I turned the key in my apartment door. As I heard the lock click, and the door swinging open, I suddenly felt a strong sense of abandonment. The sensation was so strong that I had to close my eyes and draw a deep, long breath. I was surprised, but instantly knew what it signified. Stepping through that door would be the final return to myself. To who I really was. The magic would be broken and the fairytale become a dream of times past.

Life on the yacht with my husband and friend had been a crammed and tight existence. Still, being in love and adoring each other’s company, it had been the best time of my life, not counting the wedding itself. Now everything was so silent. I stepped through the frame and felt the pressure of the closing door almost push me over. The slow, low-pitched rumble of my fridge and the faint sound of droplets falling on the ceiling window were like drums to my ears. Every time my feet touched the floor, all I could hear was the lacking click of heels.

I had anticipated this moment, but never truly understood how lonely I would feel. This must be how it feels to be dumped, I thought to myself. Only double the pain. I could never go back to being a girl, and would never again experience the same kind of romantic emotions as I’d experienced with my husband. No, my pal. Tony. I’ve got to stop thinking like that now.

I still had all my female clothes forcefully crammed into a bag beside the front door, ready to explode at any moment. Every other minute I would glance over at it and fight the urge to indulge myself in lace and satin. Knowing how much I had loved being a girl, I knew the only way to quit was to cut clean, but somehow I never got around to throwing the bag out. It’s presence was the only thing I had left besides the memories, and I told myself that I needed to cling on just for a little while. Make the transition gradually. Just till the sadness subsided. But the days continued to edge on in their painstakingly slow pace, every minute an agony, and every hour a dread. I passed the time watching television, taking long walks or reassuring myself of my sexual preferences by the computer. Nothing I did could null out the longing, but for each day passing, I seemed to find slightly more of the life I had left behind on the wedding day.

I had not heard a word from Tony since we departed the marina after our honeymoon. We both thought it would be for the best if we did not meet for some time, but I secretly dreamed he would come pounding on my door like a medieval knight, ordering me to be his wife again. It was not until three weeks had passed that he first contacted me. I was at a lecture at the university, but when I saw his name on my phone, accompanied by a picture of his loving smile framed by an azure blue Mediterranean, I hurried out of the room, leaving all my books in the auditorium.

He asked me how I was doing, and if everything was back to normal. I could not admit to him what I would not admit to myself, and found myself lying. I told him everything was fine. That summoned a short silence on the line, and I knew he was thinking about what to say next.

“I know we agreed not to do this anymore, and I know I have no right to ask you for anything, ever again. Still, there is one slight detail I’m having trouble working around. You remember Tina, my sister? She picked you up before the wedding.”

“Yes…” I remembered his gorgeous sister very well. She had been so nice and comforting when the nervousness and stress threatened to have me running out of the church.

“She’s coming to town this Friday. She really liked you, and would like to meet us both. I’ve tried to stall her for a long time, but I’m afraid I can’t stop her any more. She begins to wonder if I deliberately keep you two apart. Could you give her a call or something, explaining that we can’t meet?” That moment, every ounce of courage, self loathing and discipline vanished like crumbs before a bird.

“I have a better idea. Why don’t all three of us meet up just like she suggested?” The pause appeared again, but even longer this time.

“You would do that? I thought you were through with that stuff.”

“I am. But I can always make an exception for you, dear. Isn’t that what a wife should do for her husband?” I ended the sentence teasingly with my female voice. In reality, my heart and mind were rejoicing, thrilled by the opportunity to go back to being his woman. Unconsciously, I even straightened my back and shoved my chest forward. My body shifted its weight to one leg, making my butt stand out.

“If you say so. But I don’t want you to do this if you’re not one hundred percent comfortable about it. You don’t owe me the slightest.”

“Just tell me when, and what I should wear, and never mind who owes who.”

He thanked me before hanging up, telling me that he would pick me up on his way to the restaurant on Friday. I went back to my note book, but never caught another word of the lecture.

That day I went straight home and opened the large bag by my door. I spent two hours in the bathroom, shaving off every trace of hair on my body and treating my skin. Already I could sense a slight feeling of relaxation and comfort settle over me as my body got that soft, feminine look. It was not until this moment, when all tension left my body, that I realized that I had not been truly at ease since the day I came home. I reached inside the bag for the two breast moulds in their case. The familiar weight as they were fastened on my chest was wonderful. It was as if they had always belonged there, and I sighed happily.

With immense confidence and swaying hips, I strutted out of the bathroom, carefully pulling the curtains and locking my front door. Memories and fantasies came rushing back to my head, and I got aroused just thinking about what these breasts had been through. I picked up the white corset I had worn at the wedding, smelling the perfume and reliving that wonderful day. When I pulled on the panties, followed by stockings and garter, I could hardly hold back the thrill. Tony’s call was the one thing I had waited for. An excuse to give in to my urges. The password to go back through the door I had vowed never to enter again.

It took some time to put on the corset and boots. All the while, my member was full and erect, making me twitch every time it rubbed against the lace of the panties. I regretted leaving the wedding dress behind, but I had previously bought a black and white skirt that I never got the opportunity to wear, which matched the corset nicely. Its many layers made it fall wide around my hips, accentuating the illusion of female curves.

Tony called again the next morning. I woke in bed, wearing only a thigh length, silky thin babydoll. I had forgotten how wonderful it was to wake up like this. To feel the cold sensation of the shimmering fabric caressing my shaved and smooth body. The last time I had slept in something similar, Tony had been right next to me, wishing me a good morning and kissing me sensually on the neck. When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel the hard rod wedge itself in between my thighs.

“Good morning, pretty.” I’d nearly forgotten he was on the line. “Should I call back later?”

“Oh, sorry, Tony.” I was using my female voice now. “I’m awake. Just a little groggy, that’s all. What was it you wanted?”

“I’m just calling to tell you dinner’s at seven. And do you mind if I come a bit earlier, so we can plan the thing a bit?”

“Come over whenever you want. I’ll be at home from two.”

“Wonderful. I’m looking forward to it. Meet you at two then. Bye.”

That left me just enough time to go shopping for new clothes to wear to the dinner. I was amazed at how quickly I had adjusted back to being a girl, and how natural it felt. Yesterday, I had struggled to keep from falling back, and now my life seemed in perfect balance.

After showering and all the million little things I liked to do in the morning to prepare for the day, I was finally ready to go outside. A swarm of butterflies was ready to burst through my throat like a torrent of sheer happiness. The weather was still quite warm, so I chose a short, denim skirt and a yellow, sleeveless top. My legs were the parts I liked most about my body, and I loved to show them off in a short skirt without any stockings. I had chosen a quite plain and unglamorous attire, but somehow this just made me feel all the more feminine. Strolling down the road like this told me that I was ready to be a girl in full, not just when wearing lingerie in secrecy with curtains drawn. I was walking confidently amongst the crowd as if nothing was out of the ordinary, attracting interested looks from boys and jealous glances from the girls.

The day was spent going through all the different clothing stores available. It was wonderful to browse rack after rack for something I liked and try it on. As a boy, I always dreaded shopping, but now it was like walking into a candy shop each time I moved on, increasingly encumbered by shopping bags.

The door bell rang exactly the same time as the tall grandfather clock in my living room. Tony was wearing a nice shirt and black trousers, his hair casually brushed back against his scalp. My heart raced the instant I saw his face, and I wanted to throw my arms around his neck to give him a neverending kiss.

“Wow, you look stunning as always.” His face lit up just as mine. His compliments made me blush, even though I was quite confident about my looks.

“Thanks. I took the opportunity to go shopping a bit.” I could not help smiling as I showed him my short, black halterneck dress that reached to the middle of my thighs. The rear was cut down to the lower back, showing off my entire back and arms. The front was covered all the way to my throat, the tightness of it curved around my waist and breasts, giving me a distinctly feminine torso. On top of the dress, I had a translucent lace dress the same length, covering my entire upper body and arms with elegant patterns. I had decided not to wear stockings, but in stead a pair of long leather boots reaching just above my knees. The heels made me nearly as tall as him, giving me the opportunity to stare right back into his eyes.

“Come right in, handsome. I’m so looking forward to this evening.” If he caught the hopeful tone as I pronounced the second sentence, any sign of it was drowned by his wide smile.