T he next day at work Dean called me and said he had great news and wanted to meet for lunch. Anxious to learn the news, I quickly agreed, and I drove us to a nearby restaurant, known for good, fast and inexpensive food. I was accustomed to opening doors for Delia, but with Dean I had to play along like there was nothing going on between us. Dean was on his "best behavior" as well. We were seated and placed our order.

"Okay," I began, "What's up?

"I read the personnel procedure about gender expression and then contacted Human Resources," Dean reported, "They confirmed that they supported gender transition and would assist me."

"Assist you?" I asked, "In what way?"

"They can place me in a different department, sort of like a new-hire," Dean replied, "Or I can stay in my same department if I wish."

"They will change my personnel records," Dean continued, "I'll be known as Delia and can petition the court for a legal name change. The company records will show me as female, but later I'll get my gender marker legally changed. The company health care plan will cover hormones and any medical procedures I may need. "

"But I thought you were already taking hormones?" I replied.

"Those are low dose herbals," Dean explained, "They help a little, but the full dose will do more."

"Sounds great," I said, "But don't you need a doctor's prescription for that?"

"Yes," Dean agreed, "And I'll need a recommendation from a therapist, so I'll need to find one."

"I'll see what I can find," I said, "It's the least I can do for the girl I love."

Dean paused and I saw his eyes water. "Dean, you can't be crying here," I said.

"You never said you loved me before," Dean said, "I've wanted to tell you, but was afraid you wouldn't feel the same."

"Well, now I've said it," I replied, "And I mean it – honestly and completely."

Dean reached over and squeezed my hand. "Don't be too public about this," I said.

Our food arrived and we began to eat. "So, what happens next?" I asked.

I have an appointment with Human Resources at 4pm today. I'll talk with my boss before and see if he is okay with me staying in the department – I hope he'll be fine with it."

We finished lunch and returned to work. Dean said he would fill me in on everything tonight.

I went to the Psychology Today website and used their "Psychologist Finder" to look for therapists nearby. I specified gender issues and seven names turned up. It seemed that a female therapist would be best, so I eliminated the two male therapists. Reading their background I found that three specialized in gender dysphoria and transitions. I took down their contact information and called each one, taking notes from the discussion.

After work I went to Delia's a little earlier than normal and found she was still getting ready. I apologized for the early arrival and got a beer and sat down on the couch and watched TV.

"We'll eat here tonight," Delia said, "That way I don't have to get fully dressed." She left and returned in half an hour, wearing one of her sheer robes with matching black bra and panties beneath.

"I can't wait to tell you everything!" she said, sitting next to me. I took the remote and shut off the TV.

"My boss was completely surprised, but very supportive," she said, "I can keep my current job and he'll make sure all my co-workers know how to work with me – basically, just act as if I were a woman all along – and no harassment."

"Except from me!" I replied.

"You can harass me any day!" Delia said with a smile.

"So how did it go with Human Resources?" I asked.

"They took care of all the paperwork, and we agreed that I would begin as Delia on Monday," she said, "I'm so excited!!!"

I took Delia in my arms and pulled her to me. "I checked on therapists and have some information for you," I said.

I shared the information with her. She chose the one who had worked with over a hundred transgendered people, with over a dozen current transgender patients. Delia said she would call for an appointment. I told her she could count on my going with her if she wanted.

"This calls for a celebration!" I said, "Since you prefer to stay in tonight, I'll cook dinner."

I always enjoyed cooking and doing so for Delia was special. She insisted on helping, which was great. From time to time I would take a brief break to hold and kiss her, and occasionally touching her wonderful private parts. I made chicken picatta, which we enjoyed with a nice white zinfandel wine.

"That was a wonderful dinner," Delia said as we cuddled together on the couch, "I am so glad I can be a girl full-time, especially for you – but I have this little worry that's keeps surfacing."

"What's that, dear?" I asked.

"I know you are devoted to me," she said, "But I'm afraid some day you will want to be with a real girl."

"Now listen carefully," I said sternly, "There is nothing at all UNREAL about you – you ARE a REAL GIRL, but I know what you mean. You think that one day I'll start looking for some pussy."

"I can't blame you for wondering what the real thing is like, and wanting to find out," Delia explained.

"Delia dear," I said, "I've dated genetic girls before and I know what it's like – and you are MUCH better."

"Bill, please tell me again why you think I am better," Delia said, needing some reassurance.

"You are more feminine than most women – no periods or PMS – no unwanted pregnancies – and you are wonderfully anal-erotic!" I explained.

"You seem to like my clitty as well," Delia said.

"That was a little disconcerting for me at first," I agreed, "But I've warmed up to it and kind of like it now."

"So you like a girl with a dick?" Delia said, with a sly smile.

"I like this girl!" I declared.

"So you really like my ass better than a girl's pussy?" Delia asked.

"Far better," I confirmed.

Delia repositioned herself, kneeling on the facing away from me. She lifted her sheer robe and lowered her panties. I needed no more encouragement, so I knelt on the couch next to her, spread her cheeks and kissed her passionately. She moaned with delight and pressed back against my face, further encouraging me.

Then she got up and faced me, lowering the front of her panties, exposing her now-erect clitty and said, "Better finish what you started!"

I pulled her to me and fondled her soft buns as I took her petite clitty into my mouth. I knew I had a really turned on lady here! Soon she gave me her girl juice and I led her to the bedroom, where we snuggled while spooning.

We enjoyed snuggling, but it was too early to go to sleep, so after I time Delia rolled over and we spent some time gazing into each other's eyes. I'd never felt this way about any woman, and I knew Delia was the one I wanted for the rest of my life. Now that she was transitioning to woman full-time, was this the time to ask?

"Should I get a boob job?" Delia asked, catching me by surprise.

"Definitely not!" I said without hesitation.

"Why not?" she asked, "I thought all guys liked big breasts."

"Not me," I affirmed, "Yours are a perfect B cup. When you take a full dose of hormones they will probably grow to a C, and that's plenty big enough."

"You mean you don't think Dolly Parton has nice breasts?" she asked.

"She has a pretty face," I said, "But those monster hooters look like some kind of deformity."

"I see," replied Delia with surprise, "So you wouldn't let me get a boob-job?"

"Delia dear," I said, pulling her close to me, "It's your body and if you want it so bad I sure won't prevent you. But you asked my opinion and I told you."

"It's just that I would feel so much more confident in public, and soon at work, if I were more developed," Delia explained.

"I will buy you breast forms to make you look more full," I offered, "But when it's just us, I like the real, all-natural you!"

"To be completely candid," she said, "I want bigger breasts, but I'm kind of scared of the surgery – it doesn't work out well for some women, so I'll take you up on your breast form offer."

"Great!" I said, "I don't want anyone taking a knife to your pretty titties!" Delia kissed me and I asked, "Any other big decisions tonight?"

"Well, there's just one thing I want to be sure you understand," Delia offered, "While I won't have periods, I won't ever be able to bear children for you."

"Is that something that troubles you?" I asked.

"I think I might like a family," she replied, "But most of all I feel like I can't be a complete wife for you – if you ever ask me."

"Delia dear," I assured her, "Lots of couples can't have children, and we can adopt when we are ready for it."

"I'd be fine with that," Delia confirmed, "I just wasn't sure how you felt – I'm so glad we are together on this."

"So are there any other major issues we need to discuss?" I asked.

"No, that's all I have," replied Delia.

"Well I have one," I said, "Will you marry me?"

"Oh yes Bill! Yes! Yes! Yes!", was her ecstatic reply.

We stayed up a few more hours talking about wedding plans before finally turning in for the night.

Excited though we were, we decided not to rush things, and got married fourteen months later. Delia's hair was grown out enough so she didn't need her wig anymore, and her breasts developed enough so she no longer wore breast forms.

Family was important to both of us and we wanted both our families in our lives. My family wasn't a problem, since they would think Delia was a genetic woman, but Delia's family was a challenge. She had long lived in fear of her sister outing her to her parents, but they really needed to know, so one day Delia arranged for us to visit her parents together.

Initially they were shocked, but after a time they both agreed that Dean (it took some time before they could call her Delia) was different, and probably gay.

Delia's father was a health care professional and knew about gender dysphoria but had never made the connection with Dean. We had a nice visit and they asked us to visit them regularly so they could get to know us better. They had thought they knew Dean, but now realized how little they knew.

By the time of our wedding, Delia's parents had completely accepted her and always called her by the right name. Her father proudly walked her down the aisle as I nervously watched, hoping I wouldn't mess up the vow. When she arrived at the alter and turned to me, I lifted her vail and said, "You ARE the most beautiful woman in the world!"

The rest is history.

  The End

Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests.
    –Bill Beaumonte (oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)