs. I thought I saw a little rabbit, but I was going way to fast to be sure and I wasn't about to turn around and look. I definitely wasn't going to stop.

"I stopped peddling, pulling my legs free. The pedals were flying every bit as fast as I was. I raced down the trail, getting closer and closer to my elementary school. The pink and white streamers attached to my handlebars flapped in the racing wind. I heard some chattering that I thought was cheering. The cheers turned into frantic shouting that I could barely hear. I looked up seeing my friends waving at me, well," she shrugged, "waving to me to stop. To turn. Something.

"At the bottom of the hill, right before the faculty parking lot they'd put up a chain to keep the cars out when school wasn't in session. The chain was almost invisible against the black asphalt. I came racing down the hill and went straight into that chain. The chain caught the bike, flipped me up and over the handlebars, sending me cartwheeling forward onto the hard ground and sending my bicycle flying over it a moment later, causing it to land on me. I tried to brace my fall, holding out my hands. I heard the bones break." She held up her right hand. "Three breaks in my right arm and two bones broken in my left wrist. My face hit the ground so hard that I broke my front tooth in half. I was crying and bloody and in so much pain.

"My friends helped me to my feet and carried me up that same hill to my house. I was in casts for almost two months." She opened her mouth to show me her tooth. Pointing she said, "it's an implant I had put in after I got my permanent teeth."

"Wow," I said.

"Yeah," she held up her arm and showed me a scar on her wrist. "I still have a little memento of that day." She laughed next, "they stopped putting the chain up after that. Because of me." She sounded proud and I thought maybe she was. She had affected the world around her, making it change. That had to be empowering for one so young. There had been a fondness in her voice as she told the story. Painful as it had been there was still something grandly nostalgic about it.

"That was the first time I ever went to the hospital. The way they took care of me is what got me into the medical field in the first place."

"That's some story."

She shrugged but the grin on her face and the wistful look in her eyes told me that to her it was more than a story. It was something that defined who she was. It reminded me of that Disney / Pixar movie Inside Out. In that story there were certain memories that shaped a person, defining them as to who they were. In the movie those were called core memories. That speedy trip down an asphalt hill and into an invisible chain was one of Bonnie's core memories. I had my own, of course. Trying on my mother's clothes when I was left home alone when I was a teenager was just as formative to me as that bike meeting a chain had been for Bonnie. That was one core memory. And probably the biggest.

"Shall we go?" Bonnie asked.

"Yeah," I said, holding up my casts. "I'm ready to get these things off."

"Good. And then I have a surprise."

"You do?"

She just grinned, her whole face lighting up with it. She didn't say anything else, she just spun around and left through the same door that I'd opened just a few minutes before.

I locked up the house and climbed into Bonnie's grey Nissan. She got in and soon we were on our way to my orthopedics' office. I asked Bonnie twice what the surprise was and both times he wasn't the least bit vague in telling me that she wasn't about to spoil her secretive plans. I pestered her and she laughed. I goaded her and she told me to shush. It was fun and playful and by the time we parked the car at the doctor's office I was ready for my "reward for being a good patient."

Forty minutes after arriving at the doctor's office we were leaving again. The casts had been removed and a trio of new x-ray's taken. I was given a clean bill of health and a half-dozen printed pieces of paper telling me how to exercise my limbs to help rebuild my strength. My arms looked thinner and so pale. I could see a strip across my fingers where the cast had been, a blinding stripe of skin about four shades brighter than my fingertips.

It felt good to flex my arms and bend my elbows. I kept folding my arms inward and straightening them out again as if it was something I'd never done before. Once, after going to the dentist and having my face full of Novocain, I left the dentist and was amazed at how I couldn't feel it when I bit into my lower lip. I kept chewing on my lip, amazed that I couldn't feel it and how foreign it felt to not feel anything. I ended up biting through my lip, causing blood to drip down my chin. My fresh arms were like that. Alien and odd and impossibly light, like they weren't a part of my body even though I could command them to move and they'd do as I bid. It was eerily strange.

We left the doctors and Bonnie said, "ready for the surprise?"

"Yes, please." I flashed a big, fake grin full of teeth.

Bonnie squealed, smiling even bigger. Whatever she was planning she was having fun.

She jumped on the interstate and got off two exits later. She zipped past a couple of strip malls, two McDonalds, one Popeye's fried chicken and a Chicken Salad Chick before turning into another strip of stores and shops. She parked the car in front of a building advertising Two-For-One tanning specials. Still smiling, she said, "I knew your arms would be that sickly color, so I booked us time in the tanning booths." Her smile grew even bigger. She had more up her sleeve, the grin on her face, like she was a teenager that had finally pulled one over on their parents without getting caught, told a much bigger story than what she was saying aloud.

She got out of the car and grabbed her beach bag. The anthropomorphized sun sporting eyes and a toothy grin was giving me the same look as Bonnie. It was as if the two were in cahoots and were watching their scheme unfold flawlessly.

"What are you planning?" I asked, shutting the door behind me. Even that felt better without my casts. Everything had. From putting on my seatbelt to scratching an itch on my nose. It felt good to be without my casts and Bonnie was right, my skin could use some sun even if it was artificial.

"Come on," she said avoiding the question.

We entered the shop. A tan girl, barely out of high school was standing behind an iPad set up as a register. "Welcome to Suntans. I'm Casey. Can I help you?" She asked with an effervescent bubbling to her tone. She was far to upbeat.

"Yes. Bonnie and George. We have an appointment."

Casey tapped on the iPad and nodded. "Absolutely. Let me get you two set up."

She escorted us through a beaded curtain decorated with a beachy scene. It was almost the same as the picture on Bonnie's beach bag right down to the wooden chair and the beach umbrella. We slipped through the curtain and into a hallway loaded with doors. Seashells and starfish were affixed to the walls keeping the faux beach feel. I was escorted into one room and Bonnie shown the one next to me. Twin mirrors sat on opposite sides of the wall, making the room seem far bigger than it was. Casey gave us both instructions on how to operate the large coffin-sized clamshell tanning booth. She explained the controls - the ones that set the timer and the one that set the intensity. It was fairly simple. She showed us the headphones attached to another iPad affixed to the wall. "We have thousands of songs to chose from," she said, beaming. She clearly loved her job. I pondered that. I had been in a dead-end job doing something I hated just to past the time. Is that how I would act when I finally started doing what I longed to do? I hoped so.

Casey left us alone. Bonnie checked the hallway connecting the twelve separate tanning rooms. Satisfied she turned back to me and reached into her cheery bag. "Here," she said, holding up a tangle of yellow cloth.

"What is it?" I asked knowing the answer. I had to know. I felt my heart racing and a tickle in the back of my throat.

"You'll figure it out."

"I can't wear this," I said, holding up the two-piece bikini Bonnie had filled out so well at her backyard cookout.

She didn't say anything. She just smiled, waggled her fingers, and left me alone holding the bikini she had offered me just a few days earlier. I shut the door, turning the lock to make sure I wouldn't be interrupted. I unfurled the fabric, taking it in. The bikini top was just two tiny yellow triangles joined together by four long strings about as thick as a straw. I wanted to wear it and I wanted to throw it aside like it was something poisonous almost as much.

The bikini bottoms were smaller than I thought they should be; there didn't seem to be much cloth there. I couldn't wear them. That thought was followed by one wondering how well the bikini fit. I vacillated between the two extremes. I wanted to try it on. I wanted to throw it aside.

"Fuck it."

I stripped off my clothes. The decision to try it on had been decided since I'd locked the door. I stared with the top. I tied the strings at my chest and then spun the bikini around so that the cups were in front. I grabbed the two remaining ties and looped the strings together behind my neck, knotting them in place. I adjusted the top in place, centering the tiny triangles over my nipples. Down below I felt the excitement standing proud. My arousal made putting the bottoms on harder than it needed to be. I felt a tightening in my chest as I tied the bikini bottoms in place. My erection made them look both inappropriate and out of place but standing in front of the mirror, seeing countless copies of me, erased the feeling of unease that had started to build. I loved the bikini and even though the bulging in the bottoms looked out of place and felt slightly uncomfortable, I didn't care. That bikini leapt forward to become the best bathing suit I'd ever worn. I turned sideways, regretting that I didn't have my breast forms. The bikini would look so much better. Next time.

Following Casey's commands, I set the controls. Bonnie had known I'd need to darken my arms following my time in the casts. Her ideas, both the tanning booths and the bikini, were spot. I turned the dials, punched up some Meatloaf on the iPad, donned the earbuds and the tiny protective eyewear and jumped into the clamshell booth. The top of the booth came down on its own, stopping about six inches above my chest. Light blue light filled the room. I shut my eyes, listened to Meatloaf croon about Paradise by the Dashboard Light, and fell asleep.

I awoke to Taylor Swift singing about some teardrops on a guitar. How many songs I missed I couldn't say. I rolled to my side and checked the timer. I'd slept for nearly half an hour. I still had another ten minutes of tanning. I shut my eyes again. Taylor Swift gave way to Queen who yielded their song, telling me how they were going to rock me, to James Taylor singing about fire and rain.

The clamshell lid rose silently when my allotted time was up. I removed the earbuds and sat up. My skin was warm and tingling. I stood up, smiling at my reflection in the mirror. My erection had waned, giving the front of the biking a more natural look. I reached into the bottoms and tucked myself between my legs, trapping that needy part of myself between my own thighs. I stood up, holding my legs together, my penis held in place by my legs. The look was even better. Almost natural. I turned sideways, looking at my ass in the multiple reflections. The bikini bottoms, already small on Bonnie was even tinier on me. I tugged at the fabric, smoothing the bottoms in place. I nodded, agreeing with myself that I had a new favorite bathing suit. It would be hard to return it to Bonnie, but I knew I'd be ordering one as soon as I got home.

A knock on my locked door startled me. "Almost done?" Casey asked.

"Just getting dressed."

"Okay."

I took off the top and stared at my reflection. It was slight but it was there. I stepped closer to the mirror. Yes, it was minor but visible, like the last bit of fading light at the end of a beautiful summer day. I could just see the tiny triangle of paler skin around my nipples where the tangle of yellow cloth had covered my body. Tan lines. So very faint but so very intoxicating. I could barely see that my skin was darker where the bikini hadn't been, and that discoloration left me feeling lightheaded. I felt a rising down below as I stared in the mirror and witnessed the front of my bikini bottoms bulging outward. My tan lines were exciting.

I stripped off the rest of my clothes and got dressed again. I heard movement in the booth next to me and called out, "just about," when Bonnie asked if I was ready to go.

I opened the door to my booth and handed Bonnie her bikini, hating to let it go.

"Did you?" She asked, putting the bikini in her beach bag.

I wasn't sure if my voice would crack so I simply nodded.

"You can keep it," she said. "I've made us both appointments for the next two weeks. Every three days."