The Trade Show Pt. 06

Part 6 - A change of circumstances

Catch up: I'm so sorry for the delay in adding to my story. If you recall, I had my first sleepover with Cindy and twice she had asked me to work for her as our relationship developed. Georgia xx

I rushed home and changed, arriving just a few minutes late for my first appointment. I hate rushing for things like this and am sure that it is just a matter of time before I forget to remove my earrings or bangles for a meeting. Or show up with gorgeous glossy lips. Wow, just that thought makes me blush.

Later that week, it became very clear that I was attracted to Cindy in a way that was new to me. I kept asking myself if this was love, but that word scares me so that I am not sure if I would recognise it if it slapped me in the face.

My whole life had been driven by my secret-keeping life as an inter-sexed person. Even now I am not really sure how I should describe myself; how bad, or sad, is that?

Although I am never more comfortable in myself as when I am Georgia, being in the presence of others, at any level, is always stressful and I put it down to a lack of acceptance of cross-dressers, trannies and transgendered people in general by the vast majority of the general public.

The result of this situation is what drives almost every serious inter-sexed person I have met to strive to "pass" so that any possible confrontation is avoided.

Over a number of difficult days, I eventually decided that I should end the relationship I have with Jenny, my present partner. It seemed only fair as I knew with some certainty that she could never accept this part of me. It was the hardest conversation I had ever had and something I vowed never to have to repeat. Keeping secrets from the one closest to you cannot ever lead to good things.

Over the next few days I locked myself away and cut off all communication with everyone, including Cindy. Looking back, I think I was, in some way, saying goodbye to part of myself, as well as to my partner.

Eventually I called Cindy and explained why I had been hard to reach. It was a long and tearful conversation during which I fully exposed my fragility and inner fears. Cindy cried too and we agreed to meet again the following weekend.

Her words from our previous meeting "You should definitely come and work for me," "I could really use someone with your business head," rang around my head as I considered if that offer might still be open, and what the possible consequences of accepting it might be.

It would mean going to work as Georgia, in an office environment with other people, and the thought scared me as I knew that my gender would not remain a secret for long, and office gossip can be a destructive influence both on the individuals involved, and on the business itself. This thought simply added to my stress.

If things fell apart at work, how would this affect my relationship with Cindy?

Whilst it had been easy for me to fall for her, I kept reminding myself that this couldn't last forever. I convinced myself that things this good just don't happen to people like Georgia. Often, I had suggested that she would become bored with me, and she always quickly rebuked me.

Friday morning, I woke up feeling that a new life had started. I put on my matching red bra and knickers topped off with some black tights. I tucked but didn't bother to tape. I found a tartan mini and a black roll neck sweater, slipped on some flats and added light makeup and my wig. For the first time ever, I pinned my hair up and was shocked how it changed my appearance. I looked like a normal girl about house, I thought!

Now single, and having decided I was to remain that way for a while, I was able to unpack all of my clothes, accessories and makeup and rearranged my wardrobes and bathroom. I spent three days washing and ironing and three visits to the dry cleaner with my most treasured dresses and skirt suits. It was a revelation, not having to hide my stuff in a series of holdalls and boxes. I took the opportunity of discarding a lot of underwear, tee shirts and skirts that I hadn't worn for a long time. When I had finished, I was staggered by how much stuff Georgia had. It seemed I had hundreds of pairs of tights, knee-highs, hold-ups and stockings! Alone, they filled a whole large drawer. I also had 9 pairs of shoes. Despite this, I was determined that I also need to go shopping again! My male clothes were now confined to a cupboard with one hanging rail and a large chest of drawers in the spare room.

Sitting on the edge of the bed I realised that whilst life was going to be very different for Georgia, she still had aspects of her life that demanded a male persona, and that thought brought tears. I needed to be brave for my next life and I kept repeating this as a mantra.

That afternoon was spent shopping for new shoes and, yes, more stockings and hold-ups. I also bought three new perfumes to try, all very floral and feminine I thought, and some new makeup to replace the very old stuff I had thrown away. For the first time ever, I asked a really gorgeous woman at a makeup counter for help in selecting the right shade of foundation. In the past I had always guessed and often ended up with something that was just not quite right. She could not have been more helpful and after giving me a complete makeover, complimented me on my look. Never once did she make any remark on me being male, although it was obvious that I was, not having made much of an effort that morning.

I returned with a car boot full of bags and having made a fresh coffee spend a few hours unpacking, removing tags and trying on my new additions. I also experimented wearing different combinations of clothes, trying to develop new outfits and new looks for me.

Georgia was ready for a fresh start and went to bed contented and happy that night, wearing a nighty in bed at home for the first time ever.

Saturday morning arrived and I was up early to prepare for my trip over to see Cindy. As I was laying stuff out on the bed, Cindy called.

"Hello Gorgeous," she said, "I wondered if I could come over to yours today. I'd love to see your place and it's on the way to somewhere I wanted to take you. Oh, and we haven't fucked in your bed yet!"

I laughed but was caught by surprise again. It seemed this was part of Cindy's modus operandi!

"Oh," I said, without really thinking it through. "I really haven't tidied up and ...".

As I struggled pathetically to find an excuse, but without knowing whilst I even needed one, Cindy interrupted.

"I know you'll want to tidy up and possibly even redecorate before I come, and hide all your porn before I come around," she giggled, "And I know it isn't what you planned. And I know you like to think everything through first, and this is unexpected, but I think it would be really special to see you at home. At your home."

Even though we had not been together for very long, Cindy knew me. She knew me very well in fact, and I wondered if she knew Georgia better than I did.

I paused for one second only before agreeing. She was right. I had nothing to hide anymore, least not from her, and it was now Georgia's home.

Having put away the clothes from the bed I frantically tidied up, although the house was already very clean as my partner had been fastidious, but it reminded me that I needed to find a cleaner.

I did my face, let my hair down, flushed, tucked and changed in anticipation of her visit. I brushed out my hair and pinned it back at the sides with simple clips. I had never played with styling my hair previously but after putting my hair up earlier I decided it was time to be more adventurous, if two hair clips qualifies as being adventurous!

Cindy pulled into the drive and as I watched her from my window I wondered what she was thinking as she took in the house as she emerged from her car. It was very different to her own.

Cindy wore tight skinny jeans with very expensive looking sandals with, I guessed, 4" heels. She topped this off with an off the shoulder silky cream top with ¾ sleeves. She had only her handbag as she walked toward the door.

I opened it as she arrived and with just a beaming smile she ran in and embraced my like a long lost parent would have.

"How are you Georgia? I have missed you so much and couldn't wait to see you again. I'm so sorry about you splitting up from your partner and it's all my fault. Are you OK?"

Before I spoke, I kissed her and my heart rate lifted by 50 beats or more. Her kiss was like nothing else I had every experienced. She was very special.

"I'm fine," I said. "Really, I am fine."

"Fine?" she asked. "Fine, means not fine at all, in my experience." She said, and looked into my soul with her amazing eyes.

"No, I am good," I said, "I am really good, let me show you." And I took her hand and led her up the stairs to my bedroom. I showed her how Georgia had now moved in, and her male counterpart had been side-lined to the spare room.

In the following half hour I showed Cindy around my rather normal house and she quickly became aware that I was apologising that compared to hers, it was rather small, and ordinary.

"Right," she said, sitting me down on the sofa next to her and placing one hand on my cheek, as if to draw my attention, "This is a lovely house, really lovely, and I can see parts of you all over it. Obviously, I can also see parts of Jenny too and whilst this might be hard for you, sometimes, eventually you will come to get used to it, or change it. My view is that Georgia will take over and either turn this house into something completely different, or move out."

She went on, "Don't compare it to my house. That's mine and it reflects me, and my likes and dislikes, and my situation. You don't need to feel awkward or stressed about your house because of me. If you'd prefer to come to mine, that's OK, really."

As usual, Cindy was right. It was not important, given the other issues in my life.

.

Cindy leant toward me and with one hand behind my neck, pulled me toward her for a kiss. 10 minutes later we were in bed. She had simply stood up and undressed to her underwear and led me to the bedroom.

"We need to christen this bed." she said with a smile, pushing me back onto it before removing my shoes and skirt. Climbing on top of me she lifted my sweater over my head, being extra careful to not disturb my wig, and immediately set about my nipples with her tongue and fingers. After a minute or so she lifted her head.

"I love the way you've done your hair." She said, and continued to raise my heart rate with ease.

After another few minutes she said, "Maybe I can help teach you some tricks on how to really show your hair off?"

"This sums up Cindy," I thought. "She knows me and seems to be inside my head."

As I became more aroused I moved over on top of her and kissed her deeply, my tongue finding hers and both kissed around the edges of our mouths. I slid down the bed as I squeezed her nipples and licked her through her flimsy knickers, making her moan in appreciation.

Slipping her knickers down her legs I spread her wide and settled in, determined to make her cum. As I slipped two fingers inside her to find her G spot, I caressed around her lips and licked her labia and it was only a few minutes before she screamed and bucked as she came.

For the first time since I had been with her, her scream was accompanied by her squirting, almost to the bottom of the bed and soaking my hand and arm.

I grinned like a cat that had been given the whole tin of cream and watched in admiration as she slowly regained her composure and opened her eyes. She was flushed red all over, and I was conspicuously delighted.

"OK?" I asked, still grinning. "I didn't know you were a squirter."

Cindy smiled. A sultry, sexy, "I've just been fucked" contented sort of smile.

"I'm not!" she replied, "Or rather, I wasn't."

"That was my first time. I can't believe it. That was the first time, really."

Cindy was genuinely surprised and shocked.

"You never fail to surprise me Ms Georgia. And it is always such a great surprise. You really are very special. What on Earth am I going to do with you?"

As I was about to respond with a suitably flippant remark, Cindy, still panting, went on and said "My darling Georgia, I know this is a hard time for you, and you are still in recovery from saying goodbye to Jenny, and you have so many questions about your sexuality, and I know we have talked about you working for me and so many other issues that affect your life, and I really honestly don't want to add to all of that, and perhaps immediately after the best orgasm I have ever had may not be the best time to say these sorts of things."

Cindy paused and whilst I drew pleasure from her remark about being the best orgasm she had ever had, I also feared what she may say next. I always knew this wouldn't last.

"But," she went on, "I think I love you."

"No, I really love you, and I wonder, and you don't have to say anything at all if you want to think about it, I wonder if maybe you love me too, just a bit?"

As I took in the magnitude of what Cindy had just said, my first reaction was that it simply was not possible. I knew how I felt about her, and I purposely avoided any thought of using the word love. Love equals hurt and disappointment, when trans.

Her eyes were squarely on mine and I could feel her love through them. We always had a connection, even during our first meeting in Wadebridge when she rested her hand on my suspender strap through my trousers. Her eyes peered directly to my soul, and although I didn't realise it then, I was hers if she wanted me.

"Cindy, I am in shock. I'm overwhelmed. That you would consider me, or even find it possible to love someone like me is hard to believe. I really don't know what to say."

Cindy smiled and said in her most seductive voice, "Just tell me that you love me too."

So I did, and we remained in the bedroom until hunger and rumbling stomachs drove us to the shower.

As we dried each other off, both unable to stop smiling, I felt different, but without being able to pin it down. In hindsight, I was suddenly content. My life had become clearer to me, and I felt more able to face up to anything that anyone could throw at me.

Cindy chose what clothes I would wear and having rummaged through my complete wardrobe decided she would take me on a "serious shopping trip" sometime very soon. She had already identified some of my clothes which she said were perfect for the charity shop! I wore my skinny jeans too, some wedge sandals and a fluffy pink jumper with loose neck. She chose my jewellery too and, looking in the mirror, I realise what good style and taste was.

She tried to style my hair but it was having none of it. "You need a new wig, or two." she said, mentally adding it to her virtual shopping list.

Picking a suitable clutch bag, we headed out to lunch in her car, although not to her original planned venue. Without telling me what that was, she said that it would wait for another day.