Transvestia

voice when I spun around to behold a tall, well- groomed woman in her forties. Her silvery hair was swept back on either side of her long Garbo-esque face, so that it had the immediate effect of calling attention to her dark, piercing eyes. I found it impossible to look away as she continued, "I was so afraid I was going to be late, but there is absolutely nothing to be done about this awful crosstown traffic." I smiled in agreement as the hostess led us to a rather secluded table for two at the far end of the restaurant.

The lunch hour was almost over and the crowd was thinning out. As we passed several departing gentlemen, I could feel their glance follow us across the room. At first, the new experience felt rather strange, but when I watched one of them admiring my legs out of the corner of his eyes, I flushed.

While we were being seated at the table, I had my first opportunity to really study Juniper. It was obvious that she was a woman of excellent taste; the slate grey of her hair complimented her costume perfectly. Her clothes in turn underscored the hand- some lines of her slim body. Her walk, as we cross- ed the room was definite yet delicate. And now she

sat opposite me erect but without stiffness. I stared at her with fascination as the hostess slid my chair into position. Arranging my skirts beneath me as I sat, I tried to emulate Juniper's calm; al- though within my heart resumed the stacatto rhythm of excitement.

"Where shall I begin?" she asked through a genuine smile while she removed her gloves.

Before I could answer, a waitress appeared with a wine-list and Juniper suggested we "celebrate" with cocktails. As we were waiting for the drinks to be served, she repeated her earlier compliments on my appearance and the ease with which I appeared in public as a woman.

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