Chapter 2: A Perfect Life

There’s no better feeling than waking up in lacy pink panties and a bra with a butt plug up your ass, and your perfect boyfriend sleeping next to you in bed. Not every boyfriend would be cool with his boyfriend having a fetish for girl underwear but Scott has never been anything but accepting. Nothing makes me feel sluttier than dressing up in feminine clothes while we have sex. It would be a lie to tell you I don’t wear them during non sexy times either. Something about women’s clothes makes me feel nice and warm inside. Scott has asked on several occasions if it’s a sign I might want to be a girl. He has suspicions that my discomfort with my body and my envy for women may mean something. I always assure him it’s just a fetish, but he always makes sure to let me know he’d still love and accept me no matter what. He makes me feel safe, and loved no matter what. I often wish I was trans, but a real trans person wouldn’t be sexually aroused by such ideas. It makes me feel like a gross creepy man thinking about it, and as a result I often hit new lows after amazing nights like last night. There is no worse feeling than getting an erection in the morning wearing women’s clothes, and suddenly feeling painfully aware of your sex. The amount of empty space in my frilly bra, my flat chest, a body alien to me. In the moment, when making love and being loved I feel a different person. I feel like me when making passionate love with my partner. The surge of hormones and adrenaline helps distract from my complete bodily disconnect. I can imagine I’m his girl, and he’s my man. When the afterglow leaves however, here I constantly find myself in a fetal position having a panic attack.

 

“Mmm hey L, How’re you doing hun?” Scott asks, rolling over and kissing me on the forehead.

“Sorry, I’m not feeling to well right now Scott…” I say, shying away from his affection.

“Oh, are you Okay? Was I too rough last night?” Scott asks, sitting up some.

“No, it’s just… my body you know.”

“Aw, I’m sorry babe. Want me to make some breakfast, and get you a water?”

“Yes, please.” I say, as he crawls out of bed.

Scott is one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen. His toned pert asscheeks, his strong powerful thighs, his toned abs, not to mention his mighty spear that rearranges my organs on a nightly basis. He is also one of very few men I have ever dated taller than me. He is always the big spoon, and it’s a heavenly feeling, allowing myself to be small and sheltered and embraced by him. He’s also so kind and sweet, and always knows what I need. I don’t at all deserve him. I don’t really understand what he sees in me. I’m a painfully awkward bean stalk with poor hygiene. I have gross hairy legs and patchy facial hair. He makes hairy legs cool and sexy, while I look like bigfoot, despite shaving regularly. My under eye bags are a void that could swallow souls, and my mental health is utter garbage. I’m constantly depressed and anxious, and I’m just some poor college drop out. He on the other hand is a medtech, a bisexual icon, an utter chad. He could have any man woman or person he could possibly want. Despite it all though, he chose me. He even wants to start a family with me settle down, live the domestic life. I’m not sure I’m ready for all of that but simply looking into his eyes gives me strength and courage. He is the reason I get out of bed in the morning I couldn’t ask for anything better, and yet I feel a hole in my life. How ungrateful is that? I have everything I could ever want and more and I still want more. I feel incomplete even with him in my life. My therapist insists it’s not the healthiest that I rely on him so much. She worries about me forming an unhealthy codependent relationship. He doesn’t deserve that from me for sure. Stripping down my underwear I throw on my depression hoodie and skinny jeans. I can’t stay in bed all day, especially not while my sexy ass hunk of a boyfriend is making eggs and bacon for me.

“That smells amazing Scott” I say, stumbling out of the room, my knees still weak and wobbly. 

 

“Thanks L, you know I make a damn good omelet” He chuckles.

His smile is the most infectious thing on earth.

 

“I’m headed over to work soon, but Janette is coming over soon with the results from the insemination.” He says, sliding the folded greasy egg wrapped bacon onto the plates.

Ugh, Jan. She was who we chose to be our surrogate, I trust her but a part of me always feels inferior around her. She used to be Scott’s girlfriend. They ended on really good terms and have remained friends. Even though their relationship is long since over and I know there aren’t any feelings between them anymore I can’t help but compare myself to her. She’s an utter bombshell with long red hair I would kill for. She is everything I wish I could be, and now she gets to carry our baby. Nothing would make me happier to be our child’s mother. Childbirth is an early intimacy with a child men will never get to have. I can’t help but think if I weren’t in the picture Scott and Jan would have a perfect little family together. Scott and her would both be better without the depressed dumpster fire gremlin.

“Scott, do you really think we are ready?” I ask, scraping the plaster absent mindedly with my fork. “ I know we’ve talked about this but…”

 

“You still want this right?”

 

“Of course! I want to be a parent just as bad as you… I mean I think we both hope to do better than our parents and raise a kid in a fun safe accepting environment. I just worry is all I guess…”

“Yeah, I get that… but you know I earn enough to support all three of us, and we have a nice stable home environment. I know what you’re really asking though. You’ve been in therapy for almost 2 years now, and you’ll make the best cutest mom of all time. A real milf” He says, making his way around the counter as he talks to sneak a kiss on my cheek.

 

“Sh- shut uuuuppp!” I say, blushing as he teases me.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door, rudely interrupting quality boyfriend hugs time.

“Alright I’ll get it.” I say, escaping Scott’s bear hug,

“Hello Jan. Come on in” I say, opening the door.

“Hey Logan! I brought muffins.”

Another reason I am not Jan’s biggest fan. She always calls me by my full name. 10/10 worst name, there’s a reason I insist everyone calls me L. 

 

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“Uh oh, muffins? You’re trying to butter us up aren’t you? Did something go wrong?” Scott asks, as Jan places the basket on the kitchen counter by the door.

“You know the rule bro. Hugs first revelations later.” She says, giving Scott and I a hug in that order.

“Okay, alright. How’ve you been Jan? I just made breakfast, do you want any?” Scott asks, guiding the three of us to the living room.

“No thanks, I already ate. I got a promotion though! Corner office bi-atch!”

“Yo, about damn time! Congrats!”

“ Is the pay any different?” I ask, biting into a pistachio muffin.

“Yeah I got a raise babey! Plus I got a ton of PTO.”

 

“That’s pretty cool.” I say “ I wish i wasn’t stuck in the stock room everyday. Customer service sucks ass.”

“Oh, tell me about it. I do NOT miss it.” Scott says, having Vietnam flashbacks to his time at Starbucks in uni.

 

“Okay, I can’t hold it in any more what's the news!” I ask sitting up on my knees.”

 

“Yeah, we’re dying over here Jan, spill.”

“Weeeeell, I took the pregnancy test aaaand.” she says, pulling the test out of her purse covering the results with her thumb.

You could feel the room suck in a breath. It was our second time trying, and the insemination procedure is not a cheap expense.

“I’m pregnant!!!” She says, moving her finger dramatically revealing two lines.

“Oh thank god.” I say, exhaling and deflating into the couch.

“YAY! I’m so glad.” Scott says. “How dare you keep us in suspense like that bitch!”

“Lol, you know I’m a fan of theatrics Scott. Sales is just persuasive entertainment anyway.”

 

“C- can I hold it?” I ask.

“Uh, sure.” She says passing the test.

I can’t believe it, two lines! Should we frame this? What if it’s a false positive? What if its not! Oh god what if I’m really not ready? What if the baby inherits my mental illness? Am I hallucinating? Is this a dream? Holding it up to the light as if that would change anything I stare in awe and horror.

“You know I peed on that right?”

 

“Oh, right. Ew.” I say suddenly quick to put it down.

 

“I’m just kidding I washed it goof ball. My first big appointment should be in about 8 weeks, but I’m meeting with the fertility clinic next week.”

“Does this mean you get to stop taking the estrace?” Scott asks.

“Not until week 8, then I’ll probably start on different prenatal vitamins as well.”

“Can you feel it?” I ask.

“If you’re asking if I feel kicking or something, that's not until waaay later. But I definitely feel bloated and nauseous, oof.”

 

“I can’t believe we’re going to have a kid!” I beam at Scott.

“I know right!?!?!? Are you going to get maternity leave? Do you know yet?” Scott asks

“No word yet, but I have good benefits, and a nice insurance plan at least. Anyway I have to go. just wanted to share the news in person.”

“I’m so glad you did! Free muffins and a baby!” I blurt out like an idiot.

“You crack me up Logan.” She laughs as she gets up off the couch.

 

“Woah, you’re not leaving without a hug are you?” Scott asks, stopping her at the door.

“Alright, I gotta hurry though I can’t miss my meeting.” She says, giving Scott and I a hug.

“I can never thank you enough for agreeing to do this Jan talk to you later.” Scott says to his friend as the ray of sunshine walks out the door.

“AAAAAAAAAAEEEEEE!!! We have a baby!” I scream, jumping into Scott’s arms.

“We have a baby!” He enthusiastically agreed.

“Holy shit we have a baby.”

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