More than I bargained for

It was just a little reconnoiter to go out "en femme", have a drink and go back to the room. It would have been simple enough, there were a few events with a dress code in the hotel, so everyone would just assume she was with the other group. But the blonde gentleman, and he was very much that, had come over and offered a second martini. He didn't usually drink them, but said if she liked them, she'd be the perfect person to have one with. She suddenly felt a flash of heat in her face. Was it the alcohol trying her metabolism? Maybe a little. But it was something else: she was a bit smitten.

She was very careful to make sure he spoke first, so when she said her name was Fiona and that she worked in insurance sales in Raleigh, he'd know nothing about any of it. She stopped short of trying a Carolina accent and in about 25 minutes, the drinks were gone.

She'd honestly just enjoyed chatting and he'd been very pleasant. Still she could tell he was interested. She thought about what it would be like to give him a simple kiss on the cheek, or even on the lips. Still, it was just a thought, she didn't want to trick anyone. She'd just wanted someone to validate their feminine expression and he'd done that for her. It felt incredible to be treated as someone so delicate, so interesting, so impressive. This was a man who clearly understood manners and boundaries, which is why it felt like such a shame when they parted ways. She'd removed her glove before shaking his hand in the feminine way she'd practiced. "Thank you for the drink and company. You're too kind. Travel safe." Her voice was always a challenge, but this time, it seemed acceptable. He walked back into the bar, sports highlights seemed to be calling him. She walked off to the elevator, her heels clicking on the marble floor and her trench coat draped open in her shoulders. The coat gave her the flexibility to leave the hotel for awhile if things had gotten awkward, but they had not.

Once in the room, she very lazily removed her outfit, leaving her wig and prosthetics on and putting on the hotel bathrobe. She sat on the couch in the sitting room and had a few cool glasses of water. She'd then removed everything and in her male presentation, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, got into the bed.

Sleep did not come. Like so many other steps on her journey, progress just yielded more questions. She imagined the handsome stranger, who's name she'd already made herself forget, in the room with her. Stroking, smelling her hair. The thoughts progressed from there. Hours later, in her mind, he'd accepted her as she was, they'd married and adopted children. As she imagined picking these hypothetical kids up from school after a day of selling insurance, she couldn't think anymore. She drifted off to sleep, her unconscious brain picking up where she'd left off. She smiled gently.