Hmm... Not so much of a sex story as much as a love story with sexy bits and even those are hardly X rated, unless, of course, you find the whole transgender thing a turn on.
It's also very slow to build. If you're looking for a quick thrill look elsewhere.
Chapter One: The Change
Looking back it's as if it never happened. It's almost as if it were all a dream. Maybe it was a dream but, if so, I've never had a dream that felt so real. Mind you, nowadays, I'm not so certain about what's real and what's not.
But, if it was a dream, then it's a dream that's fading and, if I don't write it down now, then I just know it will get forgotten. So here goes, this is my story. Was this a dream? Was this real? When all is said and done can you tell the difference?
Back when it started I was called Tom and, seriously, I could not have been more normal. I'd graduated from college with a so-so degree in Business Studies and, finding the job market to be harsh and unforgiving, ended up doing a dead end desk job for a company that sells office furniture. If your chairs didn't arrive on time then I was the guy you shouted at. And, yes, I had to put up with a lot of shouting. It was hardly a career but at least it paid the rent.
And rent, in those days, was a two bedroom apartment that I shared with Andy.
Andy and I had met on our first day of college and simply clicked. OK, it had started off with one of those crazy arguments over the merits, or otherwise, of Coldplay or The Arctic Monkeys, which kinda dates things but we were young and passionate about our music and, while we couldn't agree on their various merits we could agree that, somehow, it was important for us.
It wasn't long before we were going to gigs together and, after that, it was our habit to meet up in the student bar for a swift pint most evenings.
By our second year in college we decided that we should flat share. In many ways it was perfect. OK, so he was a bit of a slob and, even in those days, I liked to keep things tidy, but we pretty much liked the same things, kept the same hours and we understood each other.
When college was over we both needed to move on but when Andy told me he'd found a place in town but needed some help to pay the rent the obvious solution was for me to move in with him.
Now, I know what you're thinking but, seriously, I'm not gay, not now, not then, not ever. We were mates, good mates, but that's where it ended. There was never even the slightest hint of anything further than that. What's more we both dated. Nothing serious, nothing long term, but it was not unusual for me to find some strange woman searching the kitchen for a clean coffee mug come Saturday morning. Me, I had my fair share of conquests but nothing like as many as Andy.
I guess I might have gone on like that forever if it weren't for the day it I bought the necklace.
Andy had picked up this super cheap holiday deal; seven nights in Albufeira for next to nothing and we were having a ball. Working on our tans during the day, partying all night, pulling the chicks and having fun. One night Andy had pulled and I'd struck out which meant that I got the sofa bed and had to spend the night listening to the noises from their sexual gymnastics coming through the wall. When I woke up the next morning I'd had enough of this so I set out on my own and gave him and the bird he'd pulled some time alone in the apartment. I was wandering through the town, very much at a loose end, when I found a little backstreet market. It wasn't much, mostly food stalls but there were enough selling the usual tourist tat to keep my interest. In particular I hoped I'd find something for that gap over the fireplace. I've always loved a street market so I spent quite a while browsing and there, in a quiet corner, was the one stall that really caught my eye.
Most of the stall was given over to that brightly painted pottery that you seem to find everywhere out there but, as well as that, they had necklaces; nothing much, just a leather thong which was threaded through a small pottery pendant. Although they were about as cheaply made as they come there was something about them, something that really spoke to me and I couldn't help but pick one up and examine it closely.
Of course, the stall attendant, a woman bent almost double with age, honed in on this and I was suddenly at the end of her full strength sales pitch.
"You like these? They are very good, very good price. Here, try this one."
She was so insistent she had me look at practically every necklace on the stall but none of them quite made it for me. Each was close but each had something missing, something I couldn't put my finger on.
"Still can't find the one you like? You buy for someone very special?" she gushed. "How about this one? Very pretty, very good price. To you only five euros."
Five euros for a friggin' necklace! She had to be joking. Even so I took it from her and, as I did so, our hands touched. Was there a spark that ran between us or was that my stupid fancy. Whichever, fast as a snake, she grabbed my wrist and held me tight. I gasped in surprise and tried to pull away but her grip was firm.
"What.... what are you doing?" I spluttered.
She didn't answer but just looked at me and our eyes locked. I had the strangest feeling as if she was looking right into the depths of me and, for the life of me, I couldn't look away if I tried.
"No, this is not the one for you," she said after a while. "But this is not a problem; you have come to the right place. I have just the necklace for you. One moment."
She let go of my wrist and searched beneath the counter for a large leather pouch. This she opened up and laid flat on the counter so as to show a number of necklaces but, this time, of a far higher quality and, in particular, these were not on leather thongs but, rather, on silver chains. She sorted through until she found the one she wanted.
"Yes, this is the one. This is the one for you. Look! Look! The blue, it matches your sweetheart's eyes. If you wear this you will be his forever. Look."
She handed it over and, yes, it was a pretty blue and quite a finely worked piece unlike the rather rustic versions that I had been looking over before. The more I looked at it the more it spoke to me. It really was quite startlingly beautiful.
"You like this one?"
"Yes, yes, it's very nice but I'll tell you one thing; it doesn't match my sweetheart's eyes because I haven't got one."
"Ah, but you have., a very dear sweetheart. You just don't know it yet. You have a strange road to follow and this will help you get there. This is the necklace for you. Take it, take it!"
I looked again. It really was rather fine and, without for one moment knowing why, I knew I had to have it.
"OK, I'll take it. How much do I owe you?"
"Fifty euros. It is very pretty, yes."
"Very pretty. Thank you," and, before I knew it, I had given her a fifty euro note. She wrapped up the necklace in tissue paper and handed it over. I took it from her and, with a smile and a wave, left the market.
It was only when I got back to the room that the enormity of what I had done sunk in. Fifty bloody euros! That's a night's heavy drinking for the two of us! Had I really spent over forty quid for some cheap little necklace from a market stall? Wow, did she see me coming! All that gripping my wrist and looking deep into my eyes; that must have been some sort of hypnotism because I had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. I felt such a complete and absolute fool; the epitome of the gullible tourist. I could only imagine the extent to which Andy would take the piss if he found out so, rather than admit what I had done, I wrapped the necklace up in the tissue paper it had been sold in and slipped it into the bottom of my bag.
And there it stayed, well, until we got home where, still feeling foolish, I got it out and looked at it. What a fool I had been. Pretty as it was, it was a woman's necklace and I would never wear it. As for giving it to my 'sweetheart', well, I simply didn't have one. All that woman's nonsense had been part of her sales blag. The blue would match my sweetheart's eyes. What complete and absolute bollocks!
