Works/Moving Parts

I leaned in to look at myself in the rear-view mirror one more time, even though I'd checked at every stoplight.

You'd think it would be easier the more you do it. But I'd been doing it forever, and I still had nightmares where I entered a room and I'd made some really obvious mistake. Maybe this is part of the package, this nervousness. Maybe all women get it. No wonder I don't like it, then.

I got out of the car carefully, smoothed down my clothes, and walked into the diner. "Alice!" Vanessa said, waving me over. "Wow, that's not a look you usually go for ...."

What, the dress? Had I goofed? I figured she'd be suspicious if I wore jeans all the time. "I have a date this evening," I said, "and I won't have time to change."

She sighed and took a long gulp of her soda. "Nobody has 'dates' anymore, Alice," she said. "First off, we're not sixteen, or hadn't you noticed, and second, dating is dead. Now you meet somebody in a club - or, if you're a grown-up, you wait until you stumble over somebody - and then you go have sex, and then maybe you do it again a couple of nights later, or maybe he never calls - that's not dating. If you have dinner first, to him that's foreplay."

The waitress brought iced tea for me. We were regulars. I took a sip and remembered I hadn't sweetened it.

"You're upset about something else," I said. Women are supposed to notice these things faster. "But I don't know -"

"Sorry," she said. "Not you. I'm happy you're having moonlit drives to the homecoming game. Tell me what you're doing right."

"It's your new man, isn't it?"

"My new men. The twins. Well, not really. Peter's taller and Paul's darker. But they act exactly the same. We meet, we don't talk, we go to my place - always my place - we have sex, and he goes home. I'd feel guilty about seeing two men at once, if -"

"If there were more to it than sex?"

"If they didn't both seem like the same guy! But you're right too. It'd be a lot easier if I knew more of them than their dicks."

"Would you still be with either if you did? Sorry. Bad question." Judging from her face, I'd screwed up again. "Well, is the sex good at least?"

"No, don't dodge. What do you mean, would I still be with them?"

"Well ...."

The waitress came to take our orders, but it wasn't enough of a distraction. "Finish what you were saying," Vanessa commanded.

I took a sip of my tea. I still hadn't sweetened it. "I guess it's just ... sometimes only having sex is simpler. You don't have to worry about whether you'd want a relationship with him ... you can just have some fun, and concentrate on being friends with your friends, not your lovers. I know that sounds bad ...."

"No, I thought that once," she said.

- - -

I threw my purse on the sofa - damned thing - and followed it myself. My dress bunched up as I flopped down, the hemline lifting practically up to my tits and showing my panties to anyone passing by. Which was only Paul anyway.

"How unladylike," he said, with a sniff. Then he grinned. "You look wiped. What happened? Bad lunch?"

"More intense than usual," I said. "Vanessa's not thrilled that you two don't want to have a conversation before you fuck."

"Oh, crap."

"I'm sorry. I've been around her for so long and I guess I missed it entirely - the things she's said in the past, I figured she'd be glad to find two men who didn't want strings attached -"

"Well, don't get your panties in a wad, ha ha. If it lasts, it lasts. If it doesn't - well, hell, no surprise. You want It now?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure." I stood up, brushed my clothes back into place, and carried my purse into my room.

I took off the dress and hung it back up, and slipped out of my shoes. By then Abby had come back, holding It. "Here you go."

"Just put It on the bed," I said, unhooking my bra. "No, wait, I'll take It."

One disconcerting thing - still creepy after all these years - is that It's warm. Even when not attached, It feels - well - alive. But how can It be alive when It's not attached? What's keeping It warm without a body?

I shook my head, pulled down my panties with one hand, and reached between my legs with the other to press It into place. Felt the other disconcerting thing - part of It was melting inside me, entering my vagina like hot liquid, pouring into me over my lips and clit and setting, hardening around them. Like someone was using plaster of paris to make a mold of my genitals.

Except those weren't my genitals any more. I touched my penis gently, not really stroking it. More like a blessing. Then I stretched, and scratched my chest, still itchy from the breasts that now weren't there.

"Always good to be rid of the weight up top," Abby said.

"No kidding," I said. I took the panties all the way off, tossed them on the bed next to the bra, and opened the other side of the closet to figure out what I was going to wear that night.

Our voices don't change, at least not that I've noticed. Amy is just a high-pitched man when she's Peter; Abby has a low growl no matter whether she's Abby or Paul. And me - well, it's hard for someone to say what their own voice sounds like. I don't think I hate it.

The three of us do look a lot alike - I mean, we are siblings. We aren't hairy, muscular he-men; we aren't hugely busty, curvy women either. Somewhere just about exactly in the middle, neither here nor there. Which makes sense, if you think about it.

- - -

I met him at a bar at the appointed time. I don't know why I couldn't just go straight to his house. Maybe he wanted his friends to see he was going home with somebody.

He had an amazing body, all solid and smooth. He shaved his chest; he claimed he was a swimmer and I pretended he wasn't full of shit. I liked to run my fingers along the shallow hills of the muscles in his abdomen. He should have claimed to be a body-builder. More plausible.

He kept his hair short, bleached blond and spiky and maybe a centimeter long if that. Blunt face, not as pretty as his body but eye-catching. You noticed it across a room. Or I certainly had.

He had an absolutely gorgeous dick.

We went to his apartment, and we weren't halfway inside the door before he was trying to undo my pants, get his hand down into the fly of my jeans. "Slow down there, hotshot," I said, and spun him in and kicked the door closed with the side of my foot.

At least he kissed. Some men don't. We had our tongues in each other's mouths and he had managed to get his hand where he wanted it, and we sort of tangled into each other and landed together on his bed, without really noticing the trip to the bedroom.

He disengaged to pull his shirt over his head, that amazing chest rippling as he lifted his arms. He wasn't wide, like real body-builders get after a while; his chest was the normal size. Just very well defined. His cock already sticking straight up, catching on the elastic of his briefs as he pulled them off.

I really wanted to taste that, put it in my mouth and roll my tongue over it and grab his tight ass with both hands and see if I could get him to make a happy noise like a little boy. I knew I could; I had before. And then later I would give him my ass, roll over and get on all fours and feel that beautiful thing inside me, big and powerful -

I pulled away from him and sat up at the edge of the bed. I know when I'm kidding myself.

"What?" he said. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's that we're about to fuck and those are practically the only words you've said? Maybe it's because it just occurred to me that this is the third time we've been here and I'm having trouble remembering your name?

"I - I don't know. I guess I'm not warmed up yet. Maybe I want to do something else first. You know, like, have a conversation or something?" No, no, no. Wrong script.

He lay down and rolled onto his back, put his hands behind his head, completely relaxed. He had that grin men get when they're sure of themselves. "So what do you want to talk about?"

I narrowed my eyes and stood up.

"Hey!"

"No, thanks," I said. I hadn't even gotten my clothes off. I zipped up my jeans and walked out of the room.

"What, it wasn't good enough? What did I do?" he shouted after me.

I supported myself against the doorway once I was outside. This wasn't right; men didn't act like this.

It had been good enough.

- - -

Rainy and dark the next day, to match my mood.

"Circles under the eyes," Vanessa said as I shook off my umbrella. "Out late at the homecoming dance?"

"Very funny," I said. I'd thought about covering them up, but I figured she'd just notice that too.

"Sorry," she said, and it was so abashed that I realized my tone must have been really nasty.

"I'm sorry," I replied. "Didn't mean to snap. I had a bad night."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No, I want to have some coffee. Then maybe. Actually, I want to go splash some water on my face. Don't let her bring me iced tea."

When I got back, coffee waiting for me, I asked her, "Do you notice any difference when you have sex?"

She blinked a few times. "What do you mean exactly?"

"Between Peter and Paul. You said they might as well have been twins."

"Oh! That's, um -"

"Unexpected, sorry, I know."

She studied me. "It didn't go well last night?"

"You might say that."

"Well. Huh. Paul goes for the bulldozer approach. You know. He wants to see how hard and fast he can pump. Fun, but you have to remind him that you're not the Woman of Steel. Starts to hurt after a while. On the other hand, I usually come without help that way .... The waitress isn't listening, is she?"

"She's on the other side of the room."

"Okay. Peter is really into skin contact, he likes to touch and rub -"

"I didn't think there were men who did that," I said.

"Sure there are." She looked at me. "Oh, Alice, they do exist. They're just hard to find sometimes. Was he that big a jerk?"

"Keep going."

She watched me a little longer, then shrugged. "Anyway, Peter is very gentle and I don't usually come just from his - well, you know, like I do with Paul - but Peter always makes sure I come, he uses his hands .... He has nice hands. I'm trying to figure out a way to get him to -"

"What?"

"Um, go down on me."

"Oh, that. You should just ask him."

"You've known him for a long time, right?"

I nodded. "I never slept with him."

"Oh. Because ...?"

"Not that kind of relationship," I said. I sipped my coffee.

- - -

Amy was waiting for me when I got home. On the couch, in nothing but men's briefs. They didn't look as silly on her as you might think. "You don't have It?" she asked.

"Ooops - no, It's on my bed. I was having lunch with Vanessa. I'd have given It to you early but you weren't here."

"No problem," she said, standing up. "I'll go get It."

"You're in more of a hurry than usual," I said.

"I've suggested an early movie and then dinner. So she won't think all we think about is sex," she added, disappearing into my bedroom.

Someone knocked on the front door. It was Vanessa. "Um. Hello," I said.

"Calm down," she said, "it's just me. You left your umbrella at the diner." She handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said. "I - er - hate to not be sociable, but really I was just on my way out again ...."

"This is the house, huh?" she said. "Big place. Oh, don't worry; I don't care if it's a mess, I'm just nosy. Can I have the quick tour?" She shut the door, to keep me from shooing her out.

"But I -"

"Really quick. Please?"

"Who was it?" Peter asked, coming out of my bedroom in just those damned briefs. "Oh, you're still here. I'm so sorry ... Oh. It's you."

"It certainly is," Vanessa said. She was standing with every muscle tensed. "Well. Alice, I'll have that tour some other time, I think." She opened the door again and stepped outside. "Call me when hell freezes over." Slam.

I spun. "Congratulations," I said to Peter.

"Crap," he said.

- - -

"Paul," I said, entering his bedroom, "You don't know it yet, but you're going to do us a favor."

He looked at Amy, then at me, and stopped buttoning his shirt. "You want me to dump her so we can start over. How come I always have to be the asshole?"

"No. I want you to bring us with you."

"Wait a minute. No. You are not going to tell her. Remember the last time we tried that?"

"I've been trying to talk her out of it," said Amy. "Alice, he's right. It's not worth it."

"Listen, you two," I said. "You are losing a piece of ass. I am losing someone who's been - well ... someone who's very important to me, and don't look at me like that. I don't know. Don't you two ever want friends?"

"We have friends," Amy said.

"As women?"

They exchanged a disbelieving look. "We're not women," Paul said. "We're freaks maybe, but we're not women. I'm surprised we're even - I mean, I thought we figured this out a long time ago. Do you feel like a woman?"

"Things change," I said.

They both stared at me.

"We're coming with you," I said, "and we're going to tell her."

- - -

"Paul," Vanessa said, opening the door. "Look, I'm sorry I couldn't get you on the phone in time, but I think we should cancel tonight. I'm really not feeling up to it."

"That's fine," he said, "but - er - there's something I need to talk to you about. Can I come in?"

She looked alarmed. "More bad news. Sure." She moved to one side, and Paul held the door open ... as Amy and I came in from the hallway where we'd been standing, out of sight.

"Oh, no," Vanessa said. "No. Get out."

"Not until I tell you something very important," I said, closing the door.

"I'll call the police," she said.

"Vanessa. I am not stealing your men. Please listen."

She opened her mouth to say something ... then shut it again, and sat down in an armchair and waited.

"The three of us are siblings. Fraternal triplets. You know Paul and me, but you don't recognize Amy." I turned to look at the other two. "C'mon, you promised. Turn your backs if you want. She's seen It enough times anyway."

Paul sighed and undid his pants. "I don't need this," Vanessa said, starting to stand up.

"Wait!" I said. "Just hang on a second. Paul, get on with it."

He reached down between his legs, and there was that unpleasant suction sound we all hated so much, and then there was Abby. I heard Vanessa gasp behind me. I didn't turn to look.

"Hurry up," Abby said, handing It to Amy. "I don't fit these pants while I'm this shape."

Amy put both hands, one holding It, under her skirt. What she did was invisible, but she closed her eyes and exhaled pleasantly, and then there was Peter, looking silly in a dress which was too tight in the shoulders, and an empty bra.

"What the hell is going on here?" Vanessa shouted.

"We can't explain it," I said. "We don't know how it works. The three of us have one penis. We can move It from person to person. Whoever has It is a boy. When we don't have It, we're girls."

"You too?" she asked me.

"Um, yes."

"Can we switch back now?" Abby demanded.

"Ooops. Sorry," I said. Abby took It back from Amy, who had to undo and refasten her bra to get it back in the right place.

"What do you call yourself when you're -"

"Philip," I said. "But that's not really -"

"You never were interested in me?"

"Philip likes men," Paul said, zipping up his slacks.

"Shut up," I said.

"So. Let me see. You - procure - me, pimp your friend to your brothers so they'll have someone to fuck. Is that about right? Get out."

"Vanessa, please -"

"Get out!"

We went. She slammed the door.

"I told you," Paul said.

"Go," I said. "I'll find another way home."

"Give it up," Amy said.

"Not yet."

They left and I pounded on the door. "Vanessa!" No answer.

"Vanessa, I didn't know! You never sounded unhappy, not before the other day! And - and - well, I never realized ... oh, never mind," I said, letting my voice trail off.

"What didn't you realize?" she said, opening the door.

"I didn't realize that just sex wasn't good enough. I guess."

"Get in here before they evict me," she said.

We sat on opposite sides of the room. Watching each other.

"You were a friend who was in the market for that kind of thing. They're always having trouble finding women who don't want something more permanent. It seemed like a good match," I said.

"How did you three get like this, anyway? I mean, were you born with It or -"

"Our aunt gave It to us when we were little; she said it was our inheritance and we'd better get used to It early. She never explained, and she never said anything about our mother. She died when we were eighteen. Mom died giving birth."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I guess you got used to wearing It."

"You could say that. None of us are comfortable with being female. I feel strange every time I put these clothes on."

"Why are you still here?"

"What?"

"Still here. You were screaming at the door. Why not just write me off?"

"Well, I -"

"Stop. No bullshit this time. You think about it. Take as long as you like." She stood up, opened the door, gestured me out.

"I don't want you to hate me."

"I don't hate you. But I haven't forgiven you."

- - -

The next week was no fun. I didn't dare call Vanessa; the other two had written her off. They went back to prowling in their old haunts, on their nights with It. I stepped out of the rotation and let the two of them trade off. I didn't have anybody to use It on anyway, and I didn't feel especially interested in looking.

Eventually Vanessa called. "I figure," she said, "that there are two things you need to do before I'll forgive you. I'm not going to tell you the second one yet. The first one is to go out with me. As Philip."

"But I'm not -"

"Pretend, then. Think of it as a hurdle. An exercise."

"An exercise in what? Endurance?"

"That hurt," she said after a pause.

"Vanessa, I want your friendship. That has nothing to do with my not wanting your body."

"What night's good?"

I sighed. "I'm free tonight. Or any other night."

"Pick me up at seven. Don't forget your penis."

It wasn't too hard talking Paul out of It - I'd forfeited a couple of turns, so I had It coming. I dressed semi-nicely, slacks and a shirt with a collar, shaking my head the whole time. Was she going to want me to have sex with her? I mean, I suppose I could, in the mechanical sense. Was she expecting me to enjoy it?

I knocked on her door right at seven. "Where to?" I asked when we got in the car.

"Dinner."

"And then back to your place?"

"No. Your place."

"Suppose we just skip the object lessons and go home and get it over with?"

"Bastard. If it weren't a date, you'd have dinner with me and enjoy it."

"Is this a date? I thought they didn't exist."

"Let's go to your place," she said, clenching her jaw.

We said nothing the entire drive. Amy and Abby weren't there, thank god.

"Nice," she said, examining both halves of the closet. "Gives 'full wardrobe' new meaning. You dress well as a female ... for someone who doesn't like it."

"I don't want to attract attention," I said, shutting the bedroom door.

"What's that mean?"

"Never mind. So do I undress now?" I said

"You're not even going to try, are you?"

"I am not going to help you pretend you can make me into something I'm not," I said. I took off my pants. "Other than that, do what you like."

"No," she said, sliding up against me, "You are going to do what I like." She rubbed her breasts against my torso. I flinched. "This isn't an exercise for you," she said. "This is for me."

"You're kidding."

"You want to apologize, don't you?" She pulled her dress over her head. "Okay. This part is the apology. Apologize by making me come like there's no tomorrow." She stepped out of her shoes, and pulled off her underwear.

"I've never had sex with a woman!" I shouted. "This is ridiculous! I don't even know what to do!"

"That's why it's an exercise," she said. Now nude, she lay face-up on the bed and spread her legs. "Figure it out."

I finished undressing and knelt on the bed, facing her between her legs. No hope of response from my dick, I knew. "Can I -"

"You can use whatever you want," she said.

I leaned down, brought my mouth near her cunt slowly, inhaled, tried not to shudder. I sat up again.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"I - Damn it! Could you possibly have made this more unsexy?"

And she laughed at me!

She laughed for a long time. Every so often she'd open her eyes and see my face, and then she'd start laughing again. I stared at her, my eyes dripping, crying from the sheer meanness of it without being able to unfreeze my face from the stunned look I must have had, without being able to blink the salt water out.

I couldn't stand up. I couldn't throw her out. I couldn't even call her all the things I was thinking.

Finally she sat up, wiped her eyes, and when she moved her hands away her face had become deadly serious. "Now," she said, "we are even."

I stared. My face was going to fall right off.

"If you ever get the urge to treat me like meat again, you had better damn well remember this. Do you hear me?"

I kept staring.

"Oh, dear," she said, and softened immediately. She moved to me, on her knees across the bed. Hugged me with one arm and wiped my face. "I overdid it, I think. Come here, lie down." I was still not reacting; my limbs and I were having a disagreement. She got me arranged, lying on my back; it must have been like moving a rag doll. She lay next to me. "It's okay. I'm sorry. It was wrong."

I lay there, breathing.

"You are just as beautiful when you're a man," she said.

I turned to look at her. Didn't move anything but my head.

She leaned down over my crotch. Her breath was warm. She reached with one hand and took my penis gently, held it in her fist with the tip sticking out where she could tease it with her tongue. She explored it, getting its shape.

I closed my eyes. I needed to close my eyes.

I heard her chuckle as it got hard in her hand. She squeezed it a little, as if testing it. She loosened her fist so she could move her mouth further down, taking more of it in so she could taste further along, compare tastes and sensations with her mouth.

My eyes still hurt.

She moved away, the wetness she left on my penis cold in the exposed air, making it even harder. I was sure it was standing straight up. I didn't open my eyes to check.

Then I felt softness and heat around it, slowly descending, and her weight coming to rest on my hips - oh, no -

"This is a first," I managed to say.

"Ssh."

She lifted her hips a little, her ass no longer touching my skin but I could feel her hovering above me. Then she slid back down. Little motions. The hot surfaces around my cock moving slowly, cautiously.

Anal sex feels completely different. But I guess I knew that.

She leaned forward, pressing against me as much as she could, hips to hips. I felt her nipples brush against my chest as she lowered her torso almost to mine. She kept moving up and down gently.

I wanted to relax, feeling that this was better and less dangerous than I expected ... and yet my penis was insisting that I keep my whole body at maximum tension, all muscles hardened like an enormous rigid sex toy.

She gasped, a very short noise, and then she sped up. Bigger movements, up and down almost to where I pulled out of her, bigger risks. And she was breathing hard.

I separated out the noises in my head - I was too.

I hoped I was going to be able to deal with this tomorrow.

She ground her hips into mine, and my penis almost couldn't stand it. Then she actually made noise, moaning and getting louder, still moving, and I admit I wondered if Amy and Abby had come home - what would they think of the noise?

Let them wonder.

She tensed - that's what it felt like, clenched muscles I didn't know she could clench. My cock was squeezed from all directions, caught in this tightness ... and as she screamed against me, muffled because her mouth was against my chest now, I came - my face feeling just as hot as my dick.

When her heart had slowed down enough that I couldn't hear it against mine anymore, she lifted herself off slowly, sorely, and rolled to the side to lie against me. She put her head on my chest again.

"I'm sorry," she said, and we fell asleep together without my asking her what she was sorry for.

- - -

I woke up as a female.

It didn't register until I was out of bed. I was more interested in the fact that she'd apparently left while I was sleeping, dressed and gone. Then it struck me - the others wouldn't come in and take It while I was asleep - would they?

I went into the living room. Amy was reading the newspaper and Abby was watching television. "Oh, shit," I said.

We weren't even sure if someone else could remove It - someone who wasn't wearing It at the time, I mean. We'd never tried. But we searched the house. It was definitely missing.

"I don't believe this," I said, hanging up the phone. No answer at Vanessa's.

"You made this mess," Amy said. "You fix it. Go over there and get It back. Wait by her door if you have to."

I sighed and went to shower.

When I got to her place, there was a note on the door.

Alice:

Since Philip is unavailable this evening, perhaps you would like to join me. I am attending a benefit dance. Dress is formal; the men will be wearing tuxedos, the women are expected to wear something spectacular. Judging from your closet, that shouldn't be a problem. Eight o'clock at the Roseland. I'll be unavailable before then, but I hope to see you there. -V

Damn her.

"Back so soon?" Amy said as I stalked in.

"I have to go to a goddamned ball," I said. "Don't you worry about It. She's just playing games with me."

If there was one thing that made me more uncomfortable than being female, it was being female in party clothes. Oh, I owned some; being a woman two-thirds of the time meant some obligations I couldn't dodge. But I was not about to enjoy wearing them.

I arrived at the ball a little late. I did a few turns around the room, looking for Vanessa. Surely I hadn't beaten her here. But I didn't see her. I sighed, and sat in a chair over by the far wall, watching the activity.

"Sitting out?" a voice said on the other side of me. I turned. My god, he was the cutest thing! All men look good in tuxes, of course, but even better with good starting material. And me in this body!

"I don't dance," I said. "I'm actually here to meet somebody."

"You don't dance?" He sat down next to me. "You know, I've never met a woman before who said that. No offense. I usually hear it from the men."

"You date men? Oh. I'm sorry. I mean -"

He laughed, a wonderful chuckle in his throat. "I date anybody who's interesting. Are you sure you don't dance?"

Oh, dear. "I - um - will you be patient when I step on your feet?"

He laughed again. "I'll even give lessons."

So he ushered me out onto the floor by sheer force of charm - not that I resisted much. And I'm not going to tell you that I was suddenly graceful, but I didn't trip over my skirts once, and he didn't seem to think I was ridiculous.

"I have to rest," I said, "and I think take off these shoes for a bit." We moved to the side and I was stunned at the clock. "It's been an hour? How did that happen?"

"Time flies, et cetera. Would you like to check on your friend? Is she waiting somewhere else maybe?"

"No, she's probably doing this on purpose," I said, pulling off my shoes as discreetly as I could. "Another hoop to jump through."

"If she does this on a regular basis," he said, "why do you put up with it?"

I smiled. I had been beginning to wonder if this guy was a figment of my imagination. The return to form was a relief.

"Well, she's a friend. I don't have many of those. I have to hang on to them."

"Someone with your charms, surely -"

"You're very sweet," I said. My charms indeed. Those charms weigh a ton, and the bra chafes. "But that gets lovers. Not friends."

"Perhaps I could go ask at the desk for you? While you rest your feet for the next dance."

I rolled my eyes. "Go ahead; ask away if you like."

He left, and for some reason I started to giggle briefly. Then he came right back - for a moment I thought he'd heard me. "No message, you see," I said.

He looked abashed. "I forgot to ask your name."

I laughed. "Alice. Alice Rideau." He nodded, and was off again. And I hadn't asked his name.

He came back with a glass of sparkling water for me ("You looked thirsty"), and a folded piece of paper with my name on it. "Well! Okay, you get to win that one," I said, unfolding it.

He looked expectant. "She ran into last-minute delays and had to cancel," I said. "So I get to win one too, because I'm not surprised."

"And what plans do you have for the rest of the evening?"

"Do I have to think further than another dance?" I asked.

"Not necessarily."

And we danced. And talked, although I don't remember any of the things we talked about. And we danced some more. And then it was nearly midnight and he was possibly the most interesting male I had ever met, and I wanted very much to see him with that tux off, and I hadn't even asked his name.

Oh, but god, if we did go home together - and I didn't have It!

"I know what you're thinking," he said, as we sat recuperating from the previous dance.

"You do?"

"Yes. So, are we?"

"I - goodness. This isn't usually how -"

He shrugged. On him it looked graceful. "There's an exception for everything."

"Will you be patient when I step on your feet?"

He smiled. "I'll even give lessons."

So we ended up at his hotel room. "Oh -" I said.

"What's wrong?"

"You don't live here?"

"I live pretty far out of town," he said. "I don't like to drive home after a night like that. So for the ball every year, I get a room."

"Ah." He grinned at my visible relief, but didn't take it further.

And then we were kissing. He wasn't hugely tall; I didn't have to strain to reach him or embrace him and I did both. We spun around the room, a private dance that ended up at the bed, where we landed, laughing as we broke up the long kiss.

"I believe," he said, unzipping my dress behind me, "that you are the most interesting woman I've met in a long time."

"I was thinking that about you," I said.

"That I'm an interesting woman?"

"You know what I mean."

He unhooked my bra, and leaned around me - my dress fallen around my lap - and kissed one of my nipples carefully. I squeaked a little and it stood up.

I felt part of my brain starting to panic. I couldn't do this. I'd never done this. I couldn't tell him I'd never done this.

He stood up and slipped out of his clothes almost like he was shrugging them off. No one should be able to get out of a tux that fast. And here I was hoping to buy time to calm down.

"Am I being too quick? I'm sorry," he said. "But for the last hour or so, I've been thinking about nothing except what you look like with that dress off -"

"Only for the last hour?" I said. "I have you beat."

"Oh, well then," he said, and he reclined his nude body on the bed next to me. "It's just that you seemed ... nervous."

"I am," I said. "I'm - not very good at this." I stood up and removed what clothing was still on my body, peeling down my stockings.

"You don't see many women wearing garter belts these days," he observed idly.

"I hate pantyhose," I said. I sat on the bed. "You are nervous," he said. "Lie back."

"What are you going to do?"

"Help you relax," he said, and then - oh god! - his tongue was up and down between my legs and poking into places, and all of a sudden my clit felt like it got very big. Really. At once. I wasn't even aware of it usually, and then it was suddenly there.

He stopped. "You stopped," I said.

"I wasn't sure whether that was a good odd noise or a bad one," he replied.

"Don't stop."

"Must have been a good one then," and he went back to work and I clutched the bedspread with both hands.

He kept going and going and I felt like my clit was going to pop. I remember thinking, so that's what that does. I moaned something.

He stopped again. "What did you say?"

"You. In me." Yes, that had been what I moaned.

"Are you sure?"

"Please," I said. Oh, help.

And then he was above me, and slowly I felt his pretty cock slide inside me, filling, wow - it was - I didn't expect it to feel like that, stretching me out sideways as well as pushing into me. Oh. And for the second time in two days, I thought: Anal sex is amazing. This is amazing. But they're so different!

And then it started to move, and for a little while I forgot there was a human attached. Until I grabbed something and I realized I was squeezing his ass, pulling him in toward me so when he pushed I could feel it more against my clit, his body pressing against it as his penis moved deeper below.

I was making noises I was sure would make me blush if someone played them back later.

I felt him shudder, like his whole body was wriggling, and there was kind of a different sensation inside me ... he must have come, I thought. Damn, and I haven't. Or have I? Would I know it?

Without a word, he pulled out and went back to work with his mouth and tongue, sucking on my clit gently, licking in circles, pressing down on it and nudging it.

And when I came - from my toes to my scalp - I knew it.

I fell asleep afterwards. I thought that was supposed to be a male thing.

When I woke up, he was stepping out of the shower. He looked at me and laughed.

"What?" I said.

"You have the biggest smile on your face. So, which is better, sex as a man or as a woman?"

"I think I need more evidence -" and then my brain caught up.

"You said something about friends or lovers," he said, reaching between his legs. I closed my eyes, waiting for the suction noise. "Ow. Does that always hurt?" Vanessa said. "Anyway, I was thinking. Wouldn't it be great if you had someone who was both?"

I put my hands over my eyes. "You - you couldn't have even known it would work on you -"

"I had no idea. I had another plan first. But this one was better. Fun, too."

"So, is it?"

"Is it what?"

"Better as a man or a woman."

"Oh. You know, I think you're right about the evidence."

"I want to kill you," I said.

"Do you really?" she said, flopping onto the bed next to me.

I closed my eyes again. "No."

- - -

So Vanessa and Philip eventually got married. My siblings and I have each had double IDs for the longest time; Philip is married but Alice isn't. The four of us live together, and Vanessa has, I think, the best of the deal - she has sex with Alice and Philip and sometimes with Paul and sometimes with Peter. They still hunt a lot; they're looking for Vanessas of their own.

I'm still interested only in men, you understand. But there's an exception to everything.

Copyright © September 2000. Do not distribute or reproduce.