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A Stranger in the House
My father bailed out on us when I was fifteen, and my kid brother, Tommy, was thirteen. He completely disappeared, and could not be found. He didn't want to have to pay child support, I suppose. My mother had married him two days after she graduated from high school. She had no academic training, but she was fortunate enough to get a job as a retail clerk in a department store.
She was bound and determined not to lose our house, but her meager salary was not going to cut the mustard. My mother was a shrewd woman, and she had a plan. In fact, she always had a solution for everything, and her acumen helped us hold on to everything we had.
Tommy and I had separate bedrooms. Mine was somewhat larger than his. We each had a standard-sized double bed, and my room could handle both beds, even though it would be very crowded. Somehow we were able to put Tommy's bed and dresser into my room. It was cluttered but we could manage.
Mom found a box spring, mattress, dresser and night table in a thrift shop. We had plenty of linen, and she set up Tommy's old room to be very attractive. We were not too far from New York University, and she advertised a room for rent in the school newspaper. Within a week, the room was rented to a freshman, who was looking for off campus housing for her remaining college years.
She and my mom agreed to a rental fee of $600 a month, and that included breakfast and dinner. Between Mom's salary and our rental income, the shortfall was satisfied. Also, Tommy and I always had after school jobs, and so we contributed to our sustenance in a very small way.
Jordana Smith (yes, her name was really Smith) came to live with us on the last day of classes at the end of her freshman year. Tommy and I came home from our part time jobs to find Jordie unpacking her very meager belongings, and hanging them up in the closet, or giving them a space in her dresser. We knocked on her door, which was open, and introduced ourselves. "I'm Paul," I said, "and my brother is Tommy." There were no chairs in the room, so Tommy and I sat on her bed, and the three of us made small talk while Jordie continued to make her room into her home.
Actually, there was one big topic of discussion, and that was to create a bathroom schedule, since all three of us would be using the same facility. While discussing a schedule, a thought occurred to me, and I had to ask. "How come you're not going home for the summer, Jordie? Most college students can't wait for school breaks so they can go home."
"I don't have a home. I've been in foster care since I was fourteen. Besides, I'm paying my own way through college, and I have to work." She made that statement, and said no more. Now my curiosity was being stimulated, but I wasn't about to question a complete stranger.
Jordie had her first dinner with us that evening. Mom, Tommy and I took our habitual seats, so Jordie sat on the chair my dad used to sit in. For some unexplained reason, that really bothered me. It was a silly thought, and I tried to put it out of my head. On the other hand my mom was delighted to have another female in the house, who she could mother.
Jordie was living with us for three years when she graduated from college, and I graduated from high school. We couldn't afford for me to go to college, and I wasn't a candidate for any partial scholarships, like Jordie had been, but I got a really good job in the service department of a Buick dealership. Don't cry for me. They sent me to a training school, where I learned to service all General Motors products, and I loved every moment of my training, and every moment on the job.
Jordie had majored in Finance, and she got a good job in an investment management firm. Although she and I could well afford to get our own apartments, we went on living at home. It was as if she had always lived with us, and had been a member of the household since birth. Somehow Jordie had adopted us as her family.
One thing bothered me. Tommy and I were dating, and even my mom was seeing someone, but Jordie never dated. Everyone, including Jordie, knew that I was dating boys. One evening at the dinner table in my junior high school year, I came out to my family. There was method to my madness. From the day I met Jordie, I could never figure out her sexual orientation, and I hoped that if I came out, she would declare herself also, but it never happened.
One day I had a thought. I wondered if Jordie would be willing to share an apartment with me. I figured that neither of us could stay in the nest forever. When I presented her with the idea, she nixed it. "Why should we move, when we are all so comfortable here?' She shocked me when she added, "We're family."
I got it. Jordie was trying to hold on to the only family she had. She had no other. I explained to her that no matter where life led us, we would always be family. She began to cry. "I'll think about it. Maybe someday," she answered.
So we went on living status quo. We had to face facts, however. I knew my brother was smart, but I had no idea how smart. He got a full scholarship to Cornell University in upstate New York. We were all so proud of him, and we celebrated his success, but I knew in my heart that he would never return home after he graduated. I could only wonder if Jordie would be more willing to move in with me in our own apartment, now that Tommy had left our cozy nest.
Tommy wasn't gone a year, when my mother made a stunning announcement. She was manager of the bridal department at the department store, and she had met a manufacturer's rep, Ed Hartman, who sold bridal, mother of the bride, and bridesmaids' gowns. They had started a "thing," and he wanted her to marry him and move to Albany. She dropped the bombshell at dinner one night. "I'll be selling the house," she said, "and it's time that you two flew the nest anyway."
She gave us no chance to discuss it. In her head it was a done deal. I decided to have it out with Jordie. I didn't want to rent an apartment by myself. I wanted her to share it with me. After everyone went to bed, I went into Jordie's room without knocking. She was in bed, under the covers, and I sat right down on her bed. I asked her point blank, why she was so hesitant to share an apartment with me.
"You're gay," she said. "You'll want to bring tricks home. You'll need privacy, and I'll be in the way."
"Nonsense," I said. "We'll have separate bedrooms. It wouldn't bother me, if you brought guys home."
"It might never happen," she said.
It was my cue to learn her sexual orientation at last, and I asked her directly, "Are you a lesbian?"
"No!" she answered very emphatically.
"Well then, what's wrong? Don't you have a vagina?"
She looked me straight in my eye. I could see that she was working up the courage to tell me something.
"No," she finally said. "I don't have a vagina. I have a penis. I'm partially transgendered, and I don't have enough money yet to complete the transition. I used to be Jordan." She started to cry so hard, her shoulders were heaving. I put my arms around her in a vain attempt to comfort her.
"Does that mean that you want to be a heterosexual woman, and would prefer to be with men?"
"Yes. I believe so. But I'm between a rock and a hard place. Until my transition is complete, I couldn't satisfy a man, or a woman, for that matter."
I wasn't so sure. "Nonsense," I said. "Does your penis still work, and if it doesn't, you have a mouth. You could have oral sex with either a man or a woman."
"I'm a freak right now. Where would I find a man willing to sleep with me? When I was still in high school, I dated a guy who knew that I was transgendered. He didn't mind at all until he found out that I still had a penis."
"Are you sorry that you are transitioning?" I asked.
"I honestly don't know, but for sure I'm having second thoughts."
I could see how much she was hurting, so I put my arms around her and held her close. "If you are having second thoughts, you could go back on male hormones, get your breast implants removed, and resume being a man," I suggested.
"I wouldn't be gay, if that's what you are hoping," she said. "I'd sleep with women. I refuse to go through life being gay."
"There are a lot worse things,' I said, slightly insulted, "and it beats mutilating your body. As an extra added bonus, we could move in together as two brothers sharing an apartment. You could entertain in your bedroom, and I could do the same in mine."
"I'll sleep on it," Jordie said. I was still holding her tight, and we both fell asleep. We slept together all night. In the morning, she got out of bed to use the bathroom, and I got to see her very erect cock. It was a beauty, and I was filled with lust. I had to assume that it still worked.
Two months later, after Mom's house went to contract, Jordie and I decided that we had to make a decision at last. "Let's go out to dinner tonight at some nice quiet restaurant," she said. "I have lots to talk to you about." I wished that she didn't sound so ominous. I would hope that our moving in together would please her.
At dinner, Jordie waited until we had ordered, and asked me not to interrupt her while she spoke.
"I've made a decision not to transgender," she said.
I wanted to tell her how pleased I was, but I had promised not to interrupt her. My thoughts were all on the beautiful cock that I had seen just once. I couldn't bear the thought of it being lopped off.
"I've spoken to the doctor who is preparing me to transgender. He had me stop taking female hormones immediately. It's only been a little over a week, and I can feel stubble on my cheeks already. In about three weeks, he's going to give me small doses of male hormones until my body starts to produce testosterone on its own. I've also spoken to the doctor who did my breast implants and he is removing them on Friday."
She paused and I figured I could speak now. "It's going to be difficult for me to think of you as being a he and not a she. What do I call you now? Jordan?"
"You can keep right on calling me Jordie."
"What about your workplace? "I asked. "Will they be all right with it?"
"I spoke to my boss, and he was actually happy for me not to transition. He even offered to adjust my name on all company records. He couldn't guarantee how my co-workers would react. He told me that I was on my own there."
"Now we can look for an authentic bachelor pad even if it's for one straight and one gay bachelor brother," I laughed.
"I'm not going to say anything at work until my boobs are gone. Then I'll get a haircut, and maybe grow a little beard."
"I think you'll be very handsome with a beard," I said sincerely.
Jordie laughed. "Are you coming on to me? Remember I'm straight."
"You can't stop me from loving you," I said, just as our food was brought to our table.
The moment Jordie's boobs were removed, and I could see the beginnings of facial hair, I finally began to think of him in the masculine. He was so handsome, I was shocked. That was not doing much for my lust. The two of us went on a shopping spree for new clothes for him, and Jordie sprung for a stylist to cut his hair, rather than an ordinary barber. In between all this transition business, we managed to find an ideal apartment. It was a two bedroom in a down town high rise. Both bedrooms were approximately the same size and each had a private bathroom. They were at opposite ends of the apartment, assuring complete privacy.
By the time we settled into the apartment, Jordie was all man again, which created a big problem for me. I was terribly in love with him (as I had always been) and my lust was consuming me. To make matters worse, we often paraded around the apartment in our birthday suits. Even more depressing, Jordie entertained his first woman before I entertained my first guy. Every time he called me, "Bro," my guts wrenched, and I began to regret that we had taken an apartment together.
In the beginning Jordie brought around several different women, several times a week. I was lucky to have a trick once every ten days or so. I would struggle to hear him making love. Little by little he slowed down, and he rarely brought a girl home with him. I was curious but I was afraid to ask him about it.
When he decided not to transition, Jordie had been all smiles and he was very upbeat. As his sex life slowed down, he became very somber and morose. Maybe I couldn't ask him about his sex life, but something was obviously bothering him, and I could ask him what his problem was.
The next evening at dinner, I very delicately asked him if something was wrong. He didn't answer. Instead he asked me a question. "How do you feel about me?" I decided to be perfectly honest.
"I'm crazy in love with you," I answered him. "I obsess about making love to you all the time."
"I suspected," he said, "but I was afraid to ask. Now listen to me. I can't go on lying to myself. I love you. Whenever I make love to a woman, I fantasize that you and I are going at it. It's becoming an obsession with me too. I have come to realize that the reason I wanted to be a woman was so that I could make love to a man without the stigma of being gay. I don't give a fuck anymore."
We reached for each other's hands and squeezed tight. "I'd like for us to sleep together tonight," I suggested.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
We didn't rush. We finished dinner slowly, smiling at each other the whole time. After dinner we had a glass of wine. We were both trying to stay restrained, but I couldn't bear it any longer. I jumped up and wrapped my arms around Jordie. I placed my lips on his, and he responded with a wonderful, but slobbery, passionate kiss.
"Let's shower together," I suggested.
"Your shower or mine?" he laughed.
"Mine," I said.
Ah, what a shower we had. It was the best shower I ever had in my life. We alternated sucking our cocks. Back and forth we went until we stopped each other before the point of no return. We reamed each other's asses with soapy fingers, until the ecstasy overwhelmed us, and we both began to sob. We knew then and there that we were mated for life.
After we were dried off, we fell onto my bed. I removed some condoms and KY Jelly from a dresser drawer, and laid them on my bedside cabinet. I looked into Jordie's eyes, and then we kissed.
"Fuck me," I pleaded.
By now Jordie was frenzied. He entered me quickly, and I hurt for a few seconds, but I definitely did not give a damn. In fact, I came before he did. Afterward we held each other as tightly as we could, as we fondled each other and fell asleep.
The next morning, Tommy called me on my cell phone at work. "What's doing, Bro?" I asked. I wondered if he could hear the joy in my voice.
"Well," he started, "Spring break is coming up. I'm going to visit Mom in Albany for a day or two, but after that, I really want to come home to New York. Do you think you and Jordie could let me borrow the sofa for a week?"
"You can have a private bedroom and bathroom," I informed him.
"Does that mean that you finally smartened up, and are sleeping with a woman? I'll bet she's great in bed. Did Jordie leave you or is she the one you're sleeping with?"
I suddenly realized that in the time Tommy was at Cornell, nobody had ever told him about Jordana being partially transitioned, and that he was now Jordan again.
"When you get here I'll tell you all about it. I love you," I said, as if he didn't know.
When Jordie came home (he always got home later than I did) I told him about Tommy's visit, and how uninformed he was about his sex change. We laughed our sides off, thinking about what a shock he was going to get. We were certain that Tommy wouldn't recognize the bearded man who was sleeping with his brother, so we agreed to introduce Jordie as John Jones.
That night we were so excited about Tommy's impending visit that we couldn't sleep, so we filled the long hours making love. We sucked and fucked each other back and forth, delaying our orgasms for as long as possible, so that when we came, it was an intense experience. I thought back to Tommy's belief that I had "smartened" up and was sleeping with a woman, and I snickered. "You have no idea what you are missing," I thought.
The night before his arrival, I sent Tommy a text. I told him that my lover, John, and I would be at work when he arrived. I told him where I had a key hidden, and that the bedroom on the left side of the apartment was his.
"I'll be home at 5:30," I texted him.
The blessed day arrived. I let myself into my apartment at 5:40 PM. Tommy had dressed down to a pair of gym shorts and nothing more. He had made himself perfectly at home. I stared at his ripped chest, and murmured, "What have you been doing with yourself? Lifting weights?"
"Exactly," he answered me. We embraced so hard, I was afraid that I would crush his bones.
"As soon as John gets home, we're taking you out to dinner," I informed my brother. This is an auspicious occasion, and we want to celebrate. Let someone else wait on us for a change."
"I'd better get dressed again," he said.
Jordie came home while Tommy was dressing for dinner. He came out of his room to find Jordie and me smooching in the living room. "Ahem," he said, "sorry to interrupt."
I introduced the two men I loved most in the world, and they shook hands cordially. Tommy obviously didn't recognize the bearded guy in the room.
"You didn't tell me how handsome your main squeeze is," Tommy said to me. "I'm straight, and even I could go for him. You guys better keep your door locked at night." He broke out laughing to indicate that he was only kidding.
"John's not my main squeeze. He's my only squeeze," I answered with a smile.
"Tell me, Paul," Tommy asked me. "Where the hell is Jordie? I miss her and I want to see her before I go back to Ithaca."
"Let's go to dinner, and I'll tell you all about her."
Halfway through dinner Tommy demanded that I tell him where Jordie was. "I want to see her," he said. "I miss her a lot."
I drew a deep breath, and told him that Jordana used to be Jordan. "She was transitioning from a man to a woman," I said. "Shortly after you ran off to Cornell, she revealed her secret to me, but she said that she was having second thoughts. I got a glimpse of her whopping big cock and urged her to abort the transition while she still could. She's back to being Jordon again, Tommy."
I don't care if she's a man or a woman," Tommy wailed. "I want to see her. I care for her. Do you know where she is? She's my sister, or my brother, or whatever the fuck. I just don't care."
Poor Tommy had gone from utter awe to total depression. I thought the joke had gone too far. I had no idea how much my brother loved Jordie, in a brotherly way of course. I took both of Tommy's hands in mine.
"Look in John's eyes," I commanded, "and tell me what you see."
He did that; stared for a few seconds, and said, "I still see a handsome guy, who I'm glad to have as a brother-in-law."
"You're looking with your eyes," I said. "Look at him with your heart and soul."
Tommy resumed looking at Jordie, and the light dawned. He gave out one big sob, and started to cry. At the same time, he grabbed Jordie and started to hug him. John, John, he repeated over and over.
"No Tommy," Jordie said. "We made up the name John Jones to tease you. I'm still Jordie."
"I'm so happy," Tommy wailed. "The three of us are together again."
"Until you go back to Ithaca," I moaned.
"It doesn't matter," Tommy said. "A couple of hundred miles isn't going to make a difference. We'll always be bonded together. You said you wanted to celebrate my homecoming, Paul. I want to celebrate your union to Jordie. I love you both so much."
I began to cry because I was so happy. I couldn't help thinking that I could not have dreamed, that when the young college girl, who was a perfect stranger, came to live with us, that we three would become as one for the rest of our lives.