The day Andrew joined Dal in a coffee shop without being invited, was the moment that love was born. But he only seemed interested in being friends. Until the day he wanted to add benefits to that friendship and inadvertently caused Dal’s transformation to start.
Born fe/male Dal was still years away from worrying about the transformation, but Andrew had different ideas. He wanted this young fe/male and badly. Married to a fe/male before, the transformation ended with tragic consequences that still plagued his dreams. Was the mistake of his past repeating itself, or was there a chance that they could overcome the hurdle that Dal could become the wrong gender?
According to the author, this book contains descriptive writing about sexual acts between consenting adults.
The author has rated this book XXX (adults of legal age, 18 and up, only).
“We are nothing.”
I gritted my teeth and re-read the assignment: discuss the above statement and motivate your arguments.
I took a sip of my favourite black brew, sitting at my favourite table in my favourite coffee shop, Java Hop. Sometimes I could kick myself for taking Philosophy as a subject. It did have its moments, but this was not turning out to be one of them.
Creating a new file on my computer, I muttered. “I am not nothing. I may not be male. I may not be female. I may not be hermaphroditic. BUT…I…AM…NOT…NOTHING…!”
Pounding the keys at the same time, I tried to formulate an argument that didn’t sound like the ravings of a lunatic. How someone could write or say such a thing, especially when that someone had been fe/male like me, baffled me. To be honest it irritated me beyond belief.
A chuckle interrupted my musings. I looked up. A reluctant smile twitched my lips.
I felt my eyebrows lift. “How did you know?”
He pointed to my almost full mug of coffee. “It is the only time you drink it black. And I would bet you didn’t put any sugar in there either.”
I sat back. “Guilty.”
I watched him take the empty chair at my table. I had specifically chosen the smallest table so that people wouldn’t want to join me when this place would fills up in an hour or so. Andrew had ignored that from the start. We met here, exactly when the coffee shop was crowded too. There had been other tables with empty chairs, but no, he plunked himself down at mine.
At the time I had been so surprised, that I had forgotten to object. We have been friends ever since. It still makes him laugh when I tell that story to other friends.
He ordered his usual double espresso, the man had to have a cast iron stomach at the rate that he drank those, and dug out his own computer from his shoulder bag.
He fascinated me. Despite the ten year age difference, we just clicked. Andrew Gilmour was a multi-award winning writer of speculative and SF books and short stories, fiction and non-fiction. Although I liked him, even considered myself more than a little in love, I was still puzzled as to why he approached me and also became my friend.
Of course, my other friends said that he fell in love with me, at first sight. However romantic they made that sound, he had never indicated that he had those kinds of feelings towards me.
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