You like Mexican, you know more about computers than I do, and you are my kind of girl when you dress. Can you dance? That’s one of my questions. The other, is a bit personal, but since we’re sharing a Pepsi...” I raised my eyebrow.“Yes, somewhat. I like it more than I’m good at it. The dancing. Now, ask away. If it’s answerable, I will.”“Stockings or panty hose?”“You cad. Stockings. Panty hose only when needed. Hot pants and slacks included. Think you can get any more personal than that?”“Garter belts or thigh highs?”“That’s too personal. For now. Finish your sandwich. I need some fresh air. You are a dirty young man.” She reached for my hand as I set my napkin down and put it on her thigh. I could feel the tabs on the garter belt and the stocking welt on her thigh. Then she took my hand, kissed it, and put it back up to my napkin. “Way too personal. Second date material, at least. Maybe third. Something to think about.”“Lydia, will you go dancing with me Saturday night?”“I need to. That night, Cheryl discovered some disturbing facts about herself. She could once again be lonely, kind of. Jeffrey was inside; but since they were now one, there was nobody to talk to. She also found that she tended to return to a semi-female state if she wasn't thinking about it -- both physically and mentally. Cheryl's contributions to their new sexuality had somehow been stronger than Jeffrey's. She could become a man, enough to pass for one in most respects, but it required more concentration. Being a woman seemed somehow easier. Jeffrey was right. The choice to use Cheryl's old identity as their new combined identity meant that they were not in balance. She could forget, that Cheryl and Jeffrey were together -- both inside, and even though she had the memories of Jeffrey's boyhood, it would be all to easy to live the rest of her life as a woman. Those memories of being male would fade, in time, if she did so, as might any memory of Jeffrey himself. She'd be Cheryl again and life.
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