Sarah had her own designs to work on. First step was leaning against the couch. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I could feel the thump of her hip as she leaned and started talking to someone. “I need that thing you made.” “Because I’m short, and you’re sexy.” “I can’t.” Then I see her pants go sailing by, followed closely by a dark purple thong. Are thongs still sexy? “Because I’m naked. Now.” “Listen, Bree, if you help me have my first comfortable standing sex, I will pay you back.” “It’ll be a surprise. You know you can trust me.”

I think I heard Bree, barely mollified, call “on ladder”.

Then from Sarah beside me, “Eeep!”

Regular Dave was getting close, and I had plans for that erection. I used Sarah’s yelp to feign concern. Well, it was actual concern, I was feigning how much more important I found it than coating my tonsils with Regular Daves spunk. I looked up from the dick I was sucking, at the same time I felt Sarah hold my tail.

She made eye contact as she kissed the tip which felt weird and made me feel weirder, “This little guy was all over my face while I was fingering your snatch.”

“Sorry,” I sat on my elbows and ran my tail out of her hand and then to the front of the couch, almost without having to think about how to do that. “I’m still trying to stay aware of it. I’ve been unaware of it for my whole life, so it’s kind of hard.”

Sarah and I tumbled around until we were sitting side by side on the couch. This was accompanied by a little idle petting. The brush of fingertips over naked skin. Things were beginning to pick up again, but Sarah seemed like she was passing the time while she waited for whatever Bree was bringing.

I decided to play dirty and ask her while I nibbled on her neck. She took awhile to think about it, and I got dirtier, running one finger from her belly button to the part in her lips. She gave a little hum, like she was too pleased with her self.

I retaliated by whispering in her ear, “If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop.” By the second word, my hand had made it between her and the couch. By the comma, I had a finger poised on her welcome mat.

Sarah shifted her pelvis to give her better access to me. And to try to get me inside her through osmosis. I kept the pad of my middle finger at the barbican, but made no move to breach her gates. I spent a little too much time congratulating myself on that metaphor, so when she whispered, “Fine,” and clutched my wrist, I was unprepared.

I wasn’t shocked by it. The reaction that shocked me was that my tail lashed out and wrapped around her wrist. Well, I was probably too aroused to be shocked by anything my body did. Let’s go with perplexed.

Sarah guided my wrist so that my finger went up one side of her clit hood, then so far down the other side it didn’t have a choice but to rearrange her button. Then she let go and put her hands behind her head.

“It’s a step stool,” she said, waiting for me to go to town.

I had her panting and breathing heavy when Bree came back, “I already used the prototype with a drifter, so I don’t mind letting you use it.”

Sarah sat up, then leaped to her feet so that I had to be careful to extract in a way that wouldn’t hurt her. Quick thinking Aisling. She picked up the thing in Bree’s hands and turned it around. A crowd gathered, except Rachel and Big Davey, who were kind of tangled up. They moved their tangle to watch, though.

It was a step stool. But it was low and wide. Wide enough for you to stand with your feet two shoulder widths apart if you’re small. It was not very high off the ground, and might have had a maximum of only 8 inches.

“There’s measuring lines on this one,” Bree shows Sarah. “The interval is an inch and a half. If you need smaller than that, fuck you.”

“Well that’s the point, isn’t it?” Wee David said from beside Sarah. She unbuckled his pants, but then left him to step out of them by himself.

I stood to move closer and saw the past month all coalesce around me as I did so. Or I would have, but I didn’t want to pay attention to that right then. I knelt in front of Big Davey and did a favor for Sarah. He was almost to half-chub, and I massaged him a bit before taking him in my mouth to get him the rest of the way.

Balanced on my toes, with a cock in my lips, I gestured Regular Dave over. He looked a little lost, and I didn’t want him to think I didn’t like him anymore. And hand cramps are painful, man.

As I went from one to the other, noticing differences in taste and texture (there was something different about Regular Dave’s uncut unit, but damn if I could figure out what), I had a conversation with myself.

Like a few previous events, I was certain it was real at the time, and would be certain it was all in my head in retrospect. And I would be wrong on both counts.

She (I) was sitting in my view, behind me on the couch, fully dressed. Aisling leaned forward with her chin on her fist and her elbow on a knee, and I was struck by how adorable she looked. Like the kind of adorable you want to ravish. “Yeah, everyone else thinks so too,” she told me, wrapping her tail around her finger the way I did. “You have a deal where it’s equal parts boop you on the nose and buy you ice cream; and smother you in dick and quim.”

“I’m busy, Aisling,” I told her, “If you came to tell me critical lessons I’m not going to internalize, couldn’t you have chosen a better time?” I told her this without taking Wee David’s tool out of my mouth. Or indeed, without moving my jaw, which would have been a critical error.

“It feels good though,” she ignored my admonishment, “getting head and giving it?”

I nodded to her, only I didn’t.

“Why don’t you just do that? What’s this need to get a cock into your pussy?”

“I’m not sure you needed to put it like that,” I told Aisling.

“I’m sorry. Why do you need to have a penis penetrate your vagina?”

I switched to Regular Dave, and licked him from base to tip, “I don’t know. I just want to feel like a real-” I cut myself off short.

Aisling laughed-at us, not with us, “You meant to say, ‘I want to feel like a real woman,’ saw where the road was headed, and swerved into a wall.”

“No I didn’t. I was going to say that I wanted to feel like a real adult, but then I got a dick hair stuck on my tongue.”

Aisling leaned forward and perused the available suspects. “I’d say that hair was wider than it was long, then.”

“Listen,” I told her, wondering what was taking time so long that Sarah didn’t already need my handiwork, “I have some friends to fluff, and to fluff for, and one of those friends is me. If you’re here to reveal a deep truth, do it on your knees helping us out.”

She got to her feet then, I noticed her toenails were painted dark violet, inside black six inch platforms. Then she was stripping off the tight pink shirt over her head. (Crossed arms style. I needed to learn to do that, it was so sexy.) I don’t really know how she got the tight flared jeans off without taking her heels off and was even more skeptical when I saw her underwear. “You wore garters and stocking under your jeans?”

She squatted, tail curling up in a question mark, “And crotchless panties. Our imagination is pretty complicated, but it has a singular focus.” She leaned back, both to show me and to rub herself a bit. Then she held out her hand for Regular Dave’s dick. He obliged her by stepping a bit to his right. She obliged me by brushing her hair over her left shoulder, so I could get a perfect view of myself pulling Regular Dave’s foreskin over his head with her fist. Then she (I) pushed it slowly down with her lips.

“Not so far it hurts,” I cautioned her with my mouth full of Wee David’s testicle. He liked a little ball sucking, and I was into it if he’d taken a shower.

“We know. We’ve done this before.” She told me, working Regular Dave deeper into her mouth.

“Why am I seeing you?” I asked her, now focusing on the shaft, “What am I supposed to learn about myself.”

“Why don’t you look and see?” She said.

I turned back and felt my stomach punch my esophagus. There was my boy-self, in garters, heels, and ill-fitting bra, his long hair brushed over to give me a perfect perspective on his makeup. This is your psychotic scenario, Aisling. You can maintain your composure.

Okay, but what gave me such a visceral reaction. It wasn’t homophobia. I had searched around for some gay porn after my first with Autumn, and I had found some stuff that worked for me. Worked enough to come back to, anyway.

It wasn’t seeing myself cross. I didn’t know why that wasn’t it, but it wasn’t. If I met a guy who needed to be in a bra and panties to get hard, that was fine with me. As long as he didn’t need a balloon cow I could be down to fuck. Not that there was anything wrong with balloon cows, I just wasn’t sure I could offer him anything the cow couldn’t.

No, I knew what it was. A stab of pain and sorrow and shame, just at seeing my birth body.

This will seem callous, if you’ve ever played a video game you loved with people that made you deeply unhappy, you’ll know what I’m talking about. I was very in to Terreria at one point. I would describe it now as “Minecraft without the point,” but then I would have described it as dissertation I-LIX.forumpost. My father roped in my uncle and his wife to play with me. Our games would start with my aunt and uncle drinking, and end with them screaming at each other from opposite sides of the couch. It went on like that for weeks until my aunt took a wine bottle to my uncle’s keyboard.

For a year afterward I would notice the icon on my desktop and feel shame, revulsion and helplessness, and shame. Shame that I had ever found the game fun, revulsion at the thought of playing it again, helplessness at being unable to uninstall the game (on the impossible scenario I wanted to play it again), and shame that I couldn’t take the step to get rid of it.

I reformatted the drive instead.

Back to the... thing that this was... I felt the same sense looking at my boy-body. It was a body I had had some fun being. But mostly I had felt dismal. Maybe that wasn’t the body’s fault, but this new body didn’t feel dismal hardly any. When it did, it had people around to help it, far more than the other one had. Maybe that was more on society than on the boy-body.

“I don’t know if I always was a girl,” I told him, “but I know for sure that I’m a girl now.”

She, and it was a she again, swung her arms behind her back, then forward in a motion to help her up. She held Regular Dave’s dick in her hands, “You know why we like him so much?”

I shook my head.

“Me neither. We’re worried it’s because he liked us first.”

“Well. It seems like that’s a problem only when it becomes a pattern.”

The personification of me nodded, looking at something off in the distance. Then she turned to where I was still gingerly maintaining Wee David. “Would you like to know something?”

“Sure.”

“You figure it out.” This was a statement of fact, not an admonition.

There was a clank as the set-up step stool was set behind me. Sarah stood with her legs splayed as far as they could go. With her palms on the couch cushion she looked at me through her hair, “Okay Aisling, thanks for keeping him warm, but I’m gonna need it now.”