Warning - The following story contains descriptions of explicit sex.  If you are not an adult or reading descriptions sex stories upset you, do not read any further.

HAIL TO THE CHIEF	
Chapter 1 - The Awaking	
Chapter 2 - The Invite	
Chapter 3 - The First Month	
Chapter 4 - Almost Healed	
Chapter 5 - Presidential Erections	
Chapter 6 - Honest Abe	
Chapter 7 - One Year later	


Hail to the Chief by Waldo

Chapter 1 - The Awaking

The six police motorcycles roared down the busy 
lunchtime Pennsylvania Avenue with their blue lights 
flashing as they eased traffic off of the busy main 
thoroughfare of Washington DC.  One motorcycle pulled 
in front of traffic getting ready to go north on 14th Street 
and another one blocked the traffic going south.  The 
other four police motorcycles cruised down 
Pennsylvania and headed to their planned streets to 
block the street for the Presidential motorcade that was 
due to pass down the avenue any minute.  The 
policeman blocking the southbound traffic, made sure 
that the lead car in his target lane wasn't going 
anywhere and then turned his attention to the 
pedestrians on his side of the street.  With a quick hand 
signal and a tweet of his whistle, he stopped some 
tourists getting ready to cross the street.  Then the 
policemen looked around to see if he saw anyone else 
getting ready to enter the zone that he was suppose to 
secure.

He adjusted his goggles taking a moment to look at 
himself in the mirror.  His white skin was tanned from 
the constant exposure to sun on the DC police 
motorcycle squad.  He squinted as he looked at the 
longer than police regulations strand of brown hair 
hanging down his forehead.  Then he smiled as he 
remember that most men that were his age of 47, were 
not as youthful looking or still had as much hair.  He 
frowned at the sidewalk tourist snapping pictures of him 
and as he scanned his security area, decided that there 
was nothing that required his immediate attention or 
assistance.  He thumbed his talk button and said into 
his microphone "Swordfish 12 in position.  Area secure."

Somewhere in the nation's capitol, someone noted his 
announcement and acknowledged receipt.  The 
policeman looked down Pennsylvania Avenue in the 
direction that the motorcade would be coming from and 
saw that the normally busy avenue was almost clear of 
civilian cars now, thanks to the other motorcycle 
policemen blocking the other streets.  He listened to his 
police radio and determined that the motorcade was 
only about two minutes from his location.  Suddenly 
from the corner of his eye, he saw someone step out on 
the Avenue. 

He turned and saw a family of tourist crossing the 
Avenue.  "Stop.  Go back on the corner until I tell you, 
that you can cross." he said into his microphone, using 
the bullhorn feature to broadcast to the tourists.

They stopped where they were and looked at him.  
Under his breath, he muttered "Damn tourists.  You will 
get us both killed."

The family slowly turned and started walking back to 
the curb; just as another police motorcycle pulled up 
beside him.  The first cop glanced and saw that it was 
the Sergeant responsible for the detail.  The Sergeant 
looked at the tourists taking their time getting back to 
the curb and quietly said "Don't shoot another one of 
those assholes because they are stupid, Jimmy.  I want 
to get off work on time today and don't want to spend 
the rest of the afternoon filling out damn forms.  How 
about a beer after work?"

Jimmy looked at his sergeant.  The black sergeant was 
in good physical shape, was ten years younger than 
Jimmy and had been a rookie that he had personally 
trained back when he had been a sergeant.  Back before 
he got busted.

Jimmy looked at him.  Sergeant Dan Greenwood.  A real 
good cop.  And one of the few men on the force that he 
still called friend.  Then he said "Gotta go home and let 
the cat out."

"Fuck the cat.  Knowing you, you probably don't even 
have a cat.  You have turned down every thing that I 
have suggested for the last seven months to get you out 
of your damn apartment.  You have to get out of your 
house and start living your life over again.  When Judy 
moved out on you, she took more than the furniture.  
She took your balls with her too." exclaimed the 
sergeant, looking around to see if the motorcade had 
turned the corner yet.

Jimmy shook his head and said "Thanks, buddy.  
Maybe next time." as he saw the lead motorcade  police 
motorcycle turn the curve several blocks away.  The 
sergeant saw it too, slowly looked at Jimmy and then 
pulled out to proceed ahead of the motorcade.

Jimmy looked around at the tourists that were lining 
the sidewalk.  He had seen the presidential motorcade 
pass too many times to watch it now.  He quickly 
scanned the crowd to see if he saw anything that looked 
out of place or anyone that looked like they were getting 
ready to do something stupid.

The motorcade passed behind Jimmy and when the last 
vehicle was by, Jimmy put his motorcycle into gear and 
speeded up, so that he could pass the motorcade and 
position himself at his next checkpoint.

*****

The banging on the door woke him up.  He grabbed his 
pistol from the bedstand by reflex and then looked at 
the clock.  It was 2:30 am.  Who the fuck is knocking on 
his door at this god-awful hour?

Jimmy stood and listened to the continual knocking on 
the door.  It was clearly his door that was being knocked 
on and not his neighbor's.  He walked into his small 
living room without turning on the light and looked 
through the peep hole.  He muttered the shit word 
under his breath when he recognized who was outside 
his door.  It was Harvey Case.  Lieutenant Harvey Case.  
The man that replaced him on the Secret Service detail.  
His former best friend, fishing buddy and bar hopping 
buddy.  It had been two years since Harve had been 
here and over six months since they had even spoke to 
each other.

The knocking continued and Jimmy said "Who is it?" 
even though he knew.

The knocking stopped and the muffled voice on the 
other side of the door said "It's me.  Harve.  Let me in, 
Jimmy.  Have to talk to you."

Jimmy slowly unfastened the chain and door lock.  Then 
he opened the door and sat down in his TV chair, 
lighting a Camel as Harve walked into the room and 
turned on a light.  Harve didn't sit down, but just looked 
at his former friend.

Then Harve said "I have orders to take you out to 
Newington.  Priority Presidential One.  No refusal.  I 
have a police escort to get you out there ASAP.  You are 
to come as you are.  No uniform.  They sent me because 
I was on duty and knew where to find you."

"What's going on?"

"Don't know.  I got the call twenty minutes ago and 
rushed over here while our police escort just got here.  
Get ready."

Jimmy looked at him and took a slow draw of his 
cigarette, knowing that Harve hated smokers.  He is one 
of those former smokers that quit and have to remind 
someone everyday how long it has been since he quit.  
Then Jimmy stood and said "let me grab some jeans."

Harve nodded and Jimmy went into the bedroom, 
returning within a minute wearing blue jeans with his 
pistol belt, cowboy boots, and a rugby shirt.  He grabbed 
his house keys and billfold from the counter.  He 
followed Harve out the door, pausing only long enough 
to lock his deadbolt.  He hadn't been a cop here in DC 
for over twenty years, without learning to secure 
everything.

*******

The ride to Newington had been quick.  It was a growing 
suburb just outside the capitol beltway, with a major 
express lane all the way from downtown DC.  The police 
car turned on the siren and lights and drove at speeds 
exceeding one hundred miles per hour most of the way 
out to the beltway.  Just before entering the area where 
they were headed, the police car slowed down and 
turned off it's attention gathering siren and lights.  They 
did not want to attract attention to this non-descript 
building that housed some of the Secret Service staff.  
Everyone working in this building had a cover story for 
curious people.

During the ride, Harve and Jimmy didn't say anything.  
Harve acted as if he was concentrating on his driving 
and Jimmy just ignored him.  This used to be his best 
friend.  

The man that was a key witness against him at his 
hearing and the man that was selected to replace Jimmy 
on the Secret Service team that he used to head.  Jimmy 
had been guarding the President and let a tourist piss 
him off.  He punched the tourist, just as a camera crew 
covering the President focused on him.  The film didn't 
show the tourist taunting Jimmy, only that Jimmy 
broke someone's nose with his fist, in the presence of 
the Press and the President.  Even with Jimmy's 
exemplary record, there had to be a hearing and a 
punishment.  Harve had to report what he had seen, 
which was exactly what was on the video that had been 
shown nightly and several times on the TV show 
Current Affairs.  Jimmy had been demoted and 
transferred, so that he could finish his retirement which 
was now only two years away.  Jimmy wasn't mad at 
Harve for telling the truth, but for getting drunk and 
telling someone in a bar that he deserved whatever he 
got.  He told it to a reporter who made sure it made the 
news and as a result of the extra unwanted publicity, 
destroyed their friendship.

Harve pulled into the garage and parked the car.  They 
entered the elevator and Harve punched the codes to 
start the elevator.  Jimmy had never been here because 
the service was just obtaining the building when he had 
been transferred from the service.

The door opened on a lobby and a uniformed policeman 
sitting behind a bullet-proof glass window watched as 
Harve turned over his gun and showed his id.  The 
policeman had watched them on a bank of monitors 
ever since they turned the corner onto the street and he 
was expecting them.  He didn't know what was going on, 
but he knew to admit this pair and send them up to the 
restricted floor.

After they signed in and were given temporary badges to 
open the authorized doors and use the private elevator, 
the policeman let them enter the locked area.  They used 
their temporary badge to open the elevator.  When the 
elevator stopped three floors up, another Secret Service 
agent was waiting on them.  Jimmy knew most of the 
DC agents but this was a new man.  Must be from the 
field.

The agent said "Thank you, Lieutenant for bringing Mr. 
Carlson out here on such short notice.  We will take him 
from here."

Harve looked at Jimmy as if to say "Wish I could go with 
you on whatever this is.  Good luck" and pressed the 
down button on the elevator.  The agent waited until the 
door shut and then pressed a button on the door so that 
no one could enter the area while he was absent from 
his position.  Jimmy was a little impressed with the 
security, which was the same level that they put on the 
President.  And more than a little curious as to what 
was going on.  But twenty-seven years being a 
policeman and secret service agent had taught him that 
he would be told what he needed to know and only 
when he needed to know it.

The agent walked down the hall and opened a door, 
motioning Jimmy to enter the room.  As Jimmy entered, 
the door shut behind him.  In the conference type room, 
seven people who had been talking, shut up and stared 
at him as he entered the room.  Jimmy knew none of 
them.

One of the people sitting down, stood and held out his 
hand as he said "Roy Faircloth.  Sorry to get you down 
here at this hour and on such short notice, but we have 
a major problem on our hands."

Jimmy looked at him and said "My department 
clearance has been revoked and I only have the 
standard police clearance now."

"Not a problem.  We just need to have a quick little talk 
with you.  Pull up a seat and sit down.  Joan, how about 
getting Jimmy a big cup of fresh coffee.  We got a lot to 
talk about."  The only woman in the room dropped the 
pen that she had been writing with, on the table.  She 
looked at Roy with a slight frown on her face, then stood 
up, walked over to a coffee pot and poured a cup.  
Jimmy sat down in the chair offered him and leaned 
back.  No one said anything while the woman was 
pouring the coffee.  Jimmy looked at the other people 
and noticed that all chairs were facing him and he was 
being sized up by the group.  For some sixth sense 
reason, Jimmy knew that none of them were agents and 
that they were probably medical professionals or 
consultants.  As the woman brought the coffee over, 
Jimmy thought that she might be the one secret service 
agent in the group.  

As she handed the hot steaming cup to him, Jimmy 
looked up at her.  He didn't know her either, but she 
was rather attractive.  She was clearly of mixed race.  
Her features were dark but not enough so that she 
would be called black.  At the same time, her dark curly 
hair would not let her be called white either.  She 
handed him the coffee and sat back down, pulling her 
skirt so that only a glimpse of the upper thighs was 
revealed to Jimmy.

Roy pulled a big folder in front of him and said "We have 
been studying you and are very familiar with your 
personal and government history.  You first came to our 
little project's attention about seven months ago and we 
requested more information on you, to include a very 
through physical and mental exam through your 
department medical department.  The results are in 
here."

Jimmy took a sip of his coffee and tensed.  He didn't like 
being brought here in the middle of the night and didn't 
like the way this was starting out.  Roy opened the 
folder and said "You passed your medical and mental 
examinations with flying colors and we put you into 
what we consider to be a very select group of current 
and former agents.  We had some further tests on 
everyone in the group that we wanted to do, but 
unfortunately events that occurred earlier this evening 
forced us to adjust our schedule.  For the last three 
hours, the seven of us have been going over the possible 
candidates and you are the almost unanimous choice 
for this project.  We just need to verify some questions 
that need to be answered.  Mr. Carlson, for most of your 
career, you have noted by your superiors as an 
outstanding police officer and agent.  A man dedicated 
to his profession.  Someone that would make the 
supreme sacrifice. Someone that would take a bullet, 
rather than risk the President or his family.  Mr. 
Carlson, are you still that dedicated?"

I didn't say a word and just slowly sipped my coffee.  
The room was quite and everyone was looking at me.  I 
slowly looked around the room, looking into their eyes, 
trying to determine where this was going.  I could read 
nothing, especially in Joan's deep dark eyes.  When I 
didn't respond after twenty seconds, Roy asked again 
"Well?"

"I don't know.  I am only two years away from retiring 
and was looking forward to getting that job selling real 
estate back in my hometown." I replied.

Roy looked across the room at the man to my left for a 
moment and then said "Look, we don't have much time.  
We spent a lot of our very short time, getting  you here.  
We have to have answers and can't pussy-foot around."

I looked around the room.  Behind Joan was a mirror, 
which I assumed was a two-sided mirror and I felt that I 
was being watched and taped from behind it.  I didn't 
know what was going on here, but I was not about to let 
myself be rail-roaded into something after the way that I 
was treated for the two years since my court-martial.

As we sat there waiting for me to say something, a back 
door opened and William P. Zane, the head of the Secret 
Service entered the room.  He had been behind the 
mirror.  He sat down across from me and said "Hello 
Jimmy.  It's been a long time."

"Bill." I acknowledged.

He pulled some forms from in front of Roy and said 
"Jimmy, you know if I am involved, it is a critical 
situation that is tantamount to a national emergency as 
it applies to the President's safety.  I have to have you 
sign these forms, stating that you will never reveal what 
you are about to learn here tonight." as he pushed the 
forms to me.

I signed them after glancing at them to see that they 
were what he said.  As soon as I put the pen down, he 
said "Come with me."

I stood up and followed him through the door, while 
everyone else remained in the room.  We walked down 
the corridor and he opened a door for me.  I stepped into 
the door and stopped.  It was a big room, fixed up as a 
hospital room, with one bed in it.  I couldn't see who 
was in the bed for the plastic membrane protecting the 
bed.  Two doctors were working on equipment and 
looked up as we entered the room.  Mr. Zane handed me 
a surgical mask which I put on.  He nodded to a doctor, 
who led me to the plastic membrane and unzipped it so 
that I could look inside.

My first glance revealed it was not who I suspected it to 
be - The President.  The body under this sheet was too 
small to be him.  Then I saw her face and long blonde 
hair.  It was the President's wife - Carolyn Dawson.

Chapter 2 - The Invite

My knees went limp.  I could see that her breasts under 
the sheet were slowly moving as if she was breathing, 
but she appeared cold and dead.  The doctor would not 
allow me to enter the tent, and allowed me only a 
moment to examine her face before he zippered the 
closing.  I turned and felt myself sweating, even though 
it was cold in here.  My mind was whirling with millions 
of questions about how this could happen and why.  
Zane was still standing just inside the doorway.  He said 
to the doctors "Please step out into the hallway for a 
moment."

After the two doctors stepped out and shut the door, 
Zane said "We don't have much time.  We must make a 
decision in the next hour and start the medical 
treatment or we must announce on today's evening six 
o'clock news that the President's wife is dead.  Sorry to 
put you in this situation, but I thought that if you saw 
what we have to control, that you would be more 
receptive to our questions.  Three of those people at the 
table don't know exactly what we have here, so don't 
mention anything about this.  Now, let's go back and get 
those damn questions out of the way."

I looked him square in the eyes and said only one word 
"What?"

"Thromboembolism or blood clot.  She is still alive 
because of our equipment, but she is brain dead.  
Without the equipment, she will quit breathing.  
Remember, don't say anything."

I followed him out of the hospital room and back up to 
the conference room. As I turned to sit down, I glanced 
at myself in the mirror and saw that my skin was pale 
and that I was sweating. For a moment, I thought that I 
saw a movement in the two-way mirror as if someone 
else was behind it and standing too close to it.  I looked 
back to the group sitting around the table and straight 
into Joan's eyes.  For a moment, I was able to sense that 
she knew what I had seen back in that hospital bed 
before she removed all trace of emotion from her dark 
eyes.  I knew then that she was a professional agent and 
would not let anything slip past her observant eyes.

I sat back down and Zane pushed some papers in front 
of Roy. Roy said "If a situation presented itself, where it 
was your life or the President's life, what would you do?"

I didn't hesitate as I quietly replied "I would position 
myself between the President and the danger."

Roy looked at the next question and asked "Are you 
prepared to give up your life as you know it, in the 
service of your country?"

"Yes."

Roy looked at the next question and Zane stopped him 
by asking "Jimmy, let's get the bullshit out of the way.  
We need someone to volunteer for a critical sucide 
mission.  Once started, there is no turning back or 
changing your mind. One that affects not only today's 
America, but we feel it also affects the America of the 
future.  If you accept, Jimmy Carlson will disappear 
from the face of the earth today. He will cease to exist.  
There will be a grave with his name and body in it by the 
end of this week.  And there is no backing out.  I can't 
say anymore than that before you sigh the mission 
authorization papers.  What is your answer?"

I took a deep breath and faintly heard my own voice say 
"I volunteer."

I picked my coffee up and took a quick swallow as Zane 
looked around the table as he asked "I believe him.  But 
you are the experts.  He has been examined before in 
other circumstances and you have read those reports 
and seen tapes of some of those interviews.  Anyone 
think he is lying or the wrong person for a very critical, 
suicide mission?"

No one said anything and Zane said "Ok, sign these 
papers.  Clear the room Roy!"

As I signed the papers, six of the people left the room.  
As Joan walked by, she said quietly "God bless you."

I signed the papers as the door shut.  I didn't even read 
them.  The man to my left said "I am Doctor Swenson.  
When President Kennedy was shot in 1963, we started 
secret medical research on how we could reduce the 
emotional impact on our country as a result of attacks 
on the President or his family.  While we are not able to 
make him safer, we are able to convince everyone that 
he is all right after an attack.  About two years ago, we 
developed the last key to our solution.  We now have the 
technology and skills to transfer a functioning, normal 
brain into a body that is in otherwise good health.  We 
want to transplant your brain into her body."

*******

No one said anything but just looked at me.  I had 
suspected something along this tangent as soon as Zane 
asked the first question; but did not know how it could 
be accomplished.  They want me to give up my life, and 
become a woman.  A woman who is the President's wife.

"I don't doubt that you can't do what you say.  But what 
does that do to me?" I asked, hearing my voice get a 
little high pitched with tension.

"We put you to sleep, transfer your brain to her body, 
and put her brain into your body.  Then we will let your 
body die and bury your old body with full honors.  One 
of the reasons that you were selected, is because you 
have no family,  you are the same blood type as Mrs. 
Dawson and you are a professional agent that is familiar 
with the White House and presidential procedures.  You 
have recently gone through a nasty divorce, you lost a 
lot of money in the divorce and do not have any current 
relationships with anyone.  If you disappear, very few 
people will miss you.  You are almost a perfect choice, 
except for your birth sex.  You will wake up in her body, 
but with your memory.  Then you will have to learn how 
to be a woman and most important, how to be her.  You 
will in effect become Carolyn Dawson, wife of the 
President of the United States." said Zane.

"What does the President have to say about this?" I 
asked, knowing the answer before I asked the question.

"He concurs.  And he will do his part.  The First Lady 
and he were not as close as their Press Agents describe 
their relationship.  If both of them did not have long 
term political desires, they would have been divorced a 
long time ago.  We let a few women slip in to see him 
every once in awhile and she had a couple of 
undocumented movements during her frequent travels.  
You will have your own bedroom and only have to play 
the wife role in public.  Sharing bedrooms is not a 
requirement." 

I stood up and leaned over the table, putting my face as 
close to his as I could as I said "There is no fucking way 
that I can pull this impersonation off, even if you are 
able to get me to wake up in her body.  I know nothing 
about being a woman, much less about being her.  My 
divorce proved that I do not understand female 
mentality.  I could not replace a normal woman, much 
less someone as widely know from TV as her.  She is too 
well known and has too strong of a personality for me to 
succeed.  You need a woman, one of the female agents 
who has been watching and listening to her for the last 
couple years.  I have been on motorcycle duty and not 
even in the same room with her.  I can't do it."

"There is no one available.  We also wanted a woman to 
be our first choice, but the female agents familiar with 
her have the wrong blood type or other problems.  Other 
female agents either have families or reasons where we 
couldn't even consider them for this mission.  Believe 
me, it was a difficult decision to make because of your 
natural sex, but you are the only person in our whole 
department that has any chance of medically or 
mentally pulling this off.  We can do the medical 
transplant portion, the schedule changes while you heal 
and learn your new role, and we can work with you as 
you learn how to live her life.  You are the right person 
for this.  You have to believe that you can do this and 
you have to do it.  You have to let Jimmy Carlson die 
and walk away as Carolyn Dawson.  You have to become 
Carolyn Dawson for the rest of her life."

I shut my eyes and carefully pronounced each word as I 
slowly said "What if we just let her die?"

"She is the most popular First Lady in years.  She was 
the reason the President won the last election and will 
be the reason that he wins the next one. She has so 
much popular support that she could run for the term 
after and probably get it.  She is the driving force behind 
most of the social change programs that are currently 
being discussed by Congress.  She has done too much 
for America to let her die."

"I can't do it."

Zane jumped to his feet and leaned over the table with 
his face so close to mine that I could smell the smell 
from his lungs where he smoked his pipe.  He whispered 
"That misconduct hearing did what no one else could 
do.  It cut your balls off.  You were railroaded just as I 
would have been, if my picture or anyone else had been 
shown on the news hitting a fucking geek in the face.  I 
can't help that or make it up to you.  But I never 
thought that you would let someone that you were 
responsible for, die.  And that is what you are doing.  If 
you don't make your mind up in a hurry and get on with 
it, she is dead.  The woman that you swore to protect is 
going to die.  The First Lady of the United States.  That 
is who she is.  Because you lost your balls and your 
dedication.  Jimmy Carlson, can you live with yourself if 
you let her die?"

*******

It is a beautiful day.  I am on a warm, sunny Caribbean 
island and walking down a lonely, quite cove.  But I feel 
funny.  My throat is dry and I am having trouble 
breathing.  As I try to swallow, I see the cove fade and a 
mist forms over my eyes.  I can see a face leaning over 
me but I can't see who it is for the mist.  Then the mist 
clears up a little and I can see a man's face wearing a 
surgical mask and cap.  He is saying something but it 
sounds so far away.  I try to ignore him and go back to 
my island but the man is insistent and I can faintly hear 
him now.  He is saying "Jimmy, it's Doctor Swenson.  
Can you hear me?"

I try to respond but can't because of something down 
my throat.  I can only nod and then I return to my 
island.

*****

"Talk to me.  Who are you?" said the distant voice.

I blinked my eyes open and stared into a bright light 
aimed at me.  As I squinted my eyes, I could see three 
people wearing surgical clothes standing around me.  I 
must have been hurt in a motorcycle wreck. I am in a 
hospital.

The voice is very insistent "Talk.  Say something.  Don't 
go back to sleep.  Who are you?"

I opened my lips and could feel my mouth move.  I could 
also tell that my lips and mouth were dried and sore.  I 
struggle to say "Carlson".  Trhough the fog, I hear my 
name spoken but don't recognize the voice.

I faintly hear one of the voices say "Go back to sleep."

*******

Someone is shaking me.  I can feel them shaking me, 
but I am still sunning myself at the beach and have my 
eyes shut.  I can feel the sun baking my body, soaking 
into every pore of my flesh, relaxing me.  And then the 
voice comes back "Wake up, Jimmy."

I slowly open my eyes and have a hard time focusing.  
Then I see the two men leaning over, wearing green 
surgical gowns.  What has happened to me?  Where am 
I?

I try to sit up and the man closest to me says "No, 
Jimmy.  You still need to rest.  Your body has been 
through a lot of trauma."

I recognize the voice.  It is my boss, Bill Zane.  No, my 
former boss.  Then memories of my midnight meeting 
with him jerks me awake.  I turn my head quickly and 
look at him.  Behind the mask, he smiles and says "It 
worked.  The surgery was a complete success.  You are 
now in her body.  You are Carolyn Dawson."

I try to move, but can't because I feel so weak.  I try to 
talk and hear myself grunt as I try to form words.  The 
other man says "Please relax.  The surgery was perfect.  
And you are healing.  Your new body needs to rest and 
recover.  There is nothing wrong."

I didn't have the strength to lift my arms and could feel 
the tubes move as I tried to discover what was going on.  
Doctor Swenson held a hand mirror and turned it so 
that I could look straight into it.  Staring back at me, 
with very scared eyes, was the face of Carolyn Dawson.  
It was not the way that she normally looked because the 
face was pale, looked sick, and did not have the normal 
make-up on that makes her look so pretty.  There was 
no mistaking her face, even with the shaved head and 
very evident surgical stitches in what was the hairline.  
It was definitely not the face of Jimmy Carlson that I 
was seeing.

I am in her body.  It was not a dream.  It really 
happened.  I am now a woman.  And....

I grunted "mmmyy baady.  Whaaat?

Zane said "Your body? It was as we described.  Your 
former body died with her brain.  We buried your body 
with full honors."

I started crying.  I couldn't help myself.  I felt a needle 
stick me and I felt a warmth flow through my body as I 
fell asleep again.  I felt the island draw me back to it's 
warm relaxing sunny shores.

******

They have propped the bed up so that I am sitting up.  
The protective plastic membrane around my bed has 
been taken down and I know that I am very awake 
although I hope that I am still dreaming.  It does not 
seem possible that I am no longer me.  No longer the 
person that I was born 47 years ago. No longer a man.  I 
am now a woman.  I am now the wife of the most 
important political leader in the world.  

For the first time in this body, I can move my new body 
some.  I was very weak from the surgery.  After drinking 
some water and relaxing, I discovered that I could talk 
with minimum difficulty.  My new voice was different.  
Very different, but I could talk.

Zane, Roy, Joan and Doctor Swenson were standing 
around my bed.  Zane started "After you agreed to the 
surgery, we took you back to the operating room and 
prepared you for surgery.  Within an hour of making the 
decision, you were out cold on an operating table, as 
Doctor Swenson started the procedure.  By lunch time, 
your brain was in her body and her brain in your body.  
About one p.m., your body died when we removed it 
from the life support system. The brain was not capable 
of keeping either her body or your body breathing.  At 
the same time, we canceled Mrs. Dawson's 
appointments for the following day, announcing a 
simple flu.  The next day, we released a hospital 
statement that she would be out all week and canceled 
her immediate appointments.  Reporters were searching 
all of the hospitals trying to find her and scoop the 
world on her health.  After four days of that, CBS 
reported that they felt the White House was lying to the 
press.  We called in the heads of the major new agencies 
and told them the truth.  That Mrs. Dawson had a 
Thromboembolism and undergone emergency cranial 
surgery.  We requested their cooperation and they 
cooperated for another three days until someone blew 
the story, per our plans. Then every reporter in the 
world started looking for her.  We confirmed the story, 
gave them a bullshit security reason for lying to them, 
and then showed them pictures of you lying in bed, with 
your head shaved and tubes down your throat. There 
were pictures of the President sitting beside you, 
watching you. Since then, there have been several 
television specials about damage to trigeminal nerves 
and arcuate nucleus which is part of our cover story as 
to why we performed such radical surgery on you so 
fast.  It has been two weeks since the surgery.  How do 
you feel?"

I looked down at my much smaller arms and body under 
the sheet and said "I feel a constant urge to pee."

Zane laughed and replied "You have a catheter, so don't 
worry about it.  How do you feel otherwise?"

"Like a truck ran over me.  Except for feeling a little 
funny whenever I look at this much smaller body, I feel 
very natural."

Doctor Swenson said "We brought a couple more people 
into our inner circle to help us help you learn your new 
role.  The female Secret Service agent that you met at 
the interview is now aware of what really occurred.  
Joan will be assigned to you, supposedly for your 
protection, but really to help you.  Not only will she help 
you learn the little woman tricks and skills, but she will 
also help you learn the personality traits that easily 
identify you.  From this moment on, you must refer and 
think about yourself as Carolyn.  You must not mention 
any references to any former life or different sex.  You 
must think, live, and be Carolyn Dawson.   Bury the 
past and live for the future."

Chapter 3 - The First Month

The next day was when it really hit me.  As I sat up, 
they untied my arms and I was able to examine my 
relative skinny arms. And the long slender fingers with 
the manicured fingernails.  You don't know how weird it 
is, to look at your fingers and as they move when you 
flex them, you know that it is not your hand.

And I did it.  I pulled the gown down and looked at the 
boobs.  Lying back as I was, they were kinda pushed 
down and didn't look too appealing from where I was 
looking.  They jiggle as I move and it feels funny when I 
reach my arm across my chest and feel them.  The 
areola are large as are the nipples.  The areola is a little 
puffy and it is almost as if a smaller breast is sitting on 
the breast.

I also looked at the vagina, but it also looked weird with 
the catheter sticking up inside the vagina lips.  It didn't 
look very sexy.

I held the hand mirror up and looked at my new face.  
The long blonde hair is gone and only a small tuff of very 
short hair exists, where the head was shaved for the 
operation.  The hair is growing back in, but it is only 
about a quarter of an inch long all over my head.  And it 
is dark, not her blonde color.  The face is narrow.  It is 
not a beautiful face, but is a pleasant face that can be 
made very attractive with just a little makeup.  There 
are no flaws, except for where a mole was removed from 
the upper lip, and a slight scar just under the chin from 
a high school moped wreck.  Wrinkles are just forming 
on the forehead, where she raises her eyebrows a lot.  
Around the mouth, there are traces of a smile wrinkle 
forming, from the way that she smiles so frequently.

I look in the mirror as I touch the face.  It seems so 
unreal to feel fingertips touch my face and look in the 
mirror at the strange face and strange hand.  Remember 
that old Jerry Lewis routine, where he walks in front of 
a mirror and the image in the mirror makes exactly the 
same motions that he makes.  Jerry knows it is not him 
and tries all sorts of motions to trick the other person.  
That is the way I felt.  I wanted to do something, 
anything and see the other image miss or have too long 
a delay.

While I was doing this self-contemplation, Zane came in 
with the bad news "The President is on his way here.  He 
wants to get a picture of him standing beside his 
recovering wife.  The press is clamoring for pictures."

"I can't do it.  I know nothing about her or how I am 
supposed to act."

"Don't worry.  You just came out of major surgery.  All 
you have to do, is let him stand beside you, smile a 
little, hold up your fingers making an Ok sign, and 
grunt.  We will cover for everything else and get him out 
of here."

******

We spent the next several minutes preparing me.  Joan 
and Doctor Swenson changed my hospital gown, then 
Joan put a little lipstick on my lips and a little make-up 
on my cheek to give me a little color.  Zane promised 
that the President wouldn't kiss me because of germs, 
but that he would have to hold my hand and sit very 
close to me, while they took the pictures.

While we were talking, the President walked in by 
himself, leaving his guards in the hallway.  I didn't say a 
word as he walked over to the bed.  He smiled as he said 
"I don't know what to say to you now and will have to 
think about it some more.  I don't think that I would 
have the courage to do what you have done, and I will 
make sure that I do what is expected of me.  In a 
minute, I will let the photographer come back here.  I 
will walk over to you, sit on your bed and hold your 
hand.  Then I will sit down in the chair and talk to you.  
All the time, the photographer will be taking pictures.  
Don't pay any attention to him when I am looking into 
your eyes.  Just focus on me.  For a couple of the 
pictures, you will have to look into the camera and 
smile.  Just don't say anything.  If you have to say 
something, call me Reggie.  Ok."

I nodded my head and he turned to Zane as he said 
"Anyone that gets in here before she is ready, is dead 
meat."

Zane nodded his head and looked at me.  Then he 
walked over the door and opened it.  A man came in, 
carrying two cameras and wearing another three 
cameras on straps around his neck; followed by 
someone that I recognized as the Presidents Press 
Secretary.  The photographer looked at me and said "Hi, 
Carolyn.  Don't worry about a thing.  You will be the 
best looking woman to ever get her picture on page one 
with her surgical bandages on."

I just smiled at him, as he took his light readings and 
adjusted his camera.  Then he started shooting as he 
walked around the room, going through many rolls of 
film as he snapped so many shots.  Then he said "Ok, 
time for the propaganda pictures."

The President stood beside my bed and held my hand.  
For a moment, I frowned as I felt the strange feeling of 
what felt like an extremely large hand holding mine.  I 
still thought of my hand as being the normal male hand 
and feeling this much larger hand wrap around my 
hand was very strange.  After the camera clicked, I 
remembered what I was supposed to be doing and faked 
a smile. 

Then the President sat on the bed and acted as if he was 
talking to me.  Then he sat in a chair, after taking off his 
jacket and loosening his tie, to look as if he had been 
here for awhile.  Two or three more poses and then the 
Press Secretary eased the photographer out.  The 
President looked at me and said "You did great.  I have 
to get back to the White House."  

*****

They let me sleep and rest.  When I woke up, Joan was 
sitting in the chair.  She smiled at me and said "I didn't 
think that you would go through with the surgery.  You 
have a lot of balls."

I laughed as I replied "Where?  I looked this body over 
carefully but I didn't see any."

"You know what I mean.  That surgery was untried on 
humans and to risk death while you give up your own 
life, for someone else's life is extremely difficult to even 
consider.  They evaluated me as a possible donor 
because we have the same blood type, but then they 
found out that there could be some complications 
because of my sickle cell trait.  So they passed over me 
and let me participate in the search for my replacement.  
Thank god, because I don't think that I could have gone 
through with it.  You see, I am a lesbian and don't think 
that I could stand to be in bed with Reggie, much less 
kiss him.  He doesn't have enough soul for my taste."

"Shit.  How do you think I feel?" I said.

"Sorry.  It is so easy to forget that you are not naturally 
used to the body that you inhabit.  You look so natural 
and so much like her."

"How many other people were considered?" I asked, 
trying to change the subject.

"Twenty-three were being evaluated.  But when it 
happened to her, you were the only one close enough."

"When do I start my learning to be who I am supposed 
to be?"

"Now." was the reply as Joan opened a photographic 
album.

******

A hospital bed was put in a bedroom in the White House 
and I was moved back there.  Either Joan or Bill Zane or 
Doctor Swenson are my almost constant companions.  
With their assistance, I have learned so many trivial 
facts about the life of Carolyn Dawson that I find it hard 
to believe that I am not really her.

The hardest part, was the first day that I was allowed to 
eat normal food.  I am a steak and potatoes man and 
they bring me a little sprig of lettuce and some yogurt.  
No wonder she has a size 24 waist.

I don't feel any different.  Although I am still restricted 
to my bed and can't get up without help, I don't feel like 
I am any different.  I am able to breath, turn my head, 
and move different parts of my body.  I can't urinate or 
defecate yet because of all the tubes stuck into me as 
they keep the medicine flowing me.  Part of my 
continued treatment is to make sure that this body does 
not reject the brain, so they have to monitor me closer 
than they would for the supposed surgery.  

I guess that I don't feel any different because this is the 
way that I would feel and act if I had been in an accident 
and was still in my original body.  I am not doing 
anything yet that could be defined as feminine or that is 
normally associated with a woman.  Except for letting 
Joan put a little make-up on my face, and keeping my 
nails manicured.

Joan is my constant companion.  At first, I was really 
confused over everything that was occurring to me and 
paid very little attention to her.  But after we moved my 
hospital bed into the White House and my strength 
began to recover, I began to notice my surroundings.  
Especially Joan.

She is a tall, dark, supremely healthy looking young 
woman. Her physique is tall and slender with wonderful 
womanly  curves. Her father is a black policeman and 
her mother is a white lawyer.  She inherited her father's 
athletic body frame and her mother's classic female face 
and curves.  Her complexion is to light to pass for a 
black, yet too brown to pass for white.  

Her dark hair has a heavy natural curl but is not kinky.  
She liked to fix her shoulder length hair in a different 
style every day, but the style that I liked the most, was 
when she simply parted it in the middle and let it hang 
down, framing her beautiful face.  

Her large dark eyes had a chatoyant quality, as they 
would change from a dark unfathomable pool to a 
vivacious gleam showing her love of life. Her magic was 
her eyes, which were rich with mysterious power and 
hidden desires.  As we spend many hours together daily, 
I become enthralled with the way that she uses her eyes 
to tease and captivate me.  In my sleep, I am haunted by 
her wonderful eyes. 

Her luxurious skin showed there were no faults on her 
face and what could be seen of her body. She didn't like 
her nose but I thought it was cute.  As she would read 
to me, my eyes would focus on her mouth and ruby red 
lips. Her lips were soft, full, and very voluptuous. I liked 
the way that her soft glistening lipstick highlighted her 
mouth and her snow white perfect teeth.

Her daily exercise was swimming or bike riding.  One 
day, she had on a sleeveless blouse.  I liked the way that 
her  shoulder and arm muscles showed her excellent 
physical shape without detracting from her femininity. 

Our first and only argument was about food.  I was still 
hungry after eating my salad and wanted a hamburger.  
I learned more in the next ten minutes about proper 
nutrition than I ever wanted to know.  She ate nothing 
but healthy foods, limited her food portions, and 
followed a regular exercise routine.  Which I was to have 
to learn how to do also, because Carolyn also took care 
of her body.

I felt some very strong, yet in my current position, 
strange sexual desires for Joan as we worked.  Although 
I now had my own set of breasts and a vagina, I still 
found delight in staring at her high, proud, round, firm, 
voluptuous and sweet breasts and daydreamed about 
burying my nose between the cleavage that occasionally 
was exposed to me. And what wonderful breasts they 
were, as I watched them rise and fall noticeably with her 
every breath underneath her form-fitting clothes. 

Her legs were  likewise perfect. Her thighs, which had 
attracted my attention the first time I saw her, were just 
the right combination of muscle and velvet softness.  
The top of her skirt exposed her dimpled knees, sloped 
calves and dainty ankles.

It didn't take me too long to realize that my incumbency 
of Carolyn Dawson's body, would have strong lesbian 
tendencies, which I would have to hide.  

She wore a skirt every day, but one day as we were 
relaxing, she showed me some pictures of her in her 
billfold.  There was one of her wearing jeans and a T-
shirt, which I memorized every detail of.  Most black 
women have large behinds, with some of them being too 
large.  Joan very clearly had a large firm behind but it 
was proportional to her overall body shape, but it did 
not detract from her overall excellent physical shape.   
Her high, proud ass cheeks were straining the fabric in 
a delightful manner.

Sometimes as she would read to me of Carolyn's many 
accomplishments, I would shut my eyes and listen to 
the music of Joan's voice.  Joan had followed in her 
mother's footsteps and attended law school before 
applying for the service.  Her sometimes husky voice 
had just a trace of her Atlanta accent, but the law 
school had taught her perfect diction.

Yes, as I laid in bed resting with my eyes shut, I would 
frequently fantasize about Joan.  My ex-wife Judy and I 
had a rough three years before we finally separated and 
I continued to live my monk-like existence for another 
two years.  Joan was the first and only woman that I 
had allowed to get close to me or for me to say more 
than three words to her.  Is it any wonder that I had 
very strong sexual thoughts about her?  Even knowing 
that I did not have the physical equipment to do to her, 
what I wanted to do to her.  My only hope was that after 
I healed and began to adapt to my new body, that I 
could experience an lesbian romance with her.

As part of my training, Joan shows me pictures of 
people, places, and then quizzes me to make sure that I 
have the names and history right.  Then she gives me 
more history lessons not only on myself, but upon 
topics which Carolyn was very familiar with.  Prior to 
the surgery for example, I could not identify the 
members of the Supreme Court, but now I know their 
spouses names, where they live and when they ate with 
us at the White House last.

We play a game to help me learn her history.  They feeds 
facts to me and then ask me to relate to the facts as 
Carolyn would.  To do that, I have to clear my mind and 
pretend that I am her.  I start out by shutting my eyes 
and going over the following general litany before 
responding.

I am Carolyn Dawson.  My maiden name was Walker.  
My grandfather was Senator Walker from North 
Carolina.  When my father refused to go into politics, 
granddad started working on me.  I graduated from 
North Carolina State, with a degree in Psychology and 
President of the Student Body two years in a row.  I 
went to work on President Johnson's campaign and had 
obtained the state party chairman's job by the end of 
the election.  Because of my youth, good looks, money, 
and family ties, I quickly eased into national jobs, which 
is where I met Reggie.  

We dated and got married.  I dedicated my life to helping 
him prepare himself for the presidency.  As we were 
campaigning, it was quickly discovered that my natural 
personality was a very big plus for Reggie.  In his first 
major election for Senator, the party was pushing me to 
run instead of Reggie.  But I supported my husband.  
After two terms as Senator, he obtained a job as 
Ambassador to England for a quick appointment.  Then 
we got Reggie a job heading up a major corporation, 
while maintaining our hats still in the political ring.  
When he announced for President, he was considered a 
long shot.  But the favorite was photographed in a gay 
bar being too friendly to one of the bar patrons and they 
needed someone that had a slightly more clean record.  
With the party's support, we won.  Barely, but we won.

After he got the President, I became active in all sorts of 
civic affairs.  When ever there was a tragedy, I was there 
to offer help and to get my picture on the news.  I am 
currently forty-five years old.  I have never been 
pregnant, thank god.

My body is very good shape or was before the operation.  
I am five foot seven inches, weigh one hundred and 
seventeen pounds.  My measurements are 36-24-34, 
and I used to have long blonde hair before the surgery.  
My cup size is a full 36 B or if I am bloated because of 
my period, a 36 C.  I am still having my periods and 
have that to look forward to. I am beginning to get where 
I have to wear glasses to read and use contact lens.  
Otherwise, I am very athletic, play softball with my 
church team, jog, play tennis, like to dance, and used to 
ride a motorcycle before the Secret Service made me give 
it up.  I also like to stop off for a beer after work.

Maturity had given me a fine, classical beauty that men 
like to stare at and women check for signs of surgical 
assist.  My face is smooth and perfect, a graceful  
symmetry of high, softly angled cheek-bones, warm, 
pouting lips underneath a delicate nose.  I am the 
typical young, beautiful, and blonde woman that is 
beginning to show just a little age, but still attractive 
enough to get any man that I want to go after.  The fuzz 
on my head is dark but there are traces of blond and a 
hairstylist will help me restore the correct color once my 
surgery area has healed some more. With my body, I 
could have been a fashion model or an actress, rather 
than a  political wife.

My family is dead except for an uncle that I have little to 
do with.  I love my husband very much and forget about 
the hint of an affair that he was having when we 
announced for the election.

My husband's name is Reginald Jerome Dawson or 
Reggie as he prefers to be called.  He is six foot two 
inches, dark hair, and looks like he could have been a 
quarterback in college.  He is eight years older than me 
and is beginning to get a little pot belly from the lack of 
exercise in the White House.  His mother is still alive 
and her name is Martha but she likes to be called Marta 
by the family.  While Reggie was never married before; 
before we got married, he did have a long affair with a 
reporter that now is the anchor for one of the local TV 
stations.  I watched an interview that she did with me, 
where she tried to be nice but also was a little catty to 
me.  I was ever so much the lady and ignored her 
slightly insulting remarks.

I can look at the pictures of my staff and name every 
one of them and what they do.  I know the layout of the 
White House from my days working there.  

I have listened to recordings of her talking and being 
interviewed until I can't take any more videos. Her face 
is intelligent with baby-doll features.  With her looks, 
body, background and current position, she could have 
been a real bitch, showing her power.  But in the videos, 
she displays none of the expected aloofness or her using 
her power to gain additional power.  Instead she comes 
across as being a real  honest person and someone that 
really cares.  Her smile is not a fake smile and when she 
is with other people, she listens to them, with a 
unmistakable sincerity.  

I observed her little mannerisms, her speech patterns, 
her facial expressions, her hand movements and know 
every thing that she does.  Only I have to do it in a very 
natural movement and so it doesn't seen rehearsed.  The 
major problem is that I have to slow my native DC 
speech down to the more southern slower speech.

One of my habits, is when I am thinking about 
something, I purse my lips.  Sometimes, I stroke my 
upper lip and then pull on my left ear lobe twice before 
realizing what I am doing.

Now that my head is healing from my medical problem, I 
need to pick up my life again and become active after I 
heal.  After all, I am Carolyn Dawson.

Chapter 4 - Almost Healed

I felt kinda funny the first several times that I had to go 
through the above routine.  But then I realized, that the 
more times I said it, the easier it was to say.  

The number of people aware of my masquerade just 
increased by one to twelve, counting myself.  Liz 
Arroine, the special assistant to the First Lady, was 
brought into the plot.  She doesn't know the real story 
but was given a cover-up story that uses stroke induced 
amnesia as the reason for my loss of memory.  Because 
she has been actively participating in Carolyn's day-to-
day operations for over two years, she is very familiar 
with the political life and will make sure that we stay on 
track.  Zane, Reggie, and Liz came into my room today 
and discussed what needed to occur over the next two 
months, until I am able to take a more active role.  It is 
the longest time that Reggie has spent with me.  And 
somewhere in the discussion, I picked up a very strong 
feeling that Reggie is having an affair with Liz.

*********

I have had two interviews so far.  One was a newspaper 
reporter and the other was a television reporter.  Both 
reporters were required to submit their questions in 
advance and I was prepped for the answers.  Prior to 
giving the interviews, I was thoroughly rehearsed by 
both Joan and Liz.  While I don't have my role down yet, 
the objective was to show that Mrs. Dawson is healing 
slowly, has to take her time recovering before she jumps 
back into a full schedule yet, and to give me some 
rehearsals for when I have to wing it by myself.

During the rehearsal for the newspaper reporter, I 
almost revealed my desire for Joan to her.  She was 
sitting across from me and asking the questions out of 
order and using different phrasing, to throw me off 
balance on my answers.  I was doing a good job of 
responding and knew that she couldn't trick me.  After 
answering correctly, one particular set of questions that 
was not even supposed to be part of the interview,  she 
smiled at me.  

For a moment, I was able to see into her dark pools of 
eyes and to see some of the private Joan and I liked 
what I saw.  But my eyes were fixed on her too long, and 
she gave an embarrassed smile as she realized that my 
glance was full of sexual desire for her. She became 
embarrassed at me showing interest in her. While she 
also had some interest in me, she had to maintain a 
relationship that could not be sexual.  

"Mrs. Dawson, there are rumors that you are 
considering running for President when your husband is 
finished with his maximum number of terms." Joan 
paused after asking a question that was not on the list.

"Barbara, when my health returns, I plan to resume my 
life.  I do not have any political ambition for myself and 
just wish to spend the rest of my life serving America as 
a volunteer.  I will follow Reggie wherever he goes and do 
whatever is needed for my husband and my country." I 
replied, using a standard evasion answer and calling her 
Barbara because that is who she was pretending to be.

"Good, you sounded very real as if you truly meant that 
answer.  I'm getting some water, Want some?" she 
announced in a girlish-sweet voice.

I stared at the open notebook on my lap. It was full of 
the most boring political junk.  But everything there was 
something that Carolyn Dawson would be most 
knowledgeable about.  If I am going to impersonate her, 
I have to learn this crap.

I nodded to Joan and watched her as she walked across 
the room.  She has a very fluid method of walking, 
almost gliding.  I watched as she poured two glasses of 
ice water and she knew that I was watching her.  As she 
turned to walk back, she teasingly stuck her tongue out 
at me.

"I am feeling trapped.  I have been in this damn 
bedroom too long and I need to get out and get some 
fresh air." I said

"Only two more days of bedroom restriction and the 
doctor will let you walk around the grounds.  Just relax 
and enjoy this pampering." she said.

"Easy for you to say.  You can go home, eat at 
McDonalds, and enjoy all of the comforts of having a 
life.  I didn't realize what I was getting into, when I 
agreed to this." I said, feeling sorry for myself.

Joan sat down next to me, and studied me as I stared 
out the window at one of the security guards making his 
rounds on the grounds.  I didn't know this guy, but 
knew everything that he was supposed to be doing and 
looking for.  And I envied him.

I don't know why, but I started crying.  I haven't cried 
since my mother died.  And now I was sitting here on 
my bed crying.

Putting her arm gently around my shoulder, with her 
other hand, she pulled a Kleenex from the nightstand 
and wiped my eyes as she whispered quietly, "It's all 
right.  We were expecting this and you need to get it out 
of your system.  You are not used to the hormones that 
are now flowing through your body and you feel 
discouraged from being in this room for so long.  You 
want to get out and get some fresh air but we can't let 
you move around much yet.  Isn't that how you feel?"

I wiped my eyes and looked at Joan's face as I nodded. 
This was the first time that she had touched me. I felt so 
funny inside from the feel of her hands against my skin.   
Why am I making a fool out of myself?

"Look how tense you are.  Get that robe off and lay down 
on your belly while I rub some of the tension away.  My 
hands are magic." she instructed.

She stood up and tugged gently on my robe's belt.  I 
smiled at her and knew that she was right.  I am too 
tense and a backrub would relax me.   I stood up also, 
undid my robe belt and let the robe drop to the floor.  
Then I laid down on my belly, remembering to position 
my boobs so that they were not pinched.

I was wearing only panties and the cool air felt good on 
my bare skin.  Joan's strong hands glided smoothly over 
my body as she covered my legs, back, shoulders, and 
arms with baby oil. What she was doing to me felt great 
and I could have fell asleep quite easily.

After my back was coated with lotion, Joan said "Your 
panties are in the way." as she gently took hold of my 
panties, and slowly pulled them all the way off.  As Joan 
began gently kneading my buttocks, my mind drifted off 
to a favorite lake that I liked to fish at.  I felt so peaceful 
from just the touch of her hands on my bare skin.   My 
entire body, every muscle and every nerve, was totally 
relaxed.

Faintly I heard her voice say "Roll over now." and 
something sounded different.  Her voice sounded husky 
all of a sudden.  Wonder if she is coming down with a 
summer cold?

I slowly rolled over onto my back and shut my eyes 
against the overhead light.  I felt her warm oil slick 
hands rub my feet and my lower legs.  Then she coated 
and rubbed the oil into my neck and shoulders, letting 
the oil soak into my dry skin.

While Joan's hands spread the slick oil over my body, I 
start daydreaming about what I would have done two 
months ago in a situation like this.  I would have had a 
raging erection before I ever rolled over and would have 
been trying to get her to give me a blow job by now. 

And then it happened.  

I felt a warm, damp sensation between my legs.  Not 
really within my legs, but in my lower body oozing 
towards my legs. A slow warm, wet delicious feeling. My 
body was getting turned on from what Joan was doing 
to me.  

When she said "Roll over.", I rolled over, making sure to 
let my legs remain slightly spread.  As she applied the 
oil to my upper chest, I watched her face.  She slowly 
continued applying the oil until my entire body glistened 
with the warm oil.  When she came to my breasts, she 
paused for a moment and looked me directly in the eyes.  
For just a brief moment, she relaxed her guard and let 
me see the desire that she was hiding.  Then she turned 
her eyes back into their usual deep unfathomable pools.

"I like what you are doing and really enjoy a nice 
massage. My new body's skin is very dry and requires a 
lot of lotion."

"You don't have a new body.  It has always been your 
body," she said correcting me.

"Do I have a beautiful body?" I asked as she rubbed the 
oil into my breasts, causing my nipples to harden.

She stood there beside the massage table, staring down 
at me as developed her answer. Then she took a breath, 
and replied "For your age, it is a very beautiful body."

"Thank you.  And thank you for being more than just 
my tutor.  Thank you for being my friend." I replied.

She grinned and applied oil to my leg, lifting the leg so 
that the ankle was resting on her shoulder as she 
applied the oil.

"I enjoy having your hands touch parts of my body.  
Although this is a woman's body, I still have my old 
male desires.  To impersonate Carolyn in public, I will 
have to hide those desires.  But when I am in my private 
quarters with just you, I want to touch you.  To hold 
you.  To feel you touch me.  Is that wrong?"

Joan paused and said very quietly "No.  It is not wrong 
and it is part of the reason that I am here.  It was 
expected that you would have sexual desires that could 
not be initially satisfied by the President.  At least not 
immediately, until you become more used to being a 
woman.  The doctors recommended that a woman be 
selected that you could have sex with.  And I 
volunteered.  I am here to help you learn how to be a 
woman in many ways.  To learn what it is like to have a 
female body and how to use it to make love to a man or 
woman."

I took a deep breath and looked at her, with my leg up 
on her shoulder as she poured a little more oil onto her 
hands, and applied the oil to my inner thigh.

"I want to make love to you." I said.

She smiled and softly replied "Not yet.  You still have 
some more healing before that can occur.  But I can do 
this.  Just lie there and enjoy."

Joan placed her hands on my belly and resumed her 
massage of my oiled flesh.  But the massage method 
changed.  Where before, it was clearly a massage, this 
time was a sexual rub.

She let her hands glide quickly over my breasts, taking 
just a small moment to gently pinch each nipple. It 
caused a reaction from me as I took a deep breath from 
the brief electrical shock of that gentle touch.

Joan began working more and more on my breasts, 
alternating between deep, heavy kneading, and soft, 
gentle strokes.  She bent over and captured one of my 
nipples with her lips as her tongue flicked at the nipple 
tip barely within her mouth, causing me to groan and 
stretch.

As I reached for her head, to pull her closer, she jumped 
back and whispered "No.  You have to be a good girl, if 
you want more."

My nipple had hardened at Joan's gentle imprisonment.  
She bent over again and wrapped her lips around the 
other one as her fingers tweaked the still slightly damp 
nipple.

Within seconds, both of my nipples were both standing 
proudly, and my back was beginning to arch as I raised 
my body to meet her lips.

Joan pulled back and said "You are getting very wet 
inside, aren't you.  I can smell your musky, warm scent 
very clearly.  You must relax as much as possible and 
let me do all of the work.  Just relax and let me give you 
a hint of things to come, once you have healed more."

Her hands moved randomly over my slick body, 
rubbing, touching and finding sensitive areas that I did 
not know existed. As her hands caressed me, I realized 
how much I had missed having someone.  Someone to 
love me and to let me love her.

Joan returned to caressing both of my breasts, using a 
combination of her fingers, lips, tongue and warm 
breath.  It was  causing my body to tremble and my 
breathing to become more rapid.  As I laid there 
enjoying this, I realized that I had started moaning softly 
to myself as my nipples became more sensitive to her 
wonderful touch.

I had my eyes shut and almost jumped when Joan's lips 
touched my lips.  Without hesitation, I opened my lips 
and welcomed her slightly oily tasting tongue; as we 
enjoyed a long and wonderful kiss.

As we kissed, I felt her fingers drift off of my breast, 
down my belly and tickle my pubic hair.  I spread my 
legs, welcoming her, as my body shook with never before 
experienced sensations. I jerked from an almost 
electrical shock as her fingernails gently stroked the 
inside of my thighs.

My tongue was probing her mouth as we alternated 
being within each other's mouth.  I could feel her as she 
moved from massaging my thighs,  to where her hands 
were playing with my pubic hair.

I spread my legs farther apart, wanting her to help me 
explore that area.  When one finger found the vagina 
lips, I jerked again.  Joan sat up, pulling her lips away 
from me, as she looked at the area where I was going 
through the most wonderful sensations.

As she gently spread my vagina lips, I moaned and felt 
my fingernails dig into the sheets. When one of her 
fingers slowly entered into my vagina, I jerked and 
reached for Joan, but she gently pushed me back down 
with the other hand.

She slowly moved her finger inside, me causing me to 
arch my back as I experienced my first female orgasm.  
My body shuddered, my back arched and I wanted to 
scream at the top of my voice.  I would have, except 
Joan's other hand was partially within my mouth, 
keeping me from screaming from the pure pleasure. 

As my body slowly relaxed, I felt something else touch 
me.  Something that could only be Joan's tongue.  I 
grabbed her hair, holding her head as her probing 
tongue teased what had to be my clit. Within seconds of 
her probing, I was groaning in ecstasy. Joan repeatedly 
flicked her tongue across my clit, causing me to squirm 
and press her face deeper into my pussy.

Joan gave me four orgasms before she quit.

Chapter 5 - Presidential Erections

"....and I want to thank you very, very much for your 
deeply needed support during my recent illness." I said 
as closing statements to the audience.

As I stepped away from the podium, I felt relieved.  Over 
the last four weeks, I had been exposed to the public on 
an almost daily increasing rate.  This had been my first 
little public excursion, out of the White House, where I 
had been expected to say something to a live audience.  
As I looked around the filled auditorium, everyone was 
standing and applauding me.  I smiled, waved to them 
and walked off of the podium, surrounded by my Secret 
Service guards.

They quickly guided me through the back doors and out 
into my waiting limousine.  As I entered it, Joan, a male 
agent and Liz jumped into the limousine. Joan picked 
up one phone and started making her calls, concerning 
my security route; and Liz picked up another phone, 
calling the newspapers to make sure that my 
appearance was noted on page one of the newspapers.

I smiled as I relaxed.  I had not looked forward to giving 
that speech and was glad it was over.  The agent in the 
front passenger seat turned and said "Mrs. Dawson, the 
President just called to request a change in your plans.  
He wants you to join him at his luncheon on Capitol 
Hill."

I turned quickly and looked Harve straight in the eyes.  
My old buddy Harve is now on my security detail, 
instead of the President's.  Liz put down her phone and 
said "Great.  This will be a good opportunity to give an 
impromptu request to Congress for funding for the 
social programs that the President is supporting.  I can 
brief you on the issues by the time we get there.  Let's 
do it."

Joan paused in her discussion and looked at me.  Harve 
was still waiting for a decision and I was still looking at 
him, as if I had seen a ghost.  Then I said "Looks like my 
vacation is over and it's time to get back to work.  Go 
ahead."

Harve turned around and spoke some instructions into 
his microphone.  I knew from previous experience, that 
the agents receiving the instructions were probably 
cussing over this unplanned change in schedule.

While Joan finished her calls, Liz pulled out briefing 
papers and discussed key points of the topics that I 
would be expected to be reasonably familiar with.  By 
the time that my motorcade drove the twelve blocks to 
the Capitol, I knew what the key words were and what 
the priorities should be.

The motorcade pulled into the garage and up to a secure 
door that was already being guarded.  I was escorted 
into the Capitol and into a waiting area.  Joan looked at 
me and suggested "You might want to visit the restroom 
and freshen your makeup."

I nodded and she issued instructions.  Then I was 
escorted by her and Liz into the already secured 
restroom, while the other agents waited outside.

In the bathroom as I walked into a stall, I heard Joan 
said "Look, Liz.  Aren't we pushing her a little too soon?"

Liz gave Joan a nasty look, which she quickly covered 
up with her public smile as she replied "Nonsense.  It's 
been almost two months since the surgery and America 
wants to see her.  All she is going to do, is to walk into 
the hall, shake a few hands, and eat lunch with them.  
Then as she is leaving, she will say a few words to the 
group.  It's part of what she is expected to do."

I finished peeing, re-arranged my skirt, and came out of 
the stall.  I stepped over the mirror and looked at 
myself.  The image reflected back, was almost one 
hundred percent vintage Carolyn Dawson.

Except for the very short, boyish two inch length dark 
hairstyle, it was her.  The hair had hidden the scars but 
had not grown long enough yet to risk changing the 
color back to her more normal blonde color.  I was 
wearing a taupe blazer and skirt, with a white blouse, 
that had been in her wardrobe.  It was a little loose on 
me, because I had lost some weight while recovering and 
Joan was making sure that I didn't put the weight back 
on too fast.

My face had been made up for me by the White House 
beautician although I have learned how to apply my 
makeup.  I paused only long enough to apply some fresh 
lipstick and to blot it.  When I was finished, I turned 
around to see Liz and Joan waiting for me.

I nodded and they opened the door.  As I came out of the 
bathroom, the agents escorted me down the hallways to 
the room where I would be meeting with the President.

Since the surgery, he had left me pretty much alone.  He 
was gone most of the time, campaigning or working late.  
But I noticed that whenever he was working late, that 
Liz was usually not available.  Which I enjoyed, because 
I was not looking forward to being his loving wife.

I had developed a relationship with Joan, where she and 
I spent a lot of time behind closed doors in the White 
House.  After all, she was part of my therapy and was 
helping me learn how to be a woman.  While we had a 
standard lesbian relationship, she had started 
introducing me to some toys.  She was the dominate 
person and frequently used a double-headed dildo on 
me. 

As I entered the hall, everyone started standing and 
clapping.  The agents escorted me to the front table, 
where Reggie stood up to greet me.  As I approached 
him, he held his arms out for a hug and I stepped into 
his hug, giving him one in return.

As we separated, the other people in the room sat down.  
Reggie held a chair out for me and I sat down beside 
him as he pulled the microphone back in front of him.

"We were not sure that you could make it so we started 
eating without you because we have a lot of work to do 
today.  Would you like to say a few words?" he said as 
he pushed the microphone in front of me.

I adjusted the microphone and said "As you know, I 
have had health problems lately and am just beginning 
to feel somewhat healthy again.  But I am one of the 
fortunate ones because of my medical coverage.  Most of 
America is not that lucky.  Without going into long 
winded details, everyone here is aware of why we need 
to adopt a more comprehensive health care program for 
Americans.  If there is anyone here that does not know, 
then I will be glad to hang around and discuss those 
reasons."

When I paused, everyone started clapping as Reggie 
winked at me and pulled the microphone back in front 
of him.  A waiter stepped forward and placed a plate of 
cottage cheese and a pineapple wedge in front of me.  I 
looked at Reggie's plate and everyone else sitting at the 
table.  Everyone had steak and potatoes, but me.  As I 
looked up, Joan smiled at me, knowing that I wanted 
some real food.

******

It had caught me off-guard.  One moment, I was reading 
a paper that Liz wrote for me and the next moment, my 
staff was packing for a vacation.  We were going to an 
island to rest.

As I entered the beach house where we were staying, 
there was one fact very clear from the moment that I 
walked into the house.  There was only one bedroom 
and only one bed.  And the house would be surrounded 
by agents.  I would be expected to sleep in the same bed 
as Reggie.

Joan was not with me because at the last moment, she 
had been assigned to travel to San Francisco to prepare 
for a visit after the vacation.  After the staff finished 
unpacking and left me in the beach house with Liz, I 
said "What is going on here?  Why are we staying at a 
place with only one bedroom?"

Liz took a deep breath, put on the smile that I was 
beginning to learn, was a cover-up smile, and said 
"While you were sick, we were able to use that to gain 
rating points.  Now that you are almost recovered, the 
press are hounding us again.  We thought it would be a 
good ideal to report that the President and his First 
Lady were sneaking away for a romantic weekend."

"And it wouldn't look too good if we slept in separate 
bedrooms, would it?"

"Look, we both know that the President and you had 
martial difficulties before you got sick.  But things have 
changed. You should give him a chance.  After all, you 
are legally married to him.  And you do have a female 
body.  A female body that is capable of satisfying a male 
body.  And he has all the right body parts to satisfy your 
female body.  Do I have to beg you to sleep in the same 
bed?"

******

I had changed into a bathing suit and walked down to 
the beach.  My bathing suit was a purple bikini.  The 
top had a padded push-up top to add a full size to my 
breasts and the bottom was a scoop front bikini, with a 
full back.  A little risque for the President's wife, but it 
was in her clothes drawer and I liked the way it looked 
on me.  As I walked, five agents followed me, wearing 
their shorts and beach shirts with their pistols 
underneath.  I went in swimming and when I came out, 
there was a beach blanket spread out and an umbrella.  
Four of the guards were spread out over the shoreline 
and one of the guards was about twenty feet from the 
blanket.  It was Harve.

As I came out of the water, I tried to walk as Bo Derek 
walked in that movie 10, where she came out of the 
water so slowly, but excluding sex appeal.

I sat down on the blanket and said "How about a 
smoke?"

Harve replied "I don't smoke but I will see what the 
other agents have.  What do you prefer?"

"I haven't had a camel in a long time."

He turned around and spoke into his radio.  One of the 
agents stepped forward and handed him something 
before returning to his post.

Harve walked down to the blanket and held out a pack 
of camels and some matches. I bent forward so that my 
bikini top exposed more of my boobs as I leaned forward 
to take the cigarette pack.

As I took it from him, I said "Sit down and talk to me.  
Relax for a moment."

He held his cuff microphone up and said something as I 
removed a cigarette.  Then he sat down on the other 
edge of the blanket, making sure that there was plenty 
of space between us.  I turned and shrugged as I 
adjusted one of the bikini straps, knowing it was 
causing a gentle bounce and sway of my boobs.  For 
some reason, I wanted to excite Harve immensely. As I 
lit my cigarette, I could tell that Harve was trying to 
prevent himself from getting an erection. He quickly 
looked at the water to keep from staring at my half-
exposed breasts.

"Afraid that I am going to bite you?"

"No, ma'am".

"Turn your radio off for a couple of minutes."

He looked at me with a puzzled look on his face and 
then spoke into his cuff microphone before turning it 
off.  When I knew it was off, I said "Many years ago, I 
met someone while my husband was campaigning.  We 
did not have sex, but we used to talk a lot. His name 
was Jimmy Carlson.  What happened to him?"

"He died.  I understand it was a heart attack."

"Were you good friends?"

"We used to be."

"He was one of my few friends.  If I ever need a friend, 
can I count on you?"

"Yes, ma'am"

******

We sat on the beach and talked until Reggie's motorcade 
showed up about sundown.  While Harve loosed up 
some, he was still walking on eggshells trying to do what 
I was requesting while following very strict security 
orders.

When I walked into the cabana, Reggie was taking a 
shower.  I fixed myself a drink and sat down on the 
couch to smoke another cigarette.  I was really not 
looking forward to going to bed with Reggie.

He came out of the bathroom and saw me sitting on the 
couch, with my drink and camel.  He said "If a picture of 
you drinking and smoking winds up in the paper, we 
will lose three points in the next poll overnight.  It will 
spoil your Mrs. America image that we worked so hard 
to create."

"Sorry but I was just trying to get myself in the right 
frame of mind for going to bed with you.  What sort of 
personal image do you have of me?"

Reggie looked at the body of Carolyn Dawson and slowly 
said "The same image that I have had since that first 
day that we met.  You were an incredibly sexy girl, with 
beautiful long, blond hair bouncing up and down with 
every graceful step. Carolina sky blue eyes full of 
intelligence and when we were alone, they would be full 
of lust and wanton. Nice, firm, young tits with ruddy-
brown nipples, that barely swayed or bounced. Creamy, 
luscious smooth skin that stirred uncontrollable 
emotions inside me. A wonderful gorgeous body, kept in 
shape by dancing. Great legs that tantalizingly 
disappeared up under your skirt into that wonderful 
area between your legs. I could watch you all day, and 
never get tired of looking at you.  Back in those days, I 
got an erection constantly just by thinking of you.  You 
were a lady in public and my woman in our bedroom. 
And you only got better over the years.  While other 
women aged quickly and became grossly overweight, 
you have the same blonde hair, or will have when it 
grows back out.  You are slightly taller and a little fuller 
of figure, but that only makes you look more mature. 
Your boobs are still high set, firm with just enough 
slackness to dance and sway back and forth in gentle 
arcs when you move. Your smooth belly leads to broad, 
womanly hips and the best ass of any woman born in 
Carolina. Your shapely, trim, and long legs and thighs 
are strictly connoisseur material."

I put out the cigarette and said "Two months ago, I 
made an agreement, knowing that I would have to do 
some serious adapting to a very different world.  I have 
had time to do some serious thinking about this night 
knowing that I would have to deal with it sooner or later.  
I am prepared to approach it with an open mind.  I don't 
know what your previous sex life was like or what you 
expect from me.  Let me take the lead tonight and do 
what I am comfortable with."

I slowly stood and reached behind me, pulling on the 
bow to untie my bikini top.  As it fell to the floor, I 
reached out and took his hand, leading him back into 
the bedroom. 

As we entered the bedroom, he said "Quick detour to the 
bathroom."

While he was in the bathroom, I pulled off my bikini 
bottoms and laid on the bed.  I pulled a sheet over my 
waist to cover my mid-thigh to belly button area.

When Reggie walked out, he was naked and had a mild 
erection.  I slowly pulled back the sheet for him to reveal 
every last inch of my body. I reached out and pulled him 
down onto the bed, guiding his mouth to my mouth.

With my eyes shut and his tongue stroking and playing 
with my tongue, I could almost pretend that it was Joan 
that I was kissing.  Except for his much rougher skin 
and slight beard growth. We kissed for several seconds 
and I was beginning to enjoy it.

As we were squeezing closer together, he took my hand 
and guided it to his cock.  It was the first cock that I had 
ever touched except for my former body's cock.  Panic 
struck me for a moment and then I felt that now familiar 
wet and warm feeling inside as my female body started 
it's self-lubrication process.

I knew what I used to want in similar circumstances 
and had been practicing with bananas.  I shivered as I 
prepared to offer the ultimate sacrifice to my President.  
I delayed the moment by massaging his balls, tweaking 
and delicately pinching his scrotum, gently running my 
long slender fingers through his pubic hair. As he 
breathed heavily in my ear, his hot excited breath 
signaled me that he was more ready than I was.

He began playing with both of my breasts. He slowly 
squeezed them and I began to feel some of the pleasures 
of foreplay. I could feel the nipples expand and grow as 
he played with them, turning the tiny reddish-brown 
nubbins into hard, blood-filled large nubbins. As he 
played with my nipples, his wet, warm tongue flicked in 
and out of my ear as he nibbled my earlobe. It was 
beginning to feel so good that I surprised myself when I 
groaned a low moan of pleasure. With that signal, he 
quit attacking my earlobe and began suckling at my tits. 
This increased my excitement and made it easier for 
what I knew I was going to have to do next.

As I continued stroking his now full height penis, I could 
feel it throbbing and jerking within my hand.  I knew 
that he couldn't hold off much longer.  With a gentle 
push, I eased him over onto his back.

With one quick motion, I bowed my head and took his 
cock into my mouth.  I had been practicing this with a 
dildo strapped on Joan's body but the warm musky 
taste of a real cock is very different from a piece of 
plastic.

My mouth puckered into the standard O shape.  As the 
purple cock head entered my mouth, I almost gagged for 
a moment.  After taking a deep breath, I was able to 
suck my way down the rest of his shaft so that my 
mouth was soon stuffed with his cock. I gradually 
sucked his entire length into my mouth, until I felt my 
lips brush against his pubic hair. I had swallowed his 
entire cock. Then I concentrated on using my tongue to 
lick and lave every inch of flesh. As I rocked my head 
back and forth, I could see my saliva oozing down his 
shaft. The sac, containing his precious balls, was only 
inches from my eyes and I watched them slowly 
contracted and turn into a tight, hard sphere as I 
sucked his cock.

While I was doing this to him, one of his fingers had 
found my vagina and were playing with that narrow hot, 
humid crease between my legs. He had used my natural 
and flowing lubrication to lube another finger, which he 
was plunging between my tight anal muscles.  As his 
fingers played with me, I was having a hard time 
keeping his cock in my mouth because I was squirming 
and twisting.

I increased the suction on the very tip of his cock, my 
tongue moving  in figure eight patterns on the delicate 
underside. Then I felt the cock stiffen even more as it 
begin to expand. Then his cum exploded into my mouth.  
I took the entire stream, swallowed it,  and took the next 
spurt as it erupted.    

After the last of his jism trickled from his cock, I rolled 
over on my back and asked "How was it?"

"Not as good as most freshmen congressmen, but I 
wouldn't kick you out of bed."

 Chapter 6 - Honest Abe

As I laid there with my legs spread and Reggie licking 
away at me, I quickly reflected upon what I had just 
done.  I had sucked a cock and discovered that I enjoyed 
it.

But I didn't think about it for long, because his tongue 
was thrust up into my cunt, causing me to wiggle and 
moan.  His hands were squeezing my tits, alternating a 
brief touch of pain with long moments of pleasure. He 
began to rotate one in a counter-clockwise direction, 
while the other, he rotated clockwise as if he would tear 
them from my body. I bucked and continuously groaned 
as the carnal waves surged through my body, 
tormenting me and forcing me to beg for more. He 
massaged the nipples, tickling and stimulating my 
sensitive nubbins. I could see his cock began to strain 
and throb again.

When he rolled over on his back, I sat up and straddled 
his waist,  positioning my legs on each side of his body 
so that my hungry cunt was fully exposed to his rock 
hard cock. I rose up slightly, spread my cuntal lips and 
regained my grip on his cock. Feeling his cock push 
against my clitoris triggered an orgasm in me. He eased 
his red, swollen cock slowly into my pussy as I gradually 
lowered my still shaking body over his.

He eased only the head of his cock inside my hungry 
pink inner cunt lips, his entry gradual and excruciating 
torture for me because I wanted him to ram it in. As I 
recovered from my orgasm, he rubbed his cock against 
my clit and set off another round of shuddery, shaking 
climaxes in my body.

My passions were running wild now; I could not control 
my body as I experienced another very intense orgasm. 
Reggie used that moment to fill me with his cock.  I felt 
my inner lining slowly stretch and expand to 
accommodate what seemed like a huge male cock. As 
soon as it entered into my hot, velvet depths, I felt those 
muscles began to relax

When I recovered, I was covered with sweat and his cock 
was buried deep inside me.  I used my velvet-lined 
cuntal muscles to squeeze down on his humping cock. 
Then I began fucking him, using his cock to impale 
myself over and over.

My passions were unstoppable. I had another orgasm 
and heard Reggie groan when my internal muscles 
convulsed around his cock in a powerful vice. That was 
enough to set him off.  He spewed his cum into my 
hungry cunt, as I collapsed on top of him. 

We laid there for a few minutes, his limp cock slowly 
sliding from my still throbbing cunt.  Me laying on top of 
him.  His delicious cum mixed with my female honey, 
oozing down my legs.  The most important man in the 
world.

He rolled over and curled up to go to sleep.  I could have 
gone another round, but knew that he wanted sleep at 
this moment.  I curled up next to him, smelling his 
masculine scent so strongly.

I whispered "Did you enjoy it?" already knowing the 
answer, but wanting to hear him say it.

He groaned "Very good, dear.  Good night."

I reached around his waist and found his still wet, limp 
cock and started pulling on it as I said "I won't let you 
go to sleep until you tell me the truth."

He rolled over, kissed me on the lips and then whispered 
"It was the best that I ever had with Carolyn.  For all of 
her luscious body parts and public friendly personality, 
she hated sex.  She would only have sex with me on 
special occasions.  And would never let a cock come 
near her mouth.  I looked elsewhere to find what she 
would not give me."

******

He was gone the next morning, back to Washington to 
take care of some crisis.  Leaving me with a sullen Liz, 
who tried to blame her pissy attitude to her period.  Liz 
hung around for a couple of hours and then found an 
excuse for her to return to Washington.

I didn't care.  I felt full and very happy.  I just wished 
that Reggie had hung around another couple of days.

I had changed into a black bikini.  The top had the 
underwire top and the string bikini bottom was cut high 
on the sides.  I was lying on a beach blanket, soaking up 
the sun's rays as my armed escort guarded me. 

About mid-morning, I felt someone walking toward me.  
Without looking up, I said "Good morning, Harve."

"Good morning, Mrs. Dawson.  What are your plans 
since the President is not coming back."

I raised my head and said "Sit down and talk to me 
Harve.  Make sure that you turn off your radio."

He slowly sat down on the blanket, again keeping a very 
prudent distance from me.  I raised my sunglasses so 
that I could let him look into my eyes as I asked "Would 
you like to fuck me?"

"Beg your pardon?" he said, in reflex, knowing full well 
what I had said.

I whispered "The President is gone and I am staying here 
for the rest of the week.  Now, would you like to fuck 
me?"

"No, ma'am.  That is something that is prohibited."

I rolled over and grinned as I countered "Show me in 
your guidebook where it says that you can't have sex 
with me.  Or where it says that the President can't get it 
on with some of his staff."

"It's not that explicit, but the intent is prohibited."

"Harve, remember when I said that I needed a friend.  I 
want to know everything about Jimmy Carlson.  What 
you thought of him, why you had a fight with him, and 
why you think that he really died.  The President is gone 
and unless you want me slipping out at night, and going 
down to the bars to pick up men, you will find some way 
to spend some time with me tonight.  That is an order."

******

I had to push Harve harder and almost walked out of 
the compound before he agreed to sleep with me.  I don't 
know why I wanted to fuck him.  I guess that I realized 
that I was really a woman now, had woman sensations, 
and wanted to somehow share my new life with my 
former best friend.

He didn't sleep with me, because he was too scared of 
getting caught but he did hump me twice.  I didn't blow 
him, because he didn't give me the opporunity.  Once he 
was undressed, he became a raging animal, all hot and 
thrusting.  He couldn't wait to get it inside me.

Chapter 7 - One Year later

The strong strobe light momentary blinds me.  As my 
eyes recover, the photographer bows and leaves the 
room.  I watch Joan, who is my new Press Secretary, as 
she escorts him out of my office.  Liz, for some reason, 
decided to move on and I needed someone that I could 
trust.  It was a very nice promotion for Joan, but she 
deserves it.  I work her hard.

Since I recovered from my surgery, I have dedicated 
myself to a lot of worthwhile projects.  And have a very 
good success record.  Reggie is very pleased with my 
choice of projects, my success rate and the polls.  He 
knows that he owes his next election to my popularity.  
If I wanted to, I could run against him in the election 
and probably beat him.  But I won't.  I will wait until 
those four years are up and then I will spend my own 
eight year term, with him being the First Gentleman.

I walk back to my bedroom.  I still maintain a separate 
bedroom because I like to choose who I will spend the 
night with.  While Reggie and I sleep together on a very 
frequent basis, he is by no means my only lover.  Reggie 
knows about Harve and Joan.  And Lieutenant Dan 
Greenwood, my former motorcycle buddy.

Reggie got a little uptight when he found out about Dan 
because Reggie has slightly secret racial opinions about 
blacks and took it quite personal when I got Dan 
promoted and assigned to my personal security detail.  
He knew that I was sleeping with Dan and was hoping 
that it was a one time fling.

My hair has grown back out to an almost normal length 
and has been my normal color for most of the year.  I 
pin my hair up so that it will be out of the way and 
change from my normal business suit, into some 
motorcycle leathers.  As I put on my knee high 
motorcycle boots, I smile as I wonder if anyone will 
recognize the leather clad blonde riding the Harley 
motorcycle as the First Lady.  I grab my helmet, 
sunglasses and go to the limo, so that I can get a ride to 
where I am meeting Dan with the motorcycles.  We are 
going to ride out to the Shenadoah mountains and then 
stop off and drink a few beers in a biker's bar.

We have stopped off in the bar several times and they 
think that I am just some dumb sun-glassed wearing, 
black leather encased broad that happens to look 
familiar for some reason.  If they only knew who I really 
was.

The End.