And whereas he would normally roll over and want to get away, I did what I had always longed for: I snuggled up against his warm body, and held him tight. He was in heaven.

"Oh my god" he whispered, still barely able to speak. "I had no idea."

"Of what?"

"That it was like this for a woman. I kept coming and coming! I kept building up, and getting better! I just cannot believe it can go on and on like that."

"Now you know why I had asked you all those times to do certain things. You rarely did, so it was rare that I would get to feel what you just went through. I'm glad you understand now."

He kissed me! And we held each other tight for what must have been fifteen minutes.

* * *

I had to go pee now, so I went into the bathroom. I had always hated it when Frank would leave the seat up when he was done, so I was determined not to do that to him today, since I was stuck being the man. Instead, I sat down and peed. Why in the world didn't men just do that? It was so simple! You wouldn't even need a movable toilet seat if they just sat down to pee (well, I guess unless you wanted to clean underneath it, like I did every week).

I just didn't understand men, even if I was stuck in the body of one now.

After I was done, and washed my hands (I suspected that he often failed to do so), I went to get dressed up again. Frank wanted to put on something plain, but I was going to have some fun with him now. I was going to make him wear something very sexy and feminine. After his experience with having the multiple orgasms, he was a lot more willing to explore his newfound femininity.

I made him wear a pushup bra and lacy panties.

"How come 'bra' is singular when there are 2 cups, but 'panties' are plural, when there is only one of them?" he said.

"How come you ask such dumb questions?" I replied. We both actually laughed. It had been a while since we had been able to joke with each other, without setting off some argument or hitting a sore spot.

Next, I had him put on dark pantyhose, then my sexiest little black dress. This one had a very low cut neckline. It showed off my breasts very well. I was impressed how my (former) body looked in it. I was a little upset to see myself from the rear though. I had always been sensitive about my weight in the thighs and my rear. But I guess it wasn't too bad. Like a lot of women, I was very self-critical.

After he put on my best heels, he looked stunning. Now all we needed to do was to go out somewhere, so he could get used to being in public as a beautiful woman.

I was wondering what I should have him do, when there was a knock on the door. Suddenly, I remembered. My friend Susan from work was getting married, and tonight we were having a party for her. Not really a bachealorette party, just us going out for a good dinner, making her to drink a lot at the bar afterwards, then dancing. Susan's fiancé Martin had invited Frank to come along out of courtesy, since I had been invited to go out with the girls.

"Don't do anything stupid!" I said, as I rushed him out the door, with a purse slung over his shoulder. He looked at me helplessly, as Jackie dragged him into the car. I had to laugh as he teetered in his heels. He would be in for one heck of a night with the women.

But what about me? I was going to a bachelor party. I had heard what guys did, and I had to admit that I was a little curious if the stories were true. But I was also very uncomfortable. I would have to act like a guy out in public. I didn't know if I could pull it off or not.

I put on the outfit I had on earlier. It seemed like it was dressy enough to go to a nice restaurant, but casual enough to be comfortable. A knock at the door told me that my ride was ready to pick me up. Here we go!

* * *

At first, I tried to keep quiet around the guys, and observe how they talked to each other. With women, the conversation was the focus of our being together. I noticed that with the guys, the activity at hand seemed to be the focus, and you didn't even have to talk! And when they did talk, it seemed to mostly be bragging about themselves. So I tried to fit in, and not act too differently then they did. I even drank a beer, which I *never* did when I was a woman. It just filled me up too much, and if I was going to waste calories and carbs on something, it had better taste like chocolate, or have more kick than a beer does!

We hung out and played pool for a while in the basement. Then we loaded into cars, and drove off for a steak dinner. I normally skipped steak, as well as onion rings, loaded baked potatoes, and all that. But it wasn't my body! I splurged, and ate all the stuff I enjoy, but deprive myself of. I actually had a good time!

But then came the worst part. We got into cars again, and drove around to the bad part of town. I followed the guys as we headed into a strip club. Ugh! I hated even the thought of those disgusting places. I had heard all of the stories. Nothing would make me go into one of those places, although I actually had dated a guy who wanted to take me to one, on a date! Needless to say, he never saw *me* again!

The best man gave the guy at the door a bunch of money, and they sat us near the stage. What sleezebags! The drinks were expensive, and watered down. The music was loud. And on the stage, there were all these women who had absolutely no shame.

Some looked like they were barely 18 years old. Most looked like they had plastic surgery, to enhance their bodies, particularly their boobs. A woman can tell by the way they hang, or how they bounce when the girl dances, that they're not real. Real boobs as large as that jiggle. Fake ones don't quite do it the same way.

So anyway, these girls would stick themselves in the faces of the guys, who would put dollar bills into their garter. They danced with the poles, and were just disgusting. My mother would have killed me if I ever did anything like that in public!

Then they would come around to the tables. Guys would give them $20, and they would do a 'private dance' for the guy. Or lap dance to be more accurate. Some of them did a little bump and grind on the guys laps.

I looked with jealousy at the model perfect faces and hair, not to mention legs and thighs that I hadn't had since I was just a 19 year old girl too. If only I could keep my butt in that shape! But they had way too much makeup on, and tried to act sexy or something, always licking their lips, holding their mouths open, or doing disgusting things.

I guessed that the men who were fat and balding felt some sort of thrill from having pretty girls pay them attention. But at $20 for a 3 minute dance, that was a pretty steep price! I caved in and let this one girl dance for me, so I didn't stand out as a freak when all the other guys were doing it. It was too loud to talk, so I just sipped my beer, and wished I could be a girl again, as young as these pretty things.

After a couple of hours (it had to be at least that long, it was excruciating for me!), we left and headed out to a bar.

"I have a surprise there for you" said Martin.

When we arrived, I wondered what this surprise would be. It turned out to be a blonde. One who knew me, and ran up to hug me. I had never seen her before in my life, but she sure was friendly with Frank! I tried not to show my anger. I didn't want to ruin the party for everyone else by making a scene.

"Lets take a walk" I told her.

"Don't let him take advantage of you Judy!" said Martin, as we left.

So her name was Judy.

"Its too smoky in there. I needed some air" I said.

We walked outside, and she took me by the hand. I had suspected him of having an affair. She was a pretty young thing, and I could see why he would have been attracted to her. Unlike the sleazy women at the strip club, she seemed nice. But how could he have dared to act on his attraction? I had seen many men who looked wonderful. But I had never even thought of going outside the bonds of marriage. But that hadn't stopped him.

"You seem quiet tonight" said Judy.

"I'm just doing a lot of thinking" I replied. "So, tell me about your day."

She gave me a funny look. I guess guys didn't talk like that.

"Well, I did some more decorating of the new apartment. When you move in with me, I'm sure you'll like it. Then I looked at some brochures at the travel agency. I still think Paris would be the best for the honeymoon, but Hawaii sounds wonderful too. I just can't decide."

I stopped. It took all my strength to keep myself in control. I was so mad at him!

"Judy, do you really think this is a good idea?" I said.

"Well sure! Your wife is going to leave you, and she's filing for divorce soon, right? So we can be together."

"But you're just a young girl. I'm old enough to be your mother" I said. She gave me a strange look. I realized the slip I had made.

"You have your whole life ahead of you! You can go to college, get your degree, and do anything you want! You don't have to be tied down to someone as old as I am. When you are in your 40s, I'll be in my 60s! You will want to be out doing things, and I'll be ready for the resthome."

She looked up to me with sad puppydog eyes.

"You really love me, don't you Frank" she said.

"Yes I do" I lied. "That's why I have to let you go."

She started to cry.

I comforted her, and we kept on walking for hours, just talking and talking. She was a very nice girl. It wasn't her fault that Frank had lied to her. We spoke like girlfriends would, and by the end of the walk, she seemed resigned to the fact that she wasn't going to marry Frank anymore. She even seemed somewhat relieved.

I wanted to do something for her, since she had put so much into trying to build a new life with the man she loved. I reached into my pocket, and pulled out my money clip. Frank must have planned on spending a lot at the strip club; I had $500 in cash on me.

"Here take this. You can get back on your feet, and get your life together. If you need anything, just call me, okay?"

"Okay" she said. I was worried that she would throw the money in my face or slap me, but she understood the spirit of the giving, and was actually touched by it.

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