It's true that I had become accustomed to drama in my f****y. My father was loud and mean, especially when he was d***k, which was most evenings and every weekend. He would back my poor mother into a corner of the kitchen and berate her, towering over her in that threatening way that I knew so well, telling her she was fat and ugly and stupid and spending too much money on me. He would get louder and louder until she finally began to tremble and sob – then he would storm out of the house in disgust, as if her crying gave him the right to leave his "silly emotional wife" and visit his drinking buddies.
Yes, I had become accustomed to this sort of thing, so I was amazed and confused when it suddenly stopped. One day he left and never came home. It seems there had been an accident. He had been killed. I shed tears, but not for my father. I cried because I was frightened, and because my mother was so upset. The day it happened, she discovered she was pregnant. She was alone with a 13 year old boy and another c***d on the way. She wept for days. I tried to console her, but I didn't know what to say. I didn't really understand.
Then one day, she was over it. I came home from school just as her insurance man was leaving. There was good news financially, we would not have to worry about money for a long time. Mother suddenly knew exactly what she wanted to do. She motioned me over to join her on the couch and put her arm around my shoulder.
"Honey, we're going to be leaving this awful place. We're going to live with Grandma in the country. Won't that be nice?"
"Will I be going to a new school there?"
"No, dear, I think we will try home school for a while. Do you remember, Grandma was a teacher before she retired? I think it will be nice for the three of us to spend more time together. Anyway, the k**s in the country can be rough sometimes. I think we all need some peace and quiet for a while, don't you?"
I figured that they were trying to make it up to me – losing Dad and all – because Mother and Grandma were so nice to me after we moved. They always called me "Sweetie" and "Darling" instead of my real name (Chris) and were so patient and gentle with me. I overheard them talking about it in the laundry room one time, so I knew I was right. Grandma said,
"The poor c***d has been exposed to a lot of roughness and ugliness, dear. He'll grow up to be rough and ugly himself if we don't introduce him to gentler, kinder ways. I want him to have the kind of c***dhood you had, honey. It's not too late for him to learn."
Mother didn't say a word, which seemed strange. But I liked what I was hearing. She was always talking about how happy she had been growing up. How much fun she and Grandma had doing things together. I didn't miss being chewed out and called names by Dad one bit – I felt safe and happy now.
Truth is, I had been a major disappointment to my Dad. I was small for my age, and very immature physically. In other ways, too, I suppose. He had always let me know that I wasn't living up to his expectations. He'd look me over with a withering glare and shake his head in disbelief. "Jeez, what a wuss," he'd say, and then get furious when tears welled up in my eyes at his cruel words.
Before very long, Mother began to have her morning sickness and other symptoms of pregnancy. Grandma made a big fuss about how she needed to get her rest and shouldn't overdo, and Mother seemed to enjoy the concern and attention. Mother was very affectionate with me – more than she had been for years, and I really liked it. We would sit on the porch swing together and she would sing songs to me, just like when I was little.
One day, while we were rocking slowly together in the swing, she held me close, took my hand and placed it on her tummy, and spoke very softly.
"Sweetie, you know that Mommy is going to have a baby, don't you?"
"Do you understand what that means? It means that a precious little girl or boy is growing inside of Mommy right now. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Yes," I nodded.
"Oh honey, it is so magical being a woman, having this miracle taking place inside of you. If you want me to, I'll let you know how it feels so you'll know what it's like to be a Mommy. Would you like that?"
"Yes, I really would!" She was almost whispering to me now, enveloping me in her arms. I felt so close to her.
"Would you like to help Mommy while she's having our baby, dear? I won't be able to do my usual housework, and it will be so hard on Grandma to do it all. Would you be willing to help her a little?"
I paused, and pulled away slightly. "Do you mean like cooking and cleaning and that kind of stuff?"
"She stiffened slightly and spoke less softly, "Now I know your father said that boys shouldn't do such things, but good boys want to help their mommies. Are you a good boy?"
I missed her soft voice and wanted it to return. "Yes, Mother, I am. I'll help. I don't mind. Really!"
"That's my darling! Would you like to start right now?"
My eyes widened.
"I don't mean housework, I mean helping Mommy?"
"I guess so."
"Will you brush my hair for me, honey? It calms me and makes me feel so much better."
I could feel my heart pumping and there was a hollow space in my stomach. She had never asked me to do anything like this before. I loved Mother's hair; it was very long and golden brown, with soft curls that banked and swayed when she moved. I loved it when her hair would accidentally brush across my face or my arm. But I never imagined I would be allowed to touch it. My excitement made me nervous.
"I…I guess so. But I don't think I know how."
"Oh, Mommy will teach you, sweetie. Or Grandma will show you. It will be such a great help for me if you'll brush it every morning and every evening. Would you like that?"
I swallowed hard. "OK."
We walked arm in arm to her bedroom where Mother sat on the stool in front of her dressing table. Grandma joined us with an air of anticipation, as if she knew this was going to happen. She helped Mother remove a barrette from one side and motioned for me to remove the other one.
"Now be gentle darling," she said, you don't want to tangle or damage your Mother's beautiful hair, do you?"
"Now, dear, spread her pretty curls across her back."
I was very stiff, as if her hair would fall out if I touched it too roughly. Mother noticed.
"Oh, honey, don't be afraid to handle it!" She turned towards me and playfully gathered some tresses and whisked them across my face. It tickled and I giggled. Then she pulled me close by her side and let the curls fall on the far side of my own head, so that in the mirror, it looked like it was my hair. Then she began to brush it on the far side of me.
I reached up and touched it, then smoothed it against my cheek. Grandma let out a little squeal of excitement. "Oh honey, you look just like your Mommy when she was a girl!"
I flushed with embarrassment, but Mother pulled me close, smothering my alarm, and then she got business-like.
"OK, enough horseplay. Let's start brushing my hair before it becomes a tangled mess!"
She and Grandma showed me how to brush in long graceful movements, starting at the ends and moving toward her scalp, smoothing with my fingers after each stroke. They had me count to 100 for each section of her hair – 500 strokes in all. In the end, her hair shone like nothing I had ever seen. I could smell its fragrance. I couldn't keep my hands off of it. Finally, I put my arms around Mother from behind and buried my face in it.
Mother exclaimed, "Well now, I think my sweetie likes my hair, don't you dear?" Grandma chuckled approvingly.
"Oh yes, Mother, it is so beautiful!"
"Then you will help me brush it twice a day?"
"Oh yes, Mother! Please let me!" I was completely intoxicated.
"Of course you can, honey. You do it very well, almost as well as Grandma. And if you want, I can show you how to make it into braids and pretty buns and up-dos. Would you like that?"
I was so d***k on her curls, I forgot to be embarrassed. "Oh yes, Mother, that would be lovely!" 'Lovely?' That's a word I never used before. But before I could cover my tracks, Mother said.
"You have been very sweet to Mommy, so now you can go out and play if you want."
Nothing was further from my mind, but I went just to break the spell a little. I stumbled around in the yard, looking at the fields and the sky, still reeling from my experience of my mother's beauty. Gradually, I remembered who I was supposed to be – a boy who had contempt for girlish things. My expression hardened; I tightened my jaw. I marched back into the house, determined to resist the perils of living with two women.
But as soon as I entered the house, my Grandma resumed the attack on my fragile boyhood. "Chrissy!" I hated it when she called me that. "Your Mommy says you are going to help me with the housework. Time to get started."
Her voice came from the kitchen – I followed it, determined to make my excuses, but she ambushed me as soon as I entered, thrusting my arms into a frilly apron. Before I knew what had happened, I was wearing it and she was behind me, tying the apron strings into a pretty bow. It was a light blue and white gingham, with white lace trim, and it was too large for me. The long and flouncey front made me look like I was wearing a dress. Mother came in as I turned to face Grandma and threw her arms around me.
"Oh! How darling! My old apron – the one I made in home ec when I was a girl! Mom, I can't believe you still have it! And honey, you are so sweet to wear it for me. You really know how to cheer Mommy up, don't you?" Her arms swallowed me and she began to weep a little. Still, I resisted.
"But Mommy… I mean Mother!" I couldn't believe I'd said that. I hadn't called her Mommy in years, but they had been saying it so much recently, I just fell into it.
Mother saw my embarrassment. "Oh honey, you can call me Mommy if you like! I think it's sweet. It makes me feel younger." And before I could say more, "Now dear, I want you to help Grandma prepare dinner. She's going to teach you how to do so many things, so you can help while I'm not feeling well enough, just like you said you would."
"But I never said I'd wear an apron."
"Of course you must wear an apron, dear! Housework gets messy sometimes, and I can't have you ruining your clothes."
"But it's so … girly."
"Is that what's bothering you? OK, sweetie. Next time we go to town, I'll let you pick out a nice new apron all for your own."
I pictured myself trying on aprons in public. "Never mind!"
Later that evening, it was time to brush Mommy's hair again. This time, I knew what I was doing and it was just as wonderful as before. When I'd finished, she gave me a big hug and a kiss. "Honey, you'd better go hang your apron in the kitchen before you go to bed, OK?"
I couldn't believe it – I was still wearing it! Hours after I stopped helping Grandma. Why hadn't I taken it off? I blushed with embarrassment. Mommy noticed, took me by the shoulders, and put me in front of the mirror.
"I don't know why you're so embarrassed to wear my apron, honey! Everyone knows aprons are just for keeping clean. And you look so nice in it, too. See?"
She smoothed and spread it over my shorts and it looked even more like a dress. Then she took her hair brush and touched up my hair a bit, to improve the effect. It dawned on me that I hadn't been to the barber in weeks. Not since Dad had died two months ago, in fact. It was beginning to cover my ears and felt funny. I swallowed and said.
"Don't you think I should get a haircut, Mommy?"
"I guess it has been awhile, dear. If you want to. I've kind of enjoyed seeing it grow out a little. You know, you have hair exactly like mine, sweetie. The same texture and color. It's a shame you can't wear it longer, but I understand. We'll get it cut tomorrow."
I looked at Mommy's shimmering hair and had second thoughts. My fingers still tingled from caressing it. It's fragrance still hung over me. I wondered what it was like to have such a heavenly cloud of softness swirling about my shoulders.
"Well, maybe it can grow a little longer, but not much."
"Whatever you say dear!"
As Mommy rubbed cold cream on her face, I lingered and stared absentmindedly at the mirror, one hand playing with my hair, the other spreading the lacy hem of my apron. Suddenly, I looked like a girl! Startled and scared, I raced out of her room to the kitchen and took off my apron, tossed it onto the peg on the broom closet door. I was breathing heavily, wondering if Mommy had noticed me preening in front of the mirror, just like a girl!
Home school with Mommy and Grandma was much more fun than regular school. I learned how to make things, how to cook, how to sew. I couldn't believe they were counting housework as schoolwork. There was a lot of reading to do, though. Grandma said that it was time for me to read all of Jane Austen's novels, and I really enjoyed them.
The three of us talked about the stories and the characters quite a bit. We even acted out some of the scenes. Every week, I had to write an essay on a subject she gave me. Like, "Describe Elizabeth Bennett's s****rs – what they look like, how each one feels about getting married, which of the men in the story would make the best match for them and why." One day, she showed me a paper doll book of fashions from the early 19th Century and we had loads of fun picking dresses and hairdos for the different characters.
As the weeks went by, Mommy began to show a little. One morning, after I had finished brushing her hair, she made me change places with her and started brushing my hair while she talked. It felt so good.
"Sweetie, I promised you that I would let you know how it feels to be having a baby. Do you remember?"
"Would you still like that?"
"Well OK, then. I am going to show you some things that mommies usually don't show their little boys. But you and I are so close, so it will be all right."
She walked me over to the edge of her bed and opened the front of her robe. I gasped at the sight as her enormous breasts fell into view. I couldn't believe it! They were huge, and the nipples so large and dark, almost like chocolate, but with a pinkish glow. My mouth popped open and my eyes widened. She laughed gently.
"You have seen them before, you know. You used to suck on them."
"I don't remember."
"I know. You see, honey, they are getting larger because they will be making milk for my baby to drink. Isn't that wonderful?" I nodded. "Here, feel them." She took my hands and placed one on each of her nipples. I touched them very gently, my fingers rigid. "No honey, I want you to understand what they are like, what they feel like." She put her hands over mine and cupped her breasts, kneading them softly. Then she moved my thumbs over the nipples and made me flick them slightly.
"They are very sensitive, honey. When you touch them like that, I feel little electric shocks through my body. Can you imagine what that feels like?"
"Can you imagine how it feels to have a precious little baby suckling on your nipples – to feel your milk flowing through them into her little mouth?"
"Yes." I kept fondling her breasts softly, almost reverently.
"Wouldn't you like to have a little baby drink from your bosom, too?"
"Yes." I was startled by my answer and pull my hands away. Mommy chuckled sweetly and reassuringly.
"Awwww! Don't be embarrassed darling. Of course, it's natural to wonder. And you are going to help me, aren't you? I mean with the baby? And you can watch when I feed her."
"It's going to be a girl?"
"I think so, yes. Would you like a little s****r?"
"Oh yes, that would be nice. I could brush her hair just like yours."
"Yes, you could. I'm sure that she would love you very much. Just like I do."
She tucked my hair behind my ears – it was almost shoulder length now – and kissed me tenderly. I went to bed and thought about her breasts, and our little baby to be.
The next night, after brushing her hair, I asked if I could see her breasts again. "Of course, honey." And she held them out for inspection.
"Do they ever hurt?"
"Yes, they do, sometimes. They can be very sore at times before the baby comes. And then, when I'm nursing, the nipples can get very tender."
"What do you do?"
"Well, honey, I have some lotions that help with the irritation from nursing. But there's not much I can do about them hurting when I'm pregnant."
"I'm sorry, Mommy. Would it help if I rubbed them?"
"No dear. It's just part of being a woman."
I didn't like to think about her feeling pain. She saw my frown and pulled me close.
"Awww, Chrissy! It's OK. You are so sweet to care about Mommy. I promise you that the aches and pains of womanhood are nothing compared to the joys. There is nothing more beautiful in this world than being a woman and a mommy."
I stood by her for a few moments, caressing her breasts, as if that could ease the pain after all. A strange mood came over me. I felt so close to Mommy, and a little sad – that I couldn't be closer still.
"Mommy, would you brush my hair for me?"
"Of course, darling. Sit facing the mirror."
I could see her sitting behind me, lovingly brushing out my locks. It felt wonderful – and I loved the fact that it was long now, like Mommy's. But it didn't shine as much as hers, or have as many curls. I knew that they did something at the beauty parlor to make her hair that way. I wondered what it was.
"Mommy, how come your hair is so curly and pretty and mine isn't? You said we have the same hair."
"You have lovely hair honey, but if you want curls, you'll have to get a perm or put it up in rollers."
I was silent.
"Do you want me to set your hair for you."
"No. I mean. That's not... I can't do that. Can I?"
"Of course you can! Why ever not? You have beautiful hair, you should enjoy it."
"But boys don't curl their hair."
"Boys miss out on a lot of lovely things. What's nice about the three of us living here is that you don't have to miss a thing. I think you would look wonderful with a nice curly hairdo. And I am very proud that you want your hair to look more like Mommy's. Will you let me see what I can do?"
"OK. I guess."
It was so exciting! She brought out some electric curlers and put up my hair with them. I couldn't believe how heavy they were, or how good I felt when all my hair was up. I had to see how I looked from all angles with the hand mirror – it really was exciting! I couldn't wait to see myself with curls, but Mommy said I had to be patient until the curlers had cooled or the set wouldn't last. Finally she took out the rollers and each ringlet bounced and swayed like a fine golden spring. I had to touch each one, unroll it, and then watch and feel it snap back into place. Then she brushed my hair into a very pretty style, with the curls turned under. They felt so nice against my ears and neck. She looked at me appraisingly.
"No. Too old for you, sweetheart." She brushed out the curls so they turned up just above my shoulders. "Now, that's what we call a flip. Much more appropriate for a girl your age." I was so thrilled by the look and feel of my hair, I didn't even notice what she called me. Then she got just a little serious.
"Now honey, this is just for fun, right?" I nodded. "So why don't we surprise Grandma." "What do you mean?" "Why don't you sneak into the kitchen and put on your apron. I scurried off and was back in a flash, wearing my apron. I couldn't believe how girly I looked in the mirror with my new flip.
"Let's go show Grandma! No, wait a sec." Mommy put a barrette in my hair and off we went.
Grandma was sitting in the living room when we entered. She took one look at me and broke into tears.
"Mom, what's wrong? Don't you think Chrissy looks nice."
Grandma replied, "Oh my dear, I think she looks absolutely lovely. It's just that… she looks exactly like you at her age. She could be your twin!"
I felt so proud! A little confused, but I couldn't stop smiling. "Really, Grandma?"
"Really, sweetie! Just exactly like your Mommy." I ran into her arms, beaming from ear to ear.
Grandma sprang to her feet and said, "Ladies, please follow me!" She led us upstairs, into the attic, which was full of chests and boxes. Mommy got wise. "Mom, you didn't!" "Of course I did! I have every shred of clothing you ever wore when you lived here, including dozens of things that I'm sure will fit Chrissy."
We spent the next two hours looking through piles of clothes. It was so much fun – I hadn't seen Mommy so happy in a very long time. I modeled each dress or outfit, and she showed me how to walk, how to sit, how to put on airs, just like a girl. Some of the clothes made me feel a way I had never felt before – very demure, together, pretty. I really liked it.
Mommy had a story for nearly everything I wore, a memory that came rushing back to her. When I wore a filmy pink party dress with a full skirt and puffed sleeves, she blurted out. "Oh my god, that's the dress I was wearing the first time a boy ever kissed me!" We all made wooooo woooo noises and laughed. I hunched my shoulders together and danced around, cuddling myself and swaying my hips. Grandma loved it.
"What was it like Mommy, the first time you kissed a boy? Did you like it?"
"Oh my yes, honey. I got all tingly and flushed. I didn't want him to stop."
I was so lost in the moment, in our happiness, that I just spoke without thinking. "I think I might like to have a boy kiss me someday, just to see what it was like. But I'd definitely want to be wearing this dress. It makes me feel so sexy and girly."
Mommy and Grandma looked at each other, and I felt embarrassed, but before I could worry about it, Mommy had whisked me off to try on another dress and some hats.
When we were all exhausted, Grandma helped me carry some of the clothes into my bedroom where they became "my" wardrobe, at least for the time being. I was so tired and happy – this had been the best day ever. Mommy picked out a pretty nightie for me to wear to bed.
"I remember this nightie so well, Chrissy. I thought it was so pretty, so grown up. Would you like to try it on?"
"Of course I would, Mommy!" I held my arms straight up and she let the soft nightgown trickle over my body. I loved how it felt against my skin as she smoothed away the wrinkles. She took me by the hand over to my full length mirror and made me turn around. I was too tired and contented to be surprised by what I saw – a pretty young girl, her hair in curls, her eyes shining, her body sheathed in satin and lace.
The next morning, it was my turn for tears. "Mommy, look at my hair! It's all gone flat and ooky!" "Welcome to womanhood, honey. If you want it to look pretty every day, you have to get a perm or you have to put it up in curlers!"
"Can I get a perm?"
"No, I don't think so, sweetie. Wait until you're a little older. Perms can damage a little girl's hair. Besides, I think you will enjoy setting your own hair and trying on different styles. I'll help you!"
"Thanks, Mommy. Ummm. Mommy?"
"Can I wear one of your old dresses today? Just to go with my new hair?"
"They're your dresses now, sweetie. I'll be there in a minute to help you get dressed. We'll need to choose some panties and stockings, too. And a slip. And some nice shoes. And a training bra. You're old enough for that now."
"Mommy, does this mean I'm …. a girl now?"
"It means you can be whoever you want to be. You do like being a girl, don't you?"
"I do, Mommy, very much."
"Well then, why not? At least for a while. I wonder if you can be like a real girl, like Mommy was when she was your age."
I really think I can Mommy, if you help me."
The next few months were the happiest of my life so far. Mommy was showing more every day, and the baby had begun to move. We shared so many "Mommy moments," as we called them, feeling the baby kick and planning for the birth, what the baby would wear, how her room would be decorated.
I had gotten so completely used to wearing girl's clothes all the time, setting my hair each night, and sl**ping in curlers, that I could barely remember my life as a boy. Grandma took me to town shopping with her, so I could get my ears pierced and buy my own dresses and things – and no one even suspected I wasn't a girl. I was so proud of that. Both Grandma and Mommy called me Chrissy now – I was their girl and so happy to be one.
As it got harder and harder for Mommy to move around, she enlisted my help in choosing her clothes each day and laying them out for her. I was so proud when she approved of my choices – and when she didn't, it was an opportunity to learn. My goal in life was to become just like my Mommy in every possible way. She said that I would wear her out with my questions:
"What does it feel like to have a period? What does it feel like to have a man inside of you? Is giving birth really that painful? How do you keep your skin so soft? What's the best way for a blue-eyed girl to use eyeliner? When can I get my nails done professionally? What does it feel like to dance in a strapless evening gown?"
But then one day, I became very sad. I was massaging Mommy's breasts – she said it relieved the soreness just a bit. She was really showing now, and we were so excited. But it dawned on me that I would never be a mother, could never nurse a baby, and that there was nothing I wanted more desperately in the world.
One evening, while I was brushing Mommy's hair, I saw her reflection in the mirror, stroking her swollen tummy. Her eyes were closed and she looked so sublimely happy. I was so jealous that I couldn't hold it in – the tears just gushed from my eyes.
She embraced me and said, "Precious girl, what's the matter??
"Oh Mommy, I want so much to have my own babies, to nurse them with my own breasts, to be a complete woman just like you. But it is impossible."
"Remember, dear, not all women can have babies. Being a woman is a matter of heart and mind more than body. You are a darling girl and can grow into a lovely, happy woman if you want to."
I was inconsolable. "But I want to be a mommy, too." I was blubbing now and couldn't stop. Mommy ran her fingers through my curls. She caressed me and rocked me, but nothing could lessen my pain. We sat together for some time in silence, except for my sobs.
"Darling, it is probably true that you will never give birth. But I promise you this – you will be like a mother to the little girl inside of me. You'll be my little helper."
"But I can't nurse her, or…"
"Oh yes you can, sweetie. We will both nurse her – we will take turns. I will get some medicine for you right away that will change your body. You'll grow breasts just like mine. And I have a breast pump that you can use right away to get your milk ready. Our little girl will have two mommies – and four breasts to choose from!"
"Can I really have breasts, Mommy? Can I really nurse my baby?"
"Of course you can, sweetheart! I promise."
The next morning, I overheard a heated discussion at the far end of the house. What I heard made me heartsick.
Grandma was furious, "You are going to give hormones to your son? Dear, you can't do that. It's wrong! And it's i*****l!"
"But Mom, you've seen what a little woman he's become. She's my daughter now."
"That was the plan all along wasn't it?"
"To soften him a little, yes. To get his father out of him. But you've seen how readily he waltzed into womanhood. This wasn't our doing, Mom; this c***d was meant to be a girl. You should have seen her yesterday, heartbroken because she can't be a mother and nurse her own babies. Chrissy could never be a man, never!"
"He wants to be a mother?! What does he know of womanhood? Has he ever had a period? Has he ever had a penis inside of him? Granted, he's the biggest little sissy I've ever seen. He'll probably be gay or something, but you can't play God here. You can't decide his future for him. So far, it's only been a little playacting. In a few months, his beard will start to grow, his voice will change, and his penis will start making his decisions for him."
"That's why I have to start the hormones now, before puberty sets in. Trust me, he is meant to be a girl. He will have the operation someday. I know my c***d."
My mind was a whirl as I listened to all of this. But when Grandma said that I would soon grow whiskers and turn into a man, I felt nauseous. Then I felt faint. Apparently, I passed out, because the next thing I knew, I was on a couch and they were both fussing over me. Grandma spoke first.
"I'm so sorry honey, you weren't meant to hear those things. I love you so dearly, and I do love you as my little granddaughter. I just don't want us to make a horrible mistake."
I remembered what had upset me so much and started sobbing. "Grandma, Mommy, PLEASE don't let me turn into a man. Please give me the hormones. Oh please!!!" I became hysterical, and I may have passed out again, because I don't remember anything before nighttime, when Mommy came to tuck me in.
"Sweetheart, I know that this afternoon was very upsetting to you. But your Grandma is a wise woman and we need to consider what she says." "No…" "Now calm down, honey, and hear what we have decided. I believe that you were born to be a woman, to be a mother, as far as that is possible, but we have to be sure. Grandma was right to say that you should know more about who you are before we make irreversible decisions. You need to know who you will be – and whom you will love – before you lose your options. So we're sending you back to school – as a girl – for a while – to see what happens. But you have to be honest – with us and with yourself."
I was afraid, but something told me she was right. I decided to give it a try. Besides, I was curious what it would be like to be around other girls, and boys.
As it happened, I couldn't believe how quickly I fit in with the girls. The first day at the bus stop, a girl my age smiled at me and said, "Hi, I'm Sally. Your hair is really cute." I chimed right up, "Hi, I'm Chrissy. You're so sweet! You hair looks cute, too, and I love your top.." And we were off to the races. By the end of the first day, I had made several new girl friends and was even invited to a sl**pover.
The boys were a different story. It may have been mixed feelings from my days as a boy, but they made me feel uncomfortable. I pretended to like them when I talked with my girlfriends, but I didn't really. I thought they were gross and acted silly. But I wanted desperately to convince my Grandma that I was meant to be a girl, so when I noticed one of them checking me out, I decided to flirt back. He noticed, and just before I got on the bus Friday afternoon, he asked me out to the football game, which in 7th grade means that he wanted to meet me there after I arrived and hang out with me.
I'll admit that I was very excited when I got home. I called all my new girlfriends and told them about it, and they all assured me that my date was cute, but that I should be careful because he had a "reputation." Mommy helped me do my makeup before we left for the game, and I was really nervous. I must have asked her and Grandma fifty times if I looked pretty, and I kept fixing and re-fixing my hair. Yep, I was definitely a regular girl, I thought to myself. And I could see in Mommy's eyes that she thought so, too.
It was already nighttime when I arrived at the game, and no sooner had I found my date than he hurried me under the bleachers, where it was dark and all sorts of things were going on. All I could see of him were bars of light that cut through the seats above us and slanted across his face. They made him seem older and a bit deranged, but sexy, too. Before long, he was kissing me, a bit too roughly, but I liked it and I kissed him back. When he started fumbling with the buttons of my jeans, I knew that he was going someplace I couldn't let him go. Mommy would have been shocked to know that things could go so far so quickly. I was enjoying this, but I knew I would be in danger if he found my thingie in my jeans instead of what he expected, so I said no.
He was angry, of course, and tried to make me feel guilty, so I would give him what he wanted, I guess. "God dammit! You can't get a guy all worked up and then slam the door in his face!" "I know, I'm hot, too, but I just can't. How about if I jerk you off?" "I can do that myself! Good grief! The least you can do is blow me!"
There was something very exciting about the flashing lights, the cheers above us, the groping hands. I could make out some other girls around us, doing their guys, just like me. I wanted to be one of them – one of the girls. I started breathing heavily – I wanted him! I felt a thrill – I really was a girl! About to service my man.
I fell to his knees and fished out his cock. It stiffened in my hand as I started licking the head. I loved the shape of it – it seemed to fit into my mouth so neatly. It tasted salty, nice, a little dry at first. But my saliva made it smooth and wet and my lips moved easily over it, back and forth. I started to moan, just like a slut, I thought. I really felt like I was a slut, and I loved the feeling. I felt so sexy and girly and grown up. I loved the way he was playing with my hair and rubbing my shoulders. Then I was amazed to find my mouth full of semen. It was pulsing into me like a water fountain, warm and gooey. I swallowed it all as he tottered and swayed, like a boxer about to go down for the count. When he was done and recovered himself, he gave me a little spank on my tush and said, "OK, baby, I'll see ya later," and left me alone in the dark.
I followed a couple of the other girls to the restroom – the lights were so bright that they hurt my eyes. When I looked in the mirror, I couldn't believe what I saw. My hair was a mess and my lipstick was smeared all over one side of my face. But I couldn't help smiling. I was a woman, just like Mommy. Just like the other girls in the restroom. I repaired my makeup and brushed my hair into shape. I liked what I saw, even in the harsh light, and grinned triumphantly at myself. I wondered how I would ever tell Mommy about the proof of my womanhood, but I knew she would believe me if I told her that I like boys, because it was true.
My thoughts were s**ttered by the voice of a girl next to me, looking me eye-to-eye in the mirror. "Your first blowjob?" "How can you tell?" "You're too pleased with yourself. And I'll bet he didn't do anything for you, did he?" "I feel satisfied." "Only because it's your first time. When the novelty wears off, you'll want more. A lot more."
I wasn't sure I liked what she was saying, but I did want to talk about it, so I introduced myself. "Hi, I'm Chrissy. I'm new, in more ways than one, I guess." "Lisa is my name, nice to meet you. You want to go get a coke?" "Sure."
We went to the concession stand and then walked around the football field, chatting away. The more we talked, the more I liked her. She was very pretty, with short dark hair and enormous eyes. I loved her smile – she looked so sweet and innocent. Very different from her usual expression, which was just a bit world weary for one so young.
Eventually, we worked our way under the bleachers on the opposite side of the field – just as dark, but nobody was around, so we sat and talked some more. I asked if she had a boyfriend. She said not anymore. "In fact, I think I've gone off boys, at least for now." "You mean you're…" "Don't knock it if you haven't tried it, Chrissy. Believe me, I wouldn't have left you alone at a football game if you were my date."
I suddenly realized that I was very attracted to Lisa, and knowing that she was probably attracted to me, too, made me hungry for her. I gave her a meaningful look and said, "But I'm not alone anymore."
She reached over and brushed my hair away from my cheek, and moved her face near to mine. And then she kissed me, her soft lips tasting of lipstick; her tongue exploring my mouth for a second, then leaving me wanting more. She stroked my hair gently, caressingly, then laid me down on the wet grass. I could smell her body lotion, and I ran my hand over her dark hair, a bit sticky with mousse. I felt a warm tingle in my chest, spreading like honey to my fingers, my lips, my groin. I felt wonderful., excited beyond words, but at the same time so relaxed I could scarcely move. She kissed me so sweetly. It was something I knew I wanted more than anything.
And then I felt a shudder of pleasure in my groin and I realized my panties were wet. I had had my first orgasm. My nipples were hard and erect. She ran her fingers over them, plucking them gently. I remembered how small they were for a girl, under my cutlets, and I recoiled a bit. She read me: "It's OK, honey. You're young, they're small, they'll grow. I think you're beautiful."
Then all at once her hand had slipped into my pants and she was fondling my moist organ. She started and I froze. "My, that is one of the larger clitties I've come across!" I was petrified and breathless, half expecting her to hit me. "She felt my terror in the dark and spoke softly, "It's OK, honey, I like both girls and boys, but girls more. I'd say you're a girl and a boy, but more a girl." "I'm planning to be even more of a girl, soon." "That's nice, Chrissy. I hope you'll be my girl." She kissed me and I melted, so relieved and so happy.
As we walked together hand in hand to the parking lot, I realized what a fool I had been earlier. THIS felt right; this was what being a woman was about for me. This was home! But how to convince Mommy and Grandma that the discovery of my lesbian desires was proof of my womanhood? I decided they had to meet Lisa.
As she drove me home from the game, I told Mommy about the wonderful "boy" I had met. His name was Larry. I described how sweet he was to me, and how much I enjoyed it when he kissed me. That he had asked me to be his girlfriend and how much I wanted to be. That I felt so safe and warm with him.
Mommy nodded knowingly, a soft smile on her face, and she reached over and stroked my forearm and thigh as she drove. "Oh honey, he does sound like a nice boy. I hope you will introduce him to us sometime." "I will, Mommy. How about tomorrow?"
"Larry" was coming to dinner and I was so excited. Mommy and Grandma kept teasing me about how nervous I was. I wanted to look pretty for Lisa. It had been dark at the game and I didn't want her to be disappointed in me. But when I took the rollers out of my hair, my curls were flat! I was desperate! Only an hour before she came and I looked like a mess. Mommy found me in the bathroom, crying my eyes out, trying to make my hair look like something.
"Come with me, dear. Do you remember my electric rollers? We'll get your hair looking pretty in no time!" And she did. Mommy gave me a very sophisticated looking style. And then she helped me get my makeup just right. I felt beautiful, and so grown up. I couldn't wait for Lisa to see me!
When she arrived and said hello to Mommy and Grandma, you could have heard a pin drop. I didn't dare breathe. Lisa was wearing black jeans, sandals, and a black tee-shirt. I think they thought she really was a boy at first, but then they noticed her curves, her tiny diamond earrings, the touches of makeup. And then she moved toward them and spoke, and there was no question she was all girl. There was something androgynous about her, but she was too pretty and too delicate in her movements to be taken for a boy for very long.
I blushed when she looked at me and smiled. "Chrissy! I love your hair! You look great!" Involuntarily, I reached up and primped my curls, "Thanks Lisa, I'm glad you like it. Mommy helped me with it." "Well, you can do my hair anytime, Mrs. Jones! You did a beautiful job." "Why thank you, uh…" "Lisa. And you must be Grandma?" I was so pleased that things were going well. The four of us were chattering away in no time.
With great effort, Lisa and I kept our hands off each other, except for the innocent touch on the arm and girlish hug now and then, and pecks on the cheek when she turned to leave. But Mommy wanted to know more. "So, Lisa, you and Chrissy are a couple?" "I hope so, Mrs. Jones." "You don't act like a couple." It was the first awkward pause of the evening. Finally I spoke up "Mommy, we didn't want to upset you and Grandma." "Listen, honey, we weren't born yesterday. If this is who you are, we can accept that. But we have to know that you are being honest, with Lisa, with us, with yourself."
Another pause. Then Lisa stepped toward me. "Mrs. Jones, may I kiss your daughter goodnight?" Mommy nodded. Lisa wrapped her arms around me, ran her hand through by hair, down my back, and placed it on my tush. Then she pulled me close and kissed me deeply, her tongue working its way into my mouth. I almost swooned. In fact, I did lose my balance, but Lisa kept me from falling. When she released me, I felt flushed and giddy. Mommy came over to me and touched my little nipples through my blouse – they were as hard as pebbles. I was just a little embarrassed and I hid my face behind Lisa's shoulder. She took my chin in her thumb and forefinger and gave another kiss, a tender kiss, and turned to leave, waving goodbye to Mommy and Grandma. I felt so dreamy, still a bit wobbly, and let out a long sigh as I blew a kiss to my darling. Mommy smiled and said to Lisa, "Now don't be a stranger dear. You come visit whenever you like."
That night, while I was putting my hair up, Mommy came in with a glass of milk and sat on my bed. "Lisa is very nice, sweetheart. I think she will be good to you." "Oh, I know she will, Mommy. She's all I can think about. Do you think we can go shopping tomorrow for some new clothes? She liked the grown up look you gave me, and I'd like to get some new skirts and dresses, something a bit more up to date than what I have. I really want to look nice for her. Always." I finished putting the last curler into place and turned to Mommy expectantly, hoping she would say yes. Mommy laughed gently. "My, you really are the girly girl, aren't you? Of course, honey, I could use some new clothes myself. We'll make it a mother-daughter shopping day." I felt so exited! "Now get a good night's sl**p, darling. We've got a big day tomorrow."
Mommy stood up to leave, but then remembered something. "Oh honey, I almost forgot. Grandma and I have decided you can start taking your medicine tonight." She gave me a tiny blue pill, and the glass of milk. "You'll take one of these each morning and each night. Now don't let me forget to give them to you!"
I inhaled and held my breath. I couldn't believe it. "You mean… these are the pills that will give me breasts just like a real girl?" "Yes darling, and they'll make your skin softer and give you curves. You'll look much nicer in your clothes after a few months." I was so happy I started to sob. "And that's not all, sweetheart. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to show you how to use a breast pump. Our baby girl is due at the end of next month, and I'm counting on my daughter to help me with the nursing, right?" "Oh, yes, Mommy, it's my dream!" "Well, you may not be able to help right away, but a few months of these pills and regular pumping and you'll be Mommy's little nanny helper."
I cried myself to sl**p that night – tears of joy. It seemed that I could feel the medicine racing through me already, alerting every cell in my body that it was time to change into a girl cell. It was time for a reality check – here I was, lying in my bed on the brink of womanhood, wearing my own nightie and panties, my lovely long hair in curlers, the girlfriend of someone I really loved and who really loved me. It was all so wonderful! I just couldn't believe that only seven and a half months ago, I was living the life of an unhappy boy, browbeaten by his nasty father.
The breast pump hurt my nipples the first couple of days, but then I grew to love it. Six times a day for 20 minutes each session. Mommy took me out of school again. She said it was home school from now on and my most important subject was "mommyhood." She said she was so pleased that I took my pumping seriously. "I was afraid you would find it boring, that I'd have to push you to do it." "Oh no, Mommy, I love it! My breasts have become so sensitive – and it's like my nipples are connected by invisible strings to my clittie. I feel my insides shifting and pulling up within me, as if I have a baby moving inside of me. And I imagine that I really am nursing. It is so beautiful and it feels so good!"
Sometimes, Lisa would come over and sit with me while I pumped. She would sit on the arm of my chair, and play with my hair or kiss my cheek while I pumped. It made me feel loved and protected and so womanly. When I finished pumping, my nipples stuck out like steeples and were unbelievably sensitive. Lisa would squeeze them gently and then suckle them. Oh my, that felt wonderful. I wished that my milk would let down for her, but I knew that day would come. And my breasts were definitely growing. I had to show each new millimeter to Mommy and my girlfriend. I felt so womanly when Lisa cupped them from behind, nuzzling the back of my neck. I wanted them to just grow and grow. I just loved having breasts – when I wasn't pumping, I was fondling, massaging, pulling on my nipples, wishing I could fill a bra like Mommy.
Sometimes they got sore – from my pumping and massaging, or from my hormones – or all three. When they hurt, I still couldn't keep my hands off of them. Sometimes, I'd just sit in the bathroom, sobbing away, rubbing my boobs. I always seemed to be crying these days. Mommy said it was the hormones mostly. She was always crying, too. Sometimes, all we had to do was look at each other and we'd both burst into tears. It was so funny. We'd fall into each other's arms. I told Mommy that my breasts hurt. She said, "Mine do, too, honey. I guess we're both getting ready for baby!" I was so proud to be experiencing the same things as Mommy. As her baby became ever more active, she let me hold her tummy, so I could feel it, too.. Sometimes, we'd lie together in her bed wearing our nighties. I'd turn on my side and embrace her swollen belly and pretend it was my swollen belly.
After six weeks of pumping my breasts and taking my medicine, I seemed to be on Mommy's schedule physically and emotionally. Like her, I had gained a lot of weight – fortunately in just the right places, but it depressed me that I couldn't wear some of my prettiest dresses. I was worried that Lisa wouldn't like me any more, now that I was getting fat, but she said she loved my new curves and she would pinch my fleshy bits or grab handfuls of me and kiss them until I believed her. There was something nice about how soft my body had become, and how curvy, and I loved how big and jiggly my boobs were getting. It seemed that I needed a bigger bra size every week.
One evening, I felt tired and a little weepy. "I've finished pumping my breasts already, Mommy, I think I'm just going to put my hair up and go to bed early." "No, honey, Grandma and I have a surprise for you tonight. Don't set your hair until later. Just go to your room, put on your nightgown, and make yourself as pretty as can be. We'll come in your room in a little while."
I couldn't imagine what they were up to. Why should I doll myself up, but get into my nightie as well? Obviously, they weren't going to take me out anywhere, but then why did I need to fix myself up? I wondered all these things as I styled my hair, freshened my lipstick and eye shadow, and spritzed myself with some perfume. Then I lay down on top of my bed and waited for the surprise.
At last, Mommy and Grandma came in. They pulled chairs up on either side and sat close by me, each of them taking my hand.
"Darling, Mommy's going to have her baby very soon, and I want you to be a part of it. You are going to nurse her and help me take care of her. And you are going to help me raise her, too, teaching her how to be a good little girl. That will make up for those years of girlhood that you missed. It will be such fun. But we want you to experience as much of what a woman does when she becomes a mother as possible."
"Oh Mommy, I feel so in tune with you already. Sometimes, I could swear I feel the baby moving inside of me. And I just know that I'll have plenty of milk for her."
"Yes, sweetie, but you don't know what it's like to conceive a c***d. That is an important part of the miracle – to know what it is like to be a woman being made love to by a man. We want you to share that experience with us, too."
I thought about the boy under the bleachers. I didn't want to experience that again. There was something exciting about sucking his cock and having his tongue down my throat, but I didn't really want to go there with Mommy and Grandma in the room.
Mommy said, "Just trust us, sweetheart. This will be a beautiful thing if you let us show you how."
She helped me stand up and took off my nightie and panties. She put a lovely ruffled open-front robe over my shoulders, then laid me back down on the bed. Mommy sprayed some more of my perfume on my almost naked body and around the room. Meanwhile, Grandma brought several candles and placed them on shelves and my dresser. Then she lit them all, turned off the lamp, and both of them resumed their seats beside me. They pulled gently at my nipples with their finger tips and stroked my breasts and body, as if they were washing me without soap and water. Mommy reached over and gently arranged my hair on my cheeks and shoulders.
Grandma said, "This is your initiation into womanhood, darling. You will experience a miracle that has been shared by countless girls just like you on their wedding nights for thousands of years. Your Mommy and I are going to guide you through it because you have found your true self so recently. We want to make sure that you understand it all and experience it all as a woman should."
I was startled to realize that Lisa was standing at the doorway, wearing a long dark purple robe. About all that I could see in the dim light were her beautiful face and her hands, with dark red nail polish. Then she opened her robe in front, and I saw her lovely white breasts and abdomen – and a large strap-on dildo! I was flabbergasted, terrified, thrilled! Involuntarily, I pulled my knees up, effectively spreading my legs to receive her.
Grandma was pleased, "Ahhhh! It's her instinct. She really is a woman. She's ready to take her first penis." Mommy added in a high tiny voice, overcome with emotion, "And I'm going to share my daughter's first time! Oh honey, don't be afraid' you will be one of us as never before. A woman, just like Mommy."
I was thrilled by her words and hungry for Lisa to enter me. I began to lick my lips and gyrate my pelvis slightly, without even being aware of what I was doing. Grandma was right, it was instinct.
Mommy stood up and applied a large dollop of KY Jelly to my anus. She thrust her finger deep inside of me to spread the goo, which made my mouth and eyes open even wider. I was even more anxious to feel the approaching cock inside of me. At last, Lisa climbed onto my belly. She positioned the head of the dildo at my sphincter – my vulva, I felt and believed. She made tiny little thrusts to work the jelly onto the shaft and to coax me to open for her. She looked at me and gave a little whimper – she was afraid of hurting me. Grandma went to help her. She took Lisa by the hips and gently guided her into me. It was gradual, and I was relaxed and ready. A little painful, but more pleasure than pain. I felt full and, somehow, complete in a way I'd never felt before.
Slowly, Lisa began to move in and out of me, back and forth. As she saw my pleasure, she increased the speed and the depth of her thrusting. It felt better and better. And when she grabbed my tits it began to feel wonderful. She began to squeeze and pull at my nipples and I began to moan. I reached for her hips and pulled her deeper into me. I began to move my head from side to side. I could feel my earrings bouncing on my cheeks. It made me smile to think how ready I was for this – how right it felt.
Lisa wasn't tentative anymore; she was into it completely. She was fucking me for all she was worth. Faster and faster, deeper and deeper. I thought nothing could feel more amazing, but I didn't know that I hadn't crossed the threshold yet. Suddenly, my breasts and then my whole body and then the whole room exploded with light and energy and joy! I screamed out loud "I AM A WOMAN!!!!" I said it over and over, faster and faster, as if I needed something to keep my mind on so I wouldn't pass out. I definitely did not want to pass out!
Then something else completely unexpected happened: I began to thrust in unison with Lisa, without even trying to! My hips were responding to her humping automatically. "There," said Mommy, "Now you've found it! Now you're a woman! But there's more."
There couldn't be more, could there? I could barely stand the pleasure already. My whole body was moving and jerking in time to our passion. But there was more. Mommy leaned towards me and whispered in my ear.
"You can feel it inside of you, reaching deep into your womanly soul. It slides in and out of you. Now! Feel yourself sliding over and under it. You are feeling pleasure, now know what it is like to give pleasure, too. Concentrate on caressing the penis with your vagina. Grip it firmly in you. Give it pleasure."
It was a subtle shift, but made such a difference. I was the pleasure-giver, I was the lover. I was in charge. I understood what it means to give oneself to a lover.
Mommy read my thoughts. "It is only when you give yourself completely that you can receive completely. That is the moment of conception. That is when you become Mother."
And it happened. Every cell of my body shuddered and shook and shouted for joy. It didn't matter what medicines or operations were in my future, I became a woman at that moment. Nothing was ever the same again. I was reborn.
Lisa fell into the bed beside me, as spent and transformed as I was. She, too, had given herself completely, and had received everything in return. We held each other, and cried, and laughed, and kissed each other deeply and tenderly. Mommy and Grandma were sobbing, too, caressing our hair and rubbing our shoulders.
I slept that night in Lisa's arms, and never more soundly. Which was good because, the next day – the baby came early!!! It was so exciting – Grandma, Lisa, and I were with Mommy in the delivery room. I held Mommy's hand the whole time and felt every cramp and helped with every push, or so it seemed. I was as exhausted - and as happy – as she was when our precious little girl was born.
Mommy glowed with happiness as she held her little girl, and I felt like my face would split open if my smile got any wider. It was so nice – just the four of us girls, and the nurses, and the woman doctor. So many sighs and awwwws and happy tears. I was so glad that Grandma and Mommy had given me their gift the night before. The birth and the new baby seemed to mean so much more to me, now that I understood where she came from.
Mommy gave me one more surprise. "So, Chrissy, what do you want to name your little s****r?" I wasn't expecting this at all, but I was so pleased. I was really looking forward to sharing her girlhood with her, and showing her just how lucky she was to be born a girl in the first place. Somehow, choosing her name was like christening her as a member of our feminine world.
I hadn't thought about it very much, but the name just rolled off my lips. "How about Jessica Ann?" "Oh yes, what a pretty name that is, honey! Jessica Ann she will be!" "That's the name I would have liked, if I'd been born a girl, too." My voice broke a little. Mom wiped a tear from my cheek, "Aww sweetie! I'm so sorry." I gathered myself and said, "I don't know where that came from at all. Anyway, I'm all girl now." I turned to baby Jessica, "And we have our work cut out for us, don't we precious?" We all laughed in agreement. Lisa put her arm on my shoulder and kissed me on the back of my neck.
It was so exciting, having a new baby in the house. So much to do, and so many new joys and wonders! I was so happy, I didn't even mind changing diapers. But I was also jealous of Mommy being able to feed Jessica. I pumped and pulled at my breasts, I pleaded with them. But no milk. "It will take time, sweetheart," said Mommy. "Don't be discouraged. Your milk will come in soon." "But the baby needs it now!" "Now listen, I believe in a long nursing period. I nursed you until you were almost three, and I don't see any reason to do differently with Jessica – just look how you turned out!" I couldn't help smiling, but I was still so frustrated.
One night, when baby started crying, I was the first to get up to comfort her. She wouldn't be comforted, so I knew she was hungry. Quickly, before Mommy came to feed her, I opened my robe and gave her my breast to suckle, hoping… It felt so wonderful, having her attached to me like that, but nothing came and Jessica was soon crying again. Mommy arrived and scooped her into her arms and gave her suck. I watched with wonder and envy as the milk flowed freely into her, some of it moistening baby' lips. Mommy saw how fascinated I was, and how sad.
"Would you like to try some, honey?" She offered me the other breast. I knelt beside her and started nursing. It tasted so warm and sweet, familiar somehow. I closed my eyes and pulled closer to Mommy's bosom. I felt comforted. For a moment we were quiet together, Mommy and her two girls. When I finished, I said "Thank you, Mommy, that was wonderful." "I loved it, too, honey. But if I'm going to feed you, too, I will need your help feeding baby!"
It was a joke, but it hurt. Why couldn't I nurse? Maybe Mommy was wrong – maybe the medicine I'd been taking wouldn't work this wonder after all.
Two weeks went by and our whole lives revolved around baby Jessica and her needs. Mommy was exhausted, I could tell, and I finally convinced her to go into town and have her hair done, just for a short break. There was some pumped milk in the fridge, and I promised her Grandma and I could watch the baby.
She'd barely been gone five minutes when Jessica started screaming. She hadn't been feeding well, but she was ravenous now. I took her out of her crib and sat with her in the easy chair, calling to Grandma. "Would you please warm me a bottle for her, Grandma?" "Of course, dear." A pacifier kept Jessica more or less quiet while we waited. I looked at her beautiful eyes and little round head and was filled with love for my baby s****r. I just couldn't believe how much I loved her, how much I wanted to take care of her.
When Grandma arrived with the bottle, she had a surprised look on her face and put the bottle on a table out of my reach. "Grandma! I can't reach it! Would you please…" "Darling look! The front of your dress! Your milk has come in!" She was right! I hadn't even noticed, but the front of my dress was stained with two large dark spots where the milk had leaked from my nipples.
"I don't believe it! Yesterday, some yellow stuff oozed out of them a few times and I was sure it meant I couldn't nurse. I was afraid to say anything – I thought they were infected. But this is different, Grandma!" "Oh honey, that was colostrum – it meant your milk was ready to let down. Here, take down the top of your dress. She wants you."
It seemed to take forever to unzip the back of my dress and get out of my sleeves and pull down my bra, but then I saw my nipples oozing milk, and I saw baby gobble me into her mouth and calm down completely. She was nursing!!! I was so happy, I started weeping for joy. Grandma used a wash cloth to wipe my cheeks and my other nipple until I was ready to change sides. My dream had come true!
Fifteen minutes later, Mommy came home and found me still nursing. She was so pleased and, I think, proud of me. I know that I was proud of myself! But I was a little troubled by something. I felt so turned on! Like I was about to cream in my panties.
Mommy caught my eye and understood when I sighed a little, and rolled my hips slightly. She smiled reassuringly, "Oh yes, honey, it can be a very erotic experience. Why, you gave me more than a few orgasms in your day. Why do you think I nursed you for so long?"
Well, that made me laugh out loud, which jiggled my tits a little, which made me have my first nursing orgasm right then and there. Mommy and Grandma knew what was going on and looked knowingly at each other. I blushed the same color as baby Jessica's cute little bottom. It was so funny! And, somehow, very meaningful, too. Having an orgasm as a woman being penetrated by a penis was a watershed in my life, but being brought to orgasm by a baby suckling at my breast was more deeply gratifying than I imagined it could be. Another precious moment to fold in my heart and keep forever.
Being a woman is just sooo wonderful! ;).