The Friend Who Turned Me Into a Woman That Night

—Get this straight once and for all: you’re not much of a man.

She said it shouting, and in that instant she stopped being my wife and became my ex. Ten years of marriage ended in the middle of a sentence. She wasn’t finished yet.

—Because of you I became a lesbian, and I feel free of you. That little misery you have between your legs never turned me on. The first time I slept with a woman I felt more pleasure than in a decade with you. Every time we did it I felt like you were the woman, and that tiny thing was a clit rubbing me from the inside.

She yanked the door open and walked out dragging two suitcases. Another woman was waiting for her outside in a car. She gave her a long, juicy, shameless kiss, and before getting in she looked at me one last time.

—Keep everything I’m leaving in this house. I’m never coming back. I’m leaving the country.

The car started up. It was the last time I saw her.

I stood there in the hall, silent, not knowing what to do with my own hands. I called some friends from college, the ones I’d stayed close to over the years. In less than an hour, four of them were in my living room patting me on the back. Three women and one man. But they’d come with a fifth person I hadn’t expected.

—Mateo was with us when you called —Carla said—. I hope you don’t mind that he came.

I shrugged indifferently and let them in.

Mateo had a handsome face and a well-built body, sculpted at the gym, though without the exaggerated bulk of iron fanatics. Women came naturally to him. And yet we’d never really clicked. It made me uncomfortable to be seen with him, because he was effeminate, with soft gestures and a sing-song voice, one of those people who don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. I’d despised him for that for years. That night I had no idea how much my world was about to change.

***

We spent a couple of hours making up excuses: the distance, the wear and tear, how we just weren’t the same anymore. No one asked about the truth. When they left, I was once again alone with the echo of the empty house. Half an hour later, someone knocked at the door.

It was Mateo. He apologized: he’d forgotten his keys when he left. But he didn’t go right back for them. He looked me in the eyes a little too long, noticed something I thought I hid well, and said:

—I know this is always going to hurt. I think what you need right now is a hug to let it out.

He pulled me to him. I didn’t resist. He was right: I needed it. He held me tight, ran his hand down my back and along my nape, slowly, with a calm I didn’t know I needed so badly. We stayed like that for a long while, in the middle of the living room, saying nothing.

—Thanks —I murmured, and suddenly I felt indebted to him—. Want some coffee?

He said yes, and we went to the kitchen. While I filled the coffee maker, he watched me from the doorway.

—I think there’s more to this story —he said—. Why did she really leave you?

I couldn’t dodge the question. My face burned just thinking about confessing it, because the answer attacked exactly what I believed made me a man.

I was leaning back against a cabinet. Mateo came closer until he was less than a handspan from me. I could feel his warm breath. He combed my hair back with his fingers, slowly, and the strangest thing was that I didn’t pull away.

—You can trust me —he said softly.

—It’s my member —I finally blurted out—. It says I’m not much of a man, that I have it too small to satisfy anyone. It says that because of me she became a lesbian.

Mateo arched an eyebrow.

—Don’t believe everything she told you —he advised—. Maybe she always liked women and you were just her most convenient excuse.

While he talked, his hands slid down to my shirt and started unbuttoning it. When I felt him tug at the buckle of my belt, I reacted.

—What are you doing?

—Relax. Let’s check whether it’s really as small as she says.

And before I could answer, he slipped his hands down the sides of my underwear and pulled it to my knees. I was fully exposed in front of him.

He smiled, not mockingly, almost tenderly. He held my gaze.

—I’m going to show you something.

He pulled his pants and briefs down in one motion. It was the first time in my life I’d ever seen a man’s sex up close that wasn’t my own. It was at least five times longer than mine and twice as thick.

—This —he said— is a real cock. Compare them.

He lifted it and pressed it against mine, the two pointing upward like two unequal pipes, and he gripped them both with one hand. Mine barely covered his pinky and ring finger; the head didn’t even rise above his middle finger. He needed both hands to encompass his.

He let go of me, pressed his pelvis against mine, and with his other hand brushed one of my nipples. A moan escaped me halfway between pain and a pleasure I didn’t know.

—Adrián —he said, looking straight at me—. Forget what that woman told you. It’s not worth it. It’s time to start over, and for that you have to become someone new. Accept it: with this thing, if you can even call it that, you’re never going to have a woman. But you can become something else. Do you have a full-length mirror in your room?

I nodded, not fully understanding. He finished taking off his clothes with his feet and took mine off as well. He took my hand and we walked to the bedroom.

***

In front of the mirror, his body looked far more manly than mine. I accepted it without effort. Mateo opened the closet my wife had left half empty. He took out some copper-colored sandals with a small heel and a light dress.

—Have you ever worn her clothes? —he asked.

I shook my head.

—Good. This is going to be your first time at everything.

He helped me slip on the sandals and pulled the dress over my head. I looked at myself in the mirror, dressed as a woman for the first time, and something inside me let go like a knot that had been tightening for years.

All the sadness from the last few hours evaporated. In its place remained a pure, immense exhilaration that transformed me completely. I felt freer than ever before.

—I can’t believe it —I said, my voice trembling with emotion—. I look at myself and I feel so… feminine, so womanly.

I smiled, and the smile came out different, new.

—You don’t need any woman —Mateo said—. You are the woman.

He kissed me. I kissed him back with a hunger that surprised even me, playing with his tongue, wrapping my arms around his neck, stroking his back and the nape of his neck.

—Thank you, thank you, thank you —I kept repeating between kisses, almost laughing.

He led me to the bed and sat me on the edge. I was right at the height of his sex, and I understood without him saying anything what he wanted. I took him in both hands and stroked him, dazzled.

—Suck it —he asked, with a softness that was almost affectionate.

I kissed the tip and pulled back the foreskin. I covered him in little kisses from the base to the glans, then ran my tongue slowly from bottom to top, like someone licking an ice cream they don’t want to melt. I coated him completely in saliva until I felt him harden against my tongue. Then I took him into my mouth for the first time.

I started with just the head, sucking it like a candy. Then I slowly lowered him down until he was deep in my throat. My tongue pressed against the underside. He held me by the nape and set the rhythm: he pushed in until I felt him all the way, let me pull back to breathe, then pushed in again.

My own sex didn’t react. But to my amazement, I felt myself starting to get wet from behind. I’d never experienced anything like it. I didn’t want to let go of my new toy. I sucked him, licked him, massaged him with my hands while I moaned, and I heard him moan too. I tasted the salty flavor of his fluid and that only aroused me more. I took him all the way in and returned to the tip, over and over.

Mateo lost control. He pulled my hair harder and harder, setting a frantic rhythm.

—I’m coming —he warned with a growl.

And that was when I tasted his semen for the first time: on my tongue, on my lips, on my chin, on my neck. Hot, thick, abundant. I hurried to savor every bit of it, licking along his member as if I didn’t want to waste a drop. The last spurt filled my throat. Then he collapsed onto the bed, pulled me toward him, and we kissed deeply, mixing his taste with our saliva.

He looked me in the eyes. I felt in love.

—I want a new name —I told him—. A woman’s name.

—All right… Vera.

Hearing it sent a shiver of pleasure through me.

—Yes. Call me Vera. Or Valentina. Or both.

—All right, Vera Valentina. Don’t stop talking. Say what you feel, what you want, what you desire. Don’t hold back your transformation.

—I want you to turn me into a woman —I begged—. Make me yours. I want to give you my ass, I want to shout to the world that I’m a girl. I want to feel your cock inside me. I’m yours. Fuck me. Make love to me.

***

The fire flared back to life. Mateo kissed me with a new fury. He yanked my hair back, sucked and bit my nipples, dug his fingers into my hips. He turned me face down, spread my legs and pulled my buttocks apart. He spat several times to lubricate me well.

—I’m a woman, I’m a girl, I’m a princess —I repeated, beside myself.

The pain was tearing when he entered me in one thrust, without pausing, all the way to the end. My muscles gave way under the force. I screamed with agony and pleasure at the same time. I felt like I was burning inside.

—You’re a woman now —he announced triumphantly as he sank deeper.

He collapsed over my back. I felt his chest against me, his breathing on my nape. He wrapped his arms around the front of me, grabbed my shoulders, and used me as a lever to go deeper: out, back in, out, back in. We both moaned like lunatics.

I didn’t care if the neighbors heard. I shouted it, my voice broken:

—I like it, I love it! I’m not a man anymore, I’m a woman! I can’t live without this inside me!

Then the spasms started. My body contracted on its own, without me deciding, and for the first time I felt a jolt of pleasure run through me from the inside: an orgasm that didn’t come from my sex, but from the deepest part of me. While I pressed myself against him, Mateo came too, spilling inside me. With the last thrust he went all the way in. I arched my hips to feel everything.

We were left breathless, panting, stuck to each other.

—Thank you, Mateo, for taking my virginity and turning me into a woman —I told him, looking at him in a way I’d never imagined looking at another man, only this time I was no longer one—. I’ll be yours whenever you want.

—You needed it, Valentina —he replied, stroking my hair—. That thing you had was an accessory you’ve just freed yourself from. From today on, you’ll only find meaning in life with pretty sandals, with dresses, with lace against your skin and giving your ass up for pure pleasure.

We kissed again, slowly, and that’s how my new life began.

And if you’re reading me, I want you to know that I want that with you too: to dress for you, to give you every part of my body, to leave no corner untasted, until we reach the end together.

Vera Valentina.