I looked at myself in the mirror.

‘Not bad,’ I thought, ‘Could be worse.’

I smiled and the reflection smiled back.

You've Got Mail

By Susan Brown

I looked at myself in the mirror.

‘Not bad,’ I thought, ‘Could be worse.’

I smiled and the reflection smiled back. I could see a (fairly) young woman. I was 32 and with the slap on my face, hiding the nooks and crannies, I could be mistaken for ooh shall we say 29?

My long blond wig helped to shape my face and though I say so myself, with my false breasts and nice legs, I made a comely looking girl/woman!

I had chosen an Empire cut Monsoon summer dress, cream in colour with a green and red flower design. It had an elasticated panel with drawstring under the chest and this sort of emphasised my erm, breast region.

I had no tights on as it was too hot and my shoes were open toed sandals. Looking down, I could see my pink painted toe nails, which of course matched my finger nails; colour co-ordinated - that’s me!

I glanced at the clock.

‘I’m going to be late, I’m always late!’

I peeped out of several windows — the lane was clear. I was pleased that I lived in the country on a fairly quiet lane. I gave my wig a final brush, then picking up my bag; I went out of the house, shutting the door firmly behind me and went to my car. It’s a VW Beetle and her name is Harriet.

I got into the car, being careful how I got in. No creases for me!

Soon, I was going down my lane and out onto the main road. Following the early evening traffic, I wondered who would be there tonight.

I was going to a meeting of my transgendered group. We hold our meetings in a social hall just outside a village. It was quiet, discreet and un-overlooked, just the way we like it.

We have about 40 members, and on a good night, 30 would turn up. I liked to go there, though I’m a bit shy. Everyone was very nice the first time I went, about nine months ago. I hoped that Sharon would be there as she is my particular friend. We hit it off straight away when I first joined the group.

It was nice being able to go somewhere; a place where I could dress without worrying. I had never married; never finding the right person, I suppose. I did have a couple of girl friends, way back in the dark and distant past, but as soon as they knew about my dressing habits, that was it, bye, bye!

Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in the car park. There were several cars there already, including, I’m glad to say, Sharon and also Nikki’s: she’s a relatively new girl, having only been a few times, but she seems quite nice and a bit of a laugh.

I locked my car and walked across the gravel car park and into the relatively cool hall.

I paid my subs to Mabel, a nice old lady who liked to fuss about a bit and mother us younger girls. Hark at me saying younger! Well she is 75 and she has lovely white hair and a smile that lights up the room.

‘Hi Anna!’

I turned around and there was Sharon, swaying over on those ridiculously high heals she insists on. We had a hug and an air kiss and then went over to a few of the other girls standing by the counter waiting for tea, coffer or whatever. After a series of ‘hi’s’ we all started chatting about what we had been up to since we last met.

The meeting continued in the usual vein; talking about clothes, makeup, the latest gossip, why X, Y or Z wasn’t there.

I was sitting with Sharon and Nikki, comparing nail polish — as you do, when, glancing over to Mabel, I saw that she was talking to someone who had just come in.

She was a pretty thing, about five foot eight; thin with a white silk top and a blue, knee length skirt. She had blond hair, cut in a pageboy cut to just below her chin. She was a bit awkward looking, as if she wasn’t used to going out dressed. There was something about her...I excused myself and overcoming my shyness with new people, I walked over to Mabel and the new girl.

What was it? Something was nagging at me; did I know her? I cast my mind back and couldn’t place where I could have seen her before. What I did know was that the sight of her made me a bit breathless.

‘Must be my asthma coming on,’ I thought.

As I arrived, I smiled and said, ‘Hello, I’m Anna...’

She looked at me, smiled and then after a frown, went pale and said, ‘sorry...I...I...I’ve got to go.’

She turned and virtually fled the room.

‘What did I say?’

Mabel looked at me, concern on her face, ‘I don’t know; she was okay until you came up. She emailed me yesterday to say that she had heard of our meetings and would like to come along; that’s all I really know. I have her email address, I’ll contact her tonight; perhaps it was all a bit too much for her, she was as shy as you were when you first came.’

As I went back to the other girls, I wondered about the new girl. What had I done and why did she go pale when she saw me and above all, had I seen her before? I had a strange ache in my tummy and I didn’t know why. Was I coming down with something?

The evening carried on to it’s normal conclusion and I had a nice time however, my mind kept wondering back to the new girl. Where had I seen her before? It was really bugging me. I shrugged, thinking I was being silly. Then I remembered her lovely eyes and figure, the nice smile that she had before she shot off... that is! What had I done and why did she go pale when she saw me and above all, had I seen her before?

‘Get a grip, Anna.’ I thought, pulling myself together.
Life continued as normal. I got up, got dressed, made breakfast and went to work. Being a self employed plumber meant that I could work what hour I liked and when I liked; I could take holidays at a time that suited me and could finish work at a reasonable hour. If you believe that rubbish you still believe in the tooth fairy. Anyone who has worked for themselves will tell you that working for yourself is no picnic. You work long hours, rarely take a holiday and being sick is for wimps.

I was normally was out and on the road by 8.00am. This particular day, the charming customer that had made an appointment to get his washing machine plumbed in, got his brother to do it. I hoped that the bloody thing leaked because if it did, I’d charge double to fix it.

Hence, I was still in my nightie at eight in the morning. I was lounging about watching morning TV; there was an interesting thing on about what skirts were going to be ‘in’ this year. Why are all those girls like stick insects with no flesh on them? Call me old fashioned, but if some of the things on show were in, I would rather be out!

The door bell went, ‘ding dong.’

I said ‘Shit.’ Tore off my nightie, put my ‘manly’ dressing gown on, all towelling and done up tight, and went to the door.

I opened the door, hoping that I had taken off all the makeup from the previous night and saw the postman standing there.

‘Hello.’ He said not really looking at me.

‘Hi.’ I said, originally.

‘One to be signed for.’

I saw the package, grey and knew what it was. I had won a black leather skirt that I had been lusting after from eBay and it had arrived!

I signed for it and he handed it to me. He had a slight frown on his face and I wondered why. Thinking about it though, if I had to get up at four in the morning, I would probably frown too!

‘Want a cuppa?’ I said, feeling sorry for him.

‘N...no thanks, I’m running late.’

With that, he went down the end of the path and was off on his bike to the next delivery, probably, down the road to my neighbour.

I shut the door, made myself another coffee, grabbed the scissors and eagerly opened the package.

‘YES!’ I said.

I took out the skirt and immediately tore off the dressing gown. No time for panties; I pulled up the skirt and zipped it up the back; it fitted! I don’t normally go for leather and wondered fleetingly if I was getting a fetish. I could do with one as I was a bit boring and conservative dressing wise. Perhaps I should get some tight leather cobble skirts and leather boots that went up to my navel...nope, too hot, sticky and kinky for me; I would have to do with the skirt; maybe it would go with my red satin blouse? That was bordering on kinky and would give them a laugh if I went to the next meeting wearing them. I might wear my black wig, blood red lipstick and nails, hmmm.

I sipped my coffee, still in my leather skirt, no knickers and top and wondered if I could be a postman. I remembered the look on the postman’s face as he handed me the package and declined my kind offer of coffee. If I was him, I would take all the perks on offer. I had seen him several times when I had to sign for stuff — normally boring plumbing equipment or parts. He seemed okay, if a bit quiet. Perhaps he was a bit shy, who knows. He had a strange look in his eyes sometimes, as if he wanted to say something.

I picked up my coffee and stopped mid sip.

‘Bugger me with a pitchfork,’ I said to the empty room.

It was her, the postman was her! I knew that I recognised the face. Even under the makeup, which was nicely done, by the way, I could tell that I recognised her from somewhere; now I knew!

What to do about it?

I couldn’t very well say,’ missed you at the meeting,’ next time he delivered, could I? Naaa, that would be stoopid.

I looked at the clock on the wall and sighed; time to make a move. I would have to think about this later.

I went upstairs, reluctantly took off the skirt and put it in the wardrobe. I had a shower, washed my hair and got ready for another thrilling day messing about with pipes and peoples waste.

The day went the same as usual except she was nagging at me in the back of my mind and I had no idea what I could do about it.

Fourteen hours after getting up, I was back at home in my favourite nightie watching Love Actually for the umpteenth time. I had a packet of crisps and a glass of Chateau Crap at my elbow. I just got to the bit where Hugh Grant was sucking the tonsils out of Martine McCutcheon, when something occurred to me. I waited for the end of the film, as I did like the bitter sweet bit at the end, and then went to my computer and fired it up.

I emailed Mabel...

**********************************************************************************

Hi Mabel,

Have you got the email address of that new girl that didn’t stay. I thought that I might contact her and try to help her, somehow.

Hugs

Anna XXXX

*********************************************************************************

She must have been on line as she immediately replied...

*********************************************************************************

Hi Anna,

Yes its [email protected] , I hope you can persuade her to come back, she seems a bit lonely.

Let me know how you get on.

Love
Mabel
XXXX

*********************************************************************************

I thought for a bit. How can I put it without making a mess of things?

*********************************************************************************

Hi Phillipa,

We met briefly at the meeting last night. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay. I have spoken to Mabel and we are both worried that something or someone may have put you off staying. I hope it wasn’t me being a bit forward.
It’s funny, I’m normally a bit shy with strangers, but for some reason, when I saw you with Mabel, I had to come over. Anyway, if you want to stay in touch, just email me. Perhaps I can persuade you to come to the next meeting?

Anyway, have to go now. Its hot chocolate time and cuddle up with my ipod!

Hugs and kisses
Anna
XXXX

*********************************************************************************

I sent the email and shut down the computer. Soon, I was in bed and for some reason I was snogging Phillipa in a somewhat vivid dream.

Next day I was at work early, sorting out Mr Fisher’s leaky toilet. Luckily it was a water pipe and not an effluent problem and I managed to sort him out quickly. My next job was after lunch, so I took a rare opportunity to eat my sarni (sandwich) at home.

After eating my sandwich and washing it down with a cup of tea, I went to my computer and fired the baby up. Once on, I could see that I had several emails. After filtering out the ones that either wanted to give me money, enlarge my penis or sell me Viagra, I noticed one other.
I opened it and saw that it was from Phillipa!

*********************************************************************************

Hi Anna,

Thanks for the email. I felt a bit foolish for running off like that and I kicked myself all the way home that I was not brave enough to stay.

That was the first time that I had ever gone out in public dressed as a girl. When I saw you all laughing and enjoying yourselves, I panicked and ran.

Once again, thanks for your email; being as I am, I feel as if I am something weird — you know a man dressed as a woman, how wacky is that! Still, I have been doing it since I was a kid, so I won’t change now.

Anyway, perhaps I’ll try to get to the next meeting.

Hugs
Phillpa.

*********************************************************************************

After reading the email, I wondered if I should reply. I was a bit short of time now, so I decided to put off doing anything until the evening.
When I got home, I was fairly knackered. I went to the bathroom, stripped, had a shower and after drying myself, I was too tired to go the whole nine yards, so I put on my Mini Mouse T shirt, panties and denim skirt and then made myself an omelette and salad.

After the meal, I just sat down on my leather sofa and promptly fell asleep. I woke up suddenly to the sound of Big Ben; the News At Ten was on and I had been asleep for a couple of hours!

I yawned, got up and turned the TV off. Then put the kettle on for my nightly hot chocolate. Whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, I went upstairs and changed into my pink satin nightie. I then made my drink and then went back upstairs to my bedroom.

Putting the drink down on the table, I switched on my computer; I thought that I had better check for emails before I went to bed.

Sitting there waiting for the Bill Gates clone to wake up, I yawned. I was very tired tonight...too many late nights catching me up.

I finally opened Outlook Express to find several emails. After filtering out the crap, I saw one from Mabel.

*********************************************************************************

Hi Anna,

Just a quickie, did you contact Phillpa? If so, let me know how you got on.

Hugs and kisses
Mabel
XXXX

*********************************************************************************

I replied immediately, telling Mabel that Phillipa had contacted me and I was just about to email her.

Should I mention to Phillipa that I knew her? No, it wasn’t fair; she had a right to her privacy, after all.

I started tapping at the keys.

*********************************************************************************

Hi Phillipa,

Thanks for your email.

I don’t blame you for running off. It can be frightening going somewhere like that where you don’t know anybody.

I remembered how frightened I was when I first went out. I wanted the ground to swallow me up. I thought that everyone would laugh at me and call me a bloke in a dress. I was silly thinking that, as no one paid a blind bit of notice. You looked very pretty in that dress and you have no need to worry as I’m sure that you will soon get used to being out and I’m sure if you come to the next meeting, everyone will love to see you — me especially.

If you need any help or support, please contact me as I am always willing to help.

I have to go now, but please keep in touch.

Hugs and kisses,
Anna
XXXX

*********************************************************************************

I went to bed that night wondering if Phillipa would go to the next meeting. Once I was asleep, I dreamt about Phillipa. We met in a coffee shop and were dressed rather smartly in business suits, ladies, of course. I was enchanted by her eyes and her smile and the fact that she was so beautiful. We ended up kissing each other before going our separate ways.

When I woke up the next morning, I remembered the dream and wondered why I had had it. I shrugged, thinking that it was just one of those things. Phillipa had been on my mind...hence the dream. Mind you, I smiled slightly at the thought of the kiss between me and her...somehow it didn’t feel strange or wrong. Was I being turned on by the thought of Phillipa? I had known since I was young, that I was bi sexual; though I had done nothing about it and dated only girls. It was bit difficult going up to men and saying show us what you’ve got! Mind you, thinking about it, I hadn’t done that with women either, so that shoots that argument down! That led me thinking, if I had done anything with Phillipa, would it be lesbian or something? Confusing isn’t it!

Another day of toil etc saw me back home again, eventually. I was undressed and ready for bed as soon as I had eaten my tea. I needed to get up early the next morning as I had a ball cock problem with one of my regulars. Before going to bed, I checked for emails and I was a bit sad that there was nothing from Phillipa.
For the next several days, things went on as normal. One morning, I was eating my breakfast; I was later than usual, as I had another cancellation. The door bell went and I did my usual, throw off nightie and fling on dressing gown thing, before answering the door. It was the postman again.
(Phillipa!)

‘Morning,’ I said cheerfully, looking carefully at her face. Yes it was her, those lovely eyes...

She...I mean he mumbled something, wouldn’t look into my eyes and just thrusted his book in front of me for signing. I signed on the dotted line and was given a package, a special elbow joint that I was waiting for, judging by the size and weight.

‘Thanks,’ I said, ‘want a cuppa? I’ve just made one, it’s fresh’

He looked at me and I could see the agony of indecision on his face. Should I say something? I was just about to blurt it out when...

‘Erm...no thanks, I’m running late.’

With that, he was off down the lane quicker than a ferret going up your trousers, if you had trousers, that is.

I sighed, why I didn’t say that I knew who she was. We could have had a cuppa and then, who knows?

I didn’t hear or see from Phillpa again. For a few mornings, I stayed in for the post to arrive, but someone else had taken over and I was told that my old postman had been moved to another route.

Phillipa was still in my head and I was in an agony of indecision as to what to do. Should I email her or something? In the end, my inherent shyness prevailed and I did nothing. Perhaps she wasn’t interested in me. Anyway, life went on and I carried on as usual. One thing that did cheer me up was that washing machine job that had cancelled...I did have to go there after all as it sprung an expensive leak!

It was on the following Friday that the next meeting of the transgender group was being held. It was a dance, we held them about four times a year and it gave us the opportunity of dressing up and slapping on industrial strength makeup.

I arrived at the hall in a little chiffon black dress, fully lined and made of smooth & silky material with a chic scoop neck. It fell to just below the knee and it was gorgeous with black stockings and black, three inch heels. I had spent an age over my makeup and though I say so myself, I thought that I looked cute, bordering on the quite nice.

The music was going when I arrived and I was soon swept up and dancing away like a mad young thing. I kept looking around for Phillpa, but she wasn’t there. My heart sank a bit at that, as I had made a special effort on my clothes and makeup.

After quite a few dances with my friends, I was taking a breather and drinking some cola through a straw when I saw her at the other end of the room. She was standing there, looking pretty and vulnerable in a lovely floaty red dress. Her hair was different, it was lovely and golden and fell around her shoulders No one was around her and she was holding a glass as if it was some sort of lifebelt; she looked about ready to run off again... As soon as I saw her I knew what I wanted.

Our eyes locked across the crowded room. She looked pleased to see me. I could see that she was nervous, but, at seeing me, she had a gentle smile on her face that lit the place up.

I walked over. It must have been fate, the song started and she looked at me; she smiled shyly but with something else in her eyes. I smiled back, knowing as if by instinct that this was my moment.

I took the glass from her slightly shaking hand and put it on a nearby table.

I have never seen that dress you're wearing
Or the highlights in your head that catch your eyes I have been blind
The lady in red is dancing with me cheek to cheek
There's nobody here, it's just you and me, It's where I wanna be
But I hardly know this beauty by my side
I'll never for get, the way you look tonight


Holding her hand, we went on the dance floor. Nothing was said as we listened to the words of Chris De Burgh. I held her close to me and she rested her head on my shoulder, sighing quietly. She smelt gorgeous, her perfume mingled with mine as we danced to that romantic song.

I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight
I've never seen you shine so bright you were amazing
I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side
And when you turned to me and smiled, It took my breath away
I have never had such a feeling
Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight

I pulled away slightly and looked at her pretty face.

‘Are you glad that you came?’

‘Yes, I was scared, but I had to come...to see you.’

I looked into her beautiful eyes and then at her luscious pink lips. I leant forward and her face came closer. Our lips touched and I felt a shiver go through me as we kissed gently. Our mouths parted and then our tongues touched and caressed.

The song ended but we didn’t, oblivious to all around us we carried on with our intimate sweetness.

I had found someone and she had found me. It might not work out, but at that time and at that moment, we could both see that this was special. My postman or should I say postlady had overcome her shyness and had delivered herself to me and I was sure that it was going to be a first class romance.

The End

My thanks go to Chris De Burgh for Lady In Red.

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