He Wasn't Even A Boy! - Final Chapter
Disclaimer: All characters depicted in this story are 18 years of age or older at the time of the events described. This work is intended for a mature audience and complies with all applicable content guidelines regarding age-appropriate material. It is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only. The content is not meant to promote or endorse any real-life actions. Reader discretion is advised. Enjoy responsibly within the context of fantasy.
The complexity of being a girl was still intimidating. But it was also fun. I grew ever closer to Becky, Sue and Arleen as the final days of our school life passed by. And then there was Hal.
Each time we said goodnight, our embrace lasted longer and our kisses grew more passionate. Until one evening, after a dinner/movie date, I found myself necking with him along one of those quiet rural roads I used to take Sue on.
We'd been parked in his car for about half an hour when he suggested we get into the back seat. Now I'd still been 'attending' to myself at night to keep my hormones under control, but by this point I had no interest in pretending to resist. God, I was so hot for him!
He was very gentle and never put any pressure on me for sex, which made him all the sexier to me.
So I eagerly moved to the back of the car, where we resumed that delightful French kissing, the music on the stereo carrying us along.
I was in a daze, bedazzled by the wonder, the magic of his body against mine. So I shouldn't have been surprised when, after a while, I found myself sitting on his lap wearing only my panties.
He was down to his boxers and was staring with apparent joy at my chest. How had this happened? How had I let this boy undress me so easily? I couldn't even remember when my skirt and bra had come off! All those questions were driven from my mind when he took one swollen nipple into his mouth.
Oh! I felt as though my whole body had been reduced to a single point of flesh, where his tongue was ever so gently rolling over the tip.
Mmmmm. Soooo nice. He cupped my other breast in his palm, and the nipple hardened instantly. He carefully squeezed, sending sparks of pleasure across my entire chest. And down below, too.
Those cute little panties of mine were growing wetter by the second. It was almost like I was drooling only between my legs.
Our breathing grew ragged as I writhed on his lap, his erection pressing against... against... the one part of my body that wanted him the most.
I needed him, oh! How I needed him... inside me, my vagina had gained an appetite of 'her' own, a hunger not unlike an empty stomach that had to be filled.
He raised his face from my breasts and began to kiss me again. His hands ran through my hair, and I felt an indescribable urge wash across me to surrender to him.
Without my will, my body lay back on the seat, and I pulled him on top of me. Ohhh, yesss! Just feeling him there, his strength, his power dominating me, but at my command, at my will.
What a wonderful combination of control and submission! I pulled his boxers off and saw his penis, sooo, so big and ready. Ready for me!
Only a thin layer of wispy nylon protected my vagina from the next, obvious step. I was just about to invite him to take off my panties when something strange happened deep inside my psyche.
A faint echo of Jack, of the boy I'd once been, managed to make itself heard. And as far as he was concerned, he would make love as a girl only over his dead body. I could tell he... I... we... were terrified at a primal level... terrified of taking the ultimate feminine step.
A step designed by nature for one purpose. Now, love may be as grand as the poets say, but sex is the way the species propagates. All the passion and desire Hal and I felt for each other were very real on an emotional level. But on the physical level, there was a subtext.
My body wanted me to get pregnant! The intense pleasure I was so deliriously enjoying was but a tool my body's determination to manipulate me into spreading my legs and letting a boy come inside me so I could be put 'in the family way'.
Millions of years of evolution had led to me, a girl so in thrall to her own passion that she couldn't resist her fate, a girl who would accept anything, even pregnancy, as long as she could satisfy her intense craving.
Intellectually, I knew that was hardly the whole picture these days. Birth control could protect women from the biological consequences of sex. And I knew from GRS that despite my periods, I couldn't get pregnant for at least a year after GB.
But the whole concept was still so alien to me, to the faint echo of masculinity that dwelled within, and I realized I wasn't quite ready. Hal, bless him, sensed it and immediately backed off. "I'm sorry, Stephanie..."
"Don't you dare apologize, Hal, we're in this together..."
"I understand you're reluc..." I looked over at this wonderful boy, who'd been so patient and thoughtful with me. And I looked at the erection still full and throbbing in his lap. I shivered as I contemplated it. My body was still screaming for me to embrace him; just the sight of his penis made my vagina gush with desire.
To think I used to be like that! It seemed so... alien... to me now. Yet I remembered all my make-out sessions with Sue and how I'd struggled to control my own male sexuality. I had to do this for him; he deserved some relief. And I was just the girl to give it to him.
So this time, I had him lie down while I lowered my face to his hips. His eyes widened as he realized he was about to receive his first blowjob. It was my first as well, but in my wildest dreams, I never imagined I'd be the one giving it! That faint echo of the boy inside me tried to protest again, but I was having none of it.
"You're a girl," I mentally told him. "Get over it, you're going to be having sex with guys for the rest of your life, you may as well learn what it's like." And with that, I took Hal's manhood in my mouth.
He instantly gasped, and I found myself curious about what it felt like for him. Sue and I had never gotten this far. Still, I knew I had an edge over the average girl when it came to pleasuring a boy, and I put all that knowledge to good use. He actually tasted quite good, which I hadn't expected, salty and spicy and fresh and oh! I loved to hear the little gasps he made as I worked my tongue up and down his shaft.
He seemed so big! That in turn excited me. My panties were beyond wet at this point; they were drenched. A very female odor began to fill the car, which only turned us both on still more. I took him to the brink, then backed off, drawing out the experience for him.
Finally, after 15 minutes of expert manipulation on my part, I let it happen for him. Lord, he was productive! I kept right on him as he came, making sure he got the most out of it.
Loved the long, powerful groan of ecstasy he made, knowing I'd caused it was so... satisfying... to me in a very girly way. I didn't really care for the swallowing part, though, but he was in such heaven that I just couldn't stop. Gasping, he and I embraced.
He was smart enough not to thank me, which would have implied I'd 'serviced' him. I now had a sense of how the act could be degrading for a girl. Fortunately, I knew Hal's feelings for me were real, so I didn't feel the least bit 'used'. Instead, he just kept caressing me while we enjoyed our intimacy. After a time, we pulled our clothes back on and headed home.
With a final hug, goodnight, I headed inside. Mom looked pointedly at me as I entered the living room. It was no use denying what Hal and I had been up to. My disheveled clothes and flushed expression were evidence enough.
"Well?" she asked. "Um... well, what?" I replied.
"Don't play dumb with me, young lady. I know you'll find this hard to believe, but back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and Reagan was young, I was a teenager. And I had my share of back-seat encounters with boys, too.
So..." She paused expectantly. I had to smile. She was playing the protective Mom to the hilt, but there was an undercurrent of humor about it all. Here she was, worrying about her son getting pregnant!
Of course, she was aware that I had a temporary immunity for such things, but still... "Mom, we're doing fine. Hal is a perfect gentleman and never pressures me. He treats me like a princess and... and... I'm having the most wonderful time with him."
"How wonderful?" "Not too wonderful, if that's what you're worried about." A look of relief crossed her face.
"I know GRS covered some of these basics for you, but you do know that the first time can be... challenging... for a girl." "I know, Mom," I said exasperatedly. Mom and I were closer than ever, but no teenager wants a parent prying into her sex life.
"Yes, Hal is a sweetie, and I do trust him to do right by you. I just want to be sure you know what you're getting into."
"Actually, Hal's the one who'll be getting into things," I smiled wickedly. "I'll be the one who's gotten in."
I couldn't help but laugh as she winced. Mom shook her head ruefully, then looked at me in wonder. "You really are all girl, aren't you?" I shivered in recollection of my evening.
"Yes... Oh my, yes," I responded. Rather hard to deny, considering I'd just performed oral sex on my boyfriend. But the cool part was that I felt no desire to deny it in the first place.
We hugged, and I went upstairs for a badly needed shower. Hal may have had his tension relieved tonight, but I was still on fire. My nipples were thrusting almost painfully against my bra, and I could've wrung drops of... girl juice... from my panties. But Mr. Nozzle awaited me; just the memory of Hal brought me to my most intense female orgasms yet.
God, I like having a vagina! Fortunately, the shower radio was able to mask most of my sound effects. Hopefully, Mom would dismiss the moaning as just the latest Christina Aguilera hit. Which reminded me it was past time for me to take down my Carmen Electra poster.
But my passion with Hal would have to wait. For the moment I'd been eagerly waiting was finally upon me. The Nationals. This would be the last race of my high school career, and it would also determine what would happen for me in college.
There would be plenty of scouts from all the top universities deciding which athletes would get what scholarship offers. And there was my long-delayed rematch with Melody McCarthy as well.
I remembered with bitterness how the Oxton injunction had blocked me from most of the track season. And I also remembered the insulting attitude Melody and her coach had adopted.
Yes, my vindication in court had been delightful, but I knew the only place we'd really settle this would be on the track. Just the way I wanted it. But Coach Bradford had some cautionary advice for me as we drove through the placid countryside towards Cornell University.
Much like the Olympics, the National High School Track and Field Championships were rotated from place to place. This year, the meet was right in our backyard. Cornell's Schollenkopf Field was the best outdoor track in New York (even better than the Cortland track where I'd run my last race as a boy) and was only a couple of hours away. Anyway, my coach gave me a warning.
"Stephanie, you must remember that there's more to this race than Melody McCarthy. Every girl in this field has broken the 5-minute barrier. Four, including Melody and yourself, have gotten under 4:50. And two of these girls have run faster miles than you."
Coach was wise to point this out, though I knew all this already. Laura Swain of Virginia had done a 4:48,and Beth Hamilton of California had turned in a very impressive 4:46.
Both were state champions, and both were sure to be fierce competitors. "Bottom line, Stephanie, you have to run your race.
Don't get caught up in the early rush and keep in mind you're competing against 10 girls, not 1."
I felt the butterflies in my stomach again as we approached the beautiful campus. There was that electricity in the air I loved so much. And the crowd! The stadium was full, nearly 10,000 people were on hand.
Many would be family, friends, and coaches of the 350 athletes competing today. Vendors selling programs and snacks were out in full force, and there was a constant buzz of excitement.
This was far and away the largest and most prestigious meet I'd ever attended. I saw uniforms from high schools all across America.
There was even TV coverage; ESPN would tape the races for replay on one of their secondary channels. I was nervous and a little intimidated. And yet, I was also thrilled. This was where I belonged, what I was born to do.
I warmed up carefully, going through the stretches that were part of my pre-race routine. It helped to calm the jitters. I kept working on my focus while the other events were taking place, the sound of cheering as some athletes realized their dreams. And the groans as some athletes did not. Before I knew it, it was final call for the girls' mile. We cleared security and made our way down to the high-tech synthetic surface of the track.
Coach Bradford turned to me then. "Stephanie, I want you to know how proud I am of you. No matter what happens today, you're one of the bravest, strongest kids I've ever known. You go out there, do your best, and you'll be a winner."
As sudden tears came to my eyes, I realized this would be my final race for my Coach. God, we'd come a long way together! In a way, he'd been the father I'd never known. I gave him a huge hug, then he gave me a playful pat on my butt clad in those cute panty-shorts I'd grown to like so much. I giggled and headed onto the track.
By virtue of my 4:49 earlier this season, I was placed in third position from the inside rail, right next to Melody McCarthy.
She attempted a staredown, but I didn't bother.
I just looked at her, gave a big grin to show she couldn't intimidate me, and took my place at the starting line.
The two fastest girls, Laura and Beth, were on my opposite side; the other six were stretched out along the rest of the tape.
We were introduced to the crowd, and I spotted my mother, Hal, and the rest of my friends in the stands. I didn't wave, I was already sinking into the trance, the focus that I embraced at the start of every race.
Then, without further ado, the gun went off. The mad scramble began. I knew with a field this good, the pack would be close together for some time. With every girl here a sub-five miler, it would take a while to sort the wheat from the chaff.
I lay off the lead group, avoiding contact as much as possible. There was a lot of jostling and bumping of elbows as the rhythm of the race was set. The pace was very, very fast, and many of the girls were caught up in the excitement and had pushed out hard. Maybe too hard.
That was fine with me; I wasn't the least bit worried as I finished the first lap in 6th place. It was the time that mattered, "70 seconds," Coach Bradford called out. Perfect.
Even better than I'd hoped. When I was a boy, my target time for the mile was 60 seconds per lap with four laps that would put me on a 4-minute mile pace. Those days were gone, of course, my new goal as a female was 70 seconds, which would translate to a 4:40 mile.
As we began the second lap, I could sense some of the girls in front of me were tiring; the pace was too swift to sustain.
I waited until the backstretch to move past two of them, never pass on the curve, why run farther than you have to?
That put three girls in front of me: Melody, who was leading, Laura from Virginia (rather nice butt on her!), and Beth from California. We were the four who had broken the 4:50 mark this season, which made us the likely contenders for the title. As we finished the second lap, I was pleased with the time: 2:21.
The pace had barely slowed, and that was playing right into my hands. Coach Bradford and I had meticulously rehearsed this. The one thing we didn't want was a slow, tactical race.
Often, especially in the Olympics, the top athletes hold back racing for the title, not the time. That meant a leisurely jog for three laps, followed by a frantic sprint to the finish.
The problem with such a strategy is that it leaves far too much to chance; the lesser runners are right there with the big guns, which means anything can happen at the end. In the men's 1500-meter race at the 1992 Olympics, the entire field was still bunched together for the last lap.
During the chaotic dash that followed, the defending world champions and record holders lost to an unknown from Spain, who quickly became a national hero, since the Games were taking place in Barcelona. So my goal was simple: don't just race the other girls, race the clock.
Race Mary Decker and her 4:42 national record. Burn everyone out if they want to keep up, make them pay. In pain. As we started the third lap, Melody began to slow. Beth and Laura eased off as well. The rest of the field was far behind after two laps at this speed, so it was down to the four of us.
Time to get busy.
As we entered the backstretch of the third lap, I put on an enormous surge and pushed past all three girls. I kept my stride steady as I took the lead focusing on maintaining the pace necessary for the 4:40 mile that was my target. I heard a roar from the crowd as they realized this would be no stroll through the park.
Many of the fans were very knowledgeable, and they could sense what I had in mind. Melody, Laura, and Beth now had a choice to make. Hang with me, and endure the pressure ,or relax and hope I'd crash later. All three came after me. This was going to be a slugfest. I entered the homestretch of the third lap and began to feel the pain.
I was breathing okay, but my legs were quivering. We flashed past the wire and got the three-lap time: 3:30.
Wow, even faster than I'd expected. As we entered the backstretch of the fourth and final lap, the pain grew.
My breathing became labored, and my legs were now shaking. But I didn't relent, I concentrated with every neuron I could fire on keeping my form and maintaining the speed. My only consolation was that the other girls were hurting just as bad. Behind me, I heard a feminine voice curse as Melody broke the pace, had snapped her, and she fell back. One down, two to go.
We entered the final turn. I was gritting my teeth and having to force my legs to reach full stride. Then Laura gasped, coughed, and dropped behind. Two down, one to go. Beth was right with me as we headed down the homestretch. As the California state champion, I knew she had to be one tough chick.
But I'm a tough chick, too. It hurts, though God, it hurts! As I raced towards the final hundred meters, I remembered all those years of training: the running in snow, blazing heat, pouring rain. Everything I'd endured, both as a boy and as a girl, to reach my dream.
So I swallowed down my stomach, which was trying to leap up my throat. I made my hands into fists, growled deeply (still soprano), bared my teeth, and drank in the roar of the crowd using that energy to master my pain and gut it out to the end. Just a little bit farther... just a little bit farther and it won't hurt anymore... I zeroed in on the finish line, knowing only there would the torture end. All I had to do was get to it... as fast as I could.
And then Beth snapped. I could feel her fading behind. Not much, just a few strides, but that was all I needed. Somehow, I found the strength for a final surge and broke the tape.
In the first place. I did it! I'm the fastest girl miler in the country! Gasping, I nearly plunged to my knees before Coach Bradford scooped me up into a huge hug. I felt like a little doll in his massive arms. I was too weary even to hug him back. But I did have enough in me to smile.
He set me down and pointed to the scoreboard, where the electronic clock had marked my time: 4:39. My god, I've broken Mary Decker's record. I'm the fastest high school miler in history! For a girl, that is... but I didn't care about the damn qualifier. Elated and overwhelmed, I started to cry as I embraced my coach and basked in the cheers from the crowd.
Beth Hamilton came up with a big smile, and she threw her arm around my shoulder. "I knew you were the girl to beat, congratulations," she said.
"What a race!" She'd finished in 4:43, a new California State record. Laura Swain was there too. Her 4:46 was a record for Virginia as well. Track fans would be talking about this one for years. Melody had finished out of the medals in fourth place. She had collapsed on the ground.
I was very careful not to snicker as I approached her, but my effort at sportsmanship was wasted. She looked up at me. "I don't care what anyone says. You don't deserve this, especially with those fake boobs." For my response, I replayed 'Seinfeld'.
I leaned over Melody, allowing her to peek down my bra. Which she did at length, her eyes widening as she saw I was the genuine article. Then I spoke.
"They're real... and they're spectacular." Then I flounced away. I know, I know - it was petty of me, but Lord, that felt good!
I continued to be mobbed by officials, fans, and the press as I made my way up to the stands where Mom and my friends awaited me. I put in more hugs than Leo Buscaglia and struggled not to cry as everyone congratulated me. A feeling of completeness, of satisfaction filled me.
It had been so hard, but it had all been worth it! Everyone was still talking excitedly while the boys' mile was run. I watched a little wistfully as Kevin Tilden (remember him from my last race as a guy?) won the National title with a time of 4:02. For all the hoopla over my victory, he'd finished 37 seconds faster than me. Though a tiny part of me was pleased to see my status as the only sub-4 high school boy in 30 years remained intact.
But I was happy for his victory and went up to congratulate him afterwards. It was the first time we'd met since I'd changed. My former archrival looked me up and down. Then he smiled, shook his head, and whistled.
"You know, when I first heard you were going to be a girl, I was a little sad because I knew I'd run better if you were around.
But I have to say, Stephanie, that between the way you race and the way you... Look, maybe this was for the best." I smiled and gave the guy a hug. Then both of us went off to be interviewed by the press and to meet all the scouts. Since we had just become the fastest boy and girl milers in the United States, we attracted a lot of attention.
I gave my phone number to a half-dozen college coaches, all of whom were dangling scholarship offers and other inducements in front of me. The next hour was dizzying, dazzling, and delightful. Finally, things calmed down. Coach Bradford walked my mom and me to our car.
Mom looked up at him. They'd met briefly at my hearing, but this was their first chance to talk. "Thank you, Coach, for everything you've done for my... daughter. I never really appreciated just how hard and how special all this is.
You've really made a difference in her life, and you've opened my eyes as well." "She's a coach's dream, Mrs. Lind, and I'm proud to have worked with her." We said our goodbyes, and Mom drove me home. We said little; the emotion of the day had been exhausting, but I could tell she was very happy for me.
At long last, Mom and I were in synch on just why running was so important to me. The following Monday began the final week before graduation. I wore my cheerleading uniform for the last time. I felt a lot more comfortable with the tights on, now that my hazing was over.
If the silly little skirt flew up, at least I didn't have to worry about my panties showing. And all day long, just like when I'd cracked the 4:00 minute barrier as Jack, I got many congratulations and pats on the back. Winning a national title and breaking a special record had put me back where I'd been as a boy. Well, almost where I'd been...
I reflected wryly, primping in front of the mirror in the girls' bathroom with the rest of the cheerleaders. Some things would never be the same, I realized, as I listened to the other girls talk and giggle. And you know what?
That's cool with me. Coach Bradford was inundated with calls from universities all over the country, not to mention the press. We did a few phone interviews and sorted through all the deals. I had plenty of time to choose, and with his guidance, I knew I'd end up at the right place.
But the glow from the championships faded quickl,y life goes on, and the next major event was rapidly approaching. The Prom.
Of course, I was going with Hal. He'd asked me last week, strangely shy, and I found myself flattered that he chose me.
It made no sense for me to feel that way; we were already so intimate that our going together should have been a matter of fact. It wasn't until I was clued in by Arleen, Becky, and Sue that I understood what was really on the table. In a small town like Milford, the race to adulthood is a bit slower than in more cosmopolitan settings, and the connection between boys and girls likewise takes a bit longer.
Bottom line was this: if a Milford girl was really serious about a boy, then prom night was usually when she lost her virginity.
Oh my. It was already a foregone conclusion that Hal and I were going to make love. But to have a whole evening dedicated to that moment was another thing entirely! The prom represented one of the classic rituals of youth: the clothes, the dancing, and... everything else.
I'd dreamed of going to the prom with Sue in my fantasies; I would woo her with such skill that she'd melt into my arms. I'd carry her off to a feather bed, where she'd remove her beautiful gown and I'd see her in all her feminine glory. Then we'd be together the way I'd always dreamed...
But in all my fantasies, I never imagined I'd be the one to be 'wooed'! I'd be the one in the fancy gown, the one who'd 'melt' into the arms of her lover. Yet that was now my destiny.
And the other girls knew it. All week long, I got all kinds of feedback on the dress, the flowers, the make-up, the hair, and everything else that would go into the preparations. And there was also a lot of good-natured teasing about what would happen after the prom. Becky, Sue, and Arleen kept giving me sly looks and naughty comments and some rather earthy advice.
When it comes to discussions of sex, girls can be a lot more explicit than guys. And so I found myself on Saturday getting ready for the last social event of my high-school life. This being the prom, I'd allotted 6 hours for the task. Mom and I got to experience yet another classic mother-daughter moment as she helped me along. Bubble bath, nail polish, skin conditioners.
Up went my hair, then down, then up again as I alternated from smiles to tears and back. I was very emotional as I preparedfor the girlishness of the moment, which was almost overwhelming.
Finally, it came time to get dressed. With trembling hands, I put on the white lace garter belt with matching bra and stockings Sue had bought for me. I noted with fascination how the outfit served as a gilded frame surrounding my... girlhood.
I'd learned enough by now to put the silk white panties over my garters, to allow easier access to my...
Then I looked at my reflection, clad only in the ornate underwear. Mom said it for me. "My God, Stephanie, you're so beautiful." She was beaming with pride as we both drank in the extraordinarily feminine image that was now mine.
My crinoline, with an underslip, was next, followed by the gown, a white mini-dress, lavished in lace. It ended about two inches above my knee with the crinoline pushing it out from my legs,creating a delightful swirl as I moved.
The whole outfit had a wonderful mixture of sophisticated woman and innocent schoolgirl, all wrapped up in one.
The picture was further enhanced by my upswept hair, with a couple of bangs brought forward to showcase my face, skillfully made up by my Mom. She embraced me as my eyes filled with tears over the wonder, the joy of the lovely girl I'd become.
What a journey this had been! A couple of months ago, I'd been a normal boy. Now, I was a girl about to take the ultimate feminine step. I thought about all the other girls across America getting ready on their prom nights. They... we... were girding up our courage for what was to come.
That moment when our beautiful dresses would be raised over our hips, our pretty panties pulled down, our thighs parted, and that indescribable, terrifying, exhilarating moment when we would be transformed from girls into... women.
I shivered at the thought. Yet I could hardly wait. Besides, turning into a woman really shouldn't be that big a deal for me.
After all, being changed from a boy into a girl was far more dramatic and I'd survived that, hadn't I?
Hal arrived. Let me tell you, the expression of 'jaw-dropping to the floor' isn't always an exaggeration. I loved the impact I had on him, and I couldn't deny the one he had on me. Standing there, so tall and elegant in his tux, with his dark hair carefully cut and combed and a whiff of aftershave, I felt a crashing wave of feminine desire sweep over me.
God, he was hot! We exchanged the wrist corsage and boutonniere, then with a final hug for my Mom, we were off. Hal had a special surprise for me, though. A friend of his worked in a bookstore and had gotten an advance copy of this week's 'Sports Illustrated'.
And halfway through the mag was my story, a full page with color photos documenting my race for the title and the new record I'd set. Comments from my Coach and me were included, along with predictions of future glory from the reporter.
A delighted smile spread across my face as I realized my dream had come true. And then, as I looked into Hal's eyes, I realized another dream was coming true as well. We arrived at the gym decorated with crepe paper (remember, this is a hick town) and hooked up with the rest of the gang.
Becky had arrived with Big Mark Williams (BMW), and they were very cool together. Sue and Arleen had decided to go stag, so they hung out at our table. Everyone looked just smashing as we danced and laughed the hours away.
The gossamer silk stockings and the frothy crinoline made me feel more girly, more sexy, and more feminine with each moment. Hormones were bubbling all over the place as the dozens of couples moved closer to each other. I noted Becky and BMW were definitely connecting, and I suspected I was not the only girl who was going to learn what it meant to be a woman tonight.
I also noticed Sue and Arleen looking at me a little wistfully, though for obviously different reasons. In the bathroom, Sue and I chatted. "I'm so happy for you, Stephanie. You and Hal are perfect for each other."
"Thanks, though I must say I do miss you still. I mean, I'm so glad to have you as my friend, and you've done so much for me. But... you're also one amazingly wonderful and... sexy lady, and there's enough of... Jack left in me to wish we could... still be together."
She looked at me with sad but shining eyes. "I love you, Stephanie," she said simply.
"I love you, too, Sue. Thank you for everything." We embraced, both of us in tears. It was bittersweet, not just the lost romance with Sue, but everything else as well. Tonight was the last time we'd all be in one place.
Graduation was just a few days away, and after that, we'd scatter to the winds. Our childhood was ending, and there was a sense of loss.
Yet it felt right, too. There's a time and a place for everything in life, and we all felt the call of the future. We knew that saying goodbye was part of growing up. Though not just yet. The final slow songs of the evening were played. I made sure to dance with BMW, feeling lost in his massive arms.
But the big guy moved with surprising grace, and I knew he'd be just right for Becky. I thanked him again for his heroics on my behalf and wished him the best with his new lady.
Then came my dance with Hal. We said nothing, just snuggling against one another. We were beyond words at this point, our passion waiting for but one release.
One final song to go, and I noticed Arleen looking at me again with that expression of wistfulness. I walked up to her and extended my arm. "Arleen, would you dance with me?"
Her look became one of astonishment as she realized what I was offerin,g a moment where she could be herself, truly herself, in front of everyone. Meeting my eyes steadily, she smiled and took my hand. Boldly, I led her to the center of the gym, where all the other couples were swaying together. I looked at her carefully. "Are you sure?" I asked. She nodded happily. So I took her in my arms and danced with her.
Cheek to cheek, breasts to breasts, enjoying the novel sensation of our silk stockings brushing together as we moved across the floor. We drew some startled glances while girls routinely danced fast songs together; they never do for slow ones, at least not in Milford.
But I wanted Arleen to have this chance where she did not have to hide who she was. And I could tell by the way she pressed against me that she was more than ready to be 'outed'. The song finally ended, and she looked at me with dazzled eyes. Still touching, I raised my hands and cupped her face.
Then I let that faint echo of Jack within me have one last male moment. I kissed her. A long, slow, sweet, romantic kiss, our tongues playing gently together. There were gasps all around us, but I didn't care.
And neither did she. I ended our embrace, but not before I thanked her for her friendship. Arleen would forever have the memory that all girls should have: dancing at her prom and being kissed by someone she cared about.
The expression of rapture on her face made it all worthwhile. I smiled, said goodnight, and grabbed a startled Hal's hand.
I told him it was just 'girl business' as I laughingly dragged him out to his car for the evening's final chapter. For which he had planned well. There weren't any hotels to be found in these parts, and we both wanted something more than a lover's lane encounter in a car. But Hal had just the thing in mind. Way back in the woods, at the end of a logging trail, was an old hunter's cabin known only to us runners.
We'd found it years ago during our time on the cross-country team. Hal drove us up and doused the headlights, then he led me inside. He knelt over the fireplace and my eyes widened as the room lit up. The windows had washed and the floor swept. A full bed with a soft comforter had been prepared. There were flowers in vases everywhere and a sheepskin rug in front of the fire. It was perfect. For the final touch, Hal lit a candle and set it next to the bed. Then he looked at me and said, "You're too beautiful to love in the dark." I felt my knees go weak.
My turn. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, I undressed. My gown, then my crinoline, then my bra. His gaze grew more intense with each item I removed. At the end, taking a deep breath, I slipped out of my silk panties.
I stood before him in only my garter belt, stockings, and heels, my body fully visible to him at last. His eyes widened, and he gave a small gasp as he saw just how female I really was.
Then, with equal slowness, he undressed, finally removing his boxers and allowing me to admire his body in return. I loved his flat, smooth chest and the corded muscles of his legs.
His manhood seemed even larger than our last encounter, yet while I was apprehensive, I was not the least bit intimidated. The thought that just the sight of my body could inspire such a reaction in him was very pleasing to me. And then we were in each other's arms kissing hungrily. I felt his hardness pressing against me as his hands gently squeezed my breasts. Oh! The sensation of skin against skin was so, so sweet. I gasped as his tongue found my breasts, while I reached down and stroked his penis.
Wild how it was so soft and so firm at the same time! I was careful, though as a former boy, I knew how easy it was to lose control.
Both of us were making little cries of pleasure as we caressed and kissed each other everywhere. I felt as if we'd been transported to another universe one where the only objects that existed were our bodies.
We fell onto the bed, he on top in the classic male position of dominance, me on the bottom as the submissive female. My thighs parted without my telling them to; they just moved apart for him.
Oh yes! More... please more... His kisses moved away from my rock-hard nipples and slowly down my belly to the little tuft of hair between my legs. Oh! Was he going to? Would he?
Oohhhh yesss! I cried out as his tongue began to explore my vagina, which was already dripping. I knew this was Hal's first experience with pleasuring a girl this way, but he certainly seemed to know what he was doing.
Oh my god! It was so good! I could actually feel my clitoris swelling, and a wonderful glow began to unfold as his lips dashed across me from top to bottom.
I found myself pressing his head against my groin, bedazzled by the incredible feminine delight. The more he tongued me, the hotter and wetter I got.
I could feel the walls of my new vagina drawing apart, my hips bucking upward. And I realized that I didn't want his face down there, I wanted his penis there, instead. Right now!
The indescribable need to be penetrated, to be taken as a female, became too much to resist. I pulled his head up to my face and presented my hips to him. He knelt over me, looked deeply into my eyes, and gently pushed his manhood against my crotch. This was the moment of truth.
I was about to lose my virginity as a girl, about to accept my new gender in the most profound of ways. Yet I didn't even contemplate resisting. I smiled up at him in invitation. And with that, he thrust carefully but firmly into me.
Ohhh! There was much less pain than I expected, though I did hurt a little as my hymen was torn. But I was so wet and so ready for him.
And then... the glorious sensation of being filled that terrible emptiness, that feminine longing finally being satisfied. It was as if my body was a puzzle and his penis was the last piece. Please... oh please, my lover... yes...
Hal began to rock back and forth, and my pleasure reached heights I'd never imagined. My solitary masturbation was nothing compared to this with him; I felt complete, fulfilled in every way, emotionally and physically.
My hips rose to meet his as our lovemaking grew more polished, the ancient rhythm of male and female coupling. He controlled the pace of our intercourse, while I was just along for the ride. Yet somehow yielding to him made the experience all the more intense and exhilarating.
Perhaps there's something primal in a girl's soul that makes the very act of surrendering so arousing for her. Breathing heavily, both of us sexually charged beyond belief, he paused. Then, while staying inside me, he sat back on his heels and lifted my hips onto his lap.
Ohhh! Somehow, that drove his beautiful penis still deeper into me. Then he reached his thumb forward and began to caress my swollen clitoris. That took me to an even higher plane of delight.
Oh my God, how can it feel so good to be a girl?
Oh... don't stop... please don't stop... I remembered to my astonishment that Hal and I had read of this position in an issue of 'Playboy' last year, supposedly guaranteed to bring a girl to ecstasy. We'd both vowed to try it for our first lovemaking.
I just never imagined he'd be trying it on ME!
My body was spasming, the muscles on the inside of my thighs jumping as he continued to thrust into me while simultaneously stroking my clitoris.
Oh Hal, oh my lover oh, I'm so lucky to have you! And with that, I felt my vagina begin to tense, the lips of my vulva began to quiver, and I exploded into my orgasm. Flame swept across me from head to foot as I gritted my teeth and curled my toes. The small cabin was filled with the cries of female passion as I trembled and shook. Oh God I love this!
Oh, I love being a girl... oh my body... my wonderful feminine body... ohhhh YESSS! It seemed to last forever, much longer than ever before. A river of fluid poured from my vagina. My entire crotch felt like it had turned to warm butter as the hyper-intense orgasm continued to dominate me.
Oh... even more amazing than I'd hoped for... oh! What a miracle this is! Finally, my body calmed down, but right behind that came Hal literally. I felt his penis twitch deep inside me, then he gasped and groaned as his male orgasm overtook him. Yet I knew, however good he felt, I felt even better.
I loved the sensation of his warm manhood slowly withdrawing, while leaving his seed within me. Is this heaven? I wondered, as he collapsed onto me.
We continued to caress and stroke each other, both of us were near tears with amazement and happiness. He asked if I was all right. Silly boy. I'd never been better in my life. We told each other how special the experience had been for a couple of virgins; we'd done very well indeed. Especially considering how my body was nearly as much of a mystery to me as it was to him.
One advantage of being a teenager it doesn't take long to recover. After a time, I could feel his erection rising again, and a corresponding need in me rose as well. Amazing. My cheek was raw where his young (albeit shaven) beard had scraped me. My bones felt a bit bruised from the weight of him on top of me. My vagina was still sore from the removal of my hymen. My crotch felt a little messy from a variety of secretions. And I couldn't wait to get him back inside me.
As I spread my stocking-clad legs once again and joyfully welcomed him into my body, two thoughts kept whirling through my mind. The first? I'm a woman! The second? I wouldn't have it any other way!
EPILOGUE.
Summer, 2008, Beijing, China, I stood at the end of the track with a dozen other women who hailed from all over the world. We walked down the homestretch to take position on the starting line.
All around us were 100,000 spectators, anticipating the event to come: the women's 1500-meter run. A sense of excitement filled every corner of Olympic Stadium.
As I prepared to begin my race, I reflected on this strange and wonderful journey. After graduating from high school, I took a full scholarship to Stanford University, which had one of the best track programs in America.
I quickly learned it was better to be a big fish in a small pond than vice versa. But I got great support from my new coach, and Coach Bradford was also there for me in spirit.
Slowly but surely, I climbed the ladder, moving from also-ran to division leader to NCAA champion. Once I earned my degree (computer science always has a backup plan!) I moved to Colorado Springs and the US Olympic Training Headquarters. The altitude and the experts helped me to the next level in an international competition.
Last year, I finished second in the US Championships and a respectable sixth at the World Cup.
That, of course, just made me hungry for more. So I trained still harder, ran more races, refining my skills. It paid off. Two months earlier, I'd won the US Olympic Trials, and three weeks ago, I'd defeated most of these women at an all-comers meet in Europe.
The announcer introduced me to the crowd, first in Mandarin, then in English. "Representing the United States of America, currently ranked second in the world, Stephanie Lind!" A thrill of pride and anticipation went through me. I spotted my Mom waving wildly from the stands. She'd made the long, long journey to be here, and I couldn't have been happier.
We were as close as ever, constantly calling and e-mailing each other when I was on the road. My first commercial endorsement (with Nike) was inked just a month ago, so I set up a college fund and practically ordered her back to school. She was so excited about finishing her degree and all the new opportunities ahead. She was, in her forties, coming into her own at last.
Hal and I made a valiant effort to keep our relationship going, but reality did intrude. Going to college on opposite sides of the country made it impossible to sustain our intimacy, and we reluctantly parted ways.
But only romantically. We remained close friends in fact, packed in my luggage was a wedding invitation, for I'd become very fond of his fiancée as well. I just hope she'll show some mercy with my bridesmaid dress! I always knew Sue was destined for big things. She went straight to the Ivy League and graduated from Brown, followed by Yale Law School.
She was living in Washington now, learning the ropes as she prepared for a career in politics. I was sure to visit her whenever I passed through the city, where we stayed in touch, sharing everything as we advanced in our respective fields. She really had become a sister to me, and I was so lucky to have her.
Becky and BMW had married two years ago, when he was drafted by the Buffalo Bills. I'd made the journey back to New York to revel in their wedding. Becky was expecting their first child, and her husband already had a weight set picked out. Boy or girl, that kid was destined to be a jock.
Arleen played out the cliché to its logical end. She'd moved to San Francisco. I'd met her partner an equally sweet and adorable young woman who would have percolated my hormones as Jack. Arleen had finally escaped Milford, and she had blossomed as a result.
Tamara from Girl School had gone all out she was married and had her first baby, a boy, last year. Every once in a while, when I looked at their pictures, it still amazed me that she'd once been a normal male and now she was a mommy. But the glow on her face made it clear she was delighted with the way things turned out. Not so for Jeri.
I made a special point to stay in touch with her because I knew she was struggling more than anyone. I wasn't surprised when she went to West Point, a military academy, was just the place for someone trying to avoid having to be all girly.
She became an outstanding cadet, taking to the hyper-masculine environment, and she was now a commissioned second lieutenant in the Army. We'd gotten together a few times over the years, and we always had fun.
But I could tell she still saw herself as a man trapped in a woman's body and she forever would. Sigh.
As for me? I certainly didn't feel that way. I'd taken a couple of lovers during my college years, and I currently had my eye on a very cute marathoner who worked out with me back in Colorado. I'd really come to enjoy my sexuality as a woman, and I took a particular delight in lovemaking with a nice man.
Especially when I got to play a submissive role with a dominant partner. My experience with Principal Grogan had only whetted my appetite for such games. I love having a man take control over me in that way. But only at MY choice, and only in bed. I suspect my desire to be sexually dominated has less to do with my femininity and more to do with my own needs, innate from birth.
That passion sure is a lot easier to express as a woman, though. Of course, periods and bras remain frustrating but cute panties, pretty dresses, and those amazing orgasms make up for it. I train hard, but I also love to get all dolled up and indulge my girly side. At the end of the day, I'm very happy to be in this female body.
But I'm going to wait before I settle down. I look forward to the time when I'll have the husband, the 2.4 kids, and the white picket fence, but not yet. I've got other things to do first.
GB remains a mystery to this day. No one has ever figured out who's behind it; in fact, it seems to be spreading just a bit. The first reported cases of girls turning into boys appeared last year, and if an answer isn't found eventually, the implications for humanity will be very interesting indeed. The starter called us to the line. I began to sink into my race-trance, while the other women took their positions next to me. The stadium grew hushed as the moment I'd dreamed of arrived at last. The gun went off. And I was on my way. It's a great life... for a girl.
THE END.