We still haven’t had sex since the incident.  Every time I go to touch her she seems foul.  But the instinct is still there.  IDK why but one morning to try to get whatever advantage I get dressed up before I come home, even the heels with the strap that she thinks is so sexy.

She smiles at me when I come home and says, Have a good time, dear?

Uh-huh, I say, managing to make my voice sound pleasant.  IG2 talk to you, Dana.

Sure, she says, confident she will have the upper hand in whatever conversation we are going to have.

Look, I say, sitting down close to her.  I cant…I cant compete with men since i’m not a man any more so…I’ll come right out with it.  Dana, I’m going to get transgendered.  I’ve already been taking hormones long enough for it to have a profound effect.  All I need is to schedule the surgery.

Why?  She says, running her palms gently over my newly waxed legs and giving me an erection.

You say you prefer women?

Exclusively women.  But I don’t mind if they have a dick.

Well I can compete with other women for you if I’m fully a woman.

I like you fine the way you are, honey, she says.  You don’t have to do this unless you really want to.  And I don’t think you do.

I feel myself losing control.  I say, Well I got to do something.  Things cant go on like this.

No they cant but this isn’t any solution.  If you will just go to bed with me everything will be fine.  You never had a problem that couldn’t be fixed by taking you to bed.

Once that was true.   But now I cant get this image of her out of my head.  When I thought of her as a dirty lesbian that was fine.  It was even hot.  But now I see her as a stinking trollop that will fuck anything.

Come on, Fanci, she says.  Come to bed.  Take everything off but those new shoes.

I break down and cry and she holds me and tries to comfort me but I am inconsolable.  I can barely stand her touching me.  When I look over at a framed picture of us just after we were married and I was a man it sets off another fit of crying and she rocks me and softly baby talks me for after all, we are all  strangers.  All of us.

I still have a sex drive though.  When she is gone I spend time in front of the mirror putting on makeup and when I am done I get an inspiration.  I lie on the bed on my back and hold the mirror in front of my face.  I touch myself and watch my face respond and think how pretty I am.  The excitement builds to climax and I whimper and moan until I am done and then get up and clean the mess.

Of course I feel like a pervert but I have to do something.


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