Transplanted Life
Friday, September 19, 2003
What have I done?
I am now officially in over my head.

I'd been all set to drop the "let's just be friends" on Kurt last night, before that damn phone call.

It's not just that Michelle said "keep going out with your boyfriend". She probably just meant that as "stay the course", "don't make waves", etc., as opposed to "if you break it off now, you'll be sorry". I still think I've made a good-faith effort with him, and if I broke it off so that he could focus on Denise, I wouldn't feel bad about it.

But, that conversation also gave me boundaries. If what Michelle said is true, I'm most likely looking at six or seven more months in this body - two at the very minimum. If I broke it off with Kurt last night, sure, we could try to be friends, but being friends with an ex isn't something I've been terribly good at, and Kurt hasn't either. Especially when you consider that all the rest of Kurt's friends, like mine, are professionals, scientists, writers, college graduates. Where does a five-years-younger girl with a lower income and no degree fit in, even if she does love baseball?

And I just don't feel like jettisoning every link to my real life. I'm afraid that if I do, Michelle's life will start to feel like my real life... I mean, God, look how acclimated I've got just in two months... what will six more months with no link to my past do to me?

So I figure, maybe I can stretch this out a little longer, and file the breakup speech in the back of my head. When I meet him at the restaurant (after running home to change into some jeans and sneakers), I just smile, kiss him, and act like I don't know about the other girl.

Dinner takes forever to come, and by the time we get to the move theater, the one we wanted to see was sold out (last day for American Wedding), and there was nothing else playing within a half hour that he wanted to see and hadn't seen. He asked what I was going to do now, and I said I'd probably just go home and watch the game. In that case, he says, why not come over to his place? He's got a widescreen TV and NESN's just started broadcasting in high definition. Sounds spiffy to me, so we walk to his apartment.

Now, I've already had a beer with dinner, and as soon as we're in the apartment, he's tossed me another. I'm about to sit in one of the chairs when he pats the couch beside him. Just force of habit; I only been there once since being in Michelle's body, and most of the times I'd come as Martin... Well, guys don't usually share a couch unless they're family; just one of those silly little homophobic habits we have.

I feel like stretching my legs, but the roommate has one of those 3-D puzzle things half-constructed on the coffee table, so I rest my legs on Kurt's lap. He doesn't complain.

Pretty soon my shoes are off and he's massaging my feet. He's really not that good at it, but the thought is nice. We're still mostly watching the game, but we've each gotten another beer. He comments on how cool it is to have a girlfriend who's happy to just share a beer and watch the game; I wonder if he's saying that because the redhead doesn't do that. Sometime in, I think, the seventh inning, he stops massaging my feet and starts tickling them. I giggle, but don't notice that his other hand has moved to my bottom. He gives it a squeeze, and I bolt upright in reaction.

His hand moves from my bottom and up under my blouse, holding me upright so he can kiss me. I'm a little surprised, but it feels good, so I respond, putting one hand behind his head and wrapping the other arm behind his back. I know I sort of freaked before, but after the day, it feels good to hold on to something solid. I barely notice that he's not tickling my feet any more, but his other hand has also gotten under my blouse. Give Kurt this - he's good. I didn't even notice he was working on my bra until I feel him pull it away and start on my breasts.

I'm a beer past thinking rationally at this point; all I can think of is how it's been a while. Sure, I've been pleasuring myself, but you can't be surprised that way. I vaguely recall hearing something about the game being over when he whispered in my ear that we should probably get to his room before the roomie came back, and it sounds good to me.

He carries me, and lays me out on the bed. My blouse is somewhere by the bedroom door, and he's licking my nipples, and I don't think what's coming out of my mouth was even words at that point. The end table by his bed has a drawer, and I know what's in it, and even if Kurt had never told "Martin" about his being prepared, I can see the condom pretty clearly.

He turns away to put it on, giving me a few seconds to use Michelle's alcohol-addled brain. I'd like to say I rapidly sobered up and ran, but in truth what was running through my mind was fear of not going through with it. Just hours ago, I'd been planning to break it off, but now I was thinking of the whole "make an effort" thing, but I wasn't scared of what would happen if I backed off - I was looking at it like a dare, and what guy with a few drinks in him refuses a dare?

The act itself was... Well, it was awfully gratifying. People are hard-wired to enjoy the sensation, and even if my sex organs now seemed sort of inside-out, it kind of felt like that configuration dispersed the good feelings out to my body, rather than focusing it. Not better, not worse, but a different feeling. I came - with all those new erotic sensations, how could I not? - and from the way he went limp, I gather Kurt did too.

I was so glad he fell asleep ten minutes later, though. By then, what I'd done had just hit me, and I really wanted out. I pulled up my pants, put my shirt on, grabbed my shoes and ran. I didn't realize my bra was still in Kurt's living room until I was on the T.

Two months! I hadn't been a woman for more than two months and already I was having sex with a guy. How would I be able to look Kurt in the eye when I got my own body back next year? Or any man, really - I'd crossed a line that I'd never even imagined I would cross, and how could they not be able to tell?

I got to sleep quickly enough - I was exhausted - but woke up a few times in the middle of the night. I've avoided talking to Jen and Kate today. I know girls talk about this stuff in lurid detail, and that's different from writing it down. Besides, I'm afraid Kate will be disappointed in me for giving it up to a guy I know is seeing someone else.

I'm still kind of sick about it. Perversely, I feel kind of insulted that he might be seeing Denise this weekend - I let you inside me and you still have eyes for another woman? - but at the same time, I feel kind of guilty that I may have made that situation more complicated. What if he chooses "Michelle" over her? The Michelle he knows has an expiration date, after all, and he probably won't like the real thing as much.

And the worst part? The worst part is that, despite all of the emotional complication, all the emasculation, and everything else...

I want to do it again.

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