Becoming She

By JM Ross

This is a love story between a man & a woman who then become a woman & a man. With her skills, Bobbie changes Alan into a woman and he willingly lets her do it. Yet, he still loves her and she loves him. But then, it goes further taking him into a world he would never have guessed, existed. 

In the end, this remains a love story between two caring people but seasoned with many delicious erotic twists.
I hope you enjoy the direction of this story.

Love   JM

• Language: English
• Publisher: JM Ross
• Release date: Jan 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524229139

JM Ross

I love it when my protagonist finds herself contending with an intimate partner or a force that will change her forever. What is she thinking as she looses control of her desires or her body or both? Did she want this to happen? Has it gone too far? Does she like it? How will it end? Will it end? The line between fantasy and reality is sometimes so very, very thin and I adore stepping into fantasy and staying there as long as I can. I hope you enjoy. Love JM

Book preview

Prologue:

A limousine sat waiting at the island airport.  Ten minutes later, a massive private jet landed.  A tall man in his twenties rose from the limo and greeted the lone passenger departing from the plane and leaned heavily on his cane.

Later as the two sat at a table having coffee, the passenger, an older man, said, Last I heard, you were a woman.  So what is this all about? He gestured to the form of the young man.

The twenty-five year old thought for a moment and then said, Eric, that was somewhat true.  There was a time when I was a woman.  But, it's a long story.  Do you want to hear it?

Actually, the younger man continued, I'm thinking it's necessary so that you fully understand what you're walking into, here.

The old man nodded and gestured for the younger man to continue.

~~~~

Chapter 1

Loneliness

I'd always a solitary person.  Fifty years ago, people would have referred to me as a bachelor, a book worm, maybe even a recluse or I don't know what.  But that's how I've always been.  I took after my mother, slender, small hands, small feet, almost effeminate.  My brother took after my father, large, awkward, loud.  We lost my brother in the first Iraq war.  Dad followed him a year later with a massive coronary.  I guess Dad's big body wasn't built for the long haul.

As a quiet creature of habit, I couldn't have dreamed how my life was about to change.  It all began with my one seemingly innocuous habit on Thursday nights.

Every week, my terribly sedate life would reach its' peak with my weekly regimen of stopping at a nearby pub for a drink.  No.  Let's say my regimen would reach it's low point.  Anyway, I'd sip my one drink slowly and watch the crowd celebrate the ending of the week.  Afterward, I'd go to my apartment for the night.  When I say 'for the night,' that was just about it.  I didn't have a nightlife.  It's best to say, none.  I've never had a really serious relationship with a woman.  I was just too quiet, too boring, I guess.  My associations always seemed to fade quietly away.  Not even a whimper.  The worst part was that I willingly permitted people to drift away.  I even knew that I was accepting this life, this life of nothing, of an invisible... an invisible what?  I don't know.

All this said, I was surprised when she sat at my table and began a conversation.  Maybe I should say, she spoke and I listened.  I guess, I was just too stunned that this magnificent creature would have noticed me, let alone want to talk to me.  Blond hair, blue eyes and a figure that could stop traffic.  Hell, if I stepped off the curb, cars would steer at me.  But I swear, this woman could step into the street anywhere in this damn world and traffic would stop, just stop.  I don't mean a courteous little slow down and a friendly wave,  I mean, come to a screeching halt... and from both directions.

As she leaned over the empty chair at my table, she said, My feet are killing me.  Can I just sit here for just a minute?

I nodded, but she wasn't paying any attention.  She was already down and slipping her shoes off.  It was obvious that she was comfortable with her beauty and that I was simply a useful place to perch for a minute.

Minutes later, she stood, placed her hand on my shoulder and thanked me and then she was gone into the crowd.

She left me clinging to the vision of those intensely blue eyes and that long blond hair that fell to the middle of her bare back framed by the low cut back of her dress.  This is not to mention the cleavage that she let me see as she bent over the table to sit.  I know she was watching me stare because when I realized what I was doing, I looked up to see her eyes following mine.

As our eyes met, she smiled a knowing smile that said, It's OK.  Thought you might like a look and by the way...  You're welcome.

I guessed she was in her late 20's or early 30's but, I wasn't really sure.  Was she man-hunting at the bar or just showing off her wares?  I pondered this all week, especially in the shower.

Why is it that most of the truly spectacular women aren't huge on top?  Well come on, I know some are, but I'm saying most are not.  I'm thinking she was between a respectably full B and a small C.  Yet, her breasts appeared to be large because of her petite frame.  But I think she would have looked stunning (not flashy) in anything she wore.

Weeks later, just as my memory of her had begun to morph into a fantasy, there she stood again, talking to some business types.  She was also dressed in a dark business suit.  Her hair was up in a bun.  But she'd combed and pinned a lock of hair across her forehead framing her face perfectly.  With her body covered in the business clothing, my attention focused on her face.  From those piercingly blue eyes to her high cheek bones to her petite nose and full lips.  She was simply perfect.  Just looking at her made me feel like soft butter in a hot frying pan.  If she'd asked me to loan her all my life savings in cash, I would have done it.  No questions asked.  And...  I was a CPA at the time.  Care of money was my life.

Maybe she was too perfect.  I'd heard people like that could actually be very lonely.  Many men would be too intimidated to date such a creature (me for one) and women would be too jealous to befriend someone like her.  I've heard that some people like her lead very lonely lives.  Well, my life wasn't much better.  She could have had anything of mine she wanted.  I guess I could say that eventually, she did.

I saw her glance in my direction a couple of times but then she continued with the men.  When all but one had left, she excused herself and came to my table.  The lone business suit starred indignantly in our direction.  He must have been hoping for more, but fat chance buddy.

Can I rest my feet again? she asked as she sat down.

I nodded, but again she wasn't paying any attention.  She was already removing her second shoe.

I love high heals but they don't like me.  You know what I mean? she said while holding eye contact with me.

Oh!  This is so much better, she said as she leaned back and closed her eyes.

I hope he doesn't come over here.  He's such an ass, she continued without looking in his direction.

He's coming, I said.

Quick!  What's your name?

Alan...  Ah... Al.

He leaned over the table in front of me, ignoring me, Say Bobbie, you wanna go for a bite to eat?

I could smell garlic and sweat and his voice was like a wrestler, dees and does...  A putz in a two thousand dollar business suit.

Oh, I'm sorry but I need to have a small business meeting with my associate here, she said and then hesitated, With ...  Ah...  Ah...  Tony, here.  I'm sorry, Mike.  Maybe next time?

She fluttered her eyelashes.  But it was obvious.  He was dead meat.

Ah...  Ya...  OK, he said as he leaned back and studied me for a few seconds trying to understand what she saw in me that was better than him.

My savior, again, she said while resting her hand on my arm, And my feet thank you, too.

She let me buy her a drink and we sat quietly while I desperately tried to think of something to say.  When we saw Mike go out the