Date: Tue, 1 Feb 2000 21:26:30 EST
From: Ronnie Rho <ronnierho@hotmail.com>
Subject: Past Friends, Future Lovers

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.