Resolution

"You know," she said, touching my chest again, "it really isn't that noticeable. Does it bother you?"

"I don't know, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it all. I really like that you like my hair. We've come a long way since that damned letter what was it, three years ago?"

She looked, I don't know, sad, remorseful, hurt, whatever. She said, "You know I'm sorry that I'm the way I am. You've been wonderful about it all. But I'm afraid that what was in the letter still stands. But with all you've done... well, it's easier to live with, you know? I know that the hair thing was for me, and, well, you wear the cologne that I like, just because I like it. I know that you really would never have chosen it for yourself." She threw her arms around me and said, "I love you all the more for what you've tried to do." With her head buried on my chest, (I know she was aware of the pseudo breasts there) she said, "I know you don't want to lose me and I don't want to lose you. I... I just don't see how..." her words trailed off like she didn't want to even think about the eventual end. I could feel moisture on my bare chest, so I could tell she was crying softly. I was desperate to do or say something to lighten her mood.

"You know, when I told the PA that I thought I'd just keep taking the Propecia she jumped to the conclusion that I'd like to grow breasts. She told me that if I really wanted breasts, I should consider implants."

Erica pulled back and looked at me. "You'd do that for me?"

"Ah, ... well, ... I didn't say I would, but well, she did offer to give me a referral... if I wanted to."

There was a look of hope in her eyes, but it faded as she chewed over what I'd said.

"Well, I couldn't ask you to do that for me. I mean, well it's a big deal. Surgery and all and well once it's done, then you'd have wear a bra and well, everyone would notice that you have a chest. Not many men have a bustline."

I was quiet for a long while, while she searched my face.

"Erica, can you answer a question honestly?"

"I'll try."

"Look, I'll try not to be... er, I'll try not to make this sound as if I'm angry or anything, because I'm not, but well... it's hard to think about." I looked at her; it was my turn to search her face. She just looked at me, kind of expectantly, like she was waiting for what I might say. "This hairstyling, those silk pajamas and cologne and the shampoo, conditioner, body moisturizer thing was it that... was that supposed to make me seem more feminine... so I'd be more attractive to you?"

She started to say something, stopped, started and stopped again. I pulled her back into a hug. "Look, don't answer right away. I just need to know... because if it does, well, ... well, I want to be more attractive to you. But if, and it's a big if, if you're not sure that what ever I might be able to bring myself to do... well, some of it might be pretty drastic and permanent and well... if it's not going to have the desired effect, then maybe it's better if I don't do it at all."

She took a deep breath as if to speak.

"Not yet," I told her. "Look, I made myself a vow, I'd do what ever I needed to do to keep you... OK? But I need some kind of assurance that well, there's some hope that I can keep you. Please think about it and let me know if I have a chance. I'd rather become feminine and have you than be masculine and lose you. Just think about it OK?" I kissed her softly on top of her head. "Look I've got to get going... I've got to do my meals on wheels thing. Some of those old people get cranky if I don't show up on time."

I turned quickly and pulled on my T-shirt, a polo shirt and went out to my truck before she could answer. I didn't know what kind of can of worms I'd opened and thought that leaving her time to think would be better than staying to hash it out. In reality, I had plenty of time to pick up the meals and none of the old people were the cranky type. I usually sat and talked with some of them for a while if they seemed to want it, so I didn't really have a schedule.

That evening Erica spent some time looking at me and I could almost hear the gears turning. After the kids went to bed, we watched some television for while. When we finally got to bed, I showered with the lavender body wash, the lavender shampoo and conditioner, and used the lavender cologne. I put on the silk pajamas, thinking just how girlie they were, even though they were masculine cut with the large buttons on the right, just like my dress shirts and they were a royal blue with white piping. You couldn't get a more masculine color, but just the same, I'm sure that in the dark, the felt like something a woman would wear and Erica liked that. Just before leaving the bath room, I used the blow dryer, giving my hair a poofy feminine look and gave myself an extra dose of the cologne. I stood, for a minute, looking at myself in the full-length mirror on the door. My chest was just full enough to be noticeable under the cling of the silk pajama top.

God, I almost look like a woman.

Erica looked at me and smiled as I came into the bedroom.

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

Erica cuddled up to me with her head on my shoulder. She lightly rubbed her finger tips over my chest, pausing to circle a nipple, finally letting her hand come to rest on the fullness. She tilted her head, nuzzling my ear. "You smell so good," she said.

I didn't respond, but thought about just how feminine I was right then. That's what she likes, I thought.

It was my turn to think. I know I've told myself that I'd do what ever it takes to hang onto Erica, but it's crunch time. Will I, when push comes to shove? Just then, she kissed me. With real passion. I could feel the love flowing out of her. Then suddenly she stroked my cheek.

"No stubble! What happened to your stubble? You know, I've not felt any stubble for weeks, but I just thought it was a really good shave. But tonight that can't be the case, you shave in the morning. What happened?"

"I, ah... I got the laser treatment you wanted."

"You did that because I wanted you too? What about what you want?"

"I want to keep you as my wife. I want our marriage to last. I want to grow old with you."

She stroked my chin. "You do know that laser treatments are permanent don't you?"

"Yes, from now on, I'll have a smooth face... just... just like a woman."

She snuggled up tight and gently rubbed my chest. I heard her sniff just a little. "I love you, you know," and she just rubbed my chest lightly until she fell asleep.

In the morning, I awoke with that damned dream fresh in my mind. It had been particularly intense. It was as if I was right there in the room watching my wife go at it with another woman. OH NO! Over my dead body. I'll do what ever it takes to keep that from happening. Still all the same, I was horny... very aroused by the damned dream. I thought about what I'd said to Erica the night before, and then thought, Just how far will I go to keep her?

Then she woke with a smile and began to seduce me. She was very amorous and added something new to our routine. As she snuggled, she unbuttoned my pajama top, just as I had hers in the past and kissed my chest as she slid a hand under the silk. Cupping the swollen area gently, sensuously, lovingly she repeatedly kissed them. When she got to my nipples, she spent some time licking and kissing them, finally sucking gently on them. I was amazed at how much I liked it. When all was said and done, after our romp, I fell back asleep with my pajama top unbuttoned with Erica's hand cupping the flabby flesh.

That scene was repeated three times the next week. She seduced me... I can't remember her ever doing that in the fifteen years we'd been married. Oh yeah, there had been times when she'd let me know that she was interested, but I'd always been the aggressor and she the willing victim. Now that she had something akin to breasts to play with, she was the aggressor. To my surprise, I liked it. I liked submitting to her desires. Who'd a thunk it?

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

It was time for another visit to the PA to monitor my reaction to the meds. On the way to my appointment, I thought about all that had transpired to since I talked to Erica about my breast enlargement. I particularly focused on her aggression in bed. The doggy style had come up about every other time; she liked me to lean really far in, so my chest touched her back and my hair her shoulders. Truth was, I like my chest touching her back because the movement of my chest over her back caused pleasurable sensations that made my climaxes more intense.

During the exam the PA was very thorough with the measurements. "Well, you're not quite an A cup, but close. It is causing you any trouble?"

"Ah, no, quite the contrary."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I had the conversation with my wife that you suggested last time. And, well, now that she knows that I realize that they're there and all... well she plays with them and well, she's aggressive in bed. So all in all, they're a positive."

She smiled, "I'm glad you took my advise. So she likes them? I can't say that I'm surprised. Joanne, my sister, told me that your wife confided in her, her problem and well, Joanne it family oriented and has been doing everything she can to coax you into becoming what your wife says she wants. She's convinced that the more feminine you become, the more likely your wife will stay with you. Your wife has told her about how she feels about the little things that she's been able to coax you into... all positive."

At first, I was incensed that Erica would say anything to Joanne, but then I thought that women traditionally talk to their hairdressers the way men talk to their bartenders and since I didn't have a bartender, I'd talked to the PA. Only I had an advantage. Bartenders usually didn't know the customers wife's hairdresser and the PA was bound to secrecy by medical ethics. I had an inside track and I made up my mind that I'd use it to my best advantage.

"Well, so Joanne said Erica is happy with my new hairstyle and the other things I've done that soften my look?" I couldn't bring myself to say, "feminize myself."

"Yeah, ah... but my advise, as a woman, is not to let your wife, Erica, know I told you that. It might not set too well. It's assumed that what a woman tells her hairdresser is confidential. I'm sure that if I hadn't asked Joanne direct questions, she'd never have said a thing."

I nodded and then unbidden out of my mouth came, "Ah, can you still give me that referral to a plastic surgeon?"

She looked at me blankly for a few seconds. "You mean for breast augmentation?"

I nodded again. I wanted to do it, but I didn't know if, when push came to shove, if I could. "Well, if the little ones have pleased her, then well, I guess I could at least talk about enhancing them some."

"Let me make a phone call."

Long story short, she did get through to a surgeon that did do breast augmentation on men just because they wanted it with or without a psychiatric letter. I couldn't get into see him for another six weeks. Seems he was busy. I had to believe that he did other things beside put boobs on men. He couldn't be that busy doing that. I mean, how many men could want boobs?

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

"So, I understand you would like to have breast implants," the doctor said.

"Ah, yeah, well, at least I want to explore the possibility."

"I see. Just how large would you like to go?"

"Not too big. Just enough so that when I wear something tight that it will be obvious or maybe so I could show a little cleavage if I were to unbutton my shirt a little."

"That's probably possible. Why don't you take off your shirt and let's see what we have to work with."

I stripped to the waist.

"It looks like you have a little gynecomastia already. I assume you want to go larger."

"Yeah, if you're going to have boobs, you might as well do it right, huh?" I laughed nervously.

He took some measurements and said, "You're almost an A cup now. I'd say that we could easily take you up to a C without any undue stretch marks showing."

"Well, a C would be a bit more than I was thinking of. I think a B would be plenty."

"You know that most men who opt for this procedure wish they had gone bigger after they get used to their breasts."

"Well, still, I think that I'd like to stay with a B."

"What say we compromise. I can use the implants that we use for men who want larger breasts then they have skin to accommodate. The way it works is I implant a receptacle for saline and fill it to, in your case, a B cup size. Later, after the skin has stretched, I then add more saline and enlarge what's there and repeat the procedure until the desired size is reached. In your case, when you decide that you want more, we just enlarge it."

"So, if I go for it, what's the procedure? I mean, how long will I be in the hospital?"

"Oh, it's an out patient thing. You come in, a couple of hours later, you go home. It's best if you have someone to drive you home."

"What if I don't, could I say, take a cab? When would I be able to drive again?"

"You would be fine, by the next morning. Isn't there someone who could come with you?"

"No, I don't have any friends that I'm willing to share this with. That's why I don't want to go too big. I want to be able to hide the boobs."

"OK, well, I could schedule you in say, six weeks."

Suddenly it was hard to breathe. I felt my heart rate pick up and there was a pounding in my ears.

"I'm still just thinking about it. Can I think about it and call you in a week or two?"

"If you're still not sure, then you should. I'll leave your name with my receptionist and when you call in she'll schedule the next available appointment."

I thanked the doctor for his time and he simply reminded me that I had paid for the office call already.

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

It was about this time, that Karen, our over achiever informed us that, because she had been accepted at Stanford she wanted to attend their summer program and get a leg up on her college career. Of course, Erica wasn't too pleased. Her baby was about to leave the nest. I can't say that I was too thrilled about it either. This meant that we had three less months to discover our solution to Erica's... I don't know... condition? And what it meant to our marriage... perhaps the demise of our marriage. Hell, I was sure that if I didn't pull a rabbit out of the hat, it would be just that.

Oh God! Please God show me what to do. I'm not ready to be a divorcé. If I can't be married to Erica, then what use is it to live? She's my life, my reason for living she has been since I first laid eyes on her all those years ago.

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

Spring Chinook were running they were in the southern coast streams and moving north, so that was my excuse for a week long fishing trip. I figured I'd need a week to recover and I was right. The doctor did a nice job. I was nervous as hell when I went in, but I was desperate and determined to try anything to keep Erica. In the end, I did leave the option open for larger breasts... if and when.

Well, my fishing vest hid things when I finally made it out to the streams. It had taken three days before I felt well enough to cast a fishing rod. But luck was with me and I came back with enough fish to make everyone believe I'd been at it for a full week... that is if I used the excuse that it took a couple of days to catch up with just where the run was. I missed Karen's leaving, but well, as noted before, I wasn't particularly close to the kids and I think that Erica really liked the exclusive mother daughter time as Karen got ready to go.

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

I brought the fish home and dropped them into the freeze without coming into the house first and washed up in the laundry tubs. Then I stuck my head in the door and told Erica I was heading for my appointment with Joanne.

"Hi," Joanne greeted me when I walked. She studied me a bit and said, "You look different some how. If didn't know better, I'd say you put on some weight, but that's not it. I'll figure it out. Well what can we do for you today?"

"I think I'm ready to take a big leap today."

"How so?"

"Well, you remember how you told me that my hair would look good with highlights? Well, I think today's the day... and, maybe we could try a style with some... you know..." I made some kind of sign that I hoped she interpret as "bangs." She just looked at me with a puzzled look. "Ah, maybe a more daring hairstyle."

"A more daring hairstyle," she said slowly and picked up a book of styles. "Maybe you'd like to show me what you have in mind," she continued as she handed me the book.

With trembling hands, I thumbed through the book and finally settled on something with some genuine bangs and a kind flip at the bottom. I know I'm not describing it well, I don't have the words, but well, it was girlie. I knew it; Joanne knew it. She did a good job of not showing it if she was happy about what I wanted, but I suspect she was. It was what she had been pushing me toward all along.

"You, ah, ... you really want this hairstyle?"

"Unless you could think of one that would be better suited to my face," I answered trying to say something... I don't' know... feminine I guess. That was going to be my life, if my plan worked I might just as well get used to being and saying things feminine.

"Well, I think I've got the idea. Why don't you leave it to me? I'll see if I can't work some magic."

"OK, I'll trust you to know what's needed."

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

"Jim! Is that you? Oh my God you look so different. What did Joanne do?"

I stood in the kitchen as Erica looked at me dumbfounded.

"I... well, Erica, I ... do you like it?

"Well, it's a very nice style, but I never thought you go for something like that. What made you do it."

"I wanted you to like it. You didn't say if you did."

"It's gorgeous Jim. Beautiful, even. Highlights, a gentle wave and a flip, it's... it's..."

"Feminine?" I finished for her.

"Ah, well, that's not the word I was looking for, but yes, it's feminine. Did you do that for me?"

"Yes. I need you and I hope this lets you know just how much," I said as I took off my shirt and let her see my breasts and bra though my T-shirt. "The hair kind of goes with the package."

She stepped forward slowly and tentatively touched me and cupped my breast with one hand. She threw her arms around me in a hug.

"You did that to keep me?"

"Yes," I mumble.

"The hair and boobs and everything?"

"Well, not everything. According to the people on the Internet, I'm a shemale. I don't think I could bring myself to alter that part."

"Oh Jim, I wouldn't want you to. You know with a little make up, and you'd be my dream lesbian lover."

"I don't have any idea how to put on make up."

"If, well... if you'd like, I could do it for you. You've done everything else I could ask for..."

"We could try, if you don't think I'd look ridiculous."

"Oh no sweetie, you won't look ridiculous. I'll see to that."

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

I stood in the bathroom unable to believe just where this all ended up. Erica gave me a diaphanous blue baby-doll pajama that barely covered my butt. My face was made up and with my breasts clearly visible under the thin material, I looked every inch a woman. What's more, I didn't understand how, but it turned me on. Maybe it was the anticipation of the sex with my wife, combined with the look of a woman sexily dressed in something clearly intended to arouse. This is the test of fire. If I can go out to there and be enough like a woman, maybe, just maybe, I can keep my wife. Oh dear Lord, let this work. God please let this work.