I Missed Myself

There were so many things I did not understand. “How was I able to get off?”

“Your body still has a residual amount of testosterone in it, just like a transsexual on hormone therapy. You’ve seen those porno videos featuring chicks with dicks getting off.”

The thought did not appeal to me. “Why did it take me so long to come?”

“Because you’ve been emasculated, silly!” She could see that this cut me to the quick, and she took my hand. “I’m sorry, Jonathan, but don’t you realize what this means? You haven’t lost your mojo! You had your balls cut off, and you were still able to have sex, great sex. Once you start taking testosterone shots, you’re going to be a stallion.”

“How about what you said?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘Yes, thank you God.’ What did you mean by that?”

“Guys really are dense sometimes,” she sighed. “I love you as a man, can’t you tell that? I may be a lot of things, but one thing I’m not is a lesbian.”

“Then why make me go through with this charade?” I asked, pointing at my dress with a manicured finger.

“I took a calculated risk. I knew that you would never want me once you found out I used to be a guy, unless you had a taste of what I went through. So I took a chance. Did my girlish deception succeed?”

This time I took her face in my hands, and when I kissed her, the old familiar feeling came back once more. Slowly, lovingly, we undressed each other, and when I took her, it was as a man, face to face, her beautiful breasts against my smooth chest, her long legs wrapped around my back. Like before, my erection seemed to last for an eternity, and when I finally came, it was a whisper of things to come.