Past Friends, Future Lovers, by Ronnie Rho ronnierho@hotmail.com
College, to say the least, was wonderful.
Roger was able to get away from the small town in which he grew up, and see a little more of the world. Granted, the college was only about 4,000 students, but it was still 10 times the size of his hometown. The school offered him a chance to taste the world without too many shocks. While there, Roger met people from different religions, with different skin colors, and different backgrounds.
At home, everything was so...the same. Everyone was of German decent; everyone went to the same church, and voted Republican. Everyone made the money from agriculture. Roger knew there was nothing wrong with that, but he also knew that if he didn't see the world on his own terms, at least for a while, he'd go mad.
At college, he met Linda. She was a junior while he was freshman. She was a theater major, while he studied English. Their classes and friends overlapped, and one night he came home to find her in his bed. They settled in, just to sleep, but soon found themselves naked and intertwined. He proved to be a clumsy but enthusiastic lover. Linda was the patient teacher.
Their affair continued throughout second semester, until she revealed her secret. She had a crush on a teacher: a female teacher. This was certainly new for Roger. His girlfriend, (although she hated that term), was bisexual. This bothered him for a week, and during that time, Linda kept her distance.
Roger took long walks through the town late at night, often sleeping through classes the next day. Somewhere in the 147th mile, he came to the conclusion that her bisexuality was okay. That was the sort of thing he came to college to learn about. It was just something different, like music taste. In the 148th mile of his walk, Roger decided he liked the idea of Linda sleeping with a woman, even if he couldn't watch.
Soon after that, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to have sex with more than one woman. That thought turned him on so much, he ran the rest of the way to Linda's off-campus apartment, where he woke her up, expecting to make wild, passionate whoopee. Linda wasn't nearly as horny. Just pissed off. Roger spent the night on her couch, where he was able to masterbate to visions of Linda, with various women he knew.
The next night, Roger and Linda had a talk. She explained to him that she had always felt an attraction to other women, but didn't feel it was something to be used to turn him on. She said she was happy he was comfortable with it, but thought his insistence that they find a third for fun was tacky. She said that would be turning all of them into objects. Linda asked him to think how he would feel if she insisted he sleep with a man.
This was a troubling prospect indeed. Roger spent the rest of the night walking again. He tried fantasizing about sex with another man. He thought about his roommate, his best friend, various teachers, and the clerk at the 7-11. Nothing worked. Nothing worked until he decided he'd rather watch one of the art professors screw Linda. That turned him on. From there he envisioned Linda sleeping with the teacher and another woman. Roger wanted so badly to be in that picture, and soon realized he was starting to see things from Linda's point of view, both figuratively and literally. He knew what she meant about becoming an object. He also wondered what sex was like for her. What was it like for her when they fucked? He wondered what it was like to be a woman making love to a man, to another woman, for that matter.
The next week found Roger spending every waking moment fantasizing or masterbating, or both. He couldn't get enough of the idea of having breasts, having a pussy. He dreamed about having excitable nipples, having a penis entering him, about tasting another woman.
He went back to Linda and explained his thoughts. She said she was proud of him for taking such a leap and being willing to explore that which others considered taboo. But, she was no longer interested in him, and would no longer require his services.
The rejection wasn't so difficult to take. Roger didn't love Linda, and Linda didn't love him. They were just using each other for sex, and nothing else. That's what he told himself, and that's what he believed.
Roger and Linda were able to remain friends, maintaining that strange interaction that former lovers sometimes do. She eventually graduated, he stayed in school, and continued to learn. His question of being the female in a sexual relationship grew and grew. For Halloween, he convinced another female friend to help him into a drag costume. During the night, he walked on clouds, oblivious to the raised eyebrows and curious whispers among his friends. As he fell asleep that night, still wearing the wig, heels and Goodwill evening gown, his last thought was, "I've found what I've been looking for."
It wasn't until after his college career was over that he dove into that side of his personality. He moved to another, larger city, got an anonymous job that paid the bills, and kept learning. Roger would visit the department stores on his lunch break, and buy himself all manner of female clothing. Foundation garments, bras, panties, lingerie, stockings, dresses, pantsuits, shoes, purses, and jewelry. He grew his hair as long as he could without attracting attention at work. He shaved his legs, arms and chest, and practiced applying makeup.
Roger spent evenings at the library, reading what little they had on transgenderism. When that was exhausted, he turned to the Internet, staying late at work to use the connection there. He was surprised to find thousands of homepages and websites devoted to people changing their gender, both temporarily and permanently. From one site, Roger learned a support group met in his city. He contacted them, and started to attend meetings.
The meetings and discussions led him to believe he was transsexual, and he sought the advice of a counselor. The counselor, after 5 sessions, agreed with him, but explained what a lengthy, expensive and difficult process transitioning was. Roger, who in sessions and at meetings was going by Rogene, realized it was an uphill battle, but one that was worth fighting.
He, or she, as Rogene preferred to refer to herself, started with the pictures. As many crossdressers do, Rogene became fascinated with the photographic image of herself. She soon decided to share that image with the rest of the world, and come slowly out of the closet. Rogene decided to design and construct a webpage.
While at work in the evenings, Rogene, or Roger, as he appeared to the rest of the world, built the webpage. Once it was up and running, he would tinker with it, adding a picture here, changing words there, joining webrings, logging on to chatrooms, and posting on bulletin board.
Through the chats, Rogene met Robert. Robert was a married white male in his 50's, who secretly had a thing for those 'girls with something extra'. They clicked, and made plans to keep meeting at the same time each evening.
Robert was on his second wife, who he loathed and who loathed him. It was a marriage based on sex, he said, and was the wrong thing to do. He was charming and Rogene was swayed. Their conversations in the chats were not sexual, as some break down to, but were talks about everyday occurrences. They talked about how the day went, and what they thought about the President's recent problems. Soon, they swapped phone numbers and talked again for hours.
Robert announced he had to fly to Chicago for a meeting and would love to meet Rogene. She thought it would be a wonderful time, and since he had offered to pay for it all, agreed. They both flew to Chicago where he booked two adjoining hotel rooms. Once the business was over, they spent their time in a gay lounge on the North Side, where they knew they wouldn't be disturbed. While Rogene was attractive, she didn't quite pass in public. The second room wasn't needed as they spent Friday and Saturday nights in the same bed. They didn't have sex, but came damn close. It wasn't until Sunday morning that Rogene realized she was in love. No words were spoken, but Robert felt it too. He promised her big changes once he got back home to Sacremento.
A week later, Rogene receieved a call from Robert. He had filed for divorce and begged her to fly west to live with him. Rogene said she'd think about it, and went out to have her ears pierced. She told her therapist who said if she decided for sexual-reassignment surgery, she would receive his recommendations. He wrote her a prescription for estrogen and hugged her as she left.
Within three days, Rogene had quit her job, sent her furnishings to Goodwill and packed her clothing. She moved in with Robert in his mansion outside of the California capital. They lived together, holding each other tightly at night. Robert's ex-wives and their children complained, but he ignored them. He had enough money as the head of a software company that he could do as he pleased, without having to worry about what family thought.
Talking about it, Rogene and Robert agreed that she should have the surgery, and then they would get married. They still hadn't technically had sex. They made love, but he never entered her, as a man would a woman or another man. The tiny bit of Rogene's psyche that was still Roger objected to that. But she did dream about being able to satisfy her lover as a woman would.
The time came, the surgery was done, and Rogene was official. Robert's attorneys took care of the legal aspects, and his money made sure the job was done right, beginning to end.
Rogene was given the full treatment; electrolysis on the face, neck, chest, stomach, and hands. She received a little liposuction to take away the boy belly, and had a little shaved off the nose and chin to make her more feminine appearing. Next came the implants, and the genital reconstruction. Her testicles were removed, her penis refashioned into a clitoris.
When she awoke, groggy from the surgery, the first face she saw was that of Robert, standing by her hospital bed, clutching her hand, his face filled with anticipation, anxiety, and love. The doctor had explained that she would be good for nothing for the next two months as her body adapted to all the changes thrown upon it.
Robert was an angel. He spent that first month, asking nothing of her, and waiting upon her every need, hand and foot. She hardly left their California King-sized bed, except to pee and gawk at her new body in the full-length mirror he installed in the bathroom. She was partially satisfied, knowing she wouldn't be completely happy until she could thank her benefactor; her lover. Rogene wanted to, but knew that everytime she tried to touch any part of her body, it hurt. The doctor explained she would be sore for a while.
Rogene kept herself happy by imagining what positions with which she would fuck Robert's brains out. In her drug-induced stupor, she thought about laying on her back and receiving him as she wrapped her legs around him. She thought about doing it doggy style, about riding him like a bronco, standing face to face, standing from behind. Rogene thought about screwing him in the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen table, in on the billards table, in the hot tub. She couldn't wait to show her love for this man and thank him physically.
About a month into her recovery, Robert suffered a massive heart attack at work. It was after hours, and no-one was around to help. Doctors said if only he had been able to call for help they might have been able to save him.
Rogene was coming out of the trough of pain when she learned of Robert's death. His ex-wives came by to tell her she wasn't welcome to attend his funeral. She cried for a week. His attorneys stopped by to offer their consolations, and to tell her she was the sole executor of the will. They also informed her the bitches would be contesting it in court, claiming his was not of sound mind when he wrote them out of the estate.
To ease the pain and the loneliness of the bastard leaving her so suddenly, Rogene turned back to the Internet. She checked her e-mail, which she had not done since moving in with Robert.
There, to her shock, was a note from Linda. Linda was out of the closet as a full-fledged lesbian in Colorado Springs and was surfing the 'Net one night with a drag queen friend when they stumbled upon Rogene's webpage. Linda said she hoped Roger was doing well, and thought he looked good dressed as a woman.
Rogene replied immediately, explaining in a 10K message all that had happened in the last 3 months. The next day, there was a reply from Linda, who sent her best and admitted she cried when she halfway through.
Rogene sent Linda an invitation, and plane fare, knowing she'd need help to get through the coming weeks. Her recovery wasn't complete, and soon had to face court proceedings. She wondered if she would be strong enough to fight for Robert's wishes.
Linda flew up and helped with the healing process. She taught Rogene that it was okay to cry as often as she did, and how to bathe herself without hurting any of the delicate parts. Linda drove Rogene to the doctor for checkups, did the laundry and cooked for her.
One night, shortly before the hearing over the custody of the estate, just after the doctor pronounced Rogene fit and ready to begin life as a full-fledged woman, Linda and Rogene were sitting in the hot tub as they often did. Linda sat the edge behind Rogene, giving her neck and shoulders a rub. Rogene realized how special Linda had been, stood up and turned around. She meant to lean down and kiss her friend on the forehead before heading off to bed. But Linda misinterpretted the gesture and lifted her head to face Rogene. Their lips met. Their lips met and didn't depart. Their lips did part though, and the friendship kiss became something more.
Linda led Rogene to the master bedroom and the teacher took back her role. She fulfilled Rogene's early dreams of what it would be like to be a woman on the receiving end of another woman's attentions. Linda showed Rogene how sensitive the clitoris was and how to take a lover up and down before leading them to an orgasm. With that treatment, Rogene came to the conclusion of her education.
As a man, she had clumsily tried to satisfy women. Now as a woman, she had a ring-side perspective in just how to do it, using the lips, tongue, and fingers. Rogene knew this is where she was meant to be, all along. She knew she had no use for a man, just this wonderful girl lover. She tried to think about Robert, but couldn't quite focus as Linda performed her magic. Rogene knew she could have been happy with him, but knew that since he was gone, she couldn't think about another man. He would remain in her memory as the only man she ever wanted.
At the estate settlement, Rogene and her attorneys offered a deal. She and Linda would keep the house and the grounds, which were all paid for, but would give up any claims on the rest of Robert's estimated $10.2 million dollar estate. That included investments, the business and other cash deposits.
After time, Rogene and Linda sold the house and land for a cool $3.3 million dollars and retired to an island in the Carribbean where they live sparsely, but happily. They collect the interest off of that sale, and live without many difficulties.