Ralph

It was one of those interminable family parties when it all began. OK, when you're a teenager getting told attendance is mandatory at any family event is bad enough, but a gathering at Uncle Richard's place is a special torture.

I grew up with my cousins living only two blocks away, so we were constant companions. Our families often got together for picnics or parties. This particular party was called to wish me and my cousin Martha goodbye as we went off to college.

Since Uncle Richard is Mom's brother I suppose I should respect him, but to be honest: Uncle Richard is a right bastard. Call him Uncle Dick only at your own risk. He is a dick, but we don't say it out loud, so I usually refer to him as Uncle Bastard. I don't think he'd appreciate the difference, but who cares?

He's six foot six, bald as an egg and has never been wrong in his life. You don't even have to ask, he'll tell you what's wrong with your life and how to fix it. If you don't agree, he's perfectly ready to reinforce his opinion with a clout and a demand to "respect your elders."

I still haven't figured out how Mom and Uncle Richard ended up being born to the same woman. Grandma Linda is a very cool. I spent a lot of time at her place as I was growing up; even she shakes her head when anyone asks how she managed to raise a son so bullheaded and conservative and a daughter so laid-back and liberal. Not that I've asked that question directly, but more than a few have wondered about it. Just let me say I'm glad I ended up with the parents I did.

I didn't have much hope of making it through the gathering without being told just how to behave at college; poor Martha probably had been given her orders already. Since we would also be sharing an apartment I expected a lecture on chastity would be a dominant part of the proceedings.

Chastity? Really? That only shows you don't know Uncle Richard. There's a dirty, suspicious mind under all that pious bullshit. I'm not sure how Mom managed to convince him it was reasonable for us to be in the same apartment, and I'm not going to ask!

My three cousins, Martha, Wendy and Steve, pretty much bear witness to how poorly his philosophy of raising children fares. Wendy and Steve, the two youngest, were left-handers. I emphasize were, because Uncle Richard was convinced that that was a mark of the devil and no kid of his was going to be a sinister character. He beat it out of them, all right, but you can pretty much imagine the results - two cowed, confused and damaged kids. Very obedient, though, and that was enough for my right bastard uncle. Unfortunately, I don't see much of them.

Cousin Martha, the oldest, was fortunate to be a right hander, but she didn't get off scot free. She didn't inherit her father's loathsome personality, but she did inherit his height. At twelve she was 5'11", now at eighteen she's 6'4".

An unusually tall girl in High School can handle it two ways: adopt a mouse-like attitude and crouch down to hide it or stand tall and tell the world (read most our class) to go to hell and shut up about it. Martha was quite ready to tell the world to go to hell, mostly in a polite way, but when the situation called for it she could channel her father's bastard personality to a frightening degree.

Want an example? Even if you don't you're going to get one: Martha was not only unusually tall, but unusually well endowed with size G cups in her bra. If she wasn't my cousin I might have been interested in her myself, but that's another story. (Hey! Maybe Uncle Richard did have something to worry about.)

Anyway, Sammy Carlson had formed the habit of mooing as he passed her in the hall. Martha is used to idiots staring at her and making stupid comments, but Sammy didn't know when to quit. After several days of bovine imitation he added a new fillip: muttering "Udderly incredible!" as the moo faded away.

To continue the bovine metaphor, Martha was sick of this bull and took Sammy by the horns and expressed her displeasure by accurately describing how a farmer "milks" a recalcitrant bull to obtain semen. She offered to demonstrate the process on Sammy using barbed wire restraints and 80 grit sandpaper, then placing the resulting sample deeply up his ass.

She never raised her voice, but her remarkably clear enunciation let just about everybody in the school hallway hear her offer quite clearly. Sammy decided he had milked that "joke" quite enough and just about creamed his jeans right there.

So anyway, to get back to the family gathering, I was seated next to cousin Martha on the couch enduring another of Uncle Richard's slide shows. OK, he had someone transfer all the slides to a computer and showed it on the big-screen TV, but we still call it a slide show. Sadly, we couldn't mutter too many disparaging comments to each other because Uncle Richard has sharp ears, but we did exchange elbow digs and grimaces that couldn't be seen in the darkened room.

Finally the interminable 'slide-show' came to an end and we thought we were finally to be freed from bondage, but it was not to be. Good old Uncle Richard, ignoring the groans from his audience, clicked on one more directory filled with the family history. This one started with my younger sister Terri as a baby and went backward through Stephen, Wendy, my younger brother Dave and finally reached Martha and me. We were born eleven days apart - not surprising as both our fathers had returned on the same two week furlough from duty in the service. Neither one got to come home for the actual birth, so Mom and Aunt Anna spent a lot of time together when we were but mewling babes.

Time had taken its toll on the slides, so we got to see fuzzy, red tinted images of ourselves from birth to about two years old. The final slide, for a wonder, was crystal clear and in true color. There we were, two adorable little girls in matching dresses. It must have been taken at a wedding or something like that, those dresses weren't something any sane parent would let a child wear without strict supervision. I gave Martha an elbow dig, but then I read the legend hand printed on the picture: Ralph and Martha at Ellen's Wedding.

Yeah, right! You can just bet that Uncle Bastard was saving that one to embarrass me. Now, I've alluded to how Martha can stand up to a bully, but I am no slouch at lobbing bombs myself, verbal, I assure you! Uncle Bastard had never been loath to display his homophobia, so I figured the perfect response would be a challenge to his prejudices.

"Hey, that was a lot of fun. Martha, can I borrow one of your dresses? We can do a new picture, kind of like those then and now things in the paper."

"Do you think my skirts might still fit you? You've only got an inch on me, cousin," she replied with a grin - fortunately hidden in the darkened room.

It got the desired response from Uncle Richard, as he began to grumble and growl, but what I hadn't thought through was that there were other people in the room. Like my Mother.

"If it keeps you out of my underwear drawer then I'm all for it!"

Whoa!

"Awww Mom!"

Yeah, I knew she knew about my crossdressing; she's always been cool, but the details will come later in the story. The upside was Uncle Bastard was rendered speechless.

"Does that mean we have to pack two suitcases for him when he enters the world of higher education?" my Dad inquired.

"Nah! He'll have to get his own stuff, he outgrew mine long ago."

Too bad it was still dark; from the sounds that Uncle Bastard was making, his face must be a sight. Mom always said it was way too easy to get him worked up when they were kids. I guess nothing much had changed - except he was getting worked up at me.

"Richard, you're going to have a stroke if you don't calm down!"

That was Aunt Anna. At six foot five Uncle Bastard wasn't the only one contributing tall genes to my cousins. She was always deferring to Uncle Bastard until she got her way - a pretty smart lady. I can't see what she saw in him to keep her in the marriage, but what do I know?

"Calm down! Our daughter is going to live in the same house as a pervert and I should calm down?"

It was at that point Aunt Anna turned on the lights and we all sat there stunned and blinking as we adjusted to the light. The silence was broken by Aunt Anna's peals of laughter.

"God Richard! Aren't you ever going to be able to know when your sister is pulling your chain?"

"Huh?" Uncle Bastard looked confused; Mom looked downright smug.

"Little brother, you are so easy to get cranking. Anyone as bald as you are really needs to keep your temper under control. Harry, would you call that color puce or carmine?"

"Carnelian, perhaps, although it is fading."

"C'mon Daddy!" chimed in Martha, "I make a lousy joke and you go ballistic. Besides, I wouldn't share my underwear with anyone."

I was thinking I would need a couple of weather balloons to stuff one of Martha's bras if I wore it, but good sense kicked in and I remained silent.

"I'm sorry brother. Someday I'll grow up but it's so easy to push your buttons I just can't resist."

If you look in the dictionary for the definition of "glower" you'll find Uncle Richard's picture taken at that moment.

Aunt Anna spent a few more minutes soothing my agitated Uncle and Mom and Dad decided it was time to head for home, much to my relief. On the way out, Martha whispered "You can still wear my dresses when we share the apartment in the fall, Mary."

"And you can still wear mine. Won't it be nice not to have to hide?"

Ralph

There was silence in the family car for short interval. Finally Mom, turned to me and said "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Ralph, but I guess I'll never grow up when it comes to teasing my brother."

"It must be a constant temptation with someone as rigid as Uncle Richard. I'm glad I was born on this side of the family. There's no way he'd really believe I like to wear dresses and no way in hell he would believe you don't mind."

"Sometimes the best way to lie is to tell a truth that nobody wants to believe."

"How come you didn't teach me that bit of philosophy when I was a kid?"

"Because we still had hopes of being good parents back then," offered Dad. "Now it's obvious you figured it out for yourself so we can admit it."

"If it wasn't against the rules I'd tell you I think you're good parents."

"Whose rules are we talking about? Richard's?"

"Nah! It's too easy to break his rules. In fact, I kind of enjoy breaking his rules, and so does Martha."

"If he realized that picture was only the beginning of you two playing dress-up together he'd have a stroke."

"How did you and Aunt Anna manage to get us those dresses without Uncle Richard going ballistic?"

"Actually, you and Martha put up such a fuss when we wanted you to wear a suit to the wedding we gave in to save our hearing. We got away with it because Richard was out of town and didn't know until he found the slide when he had them digitized."

"How come you got all the 'relaxed fit' genes and Uncle Richard got the 'skintight strangle your crotch' genes?" my brother Dave asked.

"Ask Darwin. He's the one who talked about survival of the fittest. My genes fit me very comfortably, thank you."

"So how did I get genes that make me like dresses instead of jeans?"

"I guess your Uncle hogged all the macho genes so there weren't any left in the pool. Besides, your father made a contribution, you know."

"Glad to know I'm considered part of this family."

"And I'm glad I got you for a father and not Uncle Richard. I just don't get how anyone can live their life wound so tight."

"Don't quote me," Dad responded, "but I suspect it's partly how he is made and partly from his time in the service. You know we were both in the service at the same time when the powers-that-be decided to hold another war?"

"I'm told that's how Martha and I got to be here."

"That's another story. Well, the job fairy made me a dental assistant and I never even came close to combat. Richard wasn't so lucky and had a lot of people shooting at him. That changes a man. I hope none of you hooligans ever have to find out first hand how that works. The people who live through combat like that learn to do things by the book and obey without question or they end up dead."

"When you put it like that..."

"I'd say combat reinforced Richard's natural tendencies."

"I think you're right, Harry," Mom said. "He wasn't quite as bad before he was in the service."

"It's a price some people pay so the rest of us don't have to keep looking over our shoulders for the storm troopers. Sadly, it's a price some people pay for ambitious and venal political leaders who don't give a crap about anyone but themselves. In any case, Richard paid it."

"I never thought about it like that."

"That's why I brought it up. The hell that Richard went through is part of the reason both you and him can have such different outlooks on life and still be part of the same society. There are no easy answers, son. It's easy to come up either-or, black-and-white answers; you don't have to think too hard to do it. Your Mom and I try our best to be flexible and look at the complete picture before we spout off."

"That's why we were determined to be non-sexist raising you bunch of hooligans," Mom took over, "and it worked better than we ever expected. It wasn't easy to realize that you loved to dress up in skirts, but it's never easy to stick to your principles when they conflict with the societal norms. You and Martha have always made cute twin girls, even if you both scrape the ceilings in your beehive hairdos."

"I wouldn't be caught dead in a beehive hairdo! Too retro for me - I like the natural look."

"You can thank your mother's heritage for the genes that let you have that natural look without much shaving. I wanted a beard in the worst way when I was your age."

"I'll have to thank gramps and grandma sometime!"

"That can wait; living with Martha will be enough of a challenge for now."

"Especially when Richard comes for a visit. You two made any plans for that?"

"Good thing we're far enough away to make that unlikely."

"Unlikely or not, keep it in mind. Just remember Richard's responsible for the rent on her half of the place," Dad reminded me. "We just bought the place, but the mortgage payments are due every month. Your Grandfather did the same for my sister and me when we went to school; a whole lot cheaper than four years of room and board at the dorms if you have the down payment. Keep Richard happy - he gets too torqued off, you and your cousin will be homeless."

"Propriety shall be my watchword."

I assume you and Martha will be spending much of your time as sisters?"

"Depends on how generous you guys are with my clothing allowance. Dressing for two can be expensive; neither of us can find much to fit in a thrift shop."

"My wallet aches just thinking about it! Your poor siblings will have to run around naked if you stop doing computer wizardry to buy your second wardrobe."

"Wouldn't Terri without any clothes torque off Uncle Richard?" My brother Dave can always see the bright side of a problem.

"I think I'll wait until I graduate before I join a nudist colony." My sister is more practical than I am. "I'd invite you for a visit but how would anyone know you're a crossdresser without any clothes?"

"The whole idea is that nobody realizes I'm a crossdresser, sis. Clothes make the woman, you know."

"Especially in your case. Maybe you should get a job selling poor, unsuspecting women bras and panties like those silly stories you read."

"That sounds like a fine idea to me," said Dad. "Your sister is getting to be too old to run around naked."

"I'll settle for a new string bikini, Dad. It won't cost that much, there's hardly any fabric in it."

"Don't get your hopes up, sis. Fooling around with computers pays a lot more than retail, how do you think I got my wardrobe when I outgrew Mom's stuff? Besides, can you imagine me in a lingerie shop hulking over some five foot tall teenie-bopper trying to recommend the right teddy to seduce her boyfriend? You've seen how people look at Martha on the street, and she's the genuine article.

"Which reminds me, Ralph," Dad offered, "while you've gotten to be almost believable as your cousin's sister, you do need to be careful when you go out in public. As a wise man I would never criticize a woman's body, but you have a steep learning curve, I fear."

"You don't have to tell me that, Dad. I just hope Martha can help me with more than schoolwork."

"If you haven't figured that out after all those tea parties where she dressed you up, you must be a slow learner."

Brothers can be a real pain in the ass.

"Hey, it's only been a year since I admitted to all of you I really like to dress up. I haven't had that much practice. I try to model myself on my cousin."

"She's one tough cookie, you know. If anyone knows how to present as a very classy tall woman, Martha is the one. Just don't do anything stupid when you're on your own."

"Like wanting to dress like a woman whenever I can?"

"Stupid? These days that's still pretty odd, but hardly stupid. You have a lot of company in your desires. I would think a liberal college town would be a pretty safe place to try out your new persona. Just stay out of bars, OK?"

"Now that would be stupid. Strictly tea rooms and ladies garden club meetings for me."

"Tea rooms? I have a hard time picturing you in a pastel suit with a big, floppy hat, holding a cup of tea with your pinky sticking out."

"Which goes to show your lack of imagination, little brother. We modern women can do anything we set our minds to. You, as a hopeless Neanderthal male, are limited to grunting and loping after wounded saber-toothed tigers while your former girlfriend laughs her head off."

"Children!" reproved Mom, "If you can't say anything nice…"

"Go into politics where it won't be noticed," cut in Dad.

"Harry, you're not helping."

"At least I'm not grunting and chasing a kitty cat."

"And I wouldn't eat that poor kitty-cat if you did catch it," Terri threw in.

"We seem to have drifted somewhat afield from Ralph's feminine aspirations. Could we get back on the subject? Like how to balance the masculine, feminine and schoolwork?"

"I think I have that part straight," I replied. " Ralph-the-boy will be the one to attend classes. Mary-the-girl stays in the apartment until I think she's ready to meet the public. She won't be attending classes or doing anything to draw attention to herself."

"I knew we raised a sensible child, if such a concept can be applied to this situation," Dad commented.

"Well, so far I haven't found anything sensible in crossdressing and I'm the one doing it!"

"Janet, we're raising a hippie! 'If it feels good, do it!' - the anthem of our generation."

"Please don't start singing again, Dad!" Stereo from Dave and Terri.

"Talkin' 'bout m' gener... Ouch!"

"Harry, we were just extolling the virtues of not attracting undue attention to our flaws. Set a good example for the children."

"Are you insinuating my vocal abilities are flawed?"

"No I'm stating it directly. Your singing sucks, dear, but you have redeeming qualities that I will not mention in front of the children."

"Early bedtime tonight, kids. For all of us!"

"Harry!"

Ralph

"Stop the car!" I shouted.

"What do you think this is, some detective movie with the hero commandeering a ride?"

"No! I think it's junk day. Look over there on the curb."

"A busted up sofa, half a bicycle and a few giant bags of trash."

"No, back there - you passed it. A vanity."

"Good lord! You aren't vain enough about wearing dresses you have to get more from the trash?"

"Not that kind of vanity. The kind with a mirror and makeup lights. For my new apartment."

"Oh goody! Now I'll have to hire an 18-wheeler to get you there instead of a U-haul."

"Dad! I've told you a million times not to exaggerate."

"Far be it from me to point out you still need a lot of help with your figure - or figures. Hey - that thing doesn't look too bad. A little paint and it should be fine. Takes me back to when your Mom and I were starving students and furnishing our place from roadside pickings. We thought we had it made when we could afford to shop at the Salvation Army."

"Did you get saved as well as saving money?"

"Nah - when I tried to sing along with the band they threw me out."

"I guess that shows not all Bible-Thumpers are crazy."

"Hey, you want this thing then show some respect - and grab an end. I'm not moving it all by myself."

"Good thing I'm not dressed up, I need my muscles to move this thing."

"Your muscles atrophy when you wear a dress? Quick! Call the people at the research lab - this is a new phenomenon that deserves exploration."

"You're weird, Dad. I'm speaking culturally, of course."

"I'm weird? You ever heard the one about the pot and the kettle, son-or-daughter-as-the-case-may-be?"

"That old chestnut is too subject to misinterpretation in our current racially charged political scene."

"Quit with the politics and get this thing in the van, already!"

"Thanks, Dad - I appreciate this."

"Just remember – it's yours and you get to do the work to restore it. You only have a couple of weeks until you leave, so don't put it off."

"I can get Martha to help me - she has very good taste in decorating."

"I still don't know how your mother talked her brother into letting you two share an apartment. I was half expecting the old control freak to install a video monitoring system and hire 24 hour security to keep any boys away from her when she was at school. Then he goes and agrees to her sharing the place with someone he sincerely believes is a boy..."

"Hey - If Mom could talk you into marrying her she can do anything."

"You may have a point there. I'll just chalk it up to the vagaries of the universe and let you two work out how to do it."

"Sort of like how you and Mom decided to let me figure out the whole crossdressing thing?"

"Well, I'm sure not qualified to give you any advice on the subject."

"No, I mean like not going ballistic when Martha and I played dress-up. And not laughing too hard at what I look like."

"Now that was probably the hardest part of the whole thing! I hope they offer makeup classes at your school - and that you study real hard."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Think nothing of it."

"Easy for you to say. I spend a lot of time thinking about it."

"I suppose your mother and I do, too."

"Yeah, like why does he do it and is he crazy."

"You can throw in is it our fault? too. And no, we realize that it's nobody's fault. You're just you and that's OK. Hard to fathom, but OK. Actually, you're getting pretty good at looking like a girl. Sorry, woman. I sometimes have a hard time thinking of my children as grown up."

"Sometimes I have a hard time thinking of myself as a grownup. Especially when I'm dressed up - I feel more like a teeny-bopper with the whole makeup and fashion thing."

"Yeah - that's the part I find baffling, son. Why in the world would you want to spend all that time with makeup and hair-styling and... Sure, you look pretty good when you get done, but I can't imagine having to do it every blessed day! Hell, I hate shaving, which is why I let the beard grow. Makeup? Not my cup of tea!"

"I like it, it's kind of fun."

"De gustibus..."

"What the heck?"

"Latin for 'There's no accounting for taste.' "

"Oh."

"Have your considered that having this makeup table in your bedroom it might make Richard a bit curious. You know he's going to have to check things out."

"I keep the door locked?"

"I can't think of a better way to get the man curious. Good thing there's only two bedrooms in your place or they just might get a wild hare and drop in for an overnight visit to see how their little girl is doing."

"Are you trying to give me nightmares? ...And no one could consider Martha little."

"All in a father's job.

"Actually, I'm thinking we set it up in the common area so Martha and I can share it."

"Brings to mind the Chinese ideogram for trouble - two women under one roof."

"Good thing we only have one and a half women, then."

"I suspect you're about to get an education - and I'm not talking about college."

Ralph

"Sometimes parents come in handy."

Martha was sitting on one of the many boxes adorning our new apartment. I'm glad we weren't the ones who had to lug that vanity in."

"Macho has its uses."

"Just not in our apartment."

"I guess I'll have to find Mary somewhere in all these boxes."

"First let me check to see if Daddy planted any bugs."

"Are you serious?"

"Nah - he's a Luddite and I would have spotted anything if his imagination ran that far."

"Still clueless about Mary?"

"Unless you're talking about the one in the bible. This Martha's cousin Mary is off the radar."

"He did give me a turn with that slide show. I guess I still have some guilt feelings to resolve."

"Sounds like a job for retail therapy."

"Not on my budget. I have Macy's taste and a Wal-mart income. Besides, we have to put this stuff away before we bring in any more."

"Spoilsport. Well, find Mary's stuff first. Mom slipped me a few bucks so we can go out to dinner tonight.

"Wow! That was a short-lived promise."

"What promise were you talking about?"

"The one about not letting Mary go public until I was ready to fool people."

"You're as ready as you'll ever be, cuz. It will be nice to have a girlfriend as tall as I am to deflect the attention."

"Just what I need, close inspection of my presentation."

"Hey - they'll have to split their attention with two of us."

"You'll help with my makeup?"

"Sure, if you'll do my zipper."

"You want to go formal?"

"Sure, why not? If you got it, flaunt it."

"But I don't got it."

"Then we'll fake it, at least with your fake boobs, anyway. Too bad we can't split my boobs between us - these babies are a pain sometimes."

"We'd look pretty weird with only one boob apiece."

"You're hopeless."

"You're undoubtedly correct, but that's not getting anything unpacked."

"Clothes first, then essentials like makeup and shoes."

"Mind if I make my bed?"

"Your mother already did that for you. "

"Then I guess I'm out of excuses. Stand back while I unpack."

Mary

"Do you get the feeling we've been dropped into a Star Wars bar scene?" I asked Martha.

The crowd in the pizza joint could have been used to film one of those 'diversity' commercials.

"Not the kind of place you'd find in our lily-white suburb, is it?"

"Kind of interesting, though. It looks like I'm the token blue-eyed blonde here."

"If it helps, you're a minority yourself as a crossdresser."

"And as very tall women we have another box to check off."

"If they have a 'dumb blonde' box you'd better keep your hands off the pencil, cousin."

"Since we're both here on scholarships we can safely be excluded from that minority."

"I kind of like being part of a crowd like this. I bet there would be a lot of interesting stories if we could get to know some of the people here."

"I'm sure we'll be making lots of friends pretty soon."

"Hope they're lots of liberals around so I don't get too much grief about Mary."

"I suppose a Liberal Arts College is a good place to find liberals."

"This isn't how I pictured my first time out as Mary."

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know - something elegant and different. Clubbing at some upscale bar, dancing in a ball gown and tiara, Prince Charming getting freaked out when midnight struck and I turned back into a pumpkin."

"Pizza and wings works for me, cuz"

"Well, it is good pizza..."

"Just not so elegant?"

"Yeah."

"Enjoy it while it lasts. In another week this place will be full of horny guys and it'll take them about three and a half minutes to work up the courage to put the moves on the two tall chicks. If they're frat boys they'll assign a point score to each of us and be playing for bragging rights if they get us into bed. I'd get a few extra points with these big boobs, you know."

"So young, yet so cynical. Not all men are..."

"Remember, you're not a man right now. I know you're a nice guy, but a girl has to be practical. You're fucked if you don't think every guy is out to fuck you. And every male of college age has one tiny brain – and it's between his legs. And it thinks about sex. And only sex."

"Run that by me again? Where do I fit in with 'every male of college age', mmm?"

"You know what I mean. Don't tell me it hasn't occurred that since we're sharing an apartment we might have been sharing a bed."

"Ewww!"

"When you're inspired your feminine voice is developing nicely. I agree - but don't tell me the thought hadn't crossed your mind. If you weren't my cousin I'd be thinking 'healthy, young, good looking dude - wonder what he'd be like in the sack?' Present appearance excepted. Are you sure your male brain never thought that?"

"And I'd be thinking 'Uncle Bastard has that big shotgun.' But no, since the dressing-up started before I knew anything about sex, the idea of sex with you, doesn't compute."

"I suppose if he ever found out about Mary he'd be trying to decide if protecting my virginity was worth having me live with a pervert."

"Life is full of hard choices, like 'should we get anchovies on the pizza?' "

"Not hard at all - only a pervert puts anchovies on a pizza."

"And you are expounding this philosophy to a man in a dress?"

"Cousin Mary shouldn't need any further explanation. Anchovies are disgusting."

"And I'm not?"

"Of course not. You're a lot more fun than my real sister - dad's fucked her up pretty bad."

"Tell me again - how did you end up a bleeding heart liberal with a father like Uncle Bastard?"

"I must have landed on a flotation cushion when I jumped into the gene pool. I must be loaded with recessive liberal genes that nobody else in the family expressed."

"You must have gotten more of your mom's genetics - nobody's ever going to think she voted for Bernie Sanders, but she does have class and compassion. How does she put up with your dad?"

"Love, cuz; true love. Damned if I understand it, but it's real. Dad's not so bad when he's not trying to prove he's macho to the world at large. Sometimes I think he learned how to be a man from the WWF and the KKK."

"Unlike me, he wouldn't be caught dead in a white dress."

"Details! He has his good points. He does love us, he can be a pretty good dad when he isn't trying too hard. It just took me a long time to learn how to see his good points and even longer to understand what makes him tick. "

"Like a time-bomb?"

"Well, there are times. I'm glad I don't have to cope with any macho from you, cuz."

"Not likely!"

"I don't think I've ever asked directly, but why do you like to dress up like a woman?"

"How the heck should I know?"

"But you're the one doing it!"

"Why do you want to dress like a woman?"

"Because... Wait a minute! You're getting me confused!"

"And you think I'm not?"

"Let's start over with a simpler question. Why would a man want to wear a bra? I have to or I would be in agony with these damned things hanging off me. There's no earthly reason for you to wear a bra. So what gives?"

"I think you've got it wrong - I actually need to wear a bra because it feels so good. It's pleasant, it's comforting. I dream of having real breasts, not silicone fakes. It bothers me when I have to go for a long time without wearing one and dressing up. I don't understand it, but it's real."

"I'm trying to understand. For me breasts are an enormous bother. Quit grinning when I use the word enormous about my boobs, you not-so-male chauvinist pig! There's nothing funny about having a 'G' cup."

"Attractive, though, from my point of view."

"You try hanging 6.2 pounds of boob on your chest all day and all night and tell me about attractive."

"You weighed them?"

"What? You think I can detach them and put them on a scale? I just might if I could I'd scoop out a couple of pounds before I put them back. I looked it up online and Wikipedia has a chart, although lord knows why anyone would want to know."

"You wanted to know."

"I know we both wear a 40 band size, but you seem satisfied with a 'C' cup, Mary."

"I am, and I guess I'm lucky that silicone doesn't weigh as much as real breasts. My falsies weigh less than two pounds."

"I guess I'm not the only one interested in how much boobs weigh."

"I wish I had two good reasons to find out, cousin."

"Oh, shit!"

"It can't be that bad!"

"No more boob talk, Mary. Look what just walked in."

Suddenly the pizzeria seemed to contract as a veritable horde of frat boys poured through the door.

"Jeez - are they shipping them in by the busload?"

"So it seems. You, my dear cousin, are about to find out what it feels like to be chatted up."

"Maybe we should leave?"

"Too late. It has to happen sometime, so why not now? At least these guys have to be sophomores so we won't have to deal with any of our fellow freshmen fishing around for an ancient pickup line."

"I suppose if I just sit here and don't move there's less to give me away."

"I could stand up and holler 'Hey boys! You looking for a good time?' "

"Martha!"

"Relax, Mary. I'm pulling your chain. You might want to wipe the sauce off your left boob, though."

I wiped, very self-consciously.

"How do you manage to stay clean with all those assets?"

"I have a lot of practice. Speaking of practice - we've been noticed. Want to bet on which one works up the nerve first?"

"Too late - the skinny blonde one is headed our way."

The skinny blonde one swaggered over and pulled out one of the unused chairs at our table and sat down.

"Hi! I'm Steve. You girls new here?"

"Mary, I think we need to go to the admissions office first thing in the morning and see if we can get our tuition back. If the sophs at this place can't tell the difference between girls and women we aren't going to get a very good education here."

His confident smile began to fade a bit. I didn't trust my voice yet, so I just gave him my #6 smile - faint amusement with a dollop of derision. Don't tell anyone, but I had been practicing in my mirror while trying to perfect my feminine demeanor.

"My apologies, ladies. No offence intended. I just found it hard to ignore two such beautiful..." His glance lingered on Martha's two breasts. "...women in this place."

"I'll bet. Speaking of betting, how much is riding on you getting me to tell you my cup size?"

"Ten bucks?" The smile faded further.

"An honest frat boy! Mary, will wonders never cease?"

I tried a #12 - sweet innocence with an overlay of surprise - but kept my silence.

"Tell you what. Spring for an order of cannoli and I'll tell you."

"You will?"

"40G. Bring them over here and join us."

"Lady, you have a deal!"

Steve turned out to be a pretty nice guy when he wasn't trying to be macho. I mostly relied on expression #27a - mystery woman with a soupcon of yearning. I have to admit that I was mostly channeling Keith Laumer's Retief for these numbered expressions, but the last one was my own. I seriously doubt that Jame Retief ever tried to project mystery woman.

I even got the nerve to talk a little bit, and I'll give him credit. He tried to look at our faces, but occasionally he talked to my boobs when he wasn't looking at those 40Gs.

We made it home in one piece, our cell phone numbers still safely a mystery to Steve and his brothers. As I was putting on my nightgown I was pleased at how well my first public outing went.

Mary

The first couple of weeks at school were fun, if a bit confusing. I loved being able to be Mary whenever I wasn't at class, but it didn't take long to be bored with staying indoors all the time. Our one foray out together just wasn't enough.

Then there was the problem of friends. In my innocence I hadn't realized how many freshmen want to be friends with someone who has their own place. I had never lived in a dorm (for which I am profoundly grateful!) so I was amazed at all the people that wanted to visit. That wasn't the only reason. I haven't really emphasized it before, but her height and breasts aren't the only reasons people give Martha a second glance. She is a fine looking woman; if I abandon my role as a cousin and part-time woman I have to admit she's worth looking at.

In other words, my quiet days at home as Mary were very limited. I won't say the wolves were howling at the door, but you know what I mean.

Hiding Mary was getting to be a pain, not to mention a logistical challenge of the first water, so we sat down and decided we could both live with it if the secret was no longer secret. If Martha could take being stared at then so could I.

I hoped.

There was a knock on the door.

It opened.

"Hey Mary, we need a little help out here."

I had been studying in my room while Martha and two of her friends were talking about an English assignment. Well, to be truthful I was mostly hiding in my room, putting off the day when Mary became public.

That day appeared to be here.

"Guys, this is my cousin Mary. She's a computer nerd and ought to be able to help. Shelly's tablet is acting weird."

"Android or I-pad?" I managed to ask.

"Android. We can't get the thing to go on line with your Wi-Fi."

"You know the password?"

"Danica Rome."

"R-o-e-m? No spaces, capital 'D', capital 'R' and a zero in place of the 'o'?

"Shit! I thought it was R-o-m-e."

"That's not the password, either. You know the old saying: Rome wasn't built in a day and neither was she."

"All us statuesque women know that." chimed in Martha.

"Smartass!"

"That's not where I keep my brains."

"Careful, cousin. Statuesque women by definition have rocks in their head - being made of marble."

"Anyone who knows who Danica Roem is can't have rocks in their head, cousin. And supposedly nowhere else on her body any more."

"So who is Danica Roem?" asked Shelly.

I suppose it was my fault because I chose the password. I hadn't thought it would bring up the subject of transgenderism quite so quickly.

"The first transgendered legislator in Virginia, replied Martha. "She beat the pants off the asshole that authored the bathroom bill."

"Cool!"

"Yeah, she scares the bejesus off the good ole Southern Gentlemen of the House of Delegates. Why they've even been dragged kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century and adopted gender neutral language in the place just so they don't have to call her a her."

"So the conservatives are adopting a liberal policy to stay conservative? Asked Pat, who had been silent so far. "I'll never understand politics!"

"Which is why you want to be a teacher, not that politics is completely divorced from that profession."

"All this because I couldn't get online. How did you come up with that for a password, anyway?"

"You might say she's spiritual cousin of ours," I offered. In for a penny...

"One of our cousins is a crossdresser," added Martha.

"Really?"

"Really. She's also a statuesque woman and certainly no rockhead."

"I should hope not. It's bad enough people take me for an airhead because I'm blonde. Now that this thing is working I'm going to look her up."

"You do that - I have to get back to the books myself. See you later."

I beat a hasty retreat and waited for my heart to stop pounding.

Ralph

Lest you think my time at college was devoted exclusively to being Mary, I did attend classes, make friends and do a lot of other stuff. After a few weeks I was starting to get a reputation - or rather several reputations.

The first one wasn't new to me, after all I am 6'5" tall and kinda stand out in a crowd. Most people have stopped asking me why I'm not playing basketball (one of the reasons I was interested in this school was it didn't have a basketball team.) or how the weather is up there. That stuff gets a little old.

The second one was being the guy who shares an apartment with "Girlzilla." That's one of the less nasty references people used, but I tended to make sure anyone using them wouldn't repeat them after I set them straight. While such crap pisses me off, I am really being a good Samaritan. I've mentioned how Martha can defend herself when the situation demands; such assholes will never know the pain I've saved them.

The third reputation is because computers understand me and I understand them. Not to brag, but I have a few shareware programs out there that have earned me a nice little side income. It was this third reputation that had caught up with me now.

"Hey Ralph! I need some help from the computer genius."

"Who you calling a genius, Artur?"

"You, you lousy computer nerd."

"I suppose I resemble that remark."

"You resemble Ichabod Crane, too, but he don't know nothing about recursive programming."

"And what makes you think I know more than a headless geek from the nineteenth century?"

"Because you never look confused when the prof explains something complicated in class."

"That's because I've mastered the art of sleeping with my eyes open."

"I may as well be cuttin' Zs for all the good it does me."

"You need to be in the right frame of mind to understand. Think of a snake eating its tail. It keeps on taking bite after bite until it eats itself into oblivion. That's recursive programming."

"The only place I've ever eaten myself into oblivion is at the Golden Corral."

"They have just about everything else on the menu, so I don't doubt you could find some snake in one of the steam trays."

"You're changing the subject. Recursive programming…"

"I'm not going to be able to explain it before I have to be in class. Why don't you come over on Saturday and we can give it a try?"

"Thanks. I know where you live - you share the place with that sexy bean-pole, don't you?"

"Careful, Artur. She's my cousin and making comments about a woman's body can get you into a lot of trouble these days."

"Message received. I wasn't trying to be a jerk, really."

"I know - it comes so naturally it's kind of hard to turn it off."

"You know me so well. Your cousin seeing anyone?"

"Not that I know of. You interested?"

"Who wouldn't be?"

"You'd be surprised at how many guys she can intimidate with just a glance. A lot of men can't hack being shorter than their date."

"Their loss, my gain. If she likes me, that is."

"She's as crazy as I am, she just might."

"Does that mean you like me?"

"Don't push your luck, Artur."

"You're hard, dude."

Mary

Someone started a rumor that Saturday morning comes once a week. I'm afraid I missed it, so I can't tell you if it's true or not. Look, when you have to get up for an 8:00 AM class you sleep in when you can. I vaguely recall thinking, sometime when enough light penetrated my eyelids to make me grumble about it, that I had the whole weekend as Mary. Not even that happy thought got me out of bed before the crack of noon.

By the time I was dressed and had my makeup done, I heard the noon siren blowing outside my window. That's one of the joys of living in a small town, they still test the fire sirens daily at noon. I guess I should be glad they don't do it at 7:00 AM or something obscene like that.

By the time Martha and I staggered into the kitchen we realized that there was only one egg in the refrigerator and the milk was missing in action. No coffee, no eggs, enough pancake mix for about half a waffle - it looked like we were going out for breakfast and some grocery shopping. At least the weather gods had decided to gift us with a rare warm October day, so all we needed was a light sweater to go out. I had discovered that my parka was a bit too small to accommodate Mary's breasts comfortably and needed to find something larger, not to mention more fashionable. Naturally, I had put off doing something about it until there was a little more money in my purse, much like the reason we had to go grocery shopping instead of lazing around the place on a Saturday.

So we each dug out a reusable bag from the closet and made out way to the bus stop. That's another reason for the empty kitchen, it's a pain to lug groceries home on the bus. Not that we went directly to the local Kroger's, there were lots of distractions on the way.

The first stop was the Jilly Hog, which could be called the archetypal college pig-out palace. The building was shaped like a Conestoga wagon and a much faded sign proclaimed The best footlong hot dogs on the planet. I suppose it was a good thing that our first meal out on arriving was at the pizza place, because the Jilly Hog might have us fleeing in panic before the first class started.

The story goes that someone named Jill started the place back in the 1940s, and they proudly claimed their hot dogs were 100% pork - no fillers or additives. I guess someone had been reading Upton Sinclair's The Jungle and wanted to let people know they wouldn't be poisoned despite the appearance of the place. The Jilly Hog deep fried their hot dogs, and the image of an elderly woman throwing a handful of snake-like footlong hot dogs into a fryer was enough to make anyone think about being a vegetarian.

Actually, despite all the jokes, it is a pretty good place to eat and they serve a mean breakfast. Thus fortified, and with both bosoms checked for telltale stains, we made our way onward, pausing to dream about a manicure outside the nail shop, but we did take advantage of the half price nail polish sale at the Walgreen's so we could do our own later in the afternoon.

Hoping against hope we tried the Goodwill, but, once again, there wasn't a thing in the place that would fit either of us and looked good enough to take home. We had better luck at the fabric store, there was some lovely green print at 70% off, so we took all they had left. When you're a woman as tall as we are you better learn to sew or you're going to be mighty short on nice clothes. Martha had long since learned how to modify a pattern to accommodate her 40Gs, and I had no problem with the pattern as it came, so we were going to be wearing a couple of matching green blouses for Christmas. Not that we could wear them at Martha's place, but there had to be a party or two on campus where we could try them out.

We did finally make it to the Kroger's and waddled on to the bus with several bags of groceries to keep the wolf away from the door for the next week. As we rounded the corner with our purchases I realized I had completely forgotten I had offered to help Artur on Saturday, but there he sat on our front steps.

Artur was in for a shock as I had never told him about my alter ego. I had grown so comfortable as Mary in the past few weeks I hadn't given a thought to what would happen when I met someone who only knew me as Ralph. Mary wasn't much of a secret any more with most of Martha's friends knowing about me, but I didn't think any of the computer nerds I hung out with had gotten the message yet. I hate to feed the stereotype, but most of us computer types, female geeks included, were obsessed with coding or hardware or games - not much attention left for the outside world.

Artur's face brightened when he saw Martha approaching; yeah, he was interested all right. I counted myself lucky he was concentrating on her and not the other tall chick beside her

Martha was pretty quick on the uptake. "Hi, I'm Ralph's cousin Martha. Are you looking for him?"

"Yeah. He was going to help me with some computer stuff."

"He's pretty good at that stuff. I wouldn't be half as good with a keyboard if I hadn't had his help."

"I hope he can help me."

"I'm sure there's someone here who can do the job, but first you should meet my cousin Mary."

"Hi Artur." I held out my hand.

"You know my name?"

Ooops. Ah well, face up to it! "I do, just like you know one of my names. I bet you're confused."

"You'd win that bet."

It took an effort, but I broke character as Mary and used my normal voice.

"Too bad there's no money riding on it. Artur, I hate to shock you but when I'm not wearing a skirt you know me as Ralph."

"Get out!"

I think he was convinced, so I went back to Mary's voice. Artur wasn't the only one getting confused.

"How many six foot plus people do you think run in my family?"

"You mean there's more?"

"Try eight. My mom's the shrimp at 5'11"."

"Ralph?"

Poor Artur, I really didn't mean to do this to him. "Yeah, I'm mostly Ralph, but you can call me Mary. I really didn't mean to shock you."

"Martha and Mary! It figures, do I hear the faint sound of a bible thumping somewhere in the distance?"

"My Uncle Richard - that's Martha's dad - has been known to bring his own rhythm section, but he hasn't a clue about this side of me. I just ignore the whole paranoid Christian gender trip and concentrate on being me."

"Uh, Mary, the two of you are kind of hard to ignore."

"Then don't ignore us and come on inside while we put away the groceries."

"Uh… sure…"

He picked up a bag like a gentleman and held it as I rummaged in my purse for the keys. I could practically hear him thinking 'Ralph is carrying a purse!'

We finally sat Artur down in a chair before he fell over. Martha and I exchanged knowing glances as Artur tried valiantly to keep his eyes off our breasts. I was born a male and, present looks to the contrary, still am a male. I certainly appreciate a woman's breasts, perhaps that's part of the reason I enjoy having imitation breasts and wearing a bra myself. I certainly understood Artur's interest and his confusion, but I couldn't think of anything I could say that would make it better.

"Artur," asked Martha, "would you like to join us for lunch? We got up late and we're a bit off the normal schedule."

"Uh, sure. Thanks."

"You like tuna?"

"No problem, man. Uh, girl? Lady? Crap!"

"Relax, Artur! It's not like we're going out on a date or something."

"Yeah, like I've ever gone on a date."

"Wait a minute!" Martha exclaimed. "You've never gone on a date?" I can't believe it."

"I - uh - get - uh - tongue-tied when - uh I…"

"So it seems. You poor boy."

Martha gave him a hug, not a simple maneuver since he was seated and she towered over him. I thought his eyes were going to explode as her cleavage hung just inches in front of his face. Poor boy, indeed!

"You give him much more sympathy and he's going to need a nurse, not just a date."

"What?" A pause. "Oh!"

"Yeah, oh! cousin. You need to do up a couple of buttons before you hug him again."

"No she doesn't."

"See! You can be decisive, Artur. You have any plans for tonight?"

"Uh, just studying."

"On a Saturday night! That's downright un-American, that is."

"I told you I've never been on a date."

"Then we're going to fix that. You're coming to the concert tonight as my date, right?"

"Uh, right?"

"Give the man a cigar for the right answer."

"I, uh, don't smoke."

"We'll see about that before the evening's over, and I ain't talkin' about tobacco."

"I hate to be the one to get in the way of true love, cuz, but Artur did come over so we could study recursive programming."

"I would have thought your vocabulary was pungent enough not to need to re-curse. I've heard you before and once should do the trick quite easily."

"To misquote Snidely Whiplash: 'Foils! Cursed again!' C'mon Artur - let's eat and then hit the books."

Mary

By this time, I had become practically oblivious to the diversity of the people around me. The ethnic diversity I found at the college made for some interesting conversations, and my fellow computer nerds were even more diverse than the general school population. My parents had raised me to respect all cultures and backgrounds, but this was the first time I had been able to meet people who were not like me (and I'm not talking about the crossdressing!) on a personal level. I had become very much at home among all the differences around me.

Even though I had become very comfortable as Mary in the weeks since starting college, I still was a bit ill at ease in a crowd. Crowds make me think of the horror stories that appear in the papers from time to time where someone trans or gay gets the snot beaten out of them or worse. Small groups or just another person or two seem to be much more easily controlled; a large crowd is subject to the mob mentality and you never know what could happen.

There's nothing to take your mind off the improbable but horrible things that could happen in a crowd like watching a mating dance. If you've ever seen one of those nature programs where the male critter puts on a display for the female critter, and the female critter responds with some choreography of her own then you know what I felt like watching Martha and Artur.

A naturalist would have a hard time working out the details of this particular dance, however. In this case the male was a good foot shorter than the female, and he was the drab one (jeans and a T-shirt) while the female was in full plumage. While Artur and I were exploring the mysteries of recursive routines Martha had spent some time getting ready for her impromptu date.

She had abandoned her usual jeans for a cute little blue chiffon skirt that kind of sparkled when she moved. Since the skirt stopped a good ways above her knees she was showing a considerable amount of leg above her strappy, three inch heeled sandals. Her brightly painted toenails shone out for the world to see. Of course, not too many people were looking at her legs because the plunging neckline of the silver blouse distracted every male eye from what was on display below. If that wasn't enough, a flashing blue jewel hung on a gold chain, swinging freely between her impressive breasts. Nope, Martha was definitely not a shy, retiring type.

OK, I was jealous, I admit it. Not of Artur, but of Martha. How could a woman who hit 6'7" in her heels be so damned graceful and feminine?

I think Artur could be best described as floating on cloud nine. Not to be mean or anything, but if his feet were actually a few inches off the ground the difference in heights wouldn't have been quite so noticeable.

The thought had crossed my mind that in such company nobody was going to pay much attention to me. Likewise, Artur was far too busy being Martha's date to dwell on how his buddy had turned into a girl. I was beginning to understand how Cinderella felt; the ball was spectacular but what would happen the next day when I turned back into a pumpkin?

I could practically see Artur working up the nerve to hold her hand as we milled around before the show started - I'd been there myself. The whole hand-holding bit was complicated by the difference in heights and I had the fleeting thought that if he worked up the nerve to kiss her he was going to need a stepladder. Hey - I'm an inch taller than my cousin and I know the problem from personal experience.

The other part of my fear of crowds was this was the first time Mary had attended a college function. I had intended to change back to Ralph before we went, but I really didn't want to confuse Artur any more than I had done so far. Mary had been out and about a fair bit, but not really on campus, where people who knew Ralph would be hanging out.

The hope that I would remain anonymous proved to be a fleeting phantom. Martha and Ralph were pretty visible on campus, we don't have a basketball team so we were pretty much the tallest people in the place. There certainly weren't any other 6'4" women in evidence to camouflage my presence. Unlike Martha I wasn't comfortable in heels quite yet so I was wearing flats. Not having Martha's legs or cleavage, I had contented myself with a full, ankle length skirt and blouse that revealed none of my artificially enhanced bosom.

Cynic that I am I started the timer function on my phone when we entered the hall. It took all of about forty-seven seconds for the elbow jabbing and the ill-concealed staring to begin; by the two minute mark the stares were open and I was sure that any attempt at concealment would have been futile.

I scanned the room, wondering who would be the first to approach me. It turned out to be Ruth, one of the small but growing group of female computer nerds. She's very cute, short, bouncy, big grin, dark curly hair and burnished brown skin from her Latina heritage. If she wasn't a computer nerd I would have wondered why she was at the concert solo. The stereotype of the lone geek really does have some basis in reality.

We had spent some time together and had been working our way up to buddy status. Like most of us who spend a lot of time with computers she didn't have much of a filter between her thoughts and her mouth, but with her it came off charming and downright cute. That might have been because she was downright cute. Don't think I haven't noticed.

"Ralph?"

The look on her face was priceless. Ostentatiously clicking off the timer on my phone I replied "Occasionally. I'm Mary tonight."

"I knew it had to be you. You look too much like girlzilla over there to be anyone else."

"I'll have you know my cousin is very seldom monstrous, even if she is rather tall."

"You'll have to introduce us. What's the bit with the timer?"

"I had a bet with myself as to how long it would take for someone to ask who I was. I can say with perfect certainty that it took four minutes and twenty-seven seconds."

"Damn girl, you are one crazy fucker!"

"I'll have you know that a cultured woman such as myself does not fuck, we guide our partners to a mutually satisfying erotic experiences." Miss Manners has nothing on me when it comes to snooty!

"Hmmm. Whatcha doing after the show? I could use a guide when exploring some unknown territory, but I need details, girl. Lots of details!"

"You're in luck, we computer types tend to be detail oriented. Want to join us after the show for pizza? We could go over some details while we eat."

Did I really say that? Was I actually flirting with Ruth? Of course I was - it's remarkable how easy it was to do when all day long I had been thinking of myself as a woman and not a clumsy, inexperienced teenage boy. Maybe Artur wasn't the only one who would fall into an accidental date.

"Sounds like a plan. So what's with the getup?"

"You are familiar with the letters L, G, B, T and Q?"

"It's been a long time since I watched Sesame Street, but I've studied the alphabet."

"Tonight I'm being brought to you by the letter 'T'. I can even use the word trans in a sentence if you like. I am a transgendered male who likes to crossdress."

Let it all hang out, as my grandparents would say.

"Let me repeat: You are one crazy fucker."

"Damn! I spent the afternoon talking about recursive functions with Artur, now I'm having a recursive conversation. I can't get away from them."

"I don't get it. You actually like wearing a skirt?"

I realized that Martha and I were the only women in the place wearing skirts, something else that made us stand out.

"And a bra and panties and makeup and the whole rigmarole."

"They didn't mention this stuff in my gender studies class."

"That's because we T-people use the word gender a bit differently than your run-of-the-mill feminist. By the way, I'm a feminist, just not run-of-the-mill. Most feminists mean something like 'the socially-imposed division of the sexes' while we T-people think more along the lines of 'how we feel inside about who we are.' Tonight I feel more like Mary than Ralph."

"I guess it takes all kinds…"

"It certainly does. You're being remarkable calm about this."

"You prefer I should scream and point while jumping up and down?"

"There's a part of me that wouldn't mind at all watching you jump up and down. Fortunately for you I left that part home tonight along with Ralph's clothes."

"Does that mean you're wearing your cousin's clothes?"

"These are all mine. We do trade skirts sometimes, but with her endowment I don't really fit into anything of hers with a bustline."

"That girl has as much boob as you have chutzpah."

"I can't have that much!"

"Says the guy standing here with his boobs sticking out in front of my nose."

Did I mention Ruth's head ends up below my shoulders? She really had little choice about talking to my breasts.

"Jealous Ruth? What would happen if I started talking about your boobs in public?"

"Depends on what you had to say about them."

"After having heard some of the asinine comments people make to Martha I wouldn't venture anything whatsoever. The first night here some idiot actually came over and wanted to know her cup size."

"Now that doesn't surprise me. When the frats start rushing I sometimes think I should print up cards with a phony set of measurements to satisfy the poor slobs who have to ask in order to get into a fraternity."

"It was a frat boy, but he turned out to be a decent guy after he stopped trying to be a macho jerk. I can't wait until someone asks me. I can just say 'with or without my falsies?' and watch them get flustered. I pity the poor slobs who ask Martha if she's in a really pissy mood."

I told her the story of Sammy Carlson and the results of his cow impersonation and she was a properly appreciative audience.

We couldn't talk much more as the show was getting ready to start, but I invited Ruth to sit with us and we all had a fine time listening to some great music. You know the band is really kicking if it makes you completely forget you're a guy wearing women's clothes out in public.

Mary

Do you realize how completely strange it is to go out on a date with a girl, however unexpected, when you're crossdressed? Not that I've had a great deal of experience with dating, but all of it was as Ralph. Don't feel sorry for me - as a certified geek I was perfectly happy to stay home and talk to my computer. It wasn't that I was scared of girls, (well, maybe a little…) after all I was doing my best to look and feel like a girl.

I was pretty sure that the girls in my school wouldn't be interested in a computer nerd or a guy in a dress. Not much incentive, is there? Add to that I really don't get what this dancing stuff is all about and dancing is just about 100% of what you do on a date unless you're in the dark in some movie theater and you'll see my problem.

OK, I can make excuses all day, but I really hadn't gone out with many girls. Since going to college I had been hanging out with a lot of females, mostly Martha's friends, but I was one of the girls. Dating was a popular topic for discussion, but no one in our circle was interested in dating me - even the ones who knew Mary had an alter ego.

Now the situation was reversed. We were back at the same pizza joint Martha and I had gone to on our first night, but Martha was the token teacher among three computer nerds.

I had noticed something when Mom got together with her social worker colleagues - inevitably the talk turned to their work interests. On those occasions, Dad and I and anyone else in the family quickly found something else to do - if you weren't a social worker then you just weren't interested in all those details of this case or that situation. I was determined not to let Martha's eyes glaze over while we talked shop.

That's not as easy as it sounds. Of course Artur was distracted because Martha had read his nervous hesitation correctly and took charge, draping her much longer arm over Artur's shoulders. Artur's eyes were a bit glassy, but it had nothing to do with being bored by the conversation.

Me? I had an urge to follow Martha's lead and cuddle up to Ruth - she certainly seemed receptive - but that might call a little too much attention to us. Cuddling lesbians might be more common these days, but the thought of one of those lesbians being outed as a crossdressing male could be real trouble. Artur wasn't the only one with a case of the nervous doubts!

That little problem was solved when I put down the menu and felt Ruth's hand clasp mine, safely out of sight under the table. Gender stereotypes, be they Trans or Feminist, were being firmly plowed under that evening.

We didn't have too much trouble finding things to talk about. Living in the dorms provided plenty of stories, from Ruth's snoring roommate to the guys body surfing down the long, straight hall in Artur's dorm, leaving slippery puddles for the unwary. As we were politely fighting over the final piece of pizza, Ruth began a diatribe on the bitches who would dump her laundry on the floor if she wasn't back fast enough to put it in the dryer properly. That set Artur off about the knucklehead who dyed something bright blue, resulting in his whites being a sickly blue-gray until he was able to bleach them. Martha and I held one of those silent, eyes only conversations and we invited them to come over to our place when they needed to do laundry. Pretty good excuse to spend time with someone you want to get to know better.

By mutual consent we split off into couples to return our dates to their dorms, a little privacy being appreciated by all. Martha was waiting back at the apartment.

"Well, did you?" she asked. "You weren't gone long enough to get her in bed, so did you at least kiss her, cousin?"

"Damn straight!"

"Are we going to have to start calling you 'Hot Lips' after tonight?"

"Damn straight!"

"You'll notice I didn't have to ask if you kissed him - I already knew that answer."

"Huh, messed lipstick is such a giveaway! Damn straight!"

"So, is he any good?"

"Damn straight! Ruth?"

"My toes are still curled. They won't be damn straight for a couple of hours."

"And was some other part of your body damn straight?"

"I'm wearing a gaff. Girls aren't the only ones who need to use protection."

"You think Artur can handle going out with girlzilla?"

"You've heard that one, have you?"

"Ever since I hit 5'8" in sixth grade."

"Higher education seems to have some cracks in it."

"When you're wearing this blouse you need to be careful about using the word crack."

"Too big an opening, eh?"

"The speculation seems to center more on how tight the opening is."

"It needs some in-depth research."

"Have you noticed that we both seem to have sex on our minds, cousin?"

"Ever since Ruth and I found a quiet spot to, ahem, exchange favors. I take it you and Artur feel the same?"

"It has definite possibilities. He's sweet."

"I never even considered the possibility that a girl would want to go out with me as Mary. I'm trying to get used to the idea."

"I bet Ruth is, too. When's she coming over?"

"Saturday afternoon."

"So's Artur. Just one big happy family. We going to cook something special to encourage them to stay for dinner?"

"Damn straight!"

Ralph

There's a mistake that most novice programmers make sooner or later called an endless loop. A program is just a bunch of decisions you have the machine make - if condition A happens go to routine B to handle it, if condition C happens go to routine D. Now imagine your program consists of several hundred decisions that go to several hundred routines and each routine can send you to one of several hundred other routines and so on and so on… It's not too hard to make a mistake that has routine W calling routine X which in turn calls routine Y which calls routine Z which calls routine W and the loop never ends.

That's an endless loop - you accomplish nothing but you do it really fast! My profs tell me that before modern computers and smarter operating systems, sometimes there was no way to stop this nonsense short of pulling the plug out of the wall.

The whole thing reminds me of how gossip works.

When I made the decision to go to that concert on campus as Mary I started a loop of gossip that seemed endless. Us geeks have a reputation of not being able to notice anything that doesn't occur on a monitor screen, but that's utter bullshit. They sure as hell noticed Ralph in a dress.

With tits.

Oh yes, the tits made a big impression.

I'll give you an excerpt from a typical conversation with a male student:
 

"Hey Ralph!"

"Yeah Charlie?"

"Did you really go to that show in a dress?"

"I really went to that show in a dress, Charlie."

"You gay or something?"

"Nope."

"What's with the tits? Did you really wear a bra?"

"I had to have something to hold my tits, Charlie."

"Damn! You're nuts?"

"Nope."
 

Not exactly a conversation on the highest of intellectual planes. Then there was the typical conversation with a female student, and yes there are quite a few women in the computer program these days.
 

"Hey Ralph!"

"Hi Sandy."

"What's this rumor I hear about you wearing a dress to the concert."

"It's true, I did."

"Really? What kind?"

"Actually it was an ankle length pleated velvet skirt with a chiffon overlay and a ruffled white blouse with a high neckline and gathered sleeves."

"Hot date, eh?"

"Nah, I just like dressing like that sometimes."

"You're weird."

"Got that right."

"Well, as long as I don't have to compete…"
 

Like I said, that was pretty typical, but there were the outliers that ran anywhere from scurrilous profanity to invitations to do things I had no interest in but certainly displayed a wealth of creativity.

It calmed down by the end of the week, but there are still a few people who go out of their way to avoid me these days. Not a great loss, but still it can hurt.

Ralph

When I went off to college, I figured that my studies and learning to be Mary would take up all of my time. You have to realize that being a computer geek and a wanna-be woman are two distinctly different outlooks on life.

The computer geek speaks a dozen obscure computer languages, understands hardware, networking, operating systems and all the customer's needs. He is goal oriented, single minded and focused. If you are subject to distractions it's damned hard to keep all the threads of a programming task in your mind simultaneously and weave them all together to make something that works.

For most crossdressers, the ideal woman is intuitive, fashionable, sexy, motherly, independent, loyal, supportive, a great cook, accepting and funny.

So OK, when you write it down it sounds like the load of crap that it is. The odd thing is, Ruth managed to be all of those things on both lists. Furthermore, she liked Mary just as much as Ralph.

Oh yeah, she's a damn fine kisser.

This left me with a dilemma. She was perfectly willing to come over and study together, after all a private apartment is a lot more conducive to concentration than a dorm room. The problem was, when she was around the Ralph side of my brain was very aware of her as a woman and was a bit grumpy at this Mary person who was getting in the way.

On the other hand, Mary was able to tune out this cave-man grunting deep in my brain and relate to her as a fellow student and not a possible bedmate.

Mostly.

Me - the confused personality somewhere in the middle - was having a hard time deciding who I wanted to be, but I knew I wanted to be with Ruth while I was thinking about it.

Then there was Artur. It was pretty clear that he had fallen for Martha as hard as I had fallen for Ruth; they both became fixtures around our place. Artur shuttled between the geek discussions and the educational palavers with surprising ease. He still gave me the odd look or two when I was Mary, but he seemed to be a male version of Ruth who could bridge both worlds.

It didn't take long before we were known as the four musketeers. I suppose that was inevitable, we spent a lot of time together. It didn't take long for some snide comments about the five musketeers, as it was a tossup as to whether Ralph or Mary was part of the group. Every so often some lout would have a little too much alcohol or a little too much religion and make a nasty comment, but I had remarkably little blowback by being honest about my crossdressing.

Most people seemed to take the liberal part of Anonymous State being a liberal arts college to heart. (And no, I'm not going to tell you which school I went to.) Granted, there were a few people who pointedly avoided me and even a few who sought me out to ask just what the heck I thought I was doing. Outside of the campus the town was big enough that I blended in as well as anyone my height can.

I've heard that the true test of a relationship is being able to cook together in the same kitchen - Ruth and I passed the test quite handily. Oddly, Martha was teaching Arthur to sew and he was starting to get pretty good at it. In only a few weeks we had become a very tight little group.

How tight? One evening when we had grown tired of hitting the books we decided to take the night off and go out. Naturally, Mary and Martha had to change into something suitable for a night on the town, but what was Ruth going to do? Her clothes were back in her dorm room and there is no way anything either of us owned that would fit her. Since Artur, who was more her size, wasn't a crossdresser he wasn't any help either.

"Martha? You want to get me that carrier I left with you?"

"Sure, just a minute."

"Carrier?" I asked."

"A girl never can tell when she needs to get dolled up, so I left a few things with Martha."

"I don't know if I would characterize that as sneaky or farsighted."

"Practical, my darling. I'm thinking of moving some more of my wardrobe over, I spend so much time here."

"My poor bulging closet! Two women and a man sharing one closet? Can't be done."

"Then kick Ralph out and have done with it."

"Ralph is the one registered at the college. If he goes I have to follow."

"There are ways to handle that."

"Do they involve surgery?"

"Let's not carry things too far, sweetie. I have an interest in your body."

"Funny, I've been interested in your body since we've met."

"Tell me something I don't know. Thanks, Martha - Mary and I have to change. She's interested in my body so there's no time like the present."

"Nooooo!" cried Artur. "It takes you long enough to get ready without you two getting naked together."

"Tell you what, Artur," commented Martha, "let's just get naked together and we won't have to go out at all."

"No way!" cried Ruth. "I went to all the trouble to bring this outfit over and I want to tease Mary for at least a few hours before she gets to remove it."

There's a program that it seems everybody is watching called Stranger Things. I haven't really seen it because I've been too busy, but it's called that because strange things do happen. Maybe I should have found time to watch it, I might be more prepared when things like Ruth wanting to get naked with me happen.

Well, that's not quite accurate. I certainly had figured out what was going on - Martha and Ruth had decided that Artur and I were taking too much time to kick the relationship up to the next level. I'd been thinking a lot about it for some time, but couldn't quite get the nerve to actually try to get Ruth into bed. Too forward and crass for Mary and too nerve-wracking for Ralph.

Too bad for me and Artur. I was practically dragged into the bedroom where Ruth simply took off her T-shirt and skinned out of her jeans before I could utter a word."

"Like what you see?" she asked.

"You're wearing the same bra that I am!"

"My spy in the house sent out some smoke signals this morning so I could wear the right one."

"Don't tell me you have more bras that match mine."

"OK, I won't, but you have wonderful taste in lingerie. Your turn, let me see."

I had dreamed of this moment, but do you realize how hard it is for a crossdresser to take off his/her clothes and reveal his/her falsies? Especially to a woman that turns him/her on?

I did it, though, and for a few moments we regretted that we were going out and not staying in. Eventually I helped her with the zipper on her little black dress, which looked just fine on her little brown body. Me? There's nothing little about either my dresses or my body, so an LBD was out of the question. With the cooler November weather I chose a royal blue velvet skirt that owed a lot to the Navajo culture and an embroidered blouse with poofy sleeves. Ruth laughingly repaid my aid with her zipper by tightening my waist cincher so I could have a little bit of curve under the skirt. We girls have to suffer for fashion; who needs to breathe when you look this good?

It took a while before we were both satisfied with our hair. Ruth played around until she managed to get mine in a flattering updo that still managed to soften my face. Sometimes she's jealous of my long hair but she still prefers the ease of her pixie cut. It sure works for her, and I think the whole pixie image makes her look spectacular.

A good writer will find a way to heighten the suspense when writing a story like this. I won't think too much about how good a writer I am, but you could pretty much use the same phrase to describe the time we spent at the party. It doesn't take much of an excuse to have a party when you're in school; the ostensible reason for this one was to mingle one more time before the Thanksgiving break, but any excuse would do.

One thing was different this time. Well, two if you counted our expectations of wild sex after the party. Ruth had been teaching me to dance. Even with her in heels and me in flats the difference in our heights made this an amusing exercise to watch, but I enjoyed any excuse to get my hands on her body. She led when dancing with Mary and gave me pointers on how to lead when she was dancing with Ralph. Don't bother to check You-tube for a spectacular video of our moves, but at least I wasn't stepping on her feet too much any more. I still don't get the whole dance thing, but it makes Ruth happy and that's a good enough reason for me.

That's how I found myself dancing with a complete stranger that evening. The DJ had programmed a series of slow numbers after an upbeat set that rivaled any workout to be found in the health center, so Ruth dragged me out on the floor to dance. I quickly learned that someone as attractive as Ruth is the focus of a quaint practice called cutting in. Since the cutter was male, that left me with his female partner. She looked vastly amused at the way she had been abandoned to my tender mercies and I found that Mary had learned how to handle the lead along with Ralph. It was awkward, but she was a good dancer and we managed.

As we shuffled around the dance floor my new partner got a mischievous grin and did a little cutting in herself, waltzing away with Ruth and leaving me to dance with her man. He wasn't a small guy, but I still had a good four inches on him. To my surprise his hands were just as soft as Ruth's but his body felt immense under my hands. A pixie he wasn't! Being firmly in Mary mode I danced for the first time with a man. He must have realized I was a novice, so he didn't try any of the fancy moves he and his partner pulled off, but he certainly knew how to lead. I relaxed and began to enjoy the experience.

Dancing in that full velvet skirt was a joy, it swirled and swayed around my legs as I waltzed. My breasts swayed in my bra and I was completely alive and free as Mary like never before. Dancing as a woman beat the snot out of dancing as a man - who would have guessed?

It even took my mind off what was going to happen after the party.

Ralph

So what did happen after the party? Let's put it this way: there were four virgins who were determined to lose that condition. I won't speak for Martha and Artur, but Ruth and I were clumsy and scared and eager and loving and ready to explore this new part of our relationship. Much like my first attempts at crossdressing, I had a lot expectations but absolutely no practical experience. We both knew the basics - I get hard, she gets wet, we insert tab A in Slot B and repeat until something happens.

Yeah, you try and align tab A with slot B when you are more than a foot taller than your partner. We should have studied the Kama Sutra beforehand to find a position that worked. By the time we figured out we needed her slot B atop my Tab A my tab had flabbed. That wasn't a problem for too long, but the repeat until something happens part didn't last much longer than a few seconds. Congratulations! You're both no longer virgins but still horny as hell.

We were young and determined, so we kept at it until I found the right spot and Ruth was no longer frustrated. Then she found the right spot and my tab was no longer a flab so we did it again. Like anything, sex improves with practice. Good thing we were both goal oriented computer types - we got a lot of practice that night.

To be continued...

Once again, thanks are due to Alys for her proofreading and suggestions. The story is much better for her input.