It's Like Looking Into A Mirror Pt. 01

Authors note: The following story is a slow burn. If you are looking for a quick yank you might want to move on. Otherwise, please enjoy. All comments are welcome.

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After I was finished with my business, I tucked my secret back into place, pulled up my panties and tights, and smoothed down my dress.

Upon exiting the stall as stepped towards the sinks I glanced and smiled at the woman who just exited the stall right next to me.

She was quite beautiful. Auburn and blonde, straight, shoulder length hair pulled into a ponytail. Just like me. I was wearing a purple sweater dress with purple tights. She was wearing a dark blue sweater dress with blue tights. While I had on black, knee high boots, with a 3" heel, she had on black, ankle boots with a 3" heel also. She was carrying a Coach purse. Similar, but different design to my Coach bag. I guessed her to be maybe 25-28yo as compared to my 30 times around the sun.

The similarities between the two of us was such a crazy coincidence I just had to say something. "Its like looking into a mirror."

She and I looked at each other, then at the mirror, then back at each other.

"But not." she said, finishing off my sentence with a grin, and both of us broke out in a gale of laughter.

"Hi!" as I stuck out my hand in a greeting, "My name is Lorraine."

She gently shook my hand with a gleaming white smile, "I am Lauren."

"Are you the long lost sister that I never knew that I had?"

"OMG! I was wondering the same thing!" and we broke out into another bout of laughter.

"We have got to exchange numbers!" she excitedly said.

"Yes! I am here with a couple of girlfriends for some drinks. Would you like to join us?"

"Sorry, love to, but I am here on a first date with a guy I just met."

"Ooooh! Good luck girl, I hope it goes well."

We gave each other a quick sisterly hug and went our separate ways.

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Four days later, Lauren and I met for dinner at a cozy little casual restaurant.

I was wearing sandals, skin tight jeans, a pink t-shirt and a white leather jacket to protect against the early January chill. Lauren had on sneakers, baggy black pants, a heavy, thick, gray sweater, and big dark sunglasses. A stark difference from the sexy look from just a few days ago.

It was an early 4pm dinner because I had to get up early for an morning flight for a quick business trip. We were seated right away. The waiter took our drink orders and gave us a couple of menus.

I thought that it was a bit odd that Lauren kept the sunglasses on since the restaurant lighting was a bit dim. Every now and then she would slightly raise the glasses a bit and lowered back down as she decided on the choices.

Eventually my curiosity got the best of me and I had to ask.

"Those are some cute sunglasses. Are they prescription?"

"No." She softly replied.

The waiter brought our drinks, white wine for both of us. When he took Lauren's order she didn't look his way at all.

This was so unlike the bubbly, vibrant woman I had briefly met just a few days prior.

"I talked to my mother," I started, "She swears that I am her only daughter."

"I was adopted, so I never knew my biological parents," she said quietly not being able to hold my gaze.

"I am so sorry," I apologized, "I didn't know."

"Thats ok. No way you could've known," still with the shaky, timid voice.

I reached my hand across the table and picked up her hand. "Honey are you ok?" I asked with concern. "I mean, we only met briefly the other day, but this doesn't seem to be you."

"Yeah, I will be," as she dabbed at a couple tears with a tissue.

"You want to tell me about it?" My heart was breaking for my new friend.

Lauren finished wiping a couple of tears, then raised her sunglasses so I could see a partially swolen black and blue left eye.

I clasped my free hand over my surprised gaping mouth. "Oh my God girl! I am so sorry!" as I erupted in tears.

She lowered the sunglasses, "It not your fault," as she quietly sobbed.

I got out of my seat, quickly scrambling around so I could sit next to her, putting a consoling arm around the girl.

"Who did this to you honey?"

Trembling in my arms as she cried, "That guy I was with when we met."

Out of the corner my eye I noticed the waiter approaching with our meals. Now was not a good time so I waved him off. He understood and went back to the kitchen.

"Girl, I don't know you that well, but no matter what you did or said, there is absolutely no excuse for hitting you!"

I was seething with rage, desperately trying to hold it together. "I want to go find that pitiful excuse for a man and kick him in the balls!"

Lauren turned to me and smiled, "I already did."

"Yes! So happy for you!" as I squeezed my friend even tighter.

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I been kicked in the balls when I was in high-school so I knew what it felt like. Being an effeminate boy I was bullied alot. I was called sissy, fag, homo, and other nasty names. Although I was attracted to guys, somehow the word "gay" didn't seem to fit me and I didn't know why.

My little brother joined a baseball team at the beginning of summer break between my sophomore and junior year. Although he was almost exactly one year younger, I looked up to him. He was handsome, strong, and athletic. The opposite of me.

I tried, many times in vain, to be just like him. So much so that I joined the same team. The first week or so of practice was ok. Then things turned sour. Even though I tried to be as manly as possible the guys saw right through and started picking on me.

At the end of practice a couple of weeks in, Coach told us about a baseball camp at the end of summer. It would be right before school and baseball season started. I was so bound and determined to try be a man that I was going to do whatever it takes. If succeeding in baseball then was going to do it, so be it. Anything to stop the relentless teasing.

Our parents were very middle class. They had just paid for a very expensive repair on Mom's car and didn't have the money to send me to camp. My brother, on the other hand, was dating a girl with rich parents. They were more than happy to pay for his camp. My guess is those 2 weeks that he was going to be gone, was 2 weeks that he wasn't screwing their daughter.

So if I wanted to go, I had to work for it. Mowing lawns and doing the odd job here and there was going to help, but I needed more.

During this time, the price for recycling aluminum was at a very high point. I would walk for miles on end with a garbage bag or two collecting cans. Dumpster diving was totally gross, but that was where I found most of the cans.

One scorching mid day, knee deep in trash, I came across a pair of discarded 3 inch high heels. Later, I discovered that they were called mules. I paused my search and studied them for some time. The shoes were scuffed, well worn, and dirty. Carefully I picked a banana peel off of one heel. I was drawn to them in a way that I didn't understand.

The roar of the diesel engine of a garbage truck shook me out of my trance. I quickly threw the mules in my bag and jumped out just before the giant truck engaged the bin.

As soon as I hit the ground, I screamed out in agony. "FUCK!" I had twisted my ankle.

"SERVES YOU RIGHT, YOU DIRTY PIECE OF SHIT!" screamed the truck driver.

Picking up my trash bag, I slowly and painfully hobbled home. As soon as I got home I stashed the heels in a box in the garage.

Thankfully it was just a bad sprain, so doctor Mom wrapped it up in an Ace bandage. "I am so sorry son," consoling me the best that she can, "no baseball camp for you this year," while handing me some ibuprofen to ease the pain.

I just smiled at Mom, for baseball was the furthest thing from my mind. I had those shoes.

The next day, while my parents were at work and brother at practice, I hobbled out to the garage to retrieve the shoes. I carefully scrubbed off the grime and stench in the kitchen sink before setting them in the sun to dry.

The scuffed white leather upper and solid wood soles glistened in the bright daylight. Why was I so mesmerized by them?

I sat down in a nearby chair and for some unknown reason I shucked my right sneaker and sock. Before I had time to think about it, I slipped one heel onto my bare foot. It was still damp from the cleaning, so I had some difficulty wedging my foot inside.

A smile crept across my face as I felt a sense of peace wash over me. There were so many questions that came flooding into my brain, I was in complete overload. At that same time, I knew that I had all the answers.

Three weeks later, my ankle was finally healed enough that I could wear both heels. Tentative and careful steps in the garage soon became strutting in the hallway. A bit of dancing to music videos in my bedroom was a huge stress relief after a day of being tormented by classmates. I even tried walking out in the backyard. Ooops! Bad idea. The points of the heels quickly sank into the dirt.

While I loved my heels, I wanted more. Unfortunately digging in Mom's closet was a dead end. She is a fairly conservative woman and never wore anything with any kind of heel. She had flats and sandals, but it wasn't the same thrill.

As the year went on, it became dark early due to the seasonal change. I put my heels in my backpack, hopped on my bicycle and went to a nearby park. I just had to go walking outside in public.

In the dim light of the vanishing sun, after double checking that I was alone, I removed my ugly sneakers and deftly slipped on the mules.

Donning the backpack with the sneakers inside I slowly walked down the concrete pathway. The park was full of dense foliage that (hopefully) concealed the rhythmic click of my heels on the concrete as I walked. It was sweet music to my ears.

I had walked about a hundred or so yards when I heard the din of laughter, accompanied by the hum of fast moving bicycles.

Quickly I dodged off the path for the safety of the trees. My escape was thwarted by the soft soil and I didn't get very far.

"Hey!" shouted one of the cyclists.

Ignoring the intruder, I struggled in vain for the trees.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?", he aggressively asked as

three teenagers formed a circle around me.

"Nothing," I replied, trying to hide my face from the boys.

"Wait! Is that you,sissy boy?" asked one of them as he recognized me.

Uh oh! I was in some serious trouble. My regular bullies caught me and I was a long way from the relative safety of the school. At school they couldn't do much harm out of fear from getting suspended or expelled. Out here was a different story and I was wearing women's high heels.

Shining a flashlight in my face he laughed. "Guys! We caught us a sissy boy!"

Then shining the light at my feet, "What the fuck, sissy boy? Are you wearing girls shoes?".

Looking at the ground I refused to answer. What was I going to say anyway?

The boys got off their bikes and started shoving me around like a ball in a pinball machine. All the while laughing like a bunch of crazed lunatics.

Unable to hold it in any longer, I started to cry as I stumbled around in the soft dirt, fearing that I would twist my ankle again. I because a little dizzy and feared that I would twist my ankle again.

"Cry! Sissy boy, cry!," they shouted at me. "You wanna be a girl sissy boy?"

I was startled by the question and looked up. "What?"

"You heard me! Do you want to be a girl?"

"No," I replied, not believing my own voice.

Then, from a short distance, a deep gruff voice, "Hey! What are you doing out her? Leave him alone!"

"Your lucky day, sissy boy," one of my bullies said to me, "I can still make you into a girl."

With that, he reared back a leg, and swung forward, hard and fast. His foot a direct shot into my groin. I immediately doubled over falling to the ground in white hot pain as the boys made their escape.

"Boy, are you okay?" a gentlemans voice softly asked.

Tears were running rivers down my face as I looked up at the stranger, "No, not really," I was barely able to make out.

"Here, let me help you," as the man carefully lifted me to my feet.

I stood on uneasy legs, wobbling in my heels.

"Are you wearing high heels, son?"

"Yes sir," my timid voice quivering in fear.

"You might want to take them off. Do you have anything else to wear?"

"Yes sir. In my backpack."

The man retrieved my backpack and helped me to a bench so I could change. "Thank you for your help, sir," I quietly said as I put my sneakers on.

"Word of advice, son," he started, "if you want to dress up like a girl, you might want to do it in the safety of your own home".

"Yes sir".

"You want a ride home? You look to be in no condition to walk."

"Yes sir, I would appreciate that, sir. But my bicycle is over there," as I pointed it it's direction.

"No problem. I can just toss it in the back of my pickup truck."

The ride home was quiet, except for the soft notes of old country music on the radio and my directions.

Pulling up in front of my house the man helped again by easily hefting the bike out of the back.

"One more thing before you go, young man," pausing to collect his thoughts as he warmly smiled at me. "I don't know why you were wearing women's heels in a dark city park, it's none of my business.

Take this piece of advice from an old man who has had many dreams. People are going to hate and ridicule you no matter who you are or what you do. Live your life in a way that makes you happy, for you only have one life and it goes by real quick."

The pain from the kick lasted only a short time. The heels are sadly long gone. The mans words burned into my brain and became a motto for my entire life.

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Two weeks after our dinner, Lauren and I were out having a great time shopping. The swelling in her eye had gone down considerably and with some strategic makeup you couldn't tell anything had happened.

The both of us couldn't believe we had so much in common, it was almost freaky. Same taste in fashion, music and sense of humor. Instant best friends.

Stopping for a lunch break, Lauren filled me in more on her story. She had just moved to the city from cross country with a job transfer/ promotion and hence didn't know anyone.

Eager to get situated in a new life, she signed up for one of those dating apps. The man seemed nice over the phone so she agreed to meet up at a restaurant. He was handsome, funny and intelligent. He was also a great conversationalist and seemed genuinely interested if there was a subject he was unfamiliar with.

After dinner there was dancing and a bit too much to drink on both parts. Rather than being stupid and driving drunk, an Uber to his apartment was in order.

"Once inside, we resumed our kissing."

At this point Lauren started shake a bit, hesitating between words.

"Thats ok, honey," I reassured her, "You don't have to go on."

Looking up at me, her lower lip was quivering and her watery eyes were about to burst open any moment.

"I think that I am going to call it quits with guys for a while."

"Absolutely, honey, absolutely," I smiled. I could only imagine the depths of her pain.

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Two weeks later

I smiled as I heard a light knock on the door to my apartment. Right on time.

Opening the door, "Welcome Lauren! Come on in! You can hang your coat up right here," gesturing to the coat rack.

"You didn't tell me what you are making us for dinner, so I brought a bottle of red and a bottle of white."

I accepted the bottles while she shrugged off the coat. "Wow! Two big bottles!" I smiled. Then, teasingly I asked, "Are you trying to get me drunk?" with a wink.

A slow "Mayyyybe," as she exaggeratedly looked off in a different direction.

"I love your sense of humor!" I laughed.

"Who said I was joking?" as she turned to look at me with a completely straight face.

We stared at each other for a moment, before we simultaneously burst out laughing.

"Come this way, dinner is almost ready," as I led her to the kitchen.

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"Dinner was absolutely fabulous Lorraine! Where did you learn to cook like that?"

We were in the living room a couple of glasses into the second bottle sitting close together on the couch. Some soft jazz was emanating from the stereo.

"I spent alot of days sick at home, so I learned from my mother. "

"Sick?" a sad look of sympathy pain on her face.

"Well.....," I hesitated, "more like recuperating from getting beaten up at school." I said softly, not able to look her in the eyes.

"Oh I am so sorry. Why would anyone want to beat up such a beautiful woman as you?"

"You think that I am beautiful?"

"Yes, very beautiful," as she lightly caressed my cheek.

"I wasn't always a beautiful woman."

"I can't imagine that. Not at all."

The tension in the air was thick. We were both very buzzed, not quite drunk, but close.

"May I ask you a question?" I said quietly.

"Sure, anything." She knew that it wasn't going to be just any question.

"You said that you are quitting boys for a while."

"Right".

"You ever been with a girl?"

"Yes I have. I am not going totally gay though. I like a good dicking now and then. Too bad so many of them are so not worth it. How about you?"

"Same here. Women are beautiful, soft, and senual, but I too love to get fucked hard and fast."

"My turn for a question," Lauren softly said.

"Anything."

"Can I kiss you?"

She knew my reply without words being said. We leaned towards each other for the kiss. It was a short, but sensuous kiss. Both of us testing the waters.

"Mmmmm, that was nice," she smiled dreamily at me.

"Yes it was," as I gazed into her pretty blue eyes.

Then my conscious got the better of me. I had to tell her about my secret before things went any further. In my dreams Lauren would never have found out. I was terrified. Would she still be my friend?

"Are you ok Lorraine?" She saw the uneasiness in my eyes. "Are WE ok?" as she sat back a bit.

"Lauren, I need to tell you something really important. I feel that I have been lying to you about something and it is really tearing me up inside."

"Lying to me?" the pain of being hurt again obvious in her eyes.

"Or maybe deceiving you. Not really telling the whole truth. I don't know. Its kinda hard to explain."

"Ok, fine. I haven't been telling you the whole truth either."

"Ok, lets be totally honest with each other from here on out."

"Deal," she smiled.

"Ok, here goes." I stood up and stepped a few feet away.

Unable to look at the best friend that I have ever had, I turned my head as I dropped my skirt and panties all in one motion.

"O-M-G!!! It is beyooootifullll!!" Lauren exclaimed with pure joy and excitement as my flacid penis came into view.

"Really?" I quizzically asked, not sure I heard her correctly.

"Yes! That is the most beautiful cock that I have ever seen!"

"Thank you," I blushed, part out of embarrassment, part out of relief from her unabashed excitement when I revealed my secret.

Standing up, Lauren advanced towards me. We wrapped our arms around each other as we passionately kissed.

After taking a breath, Lauren announced, "Now it is my turn to be 100% honest with you." Not saying a word, I raised my eyebrows in anticipation, her dishonesty could never be as bad as mine.

"When we first met, our first words were, Its like looking into a mirror."

I nodded, remembering that day so vividly.

"Now that I know I know your secret," she began, as she dropped her skirt and panties to the floor. "Its even more like looking into a mirror than we originally thought."

My gaze fell to her pubic area. Fully expecting to see a pretty pink pussy, I was shocked to see a dick about the same size as mine.