"You know, Bob," Katie said to me after class, "when we, uh, did it the other day, we never said anything about love."

"Uh— I guess that's right, we didn't," I said.

"And it was my fault," Katie admitted. "I was flinging myself at you, and it was all about fun and excitement, not love."

"That's true," I said. "It was mighty exciting, though."

"Oh, yes!" Katie agreed. "But— well, I was thinking. Life isn't just about fun and excitement. It can't be. There's just not enough to them to be totally satisfying, and you're bound to get bored with them sooner or later."

"Hmm," I said, non-committally. "Well, what do you think life is about?"

"I've decided I think it's about love."

I was silent. I had been in love once, in high school. Then my girlfriend dumped me, in favor of a rich guy. I didn't want anything like that ever to happen again. If that meant no more love, then that was how it would have to be.

But could I tell Katie that? "Good-bye, Katie, I don't love you, and I never will?" Would it hurt my heart even more to say that than it had hurt to be dumped?

"Hmm," I said again. "Um, why do you think life is all about love?"

"Love keeps you from being imprisoned in yourself. It gives you something more, something greater than yourself to care about. And love is something you can rely on, which fun and excitement aren't. And love—well, love heals your heart, which can be sick unto death from lack of love."

God damn it! Don't tell me this! I thought. You'll make me think I'm imprisoned in myself! You'll make me think my heart is sick from lack of love! You'll make me think I'm FUCKED!!

It was true. If she told me that, that was exactly what I would think. She had already told me, and I did think it. I was imprisoned in myself. My heart was sick unto death from lack of love. I was fucked.

"Sick unto death from lack of love," I echoed. "Yeah, I admit that sounds pretty familiar."

"It does to me, too," said Katie. "But— well, maybe we can help each other. I mean, if I admit I need love, and you do too, then maybe we can help to heal each other's hearts."

I sighed. "I guess I've got to admit I do need love," I said. "And it sounds like you do too."

"Yes, I do," said Katie. "Would you like to get to know each other, which we didn't really do when we were frantically doing it?"

"Uh— sure," I said.

"Let's go for a walk together, and I'll tell you some things about myself," Katie said.

We walked out of the classroom building, toward Acacia Pond. "I was always girlish," Katie said. "A lot of parents probably wouldn't have approved, but mine did. They're very progressive in their thinking, and they were proud that their boy was turning out to be what they called a 'transgender girl'."

"That's amazing," I said. "I was never girlish, but if I had been, I'm pretty sure my parents would have been totally pissed—especially my dad."

"I believe it," Katie said. "Well, fortunately, my parents decided against having me take puberty blockers, because they found out the side effects could be pretty harmful—not to mention the main effect of preventing puberty, which I decided would have been absolutely horrible after I went through puberty and loved it!"

"I know what you mean," I said.

"But then," Katie said, "my parents wanted me to get so-called 'gender-affirming therapy'. Part of it would have been taking hormones to make my little breasts bigger, which would have been fine with me—but that wasn't all there was to it. When I found out what else was involved, I was totally shocked and horrified."

"What else was involved?" I echoed. "Uh— you mean, mutilating you below the waist?"

"Yes," Katie said. "I loved my big clitoris just the way it was—and they thought I was supposed to get it cut off!" Katie grimaced. "Just because other girls don't have three-inch clits that can ejaculate, supposedly I shouldn't either, because I was a so-called transgender girl! Well, let me tell you, I refused to put up with that idiocy!"

"I'm really glad you did!" I said, most sincerely.

"So I announced that I was a shemale, not a transgender girl," Katie went on. "My parents were pissed, especially my mom, because all she knew—or thought she knew—about shemales was that they were sluts who let men plunge their buttholes in porn videos. I told her I wasn't going to get my butt plunged or appear in porn, but she didn't believe me. I still don't get along too well with my parents. I guess I'm lucky they didn't cut me off without a cent and throw me out on the street."

"I'm sure glad they didn't," I said. "Then maybe you wouldn't have gone to the U—and I wouldn't have met you."

Katie smiled. "Are you starting to love me?" she asked.

My eyes opened wide. "Uh— yeah, I guess maybe so," I said.

"I'm glad," Katie said. "Now, what about you? What can you tell me about yourself?"

"Not a lot, I'm afraid," I said. "My parents aren't pissed at me, although— well, I'm pretty sure they would be if they found out I had a girlfriend who's a shemale."

"I'm not surprised," Katie said. "But I don't think they have to find out. I can pass pretty well for a real female. I mean, you couldn't tell I wasn't one until you, uh, found out how big my clitoris is, right?"

"No, I sure couldn't."

"And they won't find out how big my clitoris is, so they won't know I'm a shemale."

"I sure hope not."

"OK, so much for your parents. What about you? Like, have you ever been in love?"

I frowned. "Yeah. Once. But I wasn't rich, and the girl dumped me in favor of a rich guy."

"She didn't love you," Katie said. "Real love is, you know, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, and all that."

"Until death do us part?"

"Well, not all at once—at least for us. I guess someday you might want to marry a lady who could give you children—and of course I can't offer you that. But now that temporary marriages are legally recognized in the State of Pacificum, we might—uh, if we were in love—we might have one of those."

"Temporary marriages? I must have missed that. When did that come in?"

"Last year. The divorce lawyers fought hard against it, because it would predictably reduce the size of their divorce gold mine quite a lot—but they didn't win."

"So you can actually get married for just a fixed, limited period of time? Like, uh, one year?"

"Yes." Katie smiled. "For some people, it makes the prospect of marriage less fearsome."

"Uh, yeah, I can see how it would."

"So maybe that could be for us, if we were in love," Katie said. "Would you like to see if we might fall in love?"

"Uh, well—" I hesitated. I was still afraid, but I knew Katie was right when she suggested that my heart was sick from lack of love. I had used masturbation, and (on one memorable occasion) sex with Katie, to narcoticize my heart, but I knew it hadn't cured the sickness, and I hoped Katie could help me really cure it.

"Yes," I said. "Yes, I would."

"Let's start from the beginning," Katie said. "No sex for a while. It's the traditional means of increasing love and desire for the wedding night."

And so it was that Katie and I spent the next few weeks together in sweet, innocent activities: going for walks and bike rides together, holding hands, sharing thoughts and feelings, reading poetry, studying together, giving each other kisses on the cheek. And it was working! Astoundingly, my heart was recovering from its long sickness unto death, opening its eyes that had been closed in deathlike sleep for so long—even becoming able to be deeply in love with Katie.

One cool but beautiful spring day, Katie and I rode our e-bikes several miles to Beaconsfield, a large, pleasant, comparatively normal middle-class area near the city limits. We sat on a bench in Beaconsfield Park, near some moms watching their little children playing. A trolley-bus glided past us on busy Beaconsfield Road.

"Katie, you're the greatest," I said. "You were totally right about my heart. It was really sick, but it's been recovering fast—recovering enough for me to love you."

"Oh, Bob, I'm so glad!" Katie exclaimed. "And guess what—I love you too!"

"Wow!" I said. "Uh— do you love me enough to marry me? I mean, at least for a year?"

"Yes," Katie assured me. "More than enough!"

"Do you think we could get married soon?"

"Probably in about a week, if we go to the Big White Chapel in the Road. They've got a bit of a waiting list, but they're pretty efficient about moving couples through."

"Well, then—let's go!"

When the big day arrived, we went to the University Heights branch of the Big White Chapel in the Road, the largest chain of wedding chapels in the State of Pacificum. Katie didn't wear a fancy wedding gown, but she did wear a white dress. "I'm wearing white because I'm officially a virgin," she said with a smile. "I've never been married."

I couldn't help noticing that we were missing some things that might have been found at another wedding. There was no church, only a commercial wedding chapel. There was no best man, no maid or matron of honor, no bridesmaids or groomsmen; Katie and I were both too lonely for that. Only Katie's parents and mine were in attendance. I was surprised when Katie told me she had invited her parents, but she said she hoped it might help them to be reconciled to her and her way of life.

"Hi, Mom; hi, Dad," Katie said when her parents arrived. "Thank you so much for coming."

"We're very glad you invited us," said Katie's mom. Everything seemed OK so far. Little did I know!

My parents had already arrived. "Mom and Dad, these are Bob's parents, Arthur and Rosalie Brainerdie," Katie said. "Mr. and Mrs. Brainerdie, I'd like you to meet my parents, Thor and Bonita Thorvaldsen." Pleasantries were exchanged. Everything still seemed OK. Then lightning struck.

"I hope you are proud to know," Katie's mom said to my parents, "that your son is marrying a shemale!"

Katie gasped and flushed deeply. I could see outrage flooding her face, but she said nothing.

"What?!" my dad shouted. "Bullshit! That's a lie! My son would never marry a shemale!" Turning to Katie, he said, "Tell her the truth. You're not a shemale, are you?"

Katie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes, I am," she then said with dignity.

"FUCK!!!" my dad yelled.

"Arthur, please!" my mom reprimanded him. "You must never say such a bad word!"

"Bullshit!" my dad repeated, disregarding her admonition. "Fuck! God damn it! Bob, have you turned into a total fool and idiot? A shemale! Do you know what that means? Haven't you ever seen shemale porn?"

"Arthur!" my mom cried, shocked. "Have you seen shemale porn?"

"Katie's not like that," I protested, helping my dad avoid answering my mom's question.

"So you say!" my dad retorted. "You just wait until someone shows you a porn video starring your shemale wife getting her butt fucked by a black stud! Well, I can't stop you from marrying a shemale, but I sure as hell don't have to attend your wedding! Come on, let's go!" Grabbing my mom's hand, he yanked her toward the chapel door and they fled.

For a few moments there was dead silence. Then Katie said, "Mom, that wasn't nice. You didn't have to tell Bob's parents I'm a shemale."

"Oh, yes, I did," Katie's mom snapped. "It's the truth, isn't it? It's what you've chosen for yourself! You could have accepted your destiny as a good, respectable transgender girl—a real girl, a girl in every way—but no! You chose degradation! You chose pornography! You chose prostitution!"

"I did not!" Katie protested. Predictably, her mom didn't listen.

"You heard Bob's father," Katie's mom said. "He was outraged—and rightly so! Everyone knows that shemales are nothing but depraved, filthy sluts—and no one will believe you if you deny it! A transgender girl who obstinately insists on retaining her male penis and testicles is an unnatural, loathsome abomination—and your father and I will have no part of it!"

Katie's mom paused, as if to allow time for Katie to speak—but I could see that Katie was far too angry to speak.

"As you might easily have expected," Katie's mom then said, "your father and I will not be staying for your wedding. Our only purpose in coming here was to warn Bob's parents that their son was about to marry a shemale. We have succeeded, and now we will leave." They left.

Katie sighed. "I'm sorry, Bob," she said. "I was afraid something like that might happen, but I kept trying to hope it wouldn't."

"I guess it can't be helped," I said. "Well, we still have each other."

"I'm so glad! At least you know I'm not into pornography and prostitution!"

"Are you ready for your wedding?" the receptionist asked, just as if no gigantic blow-ups had just taken place before her eyes.

"Yes," Katie and I both said at once.

"All right, would you like traditional, contemporary, or ultra-extreme?"

"Traditional?" I said, looking to Katie.

"Traditional," Katie confirmed.

"Temporary or permanent?"

"Temporary, one year," I said.

"Name change for one, both, or neither?"

"Neither," said Katie.

"Default pre-nup, custom, or none? For temporary marriages, many couples choose none."

"None," I said.

"Please sign these forms for your marriage licence," said the receptionist. She produced some forms, and we signed them.

"All right, now, rings for one, both, or neither?"

"Uh— both," I said. "But we'll need two of the least expensive rings you've got."

"We have a nice selection of very inexpensive rings for temporary marriages. Just select your rings, bring them back here, and you can pay for everything at once. Will that be credit, debit, or cash?"

"Uh, debit," I said. Katie and I selected our rings and I paid.

"All right, now go down to the display there and select your music; then enter the chapel when the processional begins to play."

Katie selected the music and the processional, Bach's Prelude in C, began to play. We entered the chapel through double doors.

At the end of the aisle beyond the doors, in an otherwise empty room, stood a woman in a blue robe. She waited for the processional to get done; then she began to speak at once.

"Dearly beloved," she said, although she didn't know us, "we are gathered here today, on this solemn occasion, to join two persons in marriage." She looked at a paper to verify the two persons' names.

"Katie," she said, "do you take Bob to be your lawful wedded spouse, to love, honor, and cherish, for one full year?"

"I do!" Katie said.

"Bob, do you take Katie to be your lawful wedded spouse, to love, honor, and cherish, for one full year?"

"I do!" I said.

"I now pronounce you lawfully wedded spouses. You may kiss your spouse." We kissed, but only briefly, saving the longer and deeper kisses for the time when we would unite.

"Go in peace, and may your marriage be filled with happiness," said the woman in the blue robe. At once the processional music (the famous Hornpipe from Handel's Water Music) began to play, and we walked out of the chapel to begin our married life together.

We arrived at Katie's apartment—soon to be my apartment too, when I moved out of the dorm at the end of the semester. Katie went into the bathroom for a minute or two. Meanwhile, I stripped to my underwear. When Katie emerged, she was wearing a skimpy nightie that showed off her breasts to best advantage.

"Oh, Bob, I love you so much!" Katie said as she approached me. "Please kiss me!"

"Katie, I love you!" I responded. We kissed. This was no mere tender, timid kiss, like those of the month gone by. As soon as our lips met, Katie's tongue plunged deep into my mouth, and mine into hers. I pulled her nightie up in behind and caressed her big, womanly, bare butt. I could feel her stout, hard three-inch clitoris pressing against me through the nightie.

"Please strip me!" Katie begged. I stripped off her nightie, while she pulled down my underpants. Then we embraced in the nude. I caressed her breasts, and then I tenderly stroked her big clitoris, slippery with pre-ejaculation fluid.

"Oh, Bob, I can hardly wait!" Katie said. "Let's go to bed!"

With our arms around each other's waists, we walked over to the bed. Katie's apartment was a studio with no separate bedroom. We sat on the bed and kissed again, most lovingly.

"Please come into me from behind and caress my breasts," Katie said. She got on her hands and knees on the bed, and I mounted her. Reaching between her legs, she pulled my erect penis forward between her thighs; then she clasped my penis tightly between her thighs, while I straddled her legs with mine. I leaned forward and reached beneath her to stroke her breasts, and she began to moan with pleasure.

"Oh, Bob, I love you so much!" Katie moaned as I plunged between her thighs and gripped her breasts. "Oh, yes! You're so good to me! I'm all yours!"

"Katie, I love you with all my heart," I responded. "You're an incredible blessing to me!"

Soon I was getting so excited I couldn't hold off much longer. "Katie, are you ready?" I asked her.

"Yes, Bob, I'm ready!" Katie said. "Please stroke my clitoris!"

I reached down to clasp her clitoris. Her big bulb was swollen to the maximum; her short shaft, too, was thrilling to my touch. Plunging her rapidly between her thighs, I soon brought her to climax and felt her semen flooding my hand from her engorged clitoris.

"Oh, Bob, my love! I'm all yours! Thank you so much for loving me!" Katie cried out as orgasm overcame her.

"Katie, my beauty, my beloved!" I responded, as my semen shot forth between Katie's loving thighs.

It had all been worth it, I thought: the weeks of no sex or masturbation, the blow-ups with our parents, and everything. Katie and I were in love, we were married for the year to come, and this was what our lives now were all about. If all went well, I thought, we might even get married for another year—and then another and another.