...You awoke with a start. Hearing the sound of jangling keys, followed by a door opening. Looking around, you found that you were still lying on the couch and that the TV was still on. Having obviously failed in your efforts to stay awake.
Rubbing at your eyes and letting out yawn, you turned your attention towards the front door, where sure enough, there was Randall shuffling slowly inside. His face wearing a rather large, extremely satisfied looking smile.
"Hey. Someone looks happy," you said, greeting him then.
Clearly not expecting you to still be here, Randall grabbed suddenly for his chest. "Jesus Christ!" he gasped. The sound of your voice startling him. "Holy fuck, dude! What... what are you still doing here? I thought you went home?"
"Nah. I kinda decided to hang around in the end," you replied, laughing a little at his reaction, "Seeing as I'd already missed dinner. I hope you don't mind. ...Must have fallen asleep watching TV..."
"No. No, that's... uh, that's cool," he told you, looking admittedly rather flustered. Standing at the door with his heels in one hand and his coat and handbag in the other. His dark hair slightly more tussled than it had been when he'd left."
Speaking of which... "What time is it anyway?" you asked, pulling your gaze from that incredible looking dress, noticing that it wasn't quite as dark as you thought it would be. Bright light streaming in from behind the blinds. It had to be pretty damn early in the morning for it too be this bright.
Not waiting for a reply, getting little more than a nervous sounding "Uh..." from Randall, you searched for the clock on the wall behind you. Getting quite a surprise when you saw what time it actually was. No way...
"Is it really after nine?" you said, having apparently slept right through - which in turn meant that he'd been out the entire night. "...and that's you just getting back now? Must have been one hell of a dinner party!"
Looking even more flustered now, Randall replied, "Eh, yeah. Kinda." Hurriedly hanging up his coat and dropping his heels onto the floor, almost as he was suddenly in some sort of rush to evade any more questions. You were curious though, wanting to know exactly where he'd been - highly doubting that the thing at Windham's would have been an all night affair.
"Where've you been all this time?" you asked him, as he disappeared from view.
"I was, uh... I was... with a friend."
"Oh..." You hadn't expected this. "What friend? ...Mads or Aisha or someone?"
"Not exactly no," you heard him mutter, looking over your shoulder then to where he was now busily searching through his handbag on the kitchen counter. Giving a little pause then as he said, "...A guy friend."
A guy friend...? What guy friend? You'd never really heard him make any mention of having any guy friends before - other than you of course. The only other guys he knew now were people he either worked with or that dude Josh, you'd ran into from the gym. Before you could question him any further though, to find out who exactly it was, Randall let out a sigh, lifting his head up and ever so slowly turning back round to face you. Looking incredibly nervous now.
"Shit, dude. There's... there's something I really got to tell you," he said, trembling slightly as he spoke. "I'm not exactly sure how you're gonna react, but, well... I didn't honestly expect you to be here when I got back..." This of course set alarm bells ringing. Randall sounding so serious as he spoke, recalling the fears you'd had from the following week when you thought there might be something wrong with him.
"What is it?" you gulped, having his full undivided attention, as you watched him then ever so slowly make his way over to an armchair next to the couch.
"This isn't exactly easy to admit, but here goes I guess," he said, taking a seat. Taking another rather long and excruciating pause, before finally revealing what it was he was trying to tell you. "I spent the night with a dude I met at the party. A guy called Garrett. I met him at the last one and well, we got to talking and he invited me back to his place. Where we... you know..." He paused again, his blue eyes avoiding your gaze. "...we had sex."
Holy fucking Christ! You just about fell off the couch. Not for one minute having expected to hear him say that. You were absolutely floored!
"You... you what?!" you yelped, not entirely sure that you'd heard him right. "You had sex!?" Feeling at the same time, shocked, confused, as well admittedly a little disgusted. Randall wasn't gay... he wasn't!
He responded with a nod, his cheeks flushing red as he flashed you the smallest of grins. "And to be honest, it was pretty amazing."
This barely even registered however. Still trying to wrap your head around the first part. Repeating again, "You had sex with a dude?! Buh-but...but how... why? You're not gay... You're into chicks!" Having once been 100% certain of this, but not anymore. "...Aren't you?"
His answer to this was not the outright assurance you might have hoped for, but was instead rather ominous. "Well that's the other thing I probably should have told you sooner..." For the first time since he'd started talking, actually forcing himself to look at you.
And so you sat and listened dumbfounded as he then began explaining these strange new urges and feelings he'd gradually been experiencing over the last month and a half or so. How he found his eyes being drawn towards other guys bodies at the gym, and how during masturbation he would frequently feel unsatisfied merely using his fingers - craving something bigger and longer inside. "It didn't really register at first what it was, but then one day I actually started picturing this guy, Josh, from the gym, cramming his dick into me while I was pounding my pussy with your Auntie's vibrator. It felt so right, and yet so wrong. Like I had the most incredible series of orgasms, but I felt kind of sickened with myself and disgusted for even thinking that way. I mean, you know me, I love women! All I ever thought about since I was like ten was getting into their panties. Not some dude's jockeys!"
This was exactly right. Randall had always been obsessed. Breasts and vaginas being pretty much all he talked about for the last six or seven years (that and video games). It was Randall who showed you your first porn. And told you about sex and girls before anyone else did. Which was why it was so hard to listen to this now. Not because you were homophobic or anything, but because, well... It just didn't seem right.
"And then what?" you asked, wanting to know how having these conflicting thoughts about guys led him to jumping straight into bed with one. "You just thought you'd try the real thing?"
Angrily shaking his head, clearly not impressed with your accusing tone, he answered, definitively, "No! I did my best to ignore it. To convince myself it was just one of those weird things that pop into your head from time to time. Cause I still find chicks a turn on... even this body!" His eyes dipping towards his ginormous mounds and the large portion of cleavage showing. "It's just... there was like this niggling little urge in the back of my mind all the time, you know?"
You didn't know. You had no idea what that must feel like. Having exclusively had a desire for girls and girls alone (a lot of the same ones as Randall in fact).
"Anyway," he continued, taking you silence for a "no", "I thought things were okay and that I could control it. That was until I went to that first party at Windham's."
Here it comes, you suddenly realized, the real reason his behavior was so off last weekend. It clearly not being anything at all to do with his menstrual cycle as you had convinced yourself it had.
"I had a few wines like I said to try and cope with the boredom and then I ran into this dude, Garrett. He's in marketing and was actually a pretty good laugh - unlike most of the other stiffs there. We had a few more drinks and joked about all kinds of shit... kinda like how we do. Then all of a sudden, towards the end of the night, he just leans over and starts kissing me, completely out of nowhere! I thought we were just paling around, like friends, but he obviously had a very different idea." Obviously. You doubted any man could see a woman like this, in the dress he'd been wearing, laughing away at all their jokes and acting all buddy-buddy, without them thinking they were getting somewhere. Randall having been rather naive in his drunken state.
"The thing is, I thought I'd be creeped out and shit, but I actually kind of enjoyed it. I even started kissing him back."
Jesus... you thought, having great difficulty hearing stuff like this. "So...so that's why you were acting all weird?"
"Yeah. I was confused as fuck and totally freaked out. Third time I ever actually made out with anyone and it was with a dude! Imagine that. Imagine discovering that some random guy actually made you wet. Not a hot chick in her underwear, or looking at yourself in the mirror, but a guy... with a dick! I didn't know what the hell was going on!"
Neither did you in all honesty. That being something you most definitely couldn't imagine.
Still, other things were suddenly starting to make sense to you as well. Such as his sudden urge for a 'checkup' at the hospital. "And when you made that appointment with Saunders..."
"I wanted to find out if it was something to do with the transplant," he told you, "and if there was anything they could do to fix it."
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