The Training of a Transsexual

THE TRAINING OF A TRANSSEXUAL…PART 3

                                                                       BY MISS PISS

       Six weeks after Isabelle asked me to live with her, her girlfriend, and this Frenchman named Victor, I was already packed and ready to move into my new home. I had all the emotions that anybody has when leaving their maternal nest and building an entirely different one: a state of empowerment, excitement, urgency, nervousness, and fear. And on top of that, this nest wasn’t going to be completely mine to call my own. This gave me a sense of comfort and relief when thinking about the financial part of it, but as a whole, it was deliciously mystifying and yet scary at the same time. Living with Isabelle has always been a dream of mine. We are so beautiful together that we could make the perfect wifey and wife. I didn’t know anything about Mia and Victor. Other than knowing how much of a kinky mistress Mia was from Isabelle’s story, and being told that Victor is French, I had no idea who these people were. Later I was told that Mia was 28 (4 years older than Isabelle and me) and Victor was 26. That was all. In those six weeks, I never saw a picture, received a phone call, or learned anything new about them. It was agonizing; I wanted to know more. Isabelle wouldn’t tell me anything except “I want you to get to know them in person.” Why was she trying to keep their identities a secret? This made my mother awfully suspicious. I knew deep down she was aching inside. Even though she was happy for me, and trusted Isabelle like family, she feared that my other two housemates wouldn’t see me for who I was: a woman. Instead they’d see me as some freak show, a transvestite, an adult man wearing a dress and some makeup and thinking he’s some blonde Audrey Hepburn. I reassured her that it was the last of my worries. I remembered Isabelle telling me that Victor knows a little about me. I assumed that anything she has told him, she has told Mia as well. What Isabelle had told them was also a mystery to me. I didn’t have the courage to ask. Isabelle knows everything about me, my secrets, my fantasies, my dreams, and my desires. I trusted her to not reveal anything too personal about me to Mia and Victor, but deep down, I was nervous as hell. What do they think of me already? Do they already perceive me as a freak show, a transvestite? Will they accept me for who I am? So many thoughts and questions ran through my head. But soon the day arrived at last. I was going to finally meet Mia and Victor three weeks before we actually moved in together.

       I was ecstatic and nervous beyond belief. I wanted to look and feel perfect. I wore my casual attire: black high-heel shoes, a shimmering vintage yellow top with a black skirt, a black silk garter, and fishnet stockings. It was a beautiful evening. The temperature was 75 degrees and the sky was starry and clear with the glow of the moonlight. We were to meet at Delilah’s, a restaurant/stripper club that Isabelle and I have gone to since our senior year of high school and during our college days. It was a decent place to just dance and party, eat some good food, have a few drinks, and get a lap dance from one of the strippers for $10. Nothing fancy, nothing wild or over the top. The lighting was nice and dim, the atmosphere comfortable and mellow, almost giving off a jazz club kind of feel. The music played there ranged from hip-hop, trip-hop, dance, disco, and classic rock. The people that came here were eclectic: young school boys, who had just turned 18, lesbians, gays, married men, single men, and drag queens once in awhile. That night had the same mix of people, many of whom are regulars, including myself.

        I reserved a table for four, sitting down and waiting impatiently. I looked around at all the people, wondering if any of them were the two strangers I’ve been waiting to see.

        Fifteen minutes later, Isabelle and Mia appeared, hand in hand.

       “Stella!” cried Isabelle once she saw me, running into my arms with Mia still at her side. She gave me a tight hug.

        “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.”

       “Not at all,” I replied. “I just got here.”

       “Good, good,” she smiled, looking at her sweetheart. “Well, here’s the lady you’ve been waiting to see, my wonderful girlfriend, Mia.”

       Instantly I was mesmerized by the sight of her. There was one word that described her: stunning. She wore a forest green, flower patterned dress that reached five inches above her knees. It beautifully brought out the color of her hazel green eyes, which captivated you at first glance. What magical, hypnotic eyes she had. The dress also showed off her light and natural muscle toned legs and arms and revealed just enough cleavage at the top to make male heads turn. Her breasts looked to be in the C-cup range. It was so full and bouncy that you couldn’t help but be impolite and stare at them instead of her face first. It was impossible to not glance at her backside as well. For a petite girl, she had such a round, plump ass. I could imagine any guy in the room staring at it and thinking, “Damn, I’d love to fuck that.” Her straight and luxurious dark, auburn red hair was tied up in a bun with a green ribbon, which was tied in a girly bow. That and the bang on the side made her look adorably cute and sassy. She stood about 5’6.” She had a small baby woman face that didn’t show any signs that she was 28. It looked like she was going on 16. She didn’t wear much makeup, just mascara and a light shade of ruby red lipstick. Her skin was pale, but not a sickly pale. It was fair and glowing. Her cute little nose and perky full lips topped off her overall attractive, strange, and childlike aura. Even before she spoke a word, I could tell that she had a seemingly raw innocence about her. She was shy and introvert, smiling too much to hide her bashfulness. And yet you could sense that she was far more mature and experienced than how she looked in the face. Her sparkling, hazel-green eyes yearned to reach out and invite one into her soul. Raw horniness glimmered in those eyes too. Maybe I noticed it because I knew a little about her sexual side. Based on how the men and even some of the women in the room stared at her, lustful and envious, they could also sense and feel her raw sensuality as well.

       “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” said Mia, giving me a light hug and a peck on each cheek. Her voice sounded foreign. Her English wasn’t broken; she was very fluent in the language. Her accent seemed like a mesh of accents from places she has traveled, but I couldn’t tell exactly. It was interesting, soothing, and inviting all at once.

       “Isabelle has told me so much about you,” she smiled. “I’ve been anxious for this day to come!”

       She and Isabelle sat side by side in front of me at the table.

       “You’re telling me,” I chuckled. “I hope Izzy has told you good things about me.”

       “Of course,” she beamed, her eyes smiling.

        I noticed that she rolled her r’s like the Spanish and Italians.

       “She tells me that you’re fun and sexy, I can already see that she’s right.”

       I laughed, blushing and feeling suddenly shy. I was just stunned at how fucking hot Mia and Isabelle looked together. They were the hottest bisexual couple that I’ve ever seen. My cock lightly throbbed in my panties with the thought of watching them dance later in the evening after we’ve eaten and had a few drinks. I imagined them making out passionately, naughtily sliding a hand up each other’s dress on the dance floor, tickling each other’s pussy through their panties, squeezing each other’s juicy ass cheeks, and then heading towards the back of the room or to the bathroom to have a quickie fuck session with any naughty toy, or vegetable even, that they hid discretely in their purse. I could imagine them panting and moaning loud enough to make every man in the room go to the bathroom and masturbate because they could smell the strong, yummy odor of their horny cunts; there was no way that their ears could not hear the lovely sound of their orgasmic groans. My cock throbbed in my panties thinking about it.

       “If you don’t mind me asking Mia, where are you from?”

       “I’m from Iceland.”

       “Iceland!” I gasped. “Wow, are all girls in Iceland as good looking as you?”

       “In my honest opinion, not really,” she winked, giggling. “Nah, they’re all beautiful and sexy in their own way. Thing is, most Icelanders look the same, blonde hair, blue eyed, pale skin. I’m one of the very few odd ones who stand out with my hair color and my eye color. Funny thing, I dreamt and thought that my little boy would come out the same as me, but instead was born with blonde hair and blue eyes. He obviously got it from his father and the rest of my family.”

       “You are a mother?” I was stunned.

       “Yes,” she nodded. “My boy Oskar is twelve years old now.”

       She searched through her purse and took out her wallet, showing me a photograph of her son. He was a smitten image of Mia in the face. He had his mother’s skin tone and her full lips, icy silver blue eyes, and short blonde hair. He was a handsome young boy who wore glasses that made him look nerdy and cool at the same time. You could imagine that he would grow up to be one of those guys that girls adored and admired, but he would be too shy and sweet to approach them romantically and sexually.

       “Aw, he’s beautiful,” I smiled. “You must have had him very young; you look way too young yourself to be a mama.”

       “Well, yes, I had Oskar pretty young. I was sixteen and my boyfriend was seventeen. It was a shock because we only dated for four months. But at the same time, being so young, I was like ‘great, another person, yay!’ And our families didn’t care. Both Thor, Oskar’s father, and I had four brothers and four sisters, so we were surrounded by children, and we had lots of family support with our parents, aunts, and uncles helping us raise him. It was all wonderful.”

       “Is your son coming to live with us?”

       “Oh no, Oskar is living in Iceland with his father. I visit them once a year for Christmas. I think we’d be a bad influence on my boy if he lived with us.”

       We all laughed. I was already very attracted to Mia. She was hot, sexy, cute, and full of surprises. I never imagined ever meeting an Icelandic person in my life, let alone knowing one who was dating my sweet Isabelle. I was already horny enough by the fact that I knew that she could sure fuck my Izzy’s brains out, even at that moment if she wanted to. When she told me that she was a mother, I had an instant hard-on. She must have looked so fucking hot when she was pregnant with her round plump belly taking over half of her body. I bet she was still the sex raging demon during her pregnancy. Fucking through morning sickness. Fucking through cramps. Fucking through the good and the bad sides of carrying a child. What a lucky bastard Thor was to bang a woman like that, got her knocked up and probably fucked her brains out from the day their boy was conceived to the day he was born. I was envious of him and I didn’t even know him and had just met Mia. I wondered what happened between them, the reason why they separated. I wondered if it was because she was a handful, a bundle of raw untamed kinky sex that was too much for him to handle. I wondered what he thinks of her being in the USA and having an American girlfriend. I wondered how he has told their son that mama is a bisexual and is now dating a woman. I could imagine that their son understands because he loves his mother. I hoped he loved his mother to death just as much as I love mine.

       “Victor will be here in a few minutes,” said Isabelle, who was on the phone with him while Mia and I were chatting with each other.

       “Hehe, you will love Victor, Stella,” Mia grinned.

       “What does he look like? I really want to know!” I begged.

       “He’s very handsome,” replied Isabelle. “He’s 5’11,” has long and rugged brown hair, brown eyes, and a nice body, not muscular or well-built, just all slim and natural. He has a heavy French accent but his English is very coherent. And he wears glasses.”

       The way Isabelle described Victor produced a school girl grin on my face. I loved how she stressed the physical attributes that I liked in a man: a slim body, long hair, and wears glasses.

       “What is he like?” I grew the more and more anxious and curious.

       “He’s funny, passionate, polite, suave, romantic, quite the lady’s man.”

       I felt attracted to him already.

       “I have a very important question to ask…I’m not sure how I can put this into words...”

       Mia looked at me and said almost in a whisper, “Are you wondering what he thinks about you being a transsexual?”

       “Yes!” I blurted, relieved that this amazing woman had read my mind.

       “Well, he didn’t know what ‘transsexual’ meant when we told him. After we described who you are, he was a little bit confused, but he wasn’t turned off. So, let’s just say that he wants to know what you are all about.”

       I bit my lower lip.

       “That’s making me a little bit nervous. I hope he’ll like me.”

       “Of course he will!” Isabelle cried. “And speak of the devil…”

       The man I was waiting for suddenly appeared. He crept from behind Mia and covered her eyes with his hands, shouting “Salut ma chère Mia, ma belle fille islandaise!”        She laughed as he playfully bit down on her neck, afterwards giving her pecks on each cheek twice. He went to Isabelle and wrapped his arms around her shoulder, kissing her cheeks as well. My first thought was “fuck, what a gorgeous man!” He was everything that Isabelle described him to be. Yet before my eyes I saw more than just that. He exuded romance, sex, and seduction without seeming too full of himself. I loved that heavy French accent. It made my heart melt. I loved the way he dressed. Polished black shoes, a casual blue shirt, and a black jacket that matched his black pants. His overall presence lit up my eyes; I was instantly seduced by his exuberance and energy.

       “Ah, and you must be Stella…” he smiled, holding my hand and kissing it. “Enchanté.”

       “Merci Monsieur… enchanté…” I blushed.

       “Ah, you know some French eh?”

       “Un peu,” I replied. “Not a whole lot really.”

       “Ah…” he nodded, still holding my hand. He was exploring me with his gorgeous brown eyes. They were non-threatening, gentle, and sweet. They made my knees shake. I was nervous and trembling inside my body. I couldn’t tell if he was admiring me or judging me. I tried not to break a sweat.

       “Are you really a man?” he said bluntly. At first I was shocked and taken aback. I almost wanted to smack his face. But how could I smack a man like that? He kissed my hand again and cooed, “Because you sure fooled me. You’re very beautiful…Stella....”

       I was speechless. My heart fluttered. Tears almost welled up in my eyes. I never had a man tell me I was beautiful before, let alone a complete stranger telling me face to face.

       “That means a lot to me to hear you say that,” I replied.

       He smiled and sat next to me. Already I was feeling at home with Mia and Victor. All my anxiety suddenly melted away. I was finally free. We ordered a few glasses of merlot, mixed drinks, appetizers, and our main course. While we waited for our meal, Mia and Isabelle decided to go to the dance floor. Victor and I stayed at the table, enjoying our merlot while watching the two of them out there. They were dancing to Jimi Hendrix’s “Foxey Lady.” 

       “What a nice coincidence that they’re dancing to this song of all songs,” laughed Victor, sounding a tad bit tipsy after his third glass of wine, but remaining suave and cool. Even tipsy, Victor looked so fucking cute.

       We stared at them dancing. They looked so fucking hot and horny. Mia had her back faced to Isabelle, shaking those nice hips and rubbing that voluptuous ass against her crotch. Isabelle moved her hips side to side, dancing along to the beat and rhythm of the music while she slapped her hand on Mia’s ass, caressing it and squeezing it publicly with no shame. She slowly lifted up Mia’s dress. I caught a glimpse of her green thong and the plump cheeks of her ass. It was only for a second, but fuck, what a sight. Isabelle kissed Mia, sliding her tongue into her mouth. They kissed for a few minutes. Then Mia turned around to face my Isabelle. She kissed her deeper and pulled her hair. I couldn’t hear through the music, but I believe Isabelle gasped with shock and pleasure. 

       “Mmm…” Victor moaned. I quickly glanced down at his crotch. I saw the bulge in his pants grow right before my eyes. I gulped, keeping my eyes back on Mia and Isabelle.

       “They’re going to go to the bathroom and fuck before the food gets here,” said Victor, his voice sounding a tad bit deeper. “Watch.”

       They kept on dancing, grinding their hips against one another. Then, as both Victor and I suspected, they began to creep through the crowd and towards the ladies room. I couldn’t help it; I stared at his crotch as quick as possible. His bulge was huge. Victor began to laugh hysterically.

       “Oh god!” I gasped. “I didn’t mean to!”

       “What are you talking about?” he slurred, continuing to chuckle.

       “I…um…”

       He was so tipsy that he didn’t even realize that I was staring at his crotch for more than five seconds. I sighed with relief.

       “Sorry, you must think I’m going mad, laughing at two hot chicks who’re about to fuck in a public restroom. It’s just that it gives me déjà vu.”

       “How so?” I asked.

       “Did Isabelle or Mia tell you how we met in the first place?”

       “No, they didn’t.”

       “It’s a funny and pathetic story really, you’ll find it absurd. It happened about a year ago. My girlfriend Catherine and I went to a New Year’s costume party at this club that she always harped on about. Let me tell you first a little bit about Catherine. I loved her. I loved her more than any girl I had ever met, despite the fact that she was a lying, cheating bitch. She has always been afraid of commitment and has cheated on me many times throughout our relationship. She has even got knocked up a few times, but always aborted the baby, so who knows if one of them were mine or not. Anyways, I was so love drunk, submissive, and stupid that I didn’t care about her past.

       I was going to ask her to marry me during that party. Things seemed perfect. She and I went to the party together, laughing and having a good time. I was dressed up as the phantom from Phantom of the Opera and she was my enchanting Christine Daae. She also invited a friend of hers who’d meet us there. His name was Tom. I despised Tom because I always caught him checking out Catherine. Now, I’m not a jealous freak. It turned me on when guys checked Catherine out because I knew that they couldn’t have her no matter how much they looked. But with Tom, I was intimidated by him. Not because he was tall, dark, handsome, and muscular. He was actually quite unattractive, frail, too skinny, greasy black hair, looked like some drugged up slime ball. Somehow he always got any girl that he desired. I kept my cool though during the party when he came. They were just chatting about whatever, didn’t have a single drop of alcohol. As long as Catherine was clean and sober, she wouldn’t cheat on me. She hadn’t cheated on me for 8 months. So I was fine and I trusted her.

       Later during the party, she told me that she and Tom were going to go outside to smoke a cigarette. I let them do their thing. I wasn’t going to follow them or stalk them; I’d feel too guilty and ashamed to go that far. Deep down in my gut, I didn’t trust her with him. But I waited. I sat by myself on a couch, drinking some wine. Glass after glass I drowned in sorrow. She still hadn’t come back; forty-five minutes passed. I was sorta drunk, I admit, and too fucking lazy to look for her sooner. I just sat there, looking like a fool. Then Mia and Isabelle appeared. They were dressed up as Playboy bunnies, completely drunk, crazy, and as usual, horny. They both plopped down on the couch next to me, on top of each other, making out madly, their breast falling out from the top of their outfit. I just looked at them, grinning and not believing what I was seeing. Isabelle looked at me and gasped ‘Oh! We didn’t see you Phantom!’ I replied ‘I like your nipple ring, bunny.’ And she said ‘My baby bunny here did them for me.’ They introduced themselves to me and I introduced myself. Then I said ‘You two are hot lesbians’ and they stated that they were bisexual. Casually I asked ‘May I feel your nipple rings, you both have them I see?’ They both jumped on my lap, their breasts facing me. I squeezed them; teased their hard pierced nips with my fingers and with my teeth, and flicked my tongue against them and swallowed them into my mouth, each one at a time...”

       Victor closed his eyes, moaning deeper. I could see part of his member protruding through his pants. It looked quite thick and long. I kept my composure, thankful that he couldn’t notice my boner with the skirt I was wearing.

       “Yeah…it was nice…making them gasp and moan with pleasure as I played with their boobs and nipples. I forgot all about Catherine and that dickhead Tom. I was just too drunk to care. Plus, I was giving two hot and horny girls a fuckin’ orgasm; any guy would forgot the world if they were in my situation! I was so lucky. 

       After playing and sucking on their boobs for awhile, I had to go pee. I stood up and accidentally went into the lady’s bathroom. I unzipped my pants quickly and pulled out my dick as soon as I got there, opened one of the stalls, and began to piss before I could even see that somebody was there. Yeah you guessed it, it was Tom and Catherine! He was fucking her in the ass! She was wearing a diamond pink collar and he was holding onto the chained leash, fucking her like the bitch that she was. I peed on Tom’s ass, haha! He was startled, turned his head, and glared at me. He grinned and grunted, continuing to fuck her ass. Catherine was scared shitless. She was moaning ‘Fuck Victor, what are you doing in the lady’s room!’

       I was shaking, my blood boiling. I felt faint and wanted to collapse. I was almost in a panic. That’s when Mia and Isabelle appeared. The instant they saw the scene, they almost began to run away, but I grabbed them and said ‘Hello my bunny friends, that’s my girlfriend, Catherine.’ They were wasted and speechless. I slurred ‘You’re witnessing a special day today ladies. I’m going to ask my girlfriend to marry me tonight!’

        Mia laughed hysterically and shouted ‘Another guy is fucking her in the ass! And you’re going to do that, you idiot!’ What the hell, I thought. This was going to be the last time I was going to do it.

       I took the box out of my pocket, opened it, and cried ‘Catherine, will you marry me!’ I did cry. I was crying like a baby. That Tom kept on fucking her ass, pounding her harder and harder. She kept on moaning harder and harder. Again I shouted ‘Catherine, will you marry me!!! I love you!!’ Tom groaned ‘I guess that’s a no fucker.’ He laughed at me like a villain. I growled ‘Oh I will show you who the fucker is…’

       I dropped the ring, grabbed his ass, spread his cheeks wide, and crammed my dick into his asshole. I pounded him harder, rougher, and faster than he pounded Catherine. He screamed as if I was stabbing him in the back. Catherine screeched as if I was murdering him. Isabelle and Mia fell on the floor laughing. I turned my head as I pounded that fucker in the ass and smiled ‘What do you think ladies? Who’s the better ass fucker, me or him?’ Isabelle chuckled ‘Frenchman always do it better.’ I told Tom ‘Yeah, you heard these sexy bitches; French do it better don’t they?’ Catherine shouted ‘Stop it Victor! Stop it!’ ‘Oh don’t worry my dear,’ I moaned. ‘I’m not gonna waste my seed in his ass. I just need a place to piss since you’re blocking the fucking toilet!’

       I pissed in his tight ass. He screamed ‘Oh man, you’re fucking sick, you sick frog!’ I laughed and shouted ‘What’s sick is that you probably pissed inside your mother!’ I pounded him one last time, and then pulled out. Tom immediately pulled out of Catherine. I punched the fucker in the face and pushed him to the ground, punching him again and again until I broke his nose and left him there whimpering. Catherine’s face was in the toilet; she was going to vomit. She was bent over doggy style still, her ass slightly gaped. I stood up and cried ‘Oh baby, is that the best he can do? I gaped your ass wider than that more times than you can count…’

        I wanted to fucking kill the girl. I was so angry. I also wanted to hold her and embrace her and kiss her, make her all mine again. But I knew it was over. My love for her died. All I saw was a slut with a gaping asshole, fucked by an asshole. I was crushed, but I had to show my respects and say goodbye, and I did it the best way I could think of during that moment. ‘Well, my dear,’ I slurred, spreading her ass cheeks and stretching her gape with my trembling fingers. ‘What are you doing Victor!’ she screamed. I picked up the engagement ring from the floor and inserted it into her asshole, and I said ‘Now you’ll always remember me every single time somebody fucks your ass…’ Then I limped away, feeling a heavy weight anchoring down my entire mind and body into the depths of my despair. Mia and Isabelle held me up and helped me lift up my boxers and zip my pants. They walked me out of there and we escaped from the party all together. We were very tired, wasted, confused, and laughing hysterically over what just happened.

       We went to Mia’s apartment to celebrate the New Year instead. We had no more drinks. We smoked a little, ate a little, and talked a lot before the clock struck midnight. They reminded me of my sisters in France and my American stepsister who lives here; they’re fun, lively, entertaining, and smart. And by far, Mia and Isabelle have been the most generous Americans that I’ve met since I came to live in this country. They nurtured me that night from my pain. Despite what had happened, when the clock struck midnight it did feel like it was going to be a happy new year. Because of their love and companionship, a month later I was healed. I got a new job as a journalist for the local newspaper. I made really good money. I was myself again. I dated again too, just for fun, romance, and the pure pleasure of sex, and nothing more. I was happy and fulfilled. I no longer needed one woman in my life, no desire to marry anybody. Life was good. It got even better when Mia and Isabelle asked me to live with them. God, I love them to death. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be here. I would have probably killed myself over Catherine. But here I am, alive and well and happily single!”

       “Fuck…” I said. “Victor, you went through a lot of shit.”

       He nodded and chuckled, “C’est la guerre.”

       “Also, that’s the most fucked up story I’ve ever heard in my life!”

       “Yeah,” Victor laughed. “Literally! But hilarious, no?”

       I laughed. We both laughed. A few beads of tears were in my eye. I felt sorry for poor Victor. Just to imagine such a sweet, kind and romantic man like that having been treated with such humility! And yet he came out the more dignified and all the more sexy because of it.

       “I like you a lot Stella,” he winked. “You’re very cool, and as I said earlier, quite attractive. I never would have thought that you were a man if Mia and Isabelle hadn’t told me.”

       “Thank you…” I blushed, cringing slightly at how he has mentioned for the second time that I am a man. “I am a woman though, you understand that right?”

       Our appetizers came, which were a plate of Buffalo wings and celery. He munched on the celery stalk, looking at me with those warm, sweet, and caring brown eyes again. He was trying to understand me with those eyes; I could sense it and feel it.

       “I believe…I will understand more when we live together. Maybe one day, when you’re ready and comfortable, you can tell me what it means to be a woman.”

       “I don’t quite understand what you mean…”

       “Let’s not worry about that now,” he smiled, patting my hand. “I like you already, and that’s all that matters.”

       I nodded. Even though I was slightly confused, I loved the way he reassured that he liked me. It brought warm chills down my spine. I truly felt like a love-dazed school girl. I smiled and blushed while I ate some of the appetizer, gazing at him.

        Afterwards, Mia and Isabelle returned to the table. Isabelle’s hair was wild and messy and her lipstick was smeared. She didn’t bother to reapply her makeup. Mia’s hair was still straight and tied up with her pretty forest green ribbon. They both had hickies on their neck. Mia flaunted a tiny hickey on her left breast. The way Isabelle walked with her legs lightly shaking and slightly parted suggested that Mia fucked her brains out with a big dildo and strap on.

       “Finally you fuck birds have returned,” Victor grinned. “Stella and I here were going to finish this plate of Buffalo wings without you.”

       They giggled, sitting down and digging into the rest of the Buffalo wings.

       “What did you two talk about while we were gone?” asked Mia, her eyes, her skin, and her muscles exuding raw horniness more so than it did before.

       “Anything exciting?” said Isabelle.

       “I told her about the night we first met,” Victor chuckled.

       “Oh boy, now that’s exciting,” Mia smirked. “What do you think Stella?”

       “Fucked up, that’s all I can say, but almost a blessing in disguise.”

       “Let’s make a toast,” cried Isabelle, holding up her glass of wine. “Let’s toast to moving in together, forming greater bonds together, and having a fucking good time in our new home!”

       “Amen,” we shouted.

       The rest of the evening was paradise. Good food, more dancing, and a few lap dances from not only the strippers, but from each other. I gave Mia and Isabelle a lap dance, Isabelle gave Victor a few lap dances, and both of them gave it to him at once. Without a doubt, we were sexually charged individuals. I could only imagine what it was going to be like when we live together. I imagined it all night and every day when I got back home to my mother. I told her everything; she couldn’t believe how much my housemates and I clicked. She was happy for me and I was absolutely thrilled. In three weeks it was going to happen. I hadn’t seen them since we met that evening, but the thought of them quenched my thirst for the day when we’ll move in. Mia captivated me in person and in my dreams. I adored her. Victor seduced me in my memory. I was already having a crush on him. But at the same time, I couldn’t escape his confusion about my gender. I wondered what he meant by his statement about me one day telling him what it means to be a woman. The thought lingered for days and days on end. It stayed on my mind until the day I finally moved out. Afterwards, I forgot all about it.