A Man Around the House

by Julie

A Man Around The House

By Julie


	I was born Theodora Jane Williamson.  Quite a handle, huh, but I 
went by T.J. (wouldn't you?).   I was named after my great grandmother 
on my father's side.  She was a neat old gal.  She lived to be 86 years 
old.  She and I were buddies before she passed away. I was her first 
great grandchild and she left her home to me in her will be because she 
knew I loved it.  

	The house was almost as old as she was.  As glad as I was for 
such a big house that I didn't owe any money on, the repairs were 
starting to get to me.  The plumbing was always going in one place or 
the other and the lights would flicker but I never lost power. However, I 
would never consider selling it to anyone.  I loved that old house.  
Grammy had lived there her entire married life.  It was big enough for 
her husband and herself and their five sons.  It had seen love and it had 
seen tragedy.  During World War II, three of her sons were killed in 
action at Pearl Harbor.  That was before the military changed the policy 
about more than one member of a family serving on the same ship.

	This particular day it was the yard work that was getting me 
down.  The yard covers just over an acre.  There were flowerbeds 
everywhere because Grammy loved to work in the garden.  It was her 
passion.  She won blue ribbons for her roses almost every year at the 
state fair.  I couldn't imagine the old house without them, but they were a 
bear to maintain.  I stand 5'3" and weigh 105 lbs., so the lawn mower is 
almost as heavy as I am.  Of course I have a riding mower, but I still 
have to use a push mower to get around the trees and flowerbeds.  I don't 
even want to think about the lily pond.  The lilies have to be thinned out 
periodically or the pond gets choked with them and becomes unsightly.

	I had already weeded the flowerbeds and done all the mowing I 
could with the riding lawn mower.  Debbie Chambers, my best friend, 
was coming over that evening so I called it quits earlier than usual. 

	Debbie comes over every Friday evening at 7:00 p.m.  
Sometimes we go out and get a burger and maybe a movie.  Sometimes 
we do 'girl stuff'.  I'll never forget the time I ended up with pink hair.  If 
I have a rush order for work, she'll help out with that also. 

	I worked out of my home selling special order teddy bears.  
Actually, I bought wholesale teddy bears and then customized the bear 
to the customer's needs.  For instance, one bear I finished was for a little 
girl who had broken her leg in a skiing accident.  She was going to be 
confined to bed for awhile so her parents ordered a bear with a broken 
leg.  He came with a cast and crutches.  I found that the sick or hurt kids 
wanted to take care of the bear the way they wanted to be cared for, but 
might not ask for.  By watching the child, the parents could help the 
child in little ways they might have not done otherwise.  I've even had 
some doctors recommend my bears.  Sometimes I made costumes for 
them based on a famous person.  My favorite was an 'Elvis' bear.  It was 
so cute.  I made a bit of money doing this, and since I didn't have a 
house payment, I got by. Once I set up a web page, I increased my sales 
about 40%.  That helped a lot.  I had some money set aside to cover the 
repairs on the house, but only if I did the work myself. 

Debbie showed up right on time.

	"Hi Deb," I said opening the door.  "What's new?"

	"Oh, not a lot.  You know, the usual."  She breezed in and never 
missed a beat.  "The yard looks great.  I have a feeling it's going to be 
take out tonight."

	"I would really appreciate it," I replied.  "The yard just about ate 
my lunch.  I am beat."

	"That's okay, how's about some pizza and TV?  We can watch 
videos, make popcorn and kick back and relax."

	Which is exactly what we did.  One large pizza and two hours of 
Brendan Fraser later, we were sitting around and talking.

	"You know T.J., what you need is a man around the house to do 
the yard work," Debbie expounded.  "If you had a man, he could do the 
yard, fix the pluming, re-shingle the roof, paint the house…"

	"That's not a man, " I interrupted laughing, "That's a slave.  What 
man is going to give me a second look once he knows what I have in 
mind for him to do."

	"You're right," Debbie continued. "Oh, but if you could find one 
that looked like Brendan Fraser, the house could fall around your ears 
and you wouldn't care."

	"Isn't that the truth!" I laughed.  "Actually, I wouldn't want the 
whole house to fall down.  I mean the bedroom needs to remain 
standing."

	Laughing, Debbie stood up.  "On that note, I think I'll head for 
home.  I tell you though, I thought we were going to lose power that one 
time.  How do you handle your computer going off every time it does 
that?  You do have a surge protector don't you?"

	"Oddly enough, I've never had the computer go off.  I keep 
meaning to get a surge protector, but it's one of those things that keeps 
getting moved to the bottom of the list.  I will one of these days though. 
Call me tomorrow, okay?"

	After seeing Debbie out, I went to my office.  It's not much, just 
one of the bedrooms that had been redone.  There is a desk with my 
computer on it.  Bookshelves along one wall have various computer 
manuals mixed in with some romances and some of my own teddy 
bears.  The desk belonged to my great grandfather; it is solid oak. I did 
splurge on my desk chair.  It is a high backed, maroon leather chair that 
swivels.  Is it ever comfortable!  Atop the filing cabinet is a photograph 
of Debbie and I taken at Six Flags over Texas.  The magazine rack is 
filled with McCall's, Good Housekeeping and an assortment of craft and 
sewing magazines, although I don't know when I'll have time to read 
them.  I'm a sucker for magazine sales people with a good story.

	I showered and got ready for bed.  I had put on an oversized T-
shirt that said, "When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping".  I 
lay down, but was restless so I decided to go to the computer for a few 
minutes.  

	Sitting down at the desk, I pulled up my web page. Most of my 
orders come online.  That makes it so much easier for me.  On this 
particular evening, there were no new orders.  Since I wasn't tired, I 
decided to do something I had never done before.  I was basically a shy 
person around people I didn't know so I'd never gone into a chat room.  
Debbie told me that if it made it easier, to pretend I was someone else.  
She told me about the fun she has and even explained some of the "chat 
lingo".   So I decided to give it a try.  I joined a chat in progress in the 
'Singles' room.  At first I just watched.  Then, 

	TERMINATOR:  hi T.J. m/f

	Why not I thought to myself?

	T.J.:  Male - 6'4" - I look like Brendan Fraser only with a 
mustache.
. 
	TERMINATOR: cool - ive seen george of the jungle – bet you 
get a lot of girls :)

	T.J.: LOL only need one - Debbie.  (Wait till I tell Debbie.  She'll 
get a kick out of this.)

	TERMINATOR:  what do you do 

	T.J.:  I own my own landscaping company.  You?

	TERMINATOR: i'm in 7th grade

	T.J.:    You know a lot about computers?

	TERMINATOR:  yea, they're neat - what do you do for fun

	T.J.: I lift weights.  What about you?

	TERMINATOR:  skateboard - i gotta go -  talk to you later 'k

	T.J.:  Take it easy 

	That went okay for the first time.  A kid!  I thought I was talking 
to an adult.  I guess you can be anyone you want to be and no one can 
tell if you're less than honest.  It was late so I signed off.  Suddenly I felt 
dizzy.  I guess I got more sun than I realized earlier.  I sat there with my 
eyes closed until the dizziness passed.  When it did, I reached for the 
mouse and OH MY GOD!  My hand and arm were not MY hand and 
arm.  My nails, which were normally mid-length and polished a pale 
pink, were short, unpolished and had rough edges.  My hands were 
larger and blunter and there was dark hair over my arms.  Glancing 
further down, I nearly had a heart attack.  Gone was the "Tough go 
shopping" shirt.  All that was there was a bare chest and a pair of jockey 
shorts.  And what a chest it was!

	I jumped up and ran to the bedroom.  I had Grammy's stand 
alone, full-length mirror in one corner.  There were a couple of shirts I 
didn't recognize tossed over the top.  Throwing the shirts to one side, I 
looked into the mirror.  I didn't know who that was looking back at me 
from the mirror, I just knew it wasn't me.  The man in the mirror, (and 
he was definitely all-male) was tall and muscular.  Wearing only jockey 
shorts, I could see every muscle.  He was vaguely familiar looking.  He 
had medium brown, slightly wavy hair and a full mustache.  At any 
other time I would have loved to look at this man, but right now all I 
wanted to do was cry.  The thought immediately following that one was 
that men don't cry.  

	I had to cover that body.  It was distracting me and I had to think.  
I ran to the closet to get my robe or something, and I realized the clothes 
in the closet weren't mine, at least not the clothes that were hanging in 
my closet 30 minutes ago.  These clothes would fit the man I saw in the 
mirror.  Part of me was still refusing to admit the guy in the mirror was 
me.  Grabbing a terry cloth robe that barely covered my thighs, I went 
downstairs to the living room.  

I wanted to get my purse. My purse was not on the table where I 
always left it; instead there was a wallet.  As I picked it up and looked in 
it, I felt as if I was looking at a stranger's belongings.  I grabbed the 
driver's license to check the name: Theodore James Williamson!  I had 
to think!  How did this happen?  I looked around franticly as if searching 
for something or someone to tell me what was going on. Then I noticed 
some fliers on the table.  They read:

T.J.'s Landscaping Service

Landscaping and Lawn Care
Flowerbed Plotting
Shrub Design

555-1212

That was it!  It was what I had typed in on the computer! I 
realized why the man in the mirror looked familiar.  He looked like 
Brendan Fraser.  I was just like I had described myself in the chat room.  
When I signed off I had gotten dizzy.  That must have been when 
everything changed.  I rushed back upstairs to the computer and signed 
back online.  There was no one in the chat room I had been in earlier so I 
went to the next one on the list that had several people in it.

(I was praying this would work.)

SARA303:  Welcome T.J.

JENNY1779:  hi T.J.  first time in this room?

T.J.:  Yes, I'm new at this.

SARAH303:  Would you like to tell us about yourself?

(Thank you, God.)

T.J.:  I'm female, 5'3", 105 lbs. and I make custom teddy bears 
for a living.  I didn't notice what this particular room was.

JENNI1779:  This is an alternate lifestyle room.

T.J.:  Sorry, wrong room. 

Signing off, I held my breath.  A wave of dizziness came over 
me.  I closed my eyes real tight and waited for it to pass.  Slowly 
opening one eye, I looked at my hands.  I released the breath I was 
holding with a sigh.  My hands were back to normal.  I ran to the mirror 
in the bedroom.  Everything looked like it was back to normal.  Just to 
be on the safe side, I went to the living room and there was my purse.  
My driver's license had my name on it.  There were no flyers on the 
table.  I was back to normal.  The rush of relief left me feeling drained.  I 
went to bed and as tired as I was, my mind kept racing. Here was my 
chance to have a 'man' around the house.  It worked once, why not again. 
Even though I decided to sleep on the idea, I was pretty sure I was going 
to try it again.

The next morning found me sitting at the computer.  After a 
quick trip to chat room, the 'male' me got up and decided to look around.  
Now that I wasn't in a panic, I began to notice some subtle changes.  The 
furniture was still Grammy's.  My desk chair was slightly different 
though.  Instead of maroon leather, it was black.  There were no teddy 
bears around, needless to say.  There was a baseball glove on one shelf 
and an autographed baseball on another.  The books in the shelves were 
a mixture of science fiction and thrillers; not a romance to be seen.  
There were Sports Illustrated magazines in the rack.  Atop the filing 
cabinet was a picture of the 'male' me and Debbie at a Ranger game.  I 
was glad to see I was still friends with Debbie.

Just for kicks, I looked to see what web sites were bookmarked 
in this life.  I noticed that even in this life 'Victoria's Secrets' was still a 
favorite.  I didn't think I looked at that site for the same reason though.  
There was one call 'Fictionmania' which seemed to have a lot of stories.  
There was a 'Fantasy Baseball' site and several concerning gardening 
and lawn care.  
  
Walking down the hall, I looked into what used to be my sewing 
room where I did all the work on the teddy bears.   For someone who 
never exercised very much, the room looked like a torture chamber.  
There were weights and benches, a stationary bike and a treadmill.  
Judging by what I had seen in the mirror last night, I used these quite a 
bit.  Curious, I walked over to one bench and lifted the weights next to 
it.  I could lift my old weight without breaking a sweat.  I found myself 
doing several reps without even thinking.  Afterwards I felt exhilarated.  
I decided when I went back to my old life I would start some kind of 
exercise program because I really liked how I felt.  Right now though, I 
was going to do the yard work I wanted to get done.

Wearing a cutoff pair of blue jeans and a pair of worn Nikes, I 
headed outside.  Judging by the tan lines on this body, that was my usual 
attire.  Several hours later, I decided to take a break.  I had finished the 
mowing around the flowerbeds, edged the driveway and sidewalk, 
fertilized and used the weed-eater to clear out the longer grass next to 
the fence line.  The equipment I used was different.  They were newer 
and more powerful yet I handled them with ease.  That made sense since 
doing this was my livelihood.  I was surprised how quickly I 
accomplished jobs that would normally take me several days.

In the house, I went to the 'fridge to get some water to cool off.  
There were no bottles of water like I usually kept.  There was however 
several bottles of beer.  I was hot and the beer was cold so I grabbed 
one.  Boy, did it taste good!  Now I was hungry.  I had worked up an 
appetite.  Gone, of course were my yogurts.  After checking the 
cupboards and the fridge, I decided on two chili-cheese dogs complete 
with mustard, onions and relish washed down by a second beer. 

I began to feel a familiar pressure and headed to the bathroom.  
As I unzipped my shorts, I realized this was going to be a little different 
from what I was used to.  Standing, I relieved myself.  As I went to put 
everything back where it belonged, I found I enjoyed the feelings that 
came when I accidentally stroked myself.  This was an area where I did 
not want to go.  I was a female no matter what I looked like on the 
outside.  I decided the less time spent in this body, the better off I would 
be.  After all, I was happy being a woman.

 With that decided, I decided to tackle the lily pond. By the time 
the sun went down, I had finished all the chores I had to do in the yard.  
Not only had I finished, but also it looked better that it ever had before, 
more professional.  I couldn't help but wonder if people who do this for 
a living have trouble making ends meet during the winter.

I went into the house, signed onto a chat room and changed back 
into myself.  All of a sudden, I wondered whether the yard work 
disappeared with my male body or whether it looked as if the female me 
had done it.  I ran outside, almost afraid my day's work had vanished.  
Fortunately, it looked just as my 'male' self had left it.  Another thing 
that hadn't disappeared was my sweaty, dirty body.  I looked (and 
smelled) as if this body had worked out in the heat all day.  Oh well, you 
take the bad with the great.  I jumped into the shower and when I got 
out, I felt great.  I may have looked as if I had done the work, but my 
muscles were not sore nor was I as tired as I usually was after doing the 
lawn.

I noticed the message light was blinking on my answering 
machine so I checked it.

"T.J. it's Debbie.  My mom fell and sprained her ankle so I'm 
flying out to Denver to help my Dad out till she can get up and around.  
I'll be gone about a week, so I'll call you when I get back.  Bye."

"Rats!"  I was going to have to wait before I could tell Debbie 
about my other self.  Her being gone would give me more time to 
surprise her by fixing things up.


The next morning was Sunday. I decided to take the day off and 
plan on what I wanted to do. I decided to make a list of things that 
needed doing around the house.  There was the leaky faucets in the 
kitchen, shingle the roof, fix the loose rail on the banister, find out why 
the lights kept flickering, build a barbecue pit and paint the exterior.  I 
would need to be a plumber, a roofer, a carpenter, an electrician, a 
mason and a painter.  I had decided to start with the barbecue pit because 
I liked the sound of a cookout.  I drew out a plan of what I wanted it to 
look like.

Monday morning, after a quick trip to a chat room, I was ready to 
lay brick.  Out of habit, I checked my calendar software.  I'm glad I did 
because I noticed I had a job scheduled that morning, a bricklaying job. 
Mrs. Finley, who lived across the street, had a brick fence that had a 
damaged area ever since the last ice storm, when a car slid out of control 
and knocked a section of it down.

  She's a sweet old lady, and whenever I asked when she was 
going to get it fixed, she would reply, "You know I can't trust just 
anybody.  I watch on TV where con artists are ripping off all these older 
folks.  When I find the right person, I'll know.  Then I'll get it fixed."

Well, since she apparently trusted me, I wasn't going to let her 
down.  Besides, the money would help pay for the pit I wanted to put in 
the back yard.  I decided there and then, to do any jobs that were lined 
up.  I went downstairs to the garage, and there was a truck with the same 
color brick as Mrs. Finley's fence.  It was loaded and ready to go.  The 
mixer for the mortar was being towed behind.  I drove over there, mixed 
my mortar and got to work.  When I was almost completed, Mrs. Finley 
came out with some ice-cold lemonade and some chocolate chip 
cookies.

"Well T.J., you're doing a fine job.  Can you take a little break?" 
she asked, offering me a glass.  "I don't know why I waited so long to 
ask you to fix this fence."

"I think the timing had to be right," I replied, drinking most of 
the lemonade.  I couldn't have fixed the fence as the old T.J.

"Here, have a cookie.  It was Theodora's recipe.  I used to go 
over and eat these when I was dating her middle son, Jake.  Broke my 
heart when he died.  Guess it was just as well, I wouldn't have given Mr. 
Finley a look if Jake had still been around."  At that she giggled.  "You 
look like him, you know."

"No, I didn't realize that," I commented.  "Thank you for the 
cookies and drink, but I have to get back to work before my mortar sets."  
She would have gone on and on.  Like I said a sweet lady.  She took the 
hint and I finished the job. It only took me three hours

As I drove back to the house, I thought how I would get a good 
feeling now, every time I looked at that fence.  Don't get me wrong, I 
loved doing my teddy bears, but I didn't get to see them once I shipped 
them off.  This had given me a sense of satisfaction that went beyond 
what I had felt with my bears.

Since I had gotten an early start, I still had plenty of time to 
finish the pit before I called it a night.  I was glad I had done this chore 
first.  I had the rest of the week for the mortar to cure before the 
weekend.  I know Debbie would like to come over for the cookout on 
Saturday if she is back in town by then, I thought. 

Changing back into the real me, I, again, felt quite good.  It was 
almost as if my smaller body was charged with all the energy of my 
larger one.  I really liked the way I felt as well as having the sense of 
accomplishment I had from the day's work.  Looking at my list of 
chores, I decided to paint the house next.  That would take the longest of 
any other item except possibly finding out what was causing the lights to 
flicker.  It would sure be nice to have it done before Debbie got back.  I 
could just imagine the look on her face when she saw all I had 
accomplished.

The next morning, as T.J., the house painter, I left the computer 
room and went to the garage to find everything I needed to paint the 
house.  The paint for the house itself was a very pale, almost white, 
golden shade of tan.  For the trim, there was a dark copper. The whole 
effect was to give the house a warm feeling.  The last coat of paint 
wasn't cracking or peeling, yet it had faded badly in some areas.  That 
was the main reason to repaint.  This time the proper paint would be 
used.

Getting the ladder, (since you start at the top and work down) I 
began the immense task.  I remember thinking, as I climbed up that I 
hated heights.  Using a paint sprayer, I was able to apply two coats and 
complete the job by Friday afternoon.
	
	After finishing painting the house I jumped into the shower.  The 
hot water coursing over my body felt wonderful.  I had always liked a 
hot bath before yet this was just as relaxing.  I had always changed back 
into the 'female' me when a job was done.  This was the first time I 
hadn't.  Soaping my body, I found my nipples getting hard.  Reaching 
lower, I realized they weren't the only things getting hard.  I had admired 
this body in the mirror, yet I had never taken the time to explore it.  I 
couldn't seem to remember what my reasons were for not doing so.  All 
of a sudden, the shower door opened and Debbie, minus her clothes, 
stepped in.  

	"Oh babe, I missed you," she said as she reached for my 
manhood. "Here let me help you with that."  She began to lovingly 
stroke up and down.

	This was Debbie!  I was overwhelmed by the feelings she was 
generating.  I had never had thoughts like this about her and right now I 
was having trouble thinking about anything else. I had never stopped to 
think what part Debbie would play in my 'male' life.

	"I'm glad to see you missed me," she purred.  "I know I missed 
you while I was taking care of Mom and Dad, but enough talk."  She 
slowly lowered herself to her knees and began to kiss and lick my 
member.  Her lips encircled the rosy head and then caressed the length 
of my staff.   Sucking gently, she proceeded to drive me out of my mind.

	I wanted to be inside her.  It was as if my body had memories I 
was unaware of.  Reaching down, I pulled her up beside me and began 
to kiss those same lips that moments ago were giving me so much 
pleasure. Turning her around, I began to lightly kiss the back of her 
neck, caressing her with my mustache.  She quivered in my arms.  I 
reached around to her perfect breasts and filled my hands with their 
bounty.  I had never realized how lush her breasts were.  Picking her up, 
I carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed.

	With an evil grin, I said, "Turn about is fair play." I had 'inside' 
information as to what would please a woman and I called all of it into 
play.  I began kissing her nipples, my mustache brushing the pearly 
mounds.  Slowly I worked my way down, kissing and nibbling.  Lifting 
one of her legs, I kissed the inside of her knee.  With a flick of my 
tongue, I moved lower to the heart of her womanhood.  Lifting her legs 
over my shoulders, I nuzzled her heat.  While my tongue danced around 
the nubbin that was the center of her pleasure, first one then two of my 
fingers penetrated her warm sheath.  Debbie was writhing on the bed, 
her fists clenching and releasing the sheets, her head rocking side to 
side.  As I felt the beginnings of her climax, I lifted up and then entered 
her, sinking my full, substantial length into her tight, welcoming well.  
Debbie stiffened as the climax overtook her.  The feelings were 
incredible.  Knowing what a woman's orgasm felt like only intensified 
my pleasure.  As I repeatedly entered and withdrew, I felt a pressure 
building within myself.  Debbie had recovered and desire was rebuilding 
within her.  Deeper and deeper slow then faster, I plunged into her 
depths.  Stiffening, I felt the explosion of release as I poured forth my 
seed at the same time Debbie achieved her second orgasm.  Relaxing, I 
moved to the side and took Debbie into my arms.

	"Where did you learn to do that!?!" she asked.  "It was 
incredible.  That was the absolute best it has ever been."

	Laughing, I replied, "Would you believe in a chat room?"

	"Well by all means, keep chatting!" she said, kissing my neck. 
"By the way, how did you get paint behind your ear?"

	With that, we both went back to the shower to...ah...clean up.

	The next morning, Debbie and I cooked breakfast together.  She 
was right at home, walking around in one of my shirts.  I was at a loss; I 
didn't know what to think.  It was just like after a sleep over, only we 
hadn't gotten much sleep. 

	"Honey, the house looks great!" she said putting the food on the 
table.  "You got so much done while I was gone."

	"I think the next job is going to be the staircase banister," I 
replied as I set down to eat."  I explained what else I wanted to do to the 
house while we ate.

	"You need to do something about these flickering lights, but 
that's going to take a master electrician to find out what the problem is," 
Debbie commented as she rinsed the pans out.  "Oops! Looks like a 
plumber should be next on the list.  The water doesn't seem to be 
draining anymore.  I know it drained slow, but it seems to have stopped 
altogether."

	I checked the bathroom and noticed water backing up in the tub.

	"Give me a couple of minutes and I'll get right on it," I said as I 
ran up the stairs.   

	"You?  But you don't know how…" Debbie's words faded away 
as I went up the stairs.

	I went to the computer and T.J. the house painter became T.J. the 
master plumber.  I headed to the garage/workshop to get my tools.  As I 
passed Debbie, I asked, "What were you saying?

	"Umm…I think it was…oh yeah, you don't know how much it 
aggravates me that you have to do this on 'our' day," she replied.

	"Well, let me see what's wrong.  Maybe it won't take long to fix.  
We may still have our day together."  

	Before too long I had determined the problem was between the 
house and the street so it was my problem, not the city's.

	"I'm sorry, babe.  This is going to take a while.  I've got to get a 
backhoe and do some digging."

	Calling a number that was in my Rolodex, I determined that a 
backhoe was available to rent.  According to my computer, T.J., the 
plumber, had done business with this rental place before and they had 
my certification to operate the hoe on file.  Driving out to the rental place 
I was bemused by all the knowledge bouncing around my head.  After I 
hooked the trailer with the hoe to my truck, I headed for home.

	Climbing upon the backhoe, I drove it off the trailer and 
positioned it over the area where the sewer line was.  After I set the 
supports, I began digging.  Oh, the feeling of power I had operating that 
machinery.  Before long, I had a trench several yards long.  Jumping 
down, I looked and saw the problem.  At some time someone had used 
galvanized steel for the sewer line and it had rusted through and now 
needed to be replaced.  

	By the time I had finished filling the trench back in the sun was 
setting.  I was covered from the waist down with mud.  Yuck!   I had the 
same feeling of pride when I finished as I had the other jobs, yet being 
coated in mud and God knows what else put a damper on those feelings.

	Debbie had gone home after lunch when she found out I was 
going to be tied up all day.  I went straight to the shower and scrubbed 
myself at least three times.  Now I understand why plumbers make so 
much money.  No one else wants to do the dirty work.  After the shower, 
I went ahead and fixed the leaky faucets in the kitchen.  While I had been 
picking up the pipe I needed to do the repairs, I also picked up a garbage 
disposal.  I installed it at this time.  I quickly checked the plumbing in 
the rest of the house because once I changed, I didn't want to go back to 
being a plumber.  It was after midnight before the real me fell into bed.

	The next day, T.J. the landscaper, leveled the ground over the 
new sewer line and placed sod in the bare areas.  After watering heavily, 
the yard looked almost as if it hadn't been torn up. Within a few weeks, 
you wouldn't be able to tell at all.

	I thought about taking some time off and relaxing, but I saw my 
goal for having the house finished closer than I had thought possible.  I 
was also afraid I would get too used to being a guy.  I was becoming 
very comfortable as a guy and that bothered me.  I still thought of myself 
as a woman, yet I was enjoying the strength that I had as a man.  I was 
still trying to figure out what my feelings were about Debbie.  She and I 
had been friends since the third grade.  We knew everything there was to 
know about each other.  As a matter of fact, we even had our monthly 
periods at about the same time.  Now I knew what sex was like with her.  
I don't think I can tell her that though. I don't know if I can tell her any of 
it now.  She'll ask for details and she knows me well enough to tell when 
I'm holding something back.  

	Because of all the thoughts jumbled in my head, when I went to 
the computer to change into a carpenter, I made a few other changes.  I 
stopped into the 'Short Skirts at Work' chat room.

	SANNYGAL:  Hi T.J.  M/F

	T.J.:  Female…I'm 5'11" but I don't get to wear short skirts to 
work.

	SANNYGAL: Why not?

	T.J.:  I'm a finish carpenter.  Jeans and T-shirts are my work 
wardrobe.  I do wear the skirts on the weekends though.

	SANNYGAL:  lol…I don't know that that's so bad, not having to 
mess with pantyhose everyday.  Is what you do hard work?

	T.J.:  Not for me.   Since I am a tall girl I can handle the tools 
okay.  Actually it has helped me tone my body.  I need that upper body 
strength you know. 

	T.J.:  Well, I have to go…duty calls.  Have a good day.

	SANNYGAL:  B'bye.

	The first thing I did was check myself out in the mirror.  I was 
still me, just taller and firmer.  I was very pleased with the way I looked.  
I was going to have to give very serious thought about whether I was 
going to keep this body after all the work was done.  

	I went to the garage, which seemed to change as much as I did, if 
not more.  Whatever career I said I had, the necessary tools were always 
out there.  Sometimes the material for the job was also.  This time the 
garage was a workshop with various drills, saws and lathes.  Lumber was 
stacked against one wall.  I got what I needed to repair the loose rail and 
went back inside.

	The work went quickly.  I was amazed.  In the past when I had 
tried to hammer a nail, I had to use a dozen or so blows and then it bent.  
Most nails I had used were bent over and ugly, but if it held together, 
that's all that mattered.  These nails were going in with a couple of blows 
and they were straight.  The banister looked great when I was done.  I 
noticed a step was warping so I replaced it in a fairly short amount of 
time.  With a little stain, it fit right in.  

	There was only one job left: the flickering lights.  They had 
flickered intermittently ever since the house had been hit by lightning 
four years ago.  They never caused a problem.  They were really only an 
irritation.  I decided to do the job as a man and stay a man till the job was 
done.  It wasn't because I wanted to be a guy, but my period was due and 
I was hoping to be able to skip it this month.  So I became a master 
electrician.

	As I started to look around, I realized this was going to be quite a 
job.  There was aluminum wiring in one section of the house.  I don't 
know how it managed to go this long without being replaced.  They did 
away with aluminum wiring because it turned out to be a fire hazard.  As 
long as I was going to rewire that one section, I might as well rewire the 
rest. I had been working for about a week and a half when I found what 
was causing the flickering.  Apparently when the lightning struck it had 
fused several wires together.  I nearly had a heart attack when I saw the 
condition of those wires.  The fact they hadn't caused a fire was a 
miracle.  I can't even tell you why the power still coursed through them. 
If I had known the bad shape they were in, this would have been my first 
job instead of my last. 

	I finally finished rewiring the house after about four weeks.  
During the day, I would keep my 'electrician's' business going and work 
on the house in my off hours.  Debbie would come over occasionally and 
stay to make sure I was having enough fun.  As I sat down at the 
computer, I was glad I was going to go back to my old life.  I joined in 
the 'Stocking and Heels' chat room.  I decided to be the real me.  It didn't 
take long.

	KENNETH875:  T.J., m/f?

	T.J.:  female, 5'3", 105 lbs. - I make teddy bears for a living.

	KENNETH875:  married?

	T.J.:  nope, and not looking.

	KENNETH875:  ok

	Having entered my information, I signed off and waited.  Nothing 
happened!  There was no dizzy spell, no changes of any kind!  I signed 
back on to a different chat room and tried again.  Still nothing!  What 
was I doing wrong?  Had I stayed too long in the male body?  Was that 
it?  I went to each of the chat rooms that I had made changes in and tried 
every one.  Nothing seemed to work.  What was different this time?  I 
got up and paced around the house.

	"Think…think…what's different?" I said as I paced.  "I haven't 
changed anything.  How can I figure out why it doesn't work, when I 
don't know how it worked in the first place?  It's the same computer; 
nothing's changed. It hasn't been moved. It's plugged into the same 
outlet.  I didn't change the voltage when I rewired.  Rewired!  The fused 
wires I replaced were in a junction box that fed into this room.  That has 
to be it!"  I came to a dead stop.  "If that's it, then there's no going back.  
I'm stuck.  I'm going to be a man the rest of my life.  No! There has to be 
another answer."

	For the next hour and a half, I considered and discarded possible 
reasons for not being able to change back.  Finally, I accepted the truth.  
It was the rewiring.  I can't say I wish I hadn't done it because it was a 
fire waiting to happen.  I might not have awakened one morning and that 
would really have ruined my day.  I guess it could be worse.  I could be 
stuck as a plumber.  I shuddered at the thought.  I did enjoy doing 
electrical work and the pay is good.  I just didn't know where I wanted 
my life to go now.  I mean, as a woman, I knew what I wanted - a 
husband, a few kids, but as a man?  Things were different now.  Just then 
I heard the front bell.

	When I opened the front door, Debbie was on the porch.

	"Hi, forget your key?" I asked as she came in.

	She walked into the living room without saying a word.

	"Debbie, what's wrong?" I was concerned because she seemed on 
the verge of tears.

	"T.J., I'm sorry," she began.   "I didn't mean for it to happen.  I 
mean I didn't plan…"

	"Honey, what is it?"

	"I'm pregnant.  You know me; I'm as regular as clockwork.  
When I was two weeks late I thought it must have been the stress of 
taking care of Mom and Dad.  After three weeks, I made a doctor's 
appointment.  He did a blood test and I got the results today.  I think it 
happened the night I came back from Denver."

	I was shocked!  My best friend was pregnant and by me!  Now 
what?

	"T.J. say something," she pleaded.

	"I'm just trying to decide if I want to go down on my left knee or 
my right knee when I ask you to marry me."  Maybe my goals for my life 
hadn't changed that much.

	Debbie burst out in tears.  "You don't think I tried to trap you, do 
you?"

	Enfolding her in my arms, I told her, "I think we were meant to 
be together.  And no I don't think you tried to trap me.  I know you too 
well to even begin to think that.  One of these days, I'll tell you 
everything that has happened that makes me feel that way.  By the way, I 
do love you." Thinking about it, I always had.

	That was 40 years, four kids and seven grandkids ago.  Through 
the years, I finally convinced Debbie of what happened.  I told her what 
her childhood was like with a girl friend and she told me what it was like 
with a boy friend.  All that really matters is that we are 'best' friends.

Copyright © 1999, 2000 by Julie. All rights reserved.
Email comments to Bashful526@aol.com.

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