“You said that I wouldn’t understand what you feel like to be alone. That I wouldn’t understand why you’d go to that place for anonymous liaisons. I lied to you when I came in,” I said, taking a deep breath to keep going. Michele’s eyebrows furrowed but she did not move, “My name is Rose but I am not a sex researcher. I am not a doctor. I go to that place too. I just saw you there and wanted to know if… if you knew something I didn’t. Because…”
I realized there was nothing more to say, it was time to act. Michele still said nothing, she looked dazed, like I’d flooded her with too much information. That day I’d dressed up as I thought a sex researcher might. My hair was up, I was wearing a white blouse under a gray sweater, a long black skirt, and wedge shoes. I kicked the shoes off and pulled the pins out of my hair first. As I shook out my hair, I unbuttoned my sweater and let it drop onto the floor.
Michele was no longer crying. She was looking at me as if I’d gone insane. Perhaps I had. But I also knew that I had a connection with her. I’d been right all along. We weren’t bound by her knowledge of what it would take to make me happy or her sexual acumen. We were bound as two lonely hearts who had come to same place to feel some small measure of compassion. So I didn’t stop.
I started to unbutton my blouse quickly. It sounds crazy, but now I wanted to be out of my clothes. When the blouse was undone I threw it on the ground and reached behind my back and quickly unhooked my black bra. I let my bra slide down my arms and dropped it as well. Finally, this seemed to wake up Michele. “What are you doing?” she said in a far-off and distant sort of way.
“I am done hiding. I am done hurting myself and others for the sake of hiding,” I said. Michele’s apartment was drafty and I immediately felt my nipples harden in the cool air. I felt her eyes go over my body. She stayed on the chair, not sure of how to take my last comment.
I found the zipper on the side of my skirt and pulled it down far enough for the fabric to loosen. My skirt pooled on the floor at my feet and now I stood, topless and in my little red panties with my guard as low as it had been in years. A brief moment of panic swept through me, but I kept my eyes on Michele, and on my younger self as well. It was time to accept who I was.
I slipped my fingers into the waistband of my panties and bent over slightly at the waist. I gently inched them down and over my ass. As I slipped them, I grabbed hold of the edge of the tape that held my cock up against my body. I winced as I pulled it off in one motion. I slid my panties down and dropped the tape on top of them on the floor. Then I stood facing Michele. I was completely nude now, I looked down at my limp cock hanging between my legs and then looked back at Michele.
“I understand exactly what you feel because I feel the same way every day. But I don’t want to feel that way anymore,” I said. Here I was exposed to a person for the first time in years. I felt a lump in my throat and tears were welling in my eye. It was so intense.
Michele was sitting on the chair with her head tilted slightly to the side. Her eyes were like saucers and her mouth was slightly agape. I could not tell what her expression showed. I thought perhaps confusion and curiosity, but in my heart I feared what it truly was: disgust and hatred. I felt extremely cold now and more alone that I’d been in a long time. I was out there. I had done what I thought was right, but I thought I’d just done something horrible to myself again.
“I know you,” Michele said, just barely above a whisper. I looked down at her and she was looking up at me. Her eyes looked so innocent and lovely.
“What do you mean?”
“Your… cock. I recognize it. From last week, last Wednesday,” she said, more shocked than anything. I hadn’t expected this.
“How?” was all I could ask.
“There is a little freckle or something on the bottom of the tip, on the right side. I recognize it,” she said. I looked at her lips and wondered what any of this meant.
“Look, I have broken so many trusts with you,” I said, feeling nervous now, “I just wanted to show you why I go to that place. I don’t know everything there is to know about you, I just wanted you to know that you aren’t the only person who feels that way.” Michele nodded slightly. At least she wasn’t throwing up or attacking me I guess. But then she looked up at me and gave me the same sultry smile she’d given me once through the hole in the pet shop bathroom.
“You know more than you think,” she said. And, without speaking further, she grabbed the bottom hem of her sweatshirt and quickly pulled it up over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra and as the shirt landed in a pile on the floor with mine I saw the top of her body exposed. Her breasts looked large out of her clothes, big white mounds of perky flesh. Her nipples were small and the same wonderful pink color of her lips. Now it was my turn to be dumbfounded. I hadn’t expect this, though I didn’t know what I was expecting.
Now Michele stood up quickly, her breasts bouncing freely as she did so. She grabbed onto the waistband of her yoga pants and quickly started to slink them down off of her body. She bent over as I had done, pulling them down her calves and then stepping out of them. Then she stood up. My eyes traveled down from her perky breast to the dramatic synch of her hips and widening of her hips. Between her legs, waxed completely bare, was a flaccid cock, around the same size as my own. My head swam. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Michele was… just like me.
We stood opposite one another for a few seconds, both of us too in shock to do anything more. I kept scanning my eyes over her body. I couldn’t believe how much better I thought her body looked like that than if she’d looked like a genetic girl. It was just perfect on her. I felt her eyes on my body as well.
“I have been thinking about you since that day last week,” she said carefully, blushing a bit. Another shock.
“Why?”
“The same reason you apparently followed me,” she said, “You felt it didn’t you?”