Posts Tagged ‘high heels’

“Wow,” thought Mike as he looked around at the gorgeous women strewn about the room all dressed in the sexist of clothes.



“It’s just like a candy shop.”



He watched two young women dressed identically as school girls (or maybe they were real school girls). Plaid mini-skirt; white blouse; loose short tie; little white lace topped ankle socks and wearing 4 inch, black patent stiletto heels. They finished their champagne and put down their glasses. He continued to watch transfixed, as they lovingly looked into each other’s eyes, or rather stared intensely, each focused on wanting the other.



Still focusing on each other’s eyes, their faces moved closer together, then lingered as if they were savoring each other’s perfume. Their noses touched. Their red lips opened. They kissed slowly, their tongues intermittently on display as they probed in and out of each mouth, sharing their saliva. Their bodies and breasts writhed together. Their long fingers ran roughly through each of the others hair, pulling their faces closer and only just managing to maintain their standing position.



Clearly needing to explore as much of each other as possible, their hands moved downwards, caressing their breasts and body. Mike could now see they were both bra-less, their nipples hinting through the flimsy material and causing the tell tale nipple bulge. One of the girls unbuttoned a blouse and taking a nipple between her long red painted fingers, pinched hard and pulled up and out, causing gratifying and pleasurable pain. The nipple stayed hard and she repeated the act to the second breast, this time licking the tip as well, making it shiny with her saliva. She looked up into her friends eyes once more with that, “I really want to fuck you” look, but not saying a word.



Descending still further, their hands stroked along their thighs until finally reaching their plaid mini-skirts. No panties, no obstacles.



Still standing, one of the girls now probed the others cunt with her long fingers. One finger. Then two fingers. She briefly removed them and brought them up to her mouth to lick the juices and to apply lubricating spit. Using those same fingers, she went hard on her friend’s clit. Her friend began to writhe, head thrown back. She felt her own breasts, cupping them fully and squeezing gently, all the while her friend worked her clit with her fingers.



They stopped suddenly.



Needing more, much more, they withdrew hand in hand to another room, where a generous supply of toys awaited, desperate for the fucking each was going to give and receive. A couple of guys followed them, the bulge in there trousers apparent, maybe to watch, maybe to join in.



Mike had been at his friend’s party for about 15 minutes. He had had a hard-on for about 14 ½ of those minutes. His friend, Steve, whose house this was, was yet to show.



“Where the hell is he, I hate to start without him” Mike thought.



Steve, or Stephen, to those who didn’t know him intimately, was one of the richest guys in this part of the country and Mike had been very fortunate to have once been at school with his very rich friend.



The party was a monthly event, put on by a group of rich friends, and as the group had grown it had developed into a kind of elite club. It was called a party but really it was one big orgy. The biggest orgy in town you might say and was dedicated, for the select few, to extreme sex and perversity.



The group consisted of: single guys, married guys, some with their girlfriends’, some with mistresses’, some with wives, some without. One guy brought his sister another brought his mother (now that’s perverted), models, actresses’, Ex call girls, single women, etc, etc. You get the picture. The fact was they were all there for one thing; extreme fucking and sexual gratification. This wasn’t for the faint hearted.



Safe sex in this setting took on a new meaning. There were no condoms here. Every attendee had undergone medical tests to ensure they were physically safe. Every female had to be on birth control. No one wanted a paternity suit or an STD. Just the greatest sex they would ever have, without consequence and with lots and lots of cum.



There was one more stipulation. Whist in the group, participants could only fuck other group members. Casual, random fucking with outsiders was definitely out. This would help to ensure everyone remained safe. The size of group was such that no one’s interest waned and very few left the group. This was Mike’s second time.



He looked around the large reception room. The early guests were deep in conversation, glasses of Champagne in hand. One guy had his tongue down the back of a redhead’s throat, one hand pulling her red hair the other feeling her huge breasts. Another guy joined them from behind and he ran his hands up her smooth stockinged legs and inside her skirt, removing her thong. They withdrew, thong in hand, to one of the many rooms arranged for mutual fucking.



Mike stood facing the door, drink in hand. He watched as two of the sexiest women he had ever seen arrived at the party. His cock hardened even more as he watched the two girls walk across the room dressed in short skirts, black seamed stockings and the highest heeled shoes he had ever seen. As he looked closer, he realized their superb breasts were clearly on display through the semi-transparent lacy material they wore. Their makeup impressed him and made them look incredibly sexy and slutty, it definitely turned him on.



“Fuck!” He thought. “These babes are gorgeous. I’m going to have to fuck these.”



Sophie and Shelly walked across to the drinks attendant. Their 6 inch heels click clacking as they crossed the floor. Their legs looked so deliciously long walking on tip toe in their ultra high heels and nylon seamed stockings. They walked confidently with that sexy wiggle, their skirts just skimming the tops of their stockings. Their cunt juices were building to a point where not only did they need to be fucked as soon as possible, it meant they were so turned on there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do to get off.



As the girls approached the drinks attendant and before he could hand them a drink, Mike jumped in, drinks in hand.



“Hi girls, I’m Mike.”



“Not much of a chat up line” thought Shelly.



“Would you like a drink” he added.



He held out the glasses of Champagne and the girls took one each.



“Why thank you…. Mike” Sophie replied, with a slight pause before saying his name, mentally ensuring that she had heard it correctly.



“Yes, thanks Mike” Shelly added politely.



Taking a sip of Champagne, Shelly moved closer to whisper.



“But what we really need is a good hard fucking.”



At the same time her hand moved to the front of his trousers to check how hard and big his cock was. She was suitably impressed.



Totally unperturbed, Mike rebounded quick as a flash.



“That’s why I’m here. I’m always up for two girls at once.”



The girls laughed.



“Mike, we will need more than your ONE cock……. Do you have some friends?” The last remark added somewhat sarcastically.



“Of course, what were you thinking?”



The girls looked at each other.



“You and say….. Another five” Sophie said hopefully.



Mike responded. “No problem, a gangbang it is. Shall we finish our drinks first?”



“Sure” replied the girls, but really wanting to get down to it as soon as possible, as their clits badly throbbed.



For a short while the conversation continued with general chit chat. Mike found out that this was their first time and he gave them compliments about their appearance. The girls probed, finding out who Mike was and what he did and Mike did likewise.



“Have you seen Steve yet” Mike said.



“No, we only know of him through our girlfriend, Kalli. She should be here tonight, but I haven’t seen her yet” said Shelly.



“Great, Kalli can join us later” Mike replied.



Mike left them momentarily to round up some friends and Steve if he could find him.



Returning, Mike, his arms around both girls, led them all to another room.



Steve was nowhere to be found



The room was large and reasonably spartan. The decoration however was superb. There were mattresses on the floor and tables around the room holding a selection of sex toys and lubricants. The lighting had been dimmed and the sound of thumping dance music ensued, seemingly to set the rhythm for the mass fucking. The sound level was loud but such that everyone could make themselves heard.



The girls put their handbags to one side. Sophie unzipped her short red mini skirt, revealing her thong and fully displaying her black seamed stockings. She stood proudly in her ultra high heels and see-thorough top.



Not to be out done Shelly took off her mini dress and stood in thong, corset, stockings and her black patent 6 inch stilettos.



The two women looked at each other momentarily not knowing exactly where to start.



“Lick our cunts” Sophie demanded.



The guys were still taking in the sight of the two gorgeous sluts before them, in a kind of stunned amazement. Sophie’s order brought them out of their daze and they stripped as quickly as possible. This was made slightly more difficult with their huge erect cocks. Each of the men could be described as ‘fit’ and obviously worked out. Both Sophie and Shelly were not disappointed.



The girls edged back against the wall, their high heels stretched their leg muscles, their suspenders pulled tight and hence tightening their sheer stockings. Steve came to Sophie. She was in a hurry, Steve wasn’t. He kissed her gorgeous red shiny lips. Sophie responded with her tongue. He began to unbutton her lacy blouse, button by button. After the fourth button he pulled her top open to expose her gorgeous breasts supported by her quarter cup bra. He stooped to suck on her red lipsticked nipples, sucking them up hard.



Mike knelt, spread Sophie’s legs and thong and with his tongue and fingers began working on her hairless cunt.



At first Sophie looked down as mike worked on her cunt and clit. She could see his thick hard cock and knew that was coming soon, but then the uncontrollable pleasure began to hit home and her head went back in ecstasy. Mike was about to bring his hand around to finger her arse, but she was so horny she came in about 30 seconds, screaming obscenities. She shook with her first orgasm.



Shelly wasn’t far behind.



“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”…



They so needed to get that first orgasm out the way. Now it was game on. The girls certainly didn’t need any more foreplay, they needed something much bigger inside of them.



“We need our holes fucked!” One of the girls exclaimed.



The guys looked at each other, not knowing who was going to do what. Shelly organized them.



One guy laid on the mattress his huge cock standing up ready to be speared, Shelly didn’t disappoint. Now thong-less, she climbed on the huge cock and reamed it hard into her cunt.



“I need one in my arse” she exclaimed. “Lub me.”



One of the guys obliged, using some nearby lubricant. He worked the lub into her rosebud and it gaped as he drove his fingers in and out. Finally he drove his thick cock hard into her arse and up as far as it would go.



Sophie briefly looked on. This was what they had practiced for.



As if she wasn’t horny enough, the sight of her sister taking two cocks simultaneously into her cunt and arse, dressed like a slut in black seamed stockings, a corset, 6 inch high heels and proudly showing off her tits, was too much to bear.



If her sister could do it, she could do it better. She shouted at the guy with the biggest cock to get on the mattress. She removed her lacy see through top and with a large amount of lubricant, began lubing her gorgeous arse hole. She mounted the guy on the mattress, who realising what she wanted, banged his cock hard and straight up into her very wet cunt.



“Fuck my arse” she directed one of the guys looking on stroking his cock.



He knelt behind and forced his appendage into her well trained arse. Both guys now fucked Sophie with amazing ease and speed, forcing it hard and alternating their strokes into each orifice. The other two watching now offered their cocks to her mouth. Working both cocks by hand, she closed her cherry red lips over one and in conjunction with her tongue, began to suck hard. Her bangles jangled as her hands worked both cocks. The guy in her mouth wanted more and he forced her head right down, his cock slipping past her tonsils and down her throat. She could only take a small amount of throat fucking before gagging, but it didn’t matter as the guy pulled out and shot huge wads of cum over her waiting face. It seemed to keep pumping cum and Sophie made sure it all landed on her face. She looked up at him and smiled, her black eye make-up now covered with sperm, globs of cum hung from her eye lashes. The guy in her cunt came noisily, closely followed by the guy reaming her arse. She adored the sensation of cocks filling her with copious amounts of semen.



Then it came, the uncontrollable pleasure.



“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK…..” Sophie screamed as she orgasmed.



Her screams were muffled as the last guy forced his cock into her mouth and she sucked eagerly.



“Let me come on your heels” the guy fucking her mouth insisted.



She removed the cock and looked up.



“I don’t give a fucking shit where you come, just shoot.”



She span around and taking the thickly slimed cock with her gloved hand, worked it hard. She rubbed it over her nylon stockings and down on towards her shoes. Unbeknown to Sophie another guy who had been watching and wanking, came with a long stream of cum onto her nyloned leg. Using her fingers she scooped the white sperm up from her seamed stockings and sucked the cum into her mouth, licking them clean as the cum dripped from her long red nails.



Knelling, she took the now spent cock and worked some more cum out with her tongue. This final act caused the shoe guy to blow his load on Sophie’s 6 ½ inch red patent stilettos. The cock spent, she removed her shoe and holding the high heel in her gloved hand, licked all the cum from the shiny shoe. Using the thin heel like a spoon, she drove it side on across her face so as to retrieve any facial cum. She licked along its length and finally inserted the entire heel into her red lips and all the way into her mouth. She slipped her shoe back on and removed the second shoe to give it a cleanup with her tongue.



Sophie loved the taste of cum and could never get enough.



The guys fucking Shelly had shot they loads into her cunt and arse and she was now looking for more, jealous she hadn’t had cock and cum in her mouth like her sister.



The two sisters, stood up, moved towards each other. Horny with excitement they met, looking into each other’s eyes.



“You look such a slut Sophie” Shelly said.



Shelly cupped her sister’s face. Kissing, they drove their tongues into each other’s red lipsticked mouths, Sophie running her lacy gloved hands over Shelly’s stockings and back up to her tits. Shelly licked any remnants of cum from Sophie’s face.



They moved to the floor.



As if choreographed, Sophie lay on the floor and Shelly mounted her in a 69. The girls spread their legs wide, their lacy hands worked on their stocking tops whilst enthusiastically forcing their tongues and then fingers into each other’s cunts and arses. The girls enjoying the cum they managed to gleam from each other’s well fucked holes and sucked on their cum covered fingers.



The guys stood and enjoyed the sight, and what a sight it was.



Two gorgeous blond haired sisters in slut make up; sheer black seamed stockings; the highest heeled stilettos; covered in spunk; tonguing each other cunts; forcing their lace covered hands & fingers into each other’s wide gaping arses.



Shelly went over the top, closely followed by Sophie, both women shuddering to an orgasm and shaking violently.



“Fist my arse you bitch, I need it hard” ordered Shelly, as her shaking subsided and now wanting even more gratification.



Sophie made a fist and brought it to the entrance of Shelly’s gaping rectum. It was well lubed with cum and lubricant and Sophie thought about driving the fist straight into her sisters gaping hole. Instead she started with three fingers, then four, then wrapping her thumb inside her hand, (still in her lace gloves) drove her fist all the way in.



Holding it there for a few seconds, she removed it and started the process again. This speeded up, and she was soon fisting her sister’s arse at full speed. Time and again, in and out, Sophie fisted Shelly’s gaping hole and Shelly loved it. Her bangles jangled to the rhythm of the music.



“Fist my arse harder, you fucking slut!…. FUCKING HARDER!…HARDER”…



Sophie used two fingers from her other hand to stretch it further, and then three, the slight roughness of the lace increasing the pleasure still further.



“FUCKKKK…YOU SLUT..YOU FUCKING SLUT, FIST FUCK ME HARD, YES FUCKING YES, FUCKING YYYESS…FUCKKKK”….The vocal obscenities continued until Shelly shuddered to another massive orgasm.



It was soon apparent that the guys watching were now very hard again, craving to fuck Shelly’s engorged arse hole. One at a time cocks were forced into her wide gaping arse, whilst Sophie tongued her sister’s clit. Shelly was having multiple orgasms as each cock shot large amounts of cum into her accommodating hole. At one point two of the guys forced both their cocks into her sphincter with a corresponding amount of semen shot into her rectum. Eventually, the guys were spent and it was left to the two sisters again.



Shelly had finally finished multiple orgasming and realised she should to do something for her sister.



“Sis, I have some cum for you,” knowing what her sister craved most.



Shelly sat up and squatted over her sister’s mouth. Her heels stretched her leg muscles. The tight corset still maintained her hour glass figure; the suspenders pulled her stocking taught.



placing her lace covered hands behind her; she pulled her arse cheeks apart to reveal her dripping arse hole. Sophie knew what was coming and used her fingers to pull it even further open, revealing even more of Shelly’s large gaping, stretched, fuck hole. Shelly began to force the spunk out of her arse and into Sophie’s waiting mouth. Long strings of cum were squeezed out onto Sophie’s waiting tongue. More and more cum continued to flow. Sophie’s cherry red lips now covered in thick white semen, she licked them clean and continuously swallowed. Sophie forced her tongue deep into her sister’s rectum, so as to retrieve any final cum that remained.



Shelly dropped forward to attend to her sister’s cunt, fisting and tonguing Sophie to another orgasm, her legs wide and open. She pulled them up high as she started to cum. Sophie began to shake as she had her biggest orgasm yet. Such was her love of cum



They stopped for a breather, all temporarily spent.



The guys clapped appreciatively, as if it was a performance and I guess in some ways it was.



Mike knelt down and gently kissed the girls.



“Get cleaned up and I’ll get us some drinks.”



“Thanks Mike. That was some fuck” Shelly said.



“….and we didn’t even know all their names” Sophie added.



“We’re such sluts” Shelly concluded.



The guys were spent, but the girls would soon want more.



This was a night that could only get better….



To be continued….

Chapter Twenty-Two



The lights of the library snapped on at once. Amanda sucked in air as the sudden change of scenery sent chills through her as her body readjusted. The book she had started to read lay at her feet, almost in the condition she found it in. She was dressed as she was before, but wrapped around her left hand, and tied at her wrist with a knot was Mark’s favorite necktie! The realization of what she thought was her imagination which was suddenly real sent a jolt of adrenaline through her! Her eyes focused more sharply on the tie on her left hand while her right hand went between her thighs to feel the warm wetness of Bobby’s ejaculate on her mound and abdomen. She held her hand up to see the creamy goo on her palm and fingers, “What the fuck?”



The uncertainty of the situation set her into a panic and her body began to shake. She ran up the stairs and to the door, which was now closed, and slapped at the door with her open hand before it easily pushed open for her. She emerged in the bathroom and quickly closed the library door.



Amanda stripped naked and turned the shower on and quickly got inside, forgetting that the tie was still wrapped around her hand. She let the shower water fall around her, soaking her hair and skin. She finally untied the tie from her hand and wrist and flung it over the top of the shower stall. “What just happened to me?” she said to no one there. The shaking of her body slowly began to subside.



“It was so real!” again she said to no one else but herself.



She turned to look and see if there were any evidence of what had happened on her behind, since that seemed to be the favorite target of the two paddle wielding terrorists! Yup, sure enough, there were marks! She opened the stall door and grabbed the cracked bar of soap and washed herself and stopped.



“I have no idea how this just happened,” her mind tried to reel in what she had just experienced.



Finally, after calming down, she examined her own feelings to find if she was feeling molested or just freaked out by the library and it’s unexplainable abilities. She admitted to herself, that she never felt in danger at any time. They did give her a word to use if they got too intense on her. But she had to know what it was that she just discovered in Mark’s house! That was what she was reacting too! What is this crazy room and could it explain what happened to Mark! That was the reality that gripped her even as she rubbed her sore, paddled ass.



Chapter Twenty-Three



Amanda, emerged from the shower and discovered she had to walk around the house dripping wet and naked in search of bath towels! The idea of wearing a robe, that had been hung behind the bathroom door and not been washed in about two years didn’t quite give her the sense of cleanliness she was wanting at that moment, so she passed on wearing it as she searched for a towel. She found them in a hallway closet and walked back into the master bedroom’s bathroom and finished drying herself off. She kept her dress off, but put her shoes back on and opened the door to the library again. The lights snapped on immediately as the door cracked open. She paused at the libraries stairs to question if she wanted to experience it again. She resolved herself to uncover the mystery and slowly stepped into the library, waiting for anything to happen.



Nothing moved, flickered or even made a sound. It was eerie, knowing what could occur here, but comforting to know that nothing was coming at her either!



She went back to the same aisle where the book about bondage lay on the floor, right where she had left it. Her blood raced in her as she reached and picked it up again. She took a deep breath and turned it around and began to read again. The library vanished around her and again, instead of bookshelves and reading material, she found herself in the not-so-comfy confines of the same dungeon. Again, she found herself bound, but this time she was bent at the waste, on her knees and in the doggy position with a small but sturdy couch like cushion between her and the floor. Someone or something was being pushed into her ass in a slow steady pace, “MUSTANG!” she cried out at the top of her lungs.



Immediately the pressure of the penetration, stopped, but did not remove him or itself from her rectum. The Master’s voice returned, “Something the matter, Initiate?”



“Mustang,” she said to him.



“You want to be released?”



“Yes Master,” she said softly. “I have to know something, my Master.”



She heard the tear of velcro and the movement of whatever it was invading her ass was being eased away. “I notice that you still have the marks of recent training. What brings you back so soon?” the Master said civilly as he continued to undo her straps that kept her pinned down.



Amanda, once free, stood up and again noticed she was wearing her own shoes but also wearing the same mysterious corset and latex hosiery from before. “Yes Master, I just left here thirty minutes or so ago.”



His head tilted but his face was still obscured by the black leather mask, and he said, “That’s odd. I don’t remember you being here then.”



“You initiated me with Bobby and Mistress Vanessa. Then after Bobby came all over me, you whispered something to me and tied a necktie around my wrist and I left! Don’t you remember?”



“You say Mistress Vanessa and Bobby were here? . . . Thirty minutes ago?”



“Yes Master.”



“Is that why you’re here, to find them again?”



“No Master. I want to know why you gave me that tie! What this place is? How is it that I begin to read, appear here, then go back to where I started from! I want to know what’s going on!” she demanded.



The Master said, “Did the tie look like this?” From a leather strap above him the exact duplicate of the tie she returned with hung suspended from the strap.



“Yes. That’s the tie!”



“That is my Master’s tie. He owns me and all that you see here! Are you not the Initiate Amanda?” he asked.



“Yes I’m Amanda. But who is your Master?”



“My Master has instructed me to give you this tie and to tell you he is well and wants you to find him! But you must be taught and conditioned first.” The Master looked her in the eye and said, “If you’ve seen Mistress Vanessa, then you’re lessons here are done. I’d suggest you find your next lesson in the same manner in which you’ve found this one.”



“In the library?”



“Is that the origin of here?”



“For me it was,” she said.



There was silence between the two of them for a long moment when he said, “Master is alive and well, and is waiting for you!”



The news caught her breath and she whispered loudly, “Mark?”



“Does this ‘Mark’ own a tie such as this?” he pointed at the tie hanging above them.



“Yes,” she said as she nodded her head.



“Then we speak of the same.”



Amanda shifted her hips and asked, “Why do you call him ‘Master’?”



“Because he owns all that you see, including me. But he does not own Mistress Vanessa or Bobby. They were here before him.”



Amanda put two and two together, “The owner of the book?”



“I know of no book.”



“Master, this is important. Was there ever a time that Mistress Vanessa and Bobby were your Master or Mistress or whatever it is you’d call them?”



“Yes, of course! But they choose to stay here with me, instead of going on,” he answered.



“What does ‘Going on’ mean?” she pressed.



The Master answered her, “It means, they like it here! They didn’t need to find anything better for themselves.”



“They are ‘Masters’ who have decided to stay,” she looked to the dark ground and said softly, away from his steady gaze still trying to make any solid connection.



“Master, are there others?”



“Other what?”



“Are there other Masters or Mistresses that have decided to stay?” she inquired.



“Why of course, but they have moved to other parts of the dungeon.”



She needed a straight answer, “What do I have to do to stay or leave?”



“That decision is not yours to make yet!” he advised. “First you must find the Master. If then you decide to stay, you may. But if you decide to ‘Go on’ you can, and leave the Master to what he has chosen for himself.”



Amanda looked at her Master, “When I want to leave here, or anywhere, what must I do?”



“You must gratify, and too, you as well must be gratified! When both of those obligations are met, you can return to where it is you are from.”



She raised her eyebrows, “So you’re saying I have to fuck my way out?”



“That and more.”



“What’s more?” she asked.



“Don’t forget, you must be a giver and a taker! Not be a giver or a taker, and also you must take the Master’s gift.”



“I think that’s what I said, isn’t it?”



To that his slap paddle made sharp contact to her rear and he said with what appeared to be a smile behind his mask, “No, it is not. Your time here is not restricted. You have done what you were obligated to achieve. If you wish to stay, you may for a short time more. But you will be made to obey, when that choice of yours is to be made. You are able to leave, when you decide to leave, but you must take the gift from my Master with you, everywhere it is that you go, here or elsewhere, there is a gift to receive and it is to go with you.” He pulled down the tie and wrapped it around her left wrist again and tied it securely. “After you find my Master, the one you call ‘Mark’ is when you no longer will need his gifts for travel.”



“So I can stay here indefinitely? Can you tell me where I will find Mark?”



“No to both. You referred to a book, and like a book, the last page must be turned to finish the book.”



“That’s pretty philosophical for a dungeon master, don’t you think,” she dared to say sarcastically.



The smack of his paddle came sharp and quick, his demeanor had changed. He approached her sternly and bellowed, “I am the Master to you! You will NOT address me in that manner!” He pointed to the ground with his paddle and demanded, “On your knees Initiate!”



She said, “I don’t think so this time. I’m outta here!” The Master’s paddle again made its incredibly fast travel to her ass cheek as the dungeon dissolved and the library reappeared. Her breathing accelerated like she had jogged a mile, and she felt something similar and passing almost like an abrasion on her butt cheek. She checked it and saw nothing there that wasn’t there before. She was glad she got out of there when she did! That one was going to hurt, and of that she was sure! She looked down between her patent leather pump clad feet and saw the book and decided to leave it where it was, splayed open in the walkway.



She remembered the tie and untied it from her left wrist and draped it around her neck. Both sides fell across her nipples, it hid the barbells she was wearing there. She climbed the stairs up to the library door and found it closed again. She opened it and peered on the floor of the bathroom, the other tie was no where to be seen. From there she heard her cell phone ringing on the bathroom counter.



“Hello, this is Amanda,” she said into the small phone causing a slight echo.



“You sound like you’re in a bathroom,” Sylvia said from her end.



Amanda smiled and dipped her chin, “That’s exactly where I am. Am I late?” she pulled the phone away from her ear and took a quick peek at the time display. It said 5:15 pm! ‘That means that what happens in the library is real time! Wow!’ she thought.



Sylvia was saying, “Hello? Amanda? Are you still there?”



“I’m sorry, I had to finish a thought. Let me get freshened up and I’ll see you at the mall in about half an hour, okay?” Amanda said.



“Okay sweetie! Are you okay? You sound really distracted!”



“Sylvia, you haven’t got any idea what’s going on, but you’re gonna love it and think I’m nuts all at the same time!”



“Amanda, you know I love you, don’t you?”



“Yeah, I do.”



“Good, so you should also know that I already do think you’re nuts and it shouldn’t hurt your feelings, right?” Sylvia said with a smile.



Amanda feigned indignation, “What? How dare you! I’ve got a ton of money now and for that you get to buy my dinner tonight! Take that you meanie!”



“See you in thirty minutes?” Sylvia asked.



“Yup! Bye!”

I lay back on the bed next to Cindy, totally relaxed. The room was hot from our exertions so we lay without touching. At least until she began to run her fingers over my groin, finding where my panties were soaked through with my cum.



She moved to lay on her side, propped on her elbow, her left breast laying heavily against my arm as her right hand traced the edges of my panties and brushed my shaved legs. I shuddered happily as one finger slid down to stroke the gusset of my panties, a suggestive move toward my erogenous bottom.



I closed my eyes as her hand moved up my body, dancing over my cock for a few moments, ensuring that it recovered to half-hard. She went further up, over my smooth abdomen toward my bra and the soft, full fake breasts that filled the satin, lace, and wire completely.



I looked and saw her cupping my breasts, her fingers touching and swirling the prominent nipples around where they announced themselves in the otherwise smooth, pink satin of the cups.



The journey completed by touching my face and my lips. Traces of lipstick still rubbed off on her fingertips.



“You are a divine creature, Janie,” she said at last, satisfied with her inspection.



“Thank you, honey,” I said with a smile. I was in a glow of sexual satisfaction and acceptance. If you’d asked me three months ago, I’d say such a woman as Tessa didn’t exist, could never embrace my passion for the feminine and find her own pleasures in it. Needless to say, I’d do anything for her.



Her hand had returned to my panties, stroking them and bringing my cock back to life for round two.



“I think I’m ready for the next step, Janie,” she said after a couple minutes of silent stroking.



“Anything, my goddess,” I breathed, the flow of erotic pleasures in my cock was beginning its journey around my body and mind.



“When we play, I tease you about being a slut and a panty-loving sissy…”



“And more,” I grinned.



“Exactly. I think the theme is pretty clear, but we’re missing the main event.” She paused again, still stroking, though I was beginning to realize that this was very serious to her.



“What do you mean?”



“I think it’s time you became a cocksucker.”



While my face flushed and I suddenly found swallowing to be difficult, she continued to hold my cock. She felt it swell in her fingers. I couldn’t reply but she was smiling.



“Are you ready to play?” That was our code phrase for sexual play time where I would get to dress all sissy and we’d experiment.



“Yes…” I said quietly.



She leaned back to reach underneath the pillows on her side of the bed. I got a lovely view of her tight body and healthy D-cup breasts. I was more blessed than any man or any sissy had a right to be.



When she leaned back, she had a rubber cock in her hand. Without thinking, I let out an exhale of tension.



She raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I meant? No, don’t answer. I think I get the message. Anyway, this is my cock. It took some time to find the right one since I wanted a beautiful one that was also big enough to satisfy my girlfriend, Janie. Do you like my cock?”



“Yes, Tessa, your cock is beautiful and sexy.”



“Thank you. I’m very proud of my cock.” She got up until she was standing on the bed over me. I watched her carefully step into the strap-on harness, pull it up her legs, and adjust it for a few moments until he stayed in place and was positioned just right.



“Mmmmm, yes, I like my big, heavy cock,” she purred, swinging it around with just a movement of her hips. “I like to touch my cock too.” She traced her fingers up and down the shaft before slipping it into her grip and beginning to stroke it.



“Oooo, yea, that feels good. I like to stroke my cock. Makes it so hard, especially when I’m looking at my girlfriend.”



My panties were tented with my raging hard-on and it was hard to keep from reaching down to rub myself through the cum-soaked satin.



Tessa got back down on the bed, laying back propped up with the pillows.



“Janie, will you kiss my cock?” Her hand was still moving in a motion similar to a guy masturbating but just off enough that you could always tell she was a girl.



I slid down the bed and then got up on my knees next to her hips.



“Just kiss it, that’s all, honey,” she teased. I looked at the dildo more closely. The color was a surprising match for Tessa’s skin tone and the detail of the mold was impressive with a distinctive cum-hole and circumsized foreskin. It was then that I noticed the foreskin was moving up and down with her hand. Fascinated, I moved in for a closer look.



The detail was really amazing. If I were to squint, I could easily mistake it for a real cock. I felt her hand touch my head, not pushing but almost suggesting that I kiss it. So I did. The ‘skin’ of the head was soft with a hard core. It must have cost her a fortune.



“Ooo, baby, that feels so good. Kiss it all over.”



I got myself settled so I could lean down to the whole cock easily and began to kiss and lick the whole thing, from the fat head down to the hairless but moveable balls. I saw little traces of the slutty red lipstick I’d chosen for the evening.



“Janie, will you suck the head? Just the head a little, honey?” she whined playing her role perfectly. And if I wasn’t mistaken, I could tell that her sex was enjoying it too.



I placed my lips around the head and gently drew it into my mouth. I shuddered at the sensation. It was something I’d fantasized about now and then but never felt like I really wanted to bring it up to Tessa. Maybe after everything we’d done together I was still afraid that I could push her too far.



But I quickly forgot about all this and entered that zone where I’m completely focused on her and myself and the sensations… the weight of my breasts in my bra pulling the straps against my skin… the way my panties slide over my bottom as I shift my cock in the front… the enforced position of my feet strapped into 4″ high heels. Now I could add the sensation of taking a soft cock into my mouth.



The rubber felt cool at first, but as I worked it, it warmed up and made the illusion seem even a little more real. Tessa didn’t have to play at asking me any more. I easily moved on from sucking the head to sliding more of it in my mouth. I used lots of saliva, getting it nice and slick.



“Oh yeah, fuck that feels good,” she moaned as I began to bob my head up and down on the cock, keeping my teeth from the edges but pressing my tongue against it all the way up and down. I was about halfway down, I guess, when it would hit the back of my throat. Those were the moments where she gasped a little.



The way the foreskin shifted under my lips was amazing and it didn’t take much for me to dream that it was a real cock I was mouth-fucking. She gasped again.



Of course! She was getting rubbed by the base of the dildo. As soon as I caught on to that, I changed my blowjob technique to stimulate her more.



She was watching me intently, sucking ‘her’ cock, and I saw her face and breasts flush as they do sometimes when she gets very aroused. I wanted to reward her for bringing this into our play time so I got a finger nice and slick with my saliva and went to press against her asshole.



Her eyes shut and her hands went to pulling on her thick nipples. She was past words as I slowly felt her ass open and let my finger slip inside. She began to buck up, thrusting the cock into my mouth and grinding the base against her clit. I let her work it as I slowly started fucking her ass with my finger.



After only a couple minutes, she came, her ass clenching down on my finger and her hand reaching out to my hair to hold my head as she ground against the base, getting the real peak out of the orgasm.



Soon, we were back to laying on the bed. She was breathing hard, her eager cock jutting proudly over her pussy. Her fingers reached over and found my aching cock in my wet panties.



“My cock does something else too,” she whispered grinning.

I have been waiting for so long.



You walk into hotel room. I am waiting for you. On my knees.



You smile nervously and offer a wisecrack. I tell you to step out of your knickers where you stand, you obey, self consciously. Nerves so evident.



I tell you to hitch up your skirt to show me your pussy. More nervous wisecracks which im not buying.



“Just do it” I smile…. and you do.



With a flush creeping up your neck you reach down with both hands to expose your clit gently tapping it free as you spread yourself for me. Pulling the hood back to show me, face flushed and pussy wet now. Clit already fat and straining



“Come here”. You obey, holding yourself open, until you are inches from my mouth.



“Put it in my mouth” and you strain forward as I open my lips to suck and lick your clit like a miniature cock…. but I make you wait, feeling nothing but my hot breath until you beg,



‘oh PLEEASE!’



I relent and envelop the straining tip of your sex before I slide my tongue into your soaking pussy. My intakes of breath are muffled as twine your fingers into my hair, preventing me from teasing, enjoying the pain as you try to drive my face into your swollen lips, humping my mouth with your legs slightly bent, resplendent in your Choo heels.



I slide my hands between you legs as I stand. Lifting and spreading your knees wide as I do, you finally notice the fat dildo stuck to the edge of the table, pointing skywards and almost quivering with an energy of it’s own.



I carry you over, positioning your liquid cunt over the fat tip. Teasing you with fleeting contact, watching your eyes widen and mouth open as I let you slide onto its length.



There is a chair for each foot as you unconsciously begin to roll tour hips forwards and back. Girth roiling inside you as I slide to my knees again, offering my tongue and mouth for your engorged clit on every forward stroke until your rhythm accelerates and I suck and lick in earnest as you begin to come.



And its not a quiet orgasm either. Howling, you jerk up and off the fat rubber cock, knees out and presenting me again with your now obscenely gaping pussy as I put my face close and breathe you in. You recover to watch me licking your come off the dildo as I look at you.



And we are not nearly done. Turning you onto your knees you slide your convulsing pussy back on with a soft howl. Arse presented. I distance myself with difficulty and walk around to proffer you my cock. “Get it very wet” is my instruction. “When you have I am going to slide it into your rosy little arse, up to the root”… you slobber over my cock in desperation hips beginning to dance again as I return to your inviting bumhole. Tongue -fucking you in between suggestion and description of how you are about to be double fucked and breathing with barely contained fury as your buttmuscle streches over the slick head of my cock.



And then I slide in, one long slow rush and I open you completely. You rear up from the table, back arched as I unceremoniously fuck you hard. Reaching around to prise your nipples from your top and torment them, as all control abandoned you wail out loud seeking your reflection of the window pain. Skewered and writhing in shadowy silhouette. Heels still on.



I stop after your second orgasm. Help you down to lie on the bed as you look up at my dripping still-erect cock. As I lower it towards your mouth you watch fascinated as a dribble of cum escapes the tip, looping lazily towards your beautiful face.



Your mouth opens. Ready to slide me in. But I have other ideas and take your hands in mine wrapping the painted nails of one hand around my cock head, the other I put to my own arse as your fingers twist and torture my skin there, pinching and spreading as you jerk me off into your open mouth.



The head of my cock is now so sharply defined in arousal. A thousand different shades of cream, pink and red, dripping and vital. The closed loop of your thumb and forefinger is battering up against the crowning ridge of my cock and as I begin to come that loop closes tight, preventing release for just a split second before I gush onto your outstretched tongue, lips and chin.



We sleep, sated at least for a while. For exactly how long I have no idea, but I wake to the sound of the dildo’s suction cup coming away from the table.

**********



A series of stories with transgender themes which I hope will be of interest to those who like women, or would like to be a woman. Which includes me!



**********



I sat there, in the kitchen, suddenly very nervous again. The previous half-hour had started out nerve-racking enough but I had settled, more quickly than I had imagined. Carol hadn’t laughed, she had been kind, and interested, and considerate, and she had listened and asked intelligent questions. But then we had heard the car pull up outside and I had dashed upstairs to change – or just to hide. Now? I was sitting in the kitchen for a while. Waiting. Was this a good idea? I wasn’t sure. I nervously sipped on my drink and pulled my short skirt down, I didn’t want it showing my stocking tops.



I heard cheery laughter as Gemma chatted with Bob, and as he shared a joke about his dinner-with-a-client with his wife Carol. I had heard them go through and start talking quietly in the lounge, I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then the door to the kitchen opened and Gemma came in and looked at me. “OK, dear? Ready for this?”



**********************



It had all started out so innocently that evening. I got home early, as I always tried to do when we had friends to stay. Carol and Bob were old friends, I had known Bob at college and he and I had been each other’s best man when we both got married within a couple of years of starting work.



Gemma and I had been happy for nearly twelve years, the usual ups and downs but we had worked to overcome them, and we had no reason to believe Carol and Bob didn’t share similar wedded bliss. But that evening when Carol had arrived early, to have a good chatter with Gemma before Bob came along later, we had learned that things were quite not as they seemed. I had been surprised when Gemma had called me in, to join in their discussion.



“I’ve told Gemma and she seems to think you should know too,” said the lovely Carol when I sat opposite her with my coffee.



I had been a little distracted, she was wearing a short skirt and I had always admired her legs. Gemma and I had often joked about that. But I tried to concentrate on what she was saying, not on her legs and her prominent bosoms.



“It’s Bob and I. We had a good talk last night. We’re thinking about a divorce.”



We were shocked to say the least. I had thought I knew them both very well, we were so often in each other’s houses and had been since just after our college days. I played golf with Bob, and all four of us frequently went down to the town pool for a swim when I really could admire Carol’s figure. And we’d all been to the cinema together, sometimes to the theatre. But, I realised, not so much recently, I remembered Gemma had commented on that a couple of days earlier.



I really didn’t know what to say. But Carol continued.



“It’s a collection of things really. We seem not to do so much together these days and – well – in bed, it just doesn’t seem to work anymore. I mean, it used to be so good … ”



At which she began to sob again. Gemma moved to comfort her, I myself stood up and walked over to kneel in front, to take her hand, to try to offer some support. Eventually she settled down and began to smile a little, difficult in the circumstances.



It was Gemma’s turn to speak.



“Alan, we have to help here, don’t we.”



I didn’t really see how, I mean it was between Bob and Carol really, OK we would help out in any way we could but I really didn’t see how. I looked at them both, two very attractive women in their mid-thirties, both somewhat upset. It was Gemma who surprised me by what she said next.



“Carol, you probably don’t realise this but Alan and I have been through this ourselves.”



I didn’t realise what was going to come next, or I would probably just have shouted ‘NO’ and run out. Carol looked across at me, then at Gemma.



“You two? Oh no, surely not, I mean, you and Alan, we’ve always looked at you as a sort-of role model where marriage is concerned. I mean, a couple of months ago I noticed you seemed a bit down, Alan, but since then, well, you’ve never seemed happier.”



I didn’t know how to explain, in fact she was so right, but things had changed in the previous two months.



“Well Carol. We had to talk it through, and we came up with a way of helping ourselves.”



No!



“It was after we had watched a television program. I had an idea and Alan went along with it.”



No! No!



“Some people might think it a little unconventional but, well, in the privacy of our own home, as I said we came up an idea, it doesn’t affect other people and it works for us.”



No!!! Surely not. This was private, not for sharing. Not even with our nearest friends. Surely Gemma wasn’t going to tell Carol about this, about our secret. I looked straight at her, screaming ‘no’ with my eyes.



“Alan, I think this may be a good idea. To tell Carol at least, Bob won’t be here for quite a while yet. She can keep a secret, I trust her. And if it helps her to realise that someone like us can find a way through all the problems, well, I think we’re obliged to help. How about it?”



I sat and thought about it. Rather stunned. It was between Gemma and me. It was private, man-and-wife stuff, not for public consumption. Gemma had a point, I wanted to help Bob and Carol but was this the only way? Would it really help? I would be revealing all to Carol, maybe not to Bob, how would she react? On the other hand I had to admit that in a way I was rather thrilled by the thought of sharing it with another person apart from Gemma. Maybe I could do it.



“Alan, you can do it. Yes you can. Shall I tell Carol, do you want to be here when I do or would you rather go? You could go sort some stuff in the garden.”



Carol had recovered from her distress to some extent while we were discussing this. She looked across at me, then at Gemma, puzzled.



“Look, you two, I don’t want to cause even more problems. I mean, whatever Gemma is on about, Alan, if you’re not happy about it….”



“Alan, go on. I’m sure it will help, and I’m also sure you’d really like to. I’ll help. You go on upstairs and make a start, I’ll come and help in a minute. I really think it would be better to show Carol, not just to tell her. Please.”



And it was the way she said that ‘please’, that did it, she could wind me round her little finger when she said that, it was the look on her face when she said it, some combination of coy and sexy. I gave in, I stood up and went out and upstairs. Gemma joined me after a few seconds.



“Right then, Alan, I know you will enjoy this. You go and shower, I’ll get your stuff ready. So, shower I did.



When I returned to the bedroom Gemma had gone back downstairs again. I looked at what she had laid on the bed. I became just a little aroused, at the thought of what was to come and of Carol waiting downstairs. I set to it. About twenty minutes later Gemma came back to help with my preparation. She had worked part-time in a beauty salon when she had been in college herself and had become very skilful in make-up. After helping me she went back downstairs, and very soon I followed her.



I paused outside the lounge, then knocked gently on the door.



“Come in” I heard Gemma call out.



I opened the door and went in. Carol looked at me. I stood there, in front of her, rather differently dressed from what she had seen about an hour earlier. She looked me up and down. I felt very different too. My own hair was beginning to recede but the shoulder length deep brown wig I was wearing hid all that. The delicate clip earrings were different too, as was the ‘gold’ choker with a deep blue central stone. Gemma had done her usual excellent job on my makeup, I was thrilled with the overall effect of my bluish eye-shadow, thick eye liner and mascaras and the deep red lipstick, coated with a smooth lip gloss.



The clothing had changed too. No more shirt and trousers, I was wearing a sheer cream blouse with ruffles down the front between my ‘breasts’ and at the cuffs. It went well with the short tight black skirt and black stockings, held up by my suspenders. And the shoes, Gemma hadn’t realised which ones I was going to wear when she had done my make-up. I’d always loved high heels, for many years I’d loved to look at Gemma’s legs or Carol’s when they were wearing stilettos. And now I was wearing my own. I stood there, waiting to be inspected, my tight black basque holding me in, pushing my ‘boobs’ out, giving me a more-than acceptable figure. The little cap and frilly apron completed the effect – I was to all appearances a real ‘lady’s maid.’



Carol spoke at last.



“Wow! Alan, you look sensational – I never imagined ….. I wasn’t sure what Gemma was on about but this, well!! I don’t know how to say this, I hardly dare admit it but – Gemma – looking at Alan like this, I’m getting rather turned on!”



That was something new. And something which very much surprised me at first. But then I remembered the sort of comments which Gemma had made when she first saw me dressed, or at least the first time she saw me properly dressed. Made up that is, with nylons covering my shaved legs, with a tight basque or a waist cincher, able to show a proper female figure. In fact after she saw me for the first time Gemma had said I really looked like ‘a babe’. Gemma had liked it, maybe Carol did too.



In other circumstances I might have been really impressed that Carol found me attractive. In this case I was happy, maybe even thrilled, but not ‘excited’, not in a sexual way. The two girls persuaded me to walk round a little, to sit and to stand, then Gemma asked me to get them some drinks. I made each a vodka and lime, I decided there and then that if the chance ever came that was going to be ‘my’ drink. If ever. And it was then, just as we were talking about my dressing, and wondering if Gemma was going to ask me to join them for a drink, that we heard a car outside. Bob was back, from work.



I looked at Gemma, rather alarmed, this wasn’t supposed to happen, there was supposed to be another hour yet before he returned. I just had to get changed back, and quickly. I turned and dashed out and upstairs. I heard some shouting behind me but I didn’t wait to hear, I was in too much of a hurry. I just got into the bedroom and reached behind me to unzip my skirt when a hand grabbed mine from behind. It was Carol.



“Wait, Alan. Or should I say ‘Alice’. You’ve been so great so far, I want to know and I think Bob might too. Really, we do need help, Bob was getting rather desperate a couple of nights ago. And he was totally useless in bed last night. I know I shouldn’t be saying this to you or to Gemma but we do need someone we can trust. And you can trust us, both of us, too. Please. Come down. As you are. I’ll explain what is going on to Bob. If you can find it in you to help us this time, please Alan, I really don’t want Bob and I to have to go on like this.”



She was beginning to sob by then. I never could stand a woman crying, especially a friend. I just knew that, whatever the consequences, I had to say yes. So I did. Which is why, a few minutes later, I was at in the kitchen. Hesitant. Waiting. I could hear the girls and Bob talking next door. Presumably they were telling him what was going on. But how much of it? What was about to be expected of me? I heard Gemma’s voice calling out.



“OK, dear? Ready for this?”



**************



I walked through into the lounge and turned to face Gemma. And Bob. I wasn’t sure exactly what the girls had told him, I hadn’t been able to hear properly what they had been talking about. Probably something about Gemma and me having had difficult times ourselves and of our pleasure in being able to work through them. But, from the look on Bob’s face, I could see Gemma hadn’t told him exactly how.



He said nothing for several seconds, then spoke, “Streuth Alan, You look sensational!”



Again, as with Carol, not quite what I had been expecting, Not laughter, not ridicule, not ‘Alan you look totally stupid’, nothing like that. I decided to maintain whatever illusion I had succeeded in creating.



“Good evening sir, may I get you a drink?”



It was the combination of the mild manner and the rather gentle voice which did it, I think, and Bob’s own obvious mental jump which matched the one I had made myself some months earlier. Not a massive jump, just an assumption about my name.



“Er – yes please – er – Alice, a whisky if I may.”



I smiled sweetly at Bob and turned towards the drinks trolley, pouring his drink and adding what I knew to be the right amount of soda. I turned towards him and noticed Gemma and Carol beaming at each other.



“Gemma, did you see that. You are a dirty old man, Bob Harris, I saw the way you tried to look up Alan’s skirt!”



Bob felt in some way caught out, he stuttered a little.



“Well – er – no, I was just looking – I mean – ”



“You were looking at his legs!” Gemma butted in.



The accusations were made light-heartedly but there was just a slight edge to what Carol was saying.



“Gemma, please, you have to say ‘she’ and ‘her’, after all it is a woman you can see isn’t it? And if you think her body looks good now you should see her in a mini-dress and sheer stockings!”



That broke the ice, all three of them collapsed in mild hysterics. I was just beginning to feel rather embarrassed, rather out of it, when Carol brought us all back down to Earth.



“Well, like I said, you really do look gorgeous Alice. If you’re being the maid maybe you’d like to freshen all our drinks and you can both tell us all about it.”



“Yes, do, Alice dear. And you can take off your cap and apron and come and have a drink too.”



I did another whisky and soda, and this time three vodka and limes, then sat down on the sofa next to Gemma. I carefully slid my legs to one side, trying to sit delicately, Carol smiled when she noticed my difficulty. We spent the best part of an hour chatting about my dressing, about how I felt being seen as a woman, and most importantly how Gemma and I thought it had helped us. We both had to admit – it wasn’t entirely the sex but that was an important part of it.



Making love as two women, with me often teasing Gemma’s cunt, with my long scarlet-nailed fingers or with my lips, basically playing at being two women in bed together, we loved it! Specially when we played with each other’s breasts, and even more specially when we both wore exotic and usually very expensive bras and panties. It was just fun! Carol kept asking about what it felt like, I am sure she was getting rather excited by images of me dressed in underwear. Maybe I was just flattering myself.



I had often wondered how things would have worked out if Bob and I had done things the other way round when we started double-dating, maybe me with Carol, Bob with Gemma. Could she have fancied me? And what’s more, did she in any way now? Even with me dressed like this? I was jolted back to reality when Carol came into the kitchen with me to clear away the glasses at the end of the evening.



“Well, Alice. It’s certainly been an interesting evening. Bob has enjoyed it, I can tell. Have you noticed?”



It did surprise me to hear her say that. She seemed to be saying something else but I didn’t really understand. I looked straight at her, she had a rather weird smile on her face. I was going to ask but she grinned even wider.



“Alan, you must have noticed Bob. His pants! He had a very large – well – boner! He kept looking at your legs and at your figure. You really do have a very good figure you know. Bob has been definitely very attentive, I’m beginning to get a bit worried about him!”



She was still grinning, thank goodness, not really seriously about her ‘allegations’ – I could well have worried if that hadn’t been the case.



Later that evening, as Gemma and I were getting ready for bed, I told my wife what Carol had said, I really wanted to know what she thought about it and whether she thought revealing all to Bob and Carol might have in any way helped them with their problem.



She did admit that she had noticed some sort of effect on Bob, and yes she had seen something swelling inside his trousers. We agreed that it was maybe not such a good idea to go on too much in the coming days about our own difficulties and how we had got through them in case it made Bob and Carol feel bad about telling us about their love life. However – we got some sort of an answer within minutes. As Gemma and I were making love, enjoying the feelings of each others’ underwear and long hair and the thrill of our painted lips caressing, we heard something from the bedroom next door.



The bed in there is our ‘second-best’ bed and it does creak at times. We heard a sound as if something was going on, then nothing for a minute, then a loud female -YES!. Maybe we had been some help!



The next few days passed by more normally. The nights were really not very special for Gemma and I at all, just interrupted by sounds of heavy activity in the other bedroom. It seemed we had stirred something in the two of them and generally during the day the two of them seemed more at ease. While they were staying we took Bob and Carol shopping in the more up-market areas of Birmingham, we ate out a couple of times, Bob and I even fitted in a round of golf one afternoon when the weather improved a bit and I managed to pull some strings at the club. We got back at about five to find the girls somewhat excited.



Gemma rushed and kissed me on the cheek.



“OK Alan. Fun time again, we’ve been shopping and Carol has got you a present or two.”



Carol grabbed my hand and dragged me up the stairs into the bedroom.



“Gemma and I were talking after you had gone out, Alan, and we decided. Both Bob and I would like to meet ‘Alice’ again, so I asked Gemma about buying you a dress – for a present. She told me about one you mentioned you’d seen a couple of weeks ago. It does took gorgeous, we’ve just GOT TO see you wearing it, Alan. And I want to help. Gemma agreed to let me do your make-up and so on. So. Strip, Alan, have yourself a shower, I’ve put some special shower gel on the shelf in the bathroom. So go to it. Girl!”



“Carol, Help! Do I have any say in this, I mean and what about Bob? What has he got to say about this?”



“Bob is going to love it, believe me. Certainly if the other night is anything to go by. Gemma has agreed. We haven’t even started on dinner so unless you want to starve tonight get a move on. I’ll be back up in ten minutes, Gemma and I have got some of your stuff out for you already.”



So I was stuck. Ganged up on. What Bob would make of it I didn’t know but I admit I was excited again at the thought of dressing in company. I had eventually enjoyed the evening earlier in the week. And I knew the black dress Carol had mentioned, Gemma had told me a couple of weeks earlier she wanted me to get it but I hadn’t had the chance to buy it yet. So I did set to it, the shower gel was indeed rather luxurious and very sweet-smelling. Very feminine. When I had shaved carefully – twice – I dashed into the bedroom and slid my panties on, pulling them up tightly to tuck my private parts in as tightly as possible.



Then I lay on the bed and carefully stuck my breast-forms in place. The previous occasion I had only slipped them into my bra but this time I wanted them to be secure, and more than that, carefully made-up to hide the edges. I did the make-up while I was waiting for Carol. Gemma was better at the facial cosmetics but I really had got the task of covering the seams round my ‘breasts’ down to a fine art. It was just very thin careful ‘plastering’ really! Carol was amazed at the sight when she did come into the bedroom a few minutes later.



“Wow, Alan, they look so good. I can’t see the join. It’s a good thing Bob isn’t here to see this at the moment. OK, get your bra on.”

After I’d done this I turned – to see Carol holding out a black satin ‘bustier’ – some sort of waist corset which was designed to hold me inwards in the right places.



“Er – Carol, I don’t really need that do I?”



“You wait, Alan. You haven’t seen the dress we’ve got for you yet.”



So I stepped into the bustier and pulled it up, round my waist, it reached up to just below my ‘tits’. And then Carol, from behind me, pulled the cords really tight – and nearly cut me in half. I grunted in surprise and exhaled at which point Carol pushed me in the back with one hand and pulled even tighter with the other. This time I did cry out.



“Alan, don’t worry, you need to do this. You need a tiny waist to look your best, believe me.”



I slowly recovered and began to breathe again, then I could speak.



“Streuth Carol, is this really necessary?”



“It is if you are going to fit into a size 10″



“A 10? Why on earth did you buy me a size 10. I’m a 14 really, though I can just about get into Gemma’s size 12 stuff sometimes. Why?”



“Because we had to get it, Alan, and it was in a sale, and the shop only had this size available in black, this or a 16. You just have to have a little black dress, every woman does, and you are going to look so good, believe me.”



She kept on saying that, I was not convinced. However I realised I had to go along with this and I was warming to the idea. Over the next twenty minutes Carol carried on with the transformation of Alan into Alice. She was obviously well primed by Gemma, knew where everything was and what to do for maximum effect. And she had a few ideas of her own.



“The 7-denier seamed black hold-ups were my idea, Alan, so that suspender buttons don’t spoil the line of the dress. They are long-line too, so they won’t show if you cross your legs. And the earrings, I got them for you. They’re only cheap costume stuff but they do the job very well, sort-of diamante pendants, they look really nice. Match the choker too, in the right light they’ll glisten as if they cost a million. Now, let me help you to get the wig on and the shoes, then let’s see how the make-up looks.”



The wig went on carefully, then the shoes. They amazed me. Gemma had decided I needed something a little more glamorous a couple of weeks ago, but these, well. They were high heels. VERY high heels, maybe 5″ or 6″, black patent stilettos. When I stood I was surprised how well I managed, walking around in them instantly as if I had worn heels like those all my life. At last Carol let me look in the mirror. I was amazed! Totally! She had done a good job, in fact she had done a brilliant job. The jewellery did sparkle and the whole effect, sexy black underwear and high heels, with the rather heavier and more provocative make-up than I usually wore in the house.



Something stirred down below when I looked at my reflection. I looked pretty good and I knew it. What would Gemma say to this?



“Carol, you have done a brilliant job, really, I’d never have believed it”



“Neither would I,” said a voice behind me. It was Gemma who had crept up the stairs and in to have a look. “I just wondered how you were getting on – and I see the answer is ‘famously’. Alice, you look sensational. OK Carol, where’s this dress you’ve got for my husband?”



Carol opened the wardrobe door and took out the dress on its hanger. Both Gemma and I breathed in loudly when we saw it. It was black, yes. But black p.v.c., and very short, and very small. Size 10 maybe but there was not a lot to it, Carol slid it off the hanger and pulled down the zip at the back.



“Right now, it is Alice now, isn’t it? Step into this and I’ll fasten it for you, let’s see how it looks.”



I stepped into the skirt and Carol tugged it up over my bum. I stretched my arms into the tight-fitting sleeves, then Carol zipped it up the back – not very far. And reached behind my neck to fasten the halter neck clip there. She fussed over the dress for a while, making sure I was tucked in properly and my bra was not visible. But an awful lot of my breasts were, it really was plunging between them, that dress and the bustier between them worked together to give huge bulging melons at the front. The back wasn’t much better, though my hair hung down below my shoulders there was a fair amount of bare skin showing.



I knew the answer I wanted to hear but I just had to ask, “Carol, can I get away with this, I mean, it’s rather risqué isn’t it?”



“Risqué?” butted in Gemma, “Alice, it’s positively obscene, it’s fucking lethal. I don’t know how you’ve managed it between the two of you but you’ve produced a sex kitten. Bob is going to positively love you, Alice.”



Bob! What would he think. I mean it was one thing to put on a skirt and a blouse and some make-up and to play at being a woman in the bedroom. But like this, heck, a couple of hours earlier I had been playing golf with him. This was something else.



“OK Alice, we’ll find out in a moment. Gemma, we’ll come down in a couple of minutes, I’ve got Alice’s makeup to finish and his – I mean her – nails to do. And – er – Gemma – that other thing we talked about. What do you think?”



Gemma looked at me carefully, then turned to Carol. “Are you sure?”



“Yes I am.”



“OK,” was all she said, and went out and down the stairs.



Carol sat down next to me to sort out my nails, it was a task I always enjoyed but usually found difficult, especially the end stages when I had seven or eight nails fitted. And that would certainly have been the case here. Carol wasn’t using sticky pads, she was gluing them on. And they weren’t my usual slightly longish nails, these were well over an inch long and they were scarlet.



“OK now, let’s finish you off, Alice, another coat of lipstick and liner pencil, then gloss. Then we’re done. Now. Have a final look.”



I did so and was not at all disappointed, the look was even more glamorous than before. Carol handed me a small black purse – I turned and looked once more in the long mirror. Internally I was terrified but really I was so thrilled. I had wanted to try to ‘look’ female, ever since Gemma and I had started dressing me up. And now I had my dream come true. I beamed at Carol.



“Wow, you really have done a great job, thank you so much.”



“OK Alice. Let’s see what Bob thinks.”



Now for the crunch. I carefully walked down the stairs, coping with the impossibly high heels better than I would have thought, and went into the lounge. I saw Gemma first, it was the first time she had seen the ‘full’ me. Then I saw Bob and he saw me. He stood up and gulped.



“Streuth Alan, you look totally sensational,” he said with real feeling, I could tell he meant it.



Carol had followed us down the stairs and gone past us, she turned and offered a whisky and a gin to us.



“Let me be your waitress this time, Alice. Please, sit down on the sofa you two, I want to see you together.”



So we did, we sat down side by side. Gemma and Carol were looking at us, it was Carol who spoke first.



“I’m sorry, Gemma, there’s no way I could dress Bob up in any way to look nearly as good as Alan does, he’s far too wide and much too tall. I mean in heels like those he’d be about 6 foot 10 nearly. And he’s too broad. But they do make a lovely couple don’t they.”



I may well have blushed, sitting there next to Bob, my legs crossed and showing off my nylon-clad thighs.



“You’re right” said Carol, “but I still think Bob can get some more fun out of this situation. Apart from what you have been doing in bed the past few nights that is.”



It was Bob’s turn to look embarrassed. “Sorry you two but, well, you know, I mean it’s the novelty of it, seeing Alan dressed like he was the other day, I mean, he looked really gorgeous. And he looks even better today doesn’t he?!”



Gemma stood up and disappeared upstairs for just a few moments, coming back holding her silk jacket, the one I had bought for her on a trip to Paris the previous year. “Try this on, Alice.” I did.



“OK you two, come on Bob, you’ve only had the one drink so you should be OK to drive.”



Bob and I looked at each other. Something was going on, and I could tell he didn’t know what it was either. Gemma smiled at us as we stood there side-by-side.



“Bob, you’d better take your car. Carol and I are going to change just a little more formal. I told you we weren’t cooking tonight, you’re going out with Alice. How about the ‘Grey Fox’, you’re not likely to meet anybody who knows either of you there. Don’t look like that, Alan, you know you really want to, don’t you? And we both want to see how you get on.”



Bob and I both realised simultaneously. They’d arranged a ‘date’ for us! We both, together, almost in synchronised voices, called out together ‘No’. But we hadn’t a chance. The two girls had decided. And though I was a little loath to admit it I was secretly in ecstasy just thinking about it. Being seen, in public, wearing such a promiscuous outfit. And with a man too. I couldn’t really tell what Bob thought about it but, just over fifteen minutes later we were walking hand-in-hand from the car park to the pub.



“Alan, look, we have to go through with this, let’s just get it over with. A couple of drinks and then we can go back to your house. OK?”



“OK Bob. As you say. But please, go along with this will you. I really don’t want to be caught, you know. I’d absolutely die of embarrassment even with strangers. Please, play along will you?”



I squeezed Bob’s hand to try to encourage him. Looking into his eyes I think I had misinterpreted what he was saying, he looked somewhat horrified. I realised it was the squeeze which had done it, a show of affection, not appropriate in the situation. But we still had to go ahead with this.



“Please Bob.”



He relented, just a little. As we approached the door he reached out to hold it open for me and smiled.



“After you, Alice.”



And I walked in. Into the pub. The Grey Fox, the lounge bar of. So there I was, with a man beside me holding my hand. A rather attractive man, I realised. And I saw the heads turn. To look at me. To look at my figure, my face, my hair, my legs. Inspecting all of me. And they saw a woman. I recognised the looks on the men’s faces, after all I’d done it myself, stared at a woman entering a room, looked and imagined myself with her. But there was more. I looked across at Bob. He was beginning to smile and I knew exactly where he was coming from. After all I’d been in that situation too.



Walking into a pub or a restaurant with Gemma, I’d felt pride as other men looked at my date, my woman, wanting her, it had made me feel good. And I wanted Bob to feel good too. I slipped my hand from his and took his arm, smiling across at him. He realised. I had to play a part too. We walked over to the bar. The barman came over to us immediately, even though I could see there were a couple of other customers he should have served first.



I smiled again at Bob and put on what I hoped was my very best and sexiest ‘Alice’ voice, “I think I’ll have a gin-and tonic, darling.”



Bob ordered my drink and a double scotch for himself, I realised he was probably more nervous than me, he had decided he needed a double. Which was surprising really, considering I was the one who was taking the real risk. I mean, I did stand out somewhat. There weren’t many guys who went out for the evening with another guy, at least not dressed as I was. From the bar I could see my reflection in the darkened window at the other side of the room. Not clearly but I could make out the main features, the tight revealing dress, the long legs and ultra-high heels, the long wavy blonde hair, the provocatively made-up face. I looked. And I thought ‘I like this’! I did.



The whole feminine appearance was turning me on, I could feel the tightness of my trapped organ between my legs. As I sat and crossed my legs, feeling my hem slide up a little over my thighs I realised the effect it was having. Not just on me but on several of the men in the room, they were getting excited too. I realised the feeling of power a woman can have over a man, appealing to his sexual instincts. My previous exploits had all been at home with Gemma. But here and now, this was something different.



I sipped my drink slowly, revelling in the experience and, to some extent, playing at it. Like when I noticed one guy looking at me, I slid my hand up along my thigh, glorying in the sensation as my long red nails moved erotically over my nylon-clad thighs, and I watched him squirm. And again as I teased another man by slowly circling my red lips with my tongue, my eyes smiling at him as I teased him to some extent. Bob settled into it too. We talked quietly, about what we felt like, he said that he had got turned on the other night and that he and Carol had better sex than they had done for a while.



He got us another drink and began to really warm to the experience. Then – he put his hand on my knee. I actually think he did it because he wanted to but he quickly leaned over to speak quietly to me.



“Alan – er Alice, I mean. We have to keep up the appearance, don’t we? Maybe we should be going soon.”



He didn’t need to say that – suddenly Carol and Gemma were there, beside us.



“Look, you two, I think you’ve done enough for now. And I’m just beginning to get a little worried about Bob’s motives,” said Gemma. “He’s had several drinks already and I know from experience what that can lead to. Come on Alice, Bob can’t drive, I’ll take you home, Carol can drive Bob.”



As she pulled into out drive some way ahead of Carol in our car, Gemma turned to me. “Well Alice, I could tell you enjoyed yourself. I knew you would. I’m really not sure how to react to seeing the two of you together, but if later on you and Bob – well – you know …”



She left the sentence unfinished. I was shocked. What had she just said? Had she really just given her permission for me and Bob – me and her husband, that is, to – well, it didn’t bear thinking about. I mean Bob was a guy, after all, and me? I was just a little confused. And I suppose I might have stayed confused until, ten minutes later as we all sat in our lounge again, having another drink, Bob put his hand on my leg again, and gently squeezed it!



It was my reaction which, thinking about it afterwards, was surprising. I looked across at Gemma to see her watching us – she smiled at me. I was feeling so aroused at that moment, the whole evening, the dressing, the drinks, the feelings in the pub, they all combined in my mind, I felt I knew at least something about what it must feel like to be a woman. To be looked at, maybe even admired, maybe even lusted after. I looked into Bob’s eyes – and I saw lust, and I couldn’t help myself. I leaned over towards him and, ever so gently, touched my lips to his. I wasn’t sure whether it was something I wanted to do but it was definitely something he wanted, I had seen that. And it was definitely pleasant at least, he responded by gripping my thigh harder and sliding his other hand round my waist to pull me towards him.



Our lips pressed together a little harder, then I pulled back. In my sexy voice I spoke.



“Wow, Bob darling, that was great. How about more?”



I moved in again and this time Bob definitely responded, sliding his hand right up inside my skirt and opening his own mouth to admit my probing tongue. This wasn’t just kissing, it was necking, and more still. I could feel the reaction inside his trousers as he became aroused and, out of sight of Carol and Gemma, my own right hand reached down to caress the bulge. This was moving into new territory.



It was Carol who spoke next, moving us not just into new territory but right off the planet.



“Er – Alice. Gemma and I had rather wanted to stay up for a while to watch a movie on TV. It’s a real weepy – Sleepless in Sacramento or something like that. You could stay and watch it with us if you like. But if you two want to – er – go somewhere else – don’t let us keep you.”



As we separated slightly I watched Bob. He had realised what was being said and, despite now being rather drunk, he rebelled against it. I could tell what he was thinking – he knew the ‘awfulness’ of what he had just done, he’d been kissing a guy, and in front of both our wives at that. And worse still I knew he had actually been enjoying it. And now, amazingly, his wife was actually giving me permission to make a move on him. Seriously. The total unexpectedness of the situation amazed me. Did I want to?



YES! I knew I had to take charge. I leaned over to gently slide my creamy lips over his briefly, then stood up and provocatively slid my hands down my sides to straighten my skirt, wriggling my bulging tits as I did so.



“Like what you see, Bob, my darling?” I picked up my handbag and leaned right down over Bob so that he couldn’t help staring right down my deep cleavage. “Do you, Bob? Fancy me do you?”



His breathing became heavier, mine too became rather erratic as I realised that it was me having this effect on him. OK I was surprised but I was also thrilled. It was me, Alice, who excited him. He wanted me, I know he did, but it was as a woman I had such an effect on him. I looked him in the eyes, he smiled. Yes, he wanted me too. I leaned over and whispered quiet in his ear.



“Are you up for this Bob, I can tell you are feeling really randy, your cock is swelling something massive in those trousers. How about it then? Am I woman enough for you?”



His initial reaction was one of surprise, of pulling back from the brink of wherever we were. But I was ready for that. As I sat down again next to him on the sofa. I turned my body towards him and slid my right leg right across his lap giving him an eyeful of my ‘fuck-me’ stiletto, my long black seamed stocking and a tantalising glimpse of bare thigh above my exposed stocking top. He really had no choice, he just had to reach down and grab my leg just below the knee.



I was ready, I wriggled so that his hand slid up over my knee towards my thigh, at the same moment covering his mouth with mine and working on it with my creamy red lips. Suddenly he did lose control, his own lips opened to admit my playful tongue. I wriggled more and felt his other hand begin to tease my breast through my thin tight dress.



“Is that OK my darling? How about it then?”



“Christ Alan – er – Alice, I don’t know. I really want – heck, I really do – want to ….”



He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t express his desire. So I did it for him. I stood up and reached down to pull his hand towards me and spoke, very invitingly.



“Come on, Bob my darling. Time for bed.”



Had I just said that? Of course I had! I was on cloud nine, revelling in the effect of my feminine wiles, on the guys in the bar and now on my best friend Bob. I wanted him. I didn’t look at the girls, just pulled Bob vertical and dragged him, not too unwillingly, after me. And up the stairs into the master bedroom. The room where Gemma and I had made love so passionately and erotically so many times. But now I was going to have a different experience.



I just didn’t give Bob time to think.



“Bob, my darling, can you unzip me please?” I asked, turning my back to him and moving close.



I expected him just to start to undress me but he had suddenly gotten into the swing of things himself. His right hand snaked round my waist and up to cup my right breast, his head buried in my neck as he kissed me. I turned and flung my arms round his neck. “Jeez, Bob, that is SO good!”



“Christ, Alan – Alice. YES!!”



We kissed again, hard again, and I felt Bob’s big hands pull on the zip of my dress behind me. I stood back and slid my arms out, letting the dress slide to the ground, then stepped out of it. I stood there, in basque and hose, heels and panties, just feeling ever-so-sexy. I could tell simply by looking down at Bob that he felt so too. I reached down and unzipped his pants, then slid my hand in and grasped his erect penis. It was the most gorgeous cock I had ever had the pleasure of touching – in fact apart from my own it was the first.

“Er – is this for a man?”



She surprised me. Elaine that is, the woman at ‘Transform’. How the hell had she known? I mean it was really for me but I had to admit there was a man involved. About 35, slightly plump but well built. I didn’t know his name but – yes, this was for him. But how had she known? I’d come into the store an several hours earlier and asked the question nearly every tranny wanted an answer to.



“Elaine. You know, maybe you don’t remember, you said last time I came in for a dressing session. That in the right light and with the right make-up I could look really female? That if I was willing to go all the way, for a really sexy look, you could hide the maleness? Well did you really mean that?”



Elaine had looked me over again once more, carefully. Then she had filled my heart with delight.



“Yes I did. Not quite in full daylight honey but in artificial light or maybe in the evening, you know, if you were willing to go – all the way.”



“All the way?” I asked, not being totally sure what she meant.



“Well we’d have to make sure absolutely everything about you which could be considered male was in some way masked. Ultra-close shave, long feminine wig, you know, make up and jewellery taken to extremes so that you’d look like – well – a bit of a tart, to be honest. So dolled up you couldn’t possibly be male.”



“And you could do that?”



“At a price, yes but it would take time honey. Three or four hours maybe.”



Three or four hours? I’d waited years for the chance, what did that matter?



“OK. Go for it”.



And indeed we’d gone for it. As I waited for the clock to tick round to 8 o’clock my mind went back a week.



************************************



….. back to the Friday before, when Marcia had told me she’d had a phone call from an old school friend of hers, Fiona, that Fiona’s husband was supposed to be taking her to Nice for a few days but he’d had a sudden rush on at work and couldn’t make it. And would Marcia like to join her for the trip. All paid for, sorry about the short notice.



‘Would I mind?’ Marcia had asked me.



Mind? The thought of – for several days, on my own, able to – well, you know…… Could I? Of course I fucking could.



“Well it’s a great opportunity, go on, do it, don’t mind me, I can manage for a while on my own.”



I hadn’t had so much time on my own since we’d been married, over ten years earlier. Hadn’t had a chance to – well, you know …….



************************************



…. back to the Saturday, Marcia out shopping all morning, quick dash for new clothes, travel stuff and so on.



************************************



…. back to the Sunday and Monday and Tuesday, helping Fiona to pack and to make sure she had everything she’d need.



************************************



…. back to the Wednesday, leaving work early so I could drive Marcia to the airport, to meeting Fiona again, to watching their plane take off. And planning all I was going to do in the time I had to myself. Dashing home, then a long hot bath and total body hair depilation. Worry about explaining to Marcia later.



After the bath, eagerly anticipating the evening’s fun. Fun? Yes fun but a different sort of fun this time. I was going OUT! I’d headed straight for the bath when I got home to wash away all my male smells. Getting out of the bath I wrapped myself in a thin negligee and then began the process of becoming Bethany. I shaved my face incredibly closely, hot water, new razor etc. Twice. Then I went to the spare bedroom where I had all my ‘Bethany’ items spread out on the bed and hung in the wardrobe.



I tucked my cock and balls between my legs before pulling up my lacy black panties, then pulled on my waist nipper to reduce my waist to just about 24 inch. The padded Wonder-bra gave me a bust many women would be pleased with. At each stage I rather vainly admired myself in the mirror, checking I looked just right. Next came the stockings, black and sheer, so flattering. Then it was time for my make-up. I sat at the dressing table and spent over an hour getting the look right. Just a little bit tarty but classy is how I would describe it. Black eye-liner, mascara, bright red lips are all part of the look. I have two wigs, one blonde, one black, I chose the blonde one, shoulder length and curly. I did my stick-on fake finger nails and my favourite colour of nail polish, a deep cherry red, just the sort of thing a ‘professional’ woman might wear.



Cosmetics completed, I add some jewellery; two gold bracelets, a thin gold anklet, a necklace and ear-rings, of course. I love big hoop dangly ear-rings.



Strange that I always do jewellery before I dress but that’s the way it is. Within minutes I was indeed dressed, in one of my wife’s ‘business’ suits, a deep charcoal colour with an extremely thin white stripe in it. Skirt – short but not too short, and the cream blouse revealing just a little of my enhanced boobs. Just a little, when I had the jacket open which I did. A quick spray of perfume and was ready for the evening.



That very first outing, I’d researched it well. The car park was usually deserted in the evenings, in the daytime it served the council offices to the west and, in the school holidays of course, the small area of parkland to the east. But after about 7 o’clock it was empty, nobody there except maybe one or two cars for people dog-walking in the park, even though they weren’t supposed to do that in the public park. To the south, the service road and to the north, well, one of the attractions.



The toilets, there for the park-goers in the summer and for anyone else caught short in the car park. I’d done my research, called in on my way home and a couple of times later in the evenings. I knew exactly what time the old guy came along to lock them, I’d reckoned that at that time of year I could drive there, wander around in the open air unseen for maybe half an hour in the gathering dusk and still be on my way about twenty minutes before he turned up. Just in case he was early.



Ok so I couldn’t really pass as a woman but in the absence of company I could ‘be’ female in that one way, have just one small quantity of vicarious fun.



I could go into the ‘Ladies’.



OK, I know it sounds silly but life’s like that isn’t it? I mean, people spent fortunes on little glass-like lumps of minerals or chasing an inflated sphere of plastic or leather around, why the hell couldn’t I have my own bit of stupid fun, just going into the Ladies’ toilets wearing a skirt?



OK, so I was ready. I peered out of the window, looked up and down the street, nobody about, that’s one of the advantages of suburbs, nobody walks at least not much. A car passed, then it was quiet again. OK, now for it. With speed but not haste I grabbed my bag and my keys, slipped out of the front door and into the car and drove off, along the street, past the shops, nobody gave the car a second glance, and I was out of town heading for the parkland and for ‘my’ car park. True to form when I arrived it was totally empty, everyone at home watching the soaps or the football or whatever, just me, alone, ready for my first, my very first, ‘public’ outing.



OK, not really public. There were a few houses along the path behind the ‘toilets’ side of the car park square, anyone looking out of their upstairs windows would get a good view of whoever was in the car park. But from that distance I was totally certain they wouldn’t be able to tell my true gender. My height was my only problem really but in only 4″ heels I was no taller than many other tall women, I knew I could get away with that. Nobody would be dashing out of their house to run across and taunt a sad ‘tranny’ on her first outing.



I parked, not right up against the building but about forty yards away, I wanted to – well, you know.



And I did. I opened the car door and experienced for the first time the thrill of exposure as I watched my nylon-clad leg step out onto the gravel. My skirt rode up a little – I shivered at the excitement of it all. I stood and reached down for my bag, then slung it over my shoulder and slid my long red-tipped fingers down my skirt to smooth it out. I blipped the car alarm and set off walking, towards the building I could see so far away. The sound of my high heels on the tarmac, the swish of my skirt as I stepped out in short steps, the skirt restricting my movements, the feeling of the slight breeze across my hair, the gorgeous bounce of my false boobs as my feet hit the floor, all these experiences, all the aspects of dressing I’d read about in other TV tales or stories on the Net, I was there, myself, experiencing them all.



I approached the door, the portal to a world I’d never before been able to enter, the ‘Ladies’! I pulled the handle and walked in. OK so it wasn’t all that different from the ‘Gents’, except there was no trough, and more cubicle doors. And in here at least the mirrors above the basins were in better condition, maybe it’s intrinsic to gender, the vandalism that is, OK there was some but overall the facilities were in better condition that in the equivalent establishment next door. I knew. I’d been in there too. But for now, I was a ‘Lady’, entitled to be there, I glimpsed my reflection and smiled internally. I liked what I saw.



I took a few moments to look around, not that I needed to perform in there at all. I’d made sure of that before I’d come out, didn’t want to be caught short in any way like that. I took my lipstick from my bag and leaned over the small basin to freshen up in the mirror, again not that I needed to of course but it felt good. Then I turned, opened the door again and stepped out, heading towards my car.



I’d had a totally awful thought that it might be stolen while I was in there, it did seem awfully vulnerable all alone in the car park. But as I emerged into the dusk, all set to walk back proudly and femininely and drive home in a very self satisfied way, I looked. The car wasn’t alone. There was another one. I listened, I heard the engine stop, I saw the car door open and a guy get out and head towards me. Obviously he had done just what I had been determined not to do, he was indeed ‘caught short’ and needed the loo!



I realised afterwards that it would have been so easy to get out of it, simply to turn and go back in, let him reach his own destination, then skip out to my car and drive off. But I just didn’t think of that. I was so set on getting to my own car that it just didn’t occur to me to change direction. Walking towards my own car. And almost directly towards this guy. I couldn’t help it, I was trapped, I had to go through with this.



I tried to concentrate as I walked. It was indeed just beginning to get dark, maybe I could get away with this, maybe he wouldn’t notice. I strolled on, about half-way there we approached each other. Should I speak? English diffidence took over, no I wouldn’t, I’d just walk straight past him. But – he was looking at me. From five yards away, he was looking.



“Evening.”



That was all he said. The one work. Not even a ‘good’ in front, though that was understood in his words, he’d cut it short. But I had to reply. Hell, I had to get the voice right.



“Good evening”



The very first two words I’d spoken to anyone ‘as a woman’. And I thought there and then that I had got away with it, I just kept on walking, noticing a brief smile as he walked right past me, giving him a quick smile back as my heart pounded fourteen to the dozen. I’d done it, got away with it, not just walked, swung my boobs, showed off, basically to myself but I’d also indulged in ‘social intercourse’ in some sort of way, OK all I’d done was say ‘good evening’ to a guy but that counted, didn’t it?



I was shivering with excitement a little as I drove back home, I calmed down and sneaked into the house. I had that sorted out, how to park just under the tree beside our drive so that I couldn’t be seen by any neighbours who just happened to be there.



I stripped, changed and spent an hour in front of the TV with a beer, contemplating my very first real ‘outing’ as a woman. I’d loved it. I wanted to do it again and I knew I was going to. The next night, in fact. I couldn’t miss the opportunity. Nearly twenty-four hours later I was dressed – again. Almost the same outfit, different blouse though, same suit again same stockings, same shoes, same anticipation. The same venue, I’d thought, just to do that again would give me such a buzz.



I pulled into the car park at just about the same time, empty again, this really was a good spot for it. I parked in the same place and enjoyed again the thrill of swinging my nylon-covered legs out of the car onto the tarmac. I stood and closed the door and turned towards the small building on the edge of the car park. I stopped. Another car was coming into the car park. Not in itself amazing but – it was the same car as yesterday, I was sure. Yes, same colour, same make, same model, same registration number I thought. The door opened. Same man! He was looking towards me.



In that situation it’s obvious to me now what I should have done. Turn round, get back into the car and drive off. Get out of there quickly. But I didn’t. I’d ‘passed’ as I’d walked past this guy yesterday. I could do it again. OK, he might think it odd that the same woman was there visiting the loo again. It never occurred to me to wonder why the same man was there. I was just thinking ‘I gotta do this again’.



So I did. I slung the chain of my bag over my shoulder, breathed in, and put my best be-stockinged and high-heeled foot forward, strolling as steadily as I could towards this guy and past him towards the toilet building. As I passed him he turned and reached into the car, we didn’t do any sort of conversation this time but we did when I returned after doing my lipstick again. After spending a minute or two inside the toilets I’d come out again and set off to walk past this guy towards my car.



“Evening again” he’d said, smiling once more at he but without a hint of recognition.



I mean he obviously did recognise me as the woman he’d seen the previous day but there was no indication that I’d been ‘read’.



“Hello” I muttered and strode past him to my car, getting in and driving off once again in some sort of disturbed state.



But happy, oh so happy, that I’d done this again. But I did ponder somewhat about the guy, why he was there. Trying to put myself in his shoes, to think why he was there. Maybe he DID go there every single night, a brief stop-over on his way home, not too keen to get back to the wife. Or maybe it was just co-incidence. Or. Just maybe. Maybe he’d liked what he’d seen that first evening and come back on the off-chance of having another look. Would I have done that, if I’d seen such a woman in such circumstances? Probably not. But maybe I would have.



That Thursday night I tossed and turned. I was certainly going to ‘dress’ the next night, had to, it was my last chance for a while. But – in what way? I was certainly going out again but where? Somewhere different? Or the same place? And If I chose the same place, did I want that guy to be there again? I decided. Yes I did. And this evening was going to be a little different. I had the excuse, end of the week, people dressed differently at the weekends. That business suit had stood me in good stead for three evenings but this time I could wear something else. Something less formal. More attractive maybe?



Which is how I ended up, that Friday evening, in ‘Transform’ at 5 o’clock, asking Elaine, seeking her opinion and her expertise. And dressing up like I’d never dressed up before. That’s when she asked me.



THE question.



“Er – is this for a man?”



I had to think. I couldn’t deny it. But I didn’t really want to admit it, it was too big a step. Tranny? Yes. Bi-curious? Maybe. But did I actually want to dress for a man? I daren’t admit it.



“Well, in a way.”



That was all I could say really. And I was ready, Elaine had done a good job on me. I stood there ready, beside the door, I took one last look in the mirror, to try to convince myself that this was going to work. Like many trannies I really did think that in the right circumstances I could pass convincingly as a woman. True or not, I did believe that, it was the reason for my question to Elaine, the reason for spending all that money and time in the ‘Transform’ store that afternoon. And now, just before 8 o’clock in the evening on a fine Friday evening in early summer, I knew I was as ready as I was ever going to be.



The business suit was gone, as was the smart cream blouse and the foam pads inside my bra. This time I’d gone for the real thing. It had cost me several hundreds of pounds but it was worth it. Silicone breast forms combined with tight black full-discipline basque to give me a much more desirable feminine figure. A tight slinky white top, with a plunging neckline revealing a deep dark impressive-looking cleavage, tight black mini-skirt, leather with a wide gold belt matching my choice of jewellery, rings and earrings, two bracelets and a necklet. The same wig, I couldn’t really change that, after all I was supposed to be the same woman though dressed up for the weekend, but Elaine had done a great job on my makeup, it was lovely, coal-black mascara to finish off my almond-shaped eyes, deep glossy lipstick to match my extra-long nails.



I really did feel as ‘lovely’ as I had ever done before. Elaine had been right, I was sure. OK I looked a tart but a female tart, at least that was my own opinion. A tranny like me couldn’t have asked for more. I slipped on the black jacket I’d brought with me, picked up the bag containing my ‘drab’ clothes, and stepped out onto the street.



“Good luck” called Elaine. I was going to need it.



I had parked as close to the front door of the shop as possible, so that without running or calling attention to myself I could get to the car and into the driver’s seat. I turned the key and drove off. Starting out from there instead of from home meant that I had further to go to get to my intended destination but that didn’t worry me. Safely cocooned in my car, I drove along the outer ring road round to the motorway and headed south. My heart was still fluttering, but I was having the very best time, looking round at the other cars, hoping nobody would spot anything wrong if they saw me. I was safe in the knowledge that I couldn’t very well be approached while we were all on the move.



As I came off the motorway I checked the time. Just right, a couple more miles, then I pulled into ‘my’ car park and looked round. Yes. He was there! The maroon hatchback was parked in the same spot as on the previous three nights. I drove past and pulled into my own by-now-regular parking bay. I switched off my engine, checked how I looked as well as I could in the pull-down mirror and smiling as I saw my long red talons pushing the dark blonde curls away from my face. Ready!



I opened the door and slid my long stockinged legs out for the last time, appreciating the fact that I was showing a lot more thigh in my tight micro-skirt. I stood and closed the door, slung my bag over my shoulder, and locked up. I turned. The next few minutes was about to be the highlight of my cross-dressing life, walking past HIM.



I set off, yet again appreciating the breeze on my nylon-clad legs but this time there was more. My heels were higher, totally slutty 6″ black patent stilettos, my skirt was shorter and tighter, my tits seemed much bigger and heavier and though I say it myself, very well presented. Aren’t Wonder-bras superb? I strode out in short-ish steps, restricted by the tightness of both my basque and my tiny leather skirt, I was loving it. As I approached THE car, the guy inside got out and stood by the door. I strode on and looked towards him.

DAY ONE



I got in from taking Carol to the airport at just after 8, it was beginning to get dark. Late September, winter would be here soon. But I had a weekend on my own while she accompanied an ageing aunt to her own sister’s funeral in Glasgow. Carol had volunteered, she liked the aunt and did not insist on my going with her.



So I was on my own. What to do this weekend? My main interest was very regrettably ruled out, I needed a substitute. Well maybe not, I could see what was happening on my favourite chat-line, maybe have a decent conversation or two. I switched on the PC and made a coffee while it loaded, then logged onto the Internet and started the program. When it connected me to the server I accessed the channel and looked down the list of the ‘girls’ chatting.



‘Girls’? Yes, like me. I am a transvestite, a man who like to dress up sometimes. In women’s clothes that is, sometimes the lot, bra and panties, high heels, make up, everything. OK, some people may think it weird but I don’t, in fact many of us don’t. We are basically ordinary people, don’t do anyone else any harm, just like our ‘hobby’.



I say ‘our’ hobby but I am not a social TV (that’s short for transvestite). Strictly solo, me. I looked down the list, several names, mainly girls’ names though I knew they were all really men, like me. I’m Ben actually, but I use the name ‘Bethany’ online.



I tried a brief chat with in the chat-room but she had to go soon after, then started up a chat. But I soon realised ‘she’ was not really serious about dressing, probably just a gay guy pretending, looking for some sex.



Then.



Hi there Bethany



Sara! Now that was a name I knew, and knew well. He was a guy called Richard and we had some great fun chatting and emailing to each other.



Hello there Sara. How are you?



We even swapped stories, tales about TVs which we had written, and indeed collaborated on some, writing alternate chapters to try to excite each other.



I am fine. You? What are you up to?



It was the same boring start to chats, but polite I suppose. I typed back.



Fine here but on my own, Carol is away all weekend so I thought I would chat to someone. Are you dressed?



Which, to a TV, means are you dressed in your ‘hobby’ clothes, bra and panties, high heels etc. Actually, I say hobby – which it was to me – though to some guys it’s more of a lifestyle, some going for a more substantial transition or a sex change.



Yes, dressed tonight and really feeling good.



In what, please tell.



We always like to hear what other TVs are wearing.



White blouse, see-through, black skirt, black undies, stockings and heels, also have done my makeup and wig.



Wow, sounds great, is Jemma not in then or does she approve of this now?



Jemma is Richard’s wife, she sort-of accepted his dressing to an extent but was not too happy with maybe more extreme expressions of femininity.



Jemma is away with family for the weekend, that’s why I am able to dress fully, go all the way, I feel gorgeous.



I am sure you look it too my darling



Wish you could see me.



Me too. I am on my own too, Carol is away in Scotland until Sunday night.



Are you dressed?



No



Why not? A perfect time to have some fun.



Problems. No wig. I tried spraying it clean last week, and a fair part of it dissolved! It was synthetic, be careful if you try cleaning yours



Was it expensive?



Quite but not very. I should maybe get a decent one, maybe longer and a bit more blonde.



Richard was a nice TV, not like some of the nasties you sometimes come across. An idea was beginning to form in my mind, suddenly it rushed to the front. I started typing furiously



Is Jemma away all night? all weekend?



Gets back Monday lunchtime



Sounds nice. Any commitments, any plans for the weekend?



CONNECTION HAS BEEN TERMINATED. DO YOU WISH TO RECONNECT?



Blast. Sometimes that happens, random glitch in the power supply or something, it just switches off. I rapidly switched my modem off and on and set up the reconnect, then logged on again. I checked the list of girls, Richard was still there.



Sorry about that, very, something switched me off. Back on again Ok. You still there?



Yes



Anything planned for the weekend?



Not really, shopping, some DIY etc. I may get another chance to dress.



We could meet.



There was a pause. I expected that. One of the nasty things about chat-rooms is that you can fool people, especially if they can’t see you (clever geeks nowadays have digital cameras too, but not me or Richard). So people often say or arrange something they have no intention of doing just to see the reaction.



Are you serious?



Yes. Both wives away, is this too good an ‘OPPORTUNITY’?



I had used that word and put in the capitals and inverted commas deliberately, Richard would know what I mean. I had told him on an earlier occasion of my first ‘opportunity’, similar to this, a young TV whose parents were away for the night, I was sitting there dressed as Bethany chatting when ‘he’ suggested a meet. I had been tempted but had chickened out and regretted it ever since. But could it happen now?



Sounds possible. How?



Let me think.



I had been thinking hard ever since I suggested it, coming up with a feasible plan. Like many TVs we had not swapped names or addresses etc, just ‘met’ online and chatted. But I knew he was in Yorkshire and I was in Warwick. Far but not too far, not Portsmouth and Inverness.



Could you drive out now? Dressed? We could meet somewhere between us, say at Trowell service station on the M1? Remember?



Again, I had commented to Richard before. Carol and I had stopped at Trowell Services, on the M1, one evening, it had struck me then it was a perfect meeting place, a bit public and a bit private. And meeting in cars, in the dark, well, if either of us didn’t like it we could just drive off.



Are you REALLY serious?



Capitals on the IRC is shouting! Maybe Richard did want to.



YES



There was another pause.



OK then. When and how?



Tonight. I can be there by 11 o’clock. Can you?



There was yet another pause. Had I scared him (or her) off? (Gender is sometimes difficult to address between TVs!)



Yes. How will we meet?



I had to think quickly again, chances like this were few and far between, I was getting excited by the prospect and was determined not to waste it.



North or Southbound.



North



OK. Not by the main entrance, too many people there maybe, though there won’t be too many at this time on a Friday night. Just by the entrance into the actual car park. OK?



OK



We both stop there, at about 11, it will be fully dark by then.



I typed in the letter and first three numbers, and the colour and make of my car. I KNEW Richard was serious when he replied in kind. This was the first time we had exchanged any real personal data. I was interested, his car was the same year as mine and the same colour. Not the same make but very much an equivalent, it confirmed what I had thought, we really were so similar. I was really beginning to get excited by the thought of this. I had always been a totally ‘solo’ cross-dresser, not into clubs or anything, the thought of meeting someone with the same interest….



Will you tell Carol about this?



Probably not



Actually, certainly not. I think she would be appalled



The trouble sometimes with the chat system is when both people type together, it often confuses the flow. On this occasion I had just pressed the RETURN key to send that comment when, immediately, Richard’s reply appeared on my screen.



I will certainly not be able to tell Jemma, she would be appalled.



I had to smile, indeed Richard and I were SO similar.



What will you wear?



Let’s not discuss that now, I may change my mind if I think about it. I am going to sign off now – and go and get in my car. I may change just a little and refresh my makeup. If I don’t act at once I may back out. Let’s go for it.



OK. Bye XXXX



Bye XXXXX



Transvestites in chat rooms almost always do that, send ‘virtual kisses’ at the end of the chat. I know it sounds silly but, well, again it’s harmless. I sat for a moment to think. Did I realise what I had just let myself in for? YES, definitely. I logged off the channel and switched my machine off, then sat quietly for another moment.



Though I had considered before this sort of thing, I had really never thought it would actually happen. But now I had to. Richard was going to be there, it would be cruel not to rendezvous. After all, he was taking the risk, coming dressed. Not me. I grabbed my jacket from the peg in the hall, checked there was something in my wallet, for emergencies. Locked the back door, and out of the front. My car was still on the drive, I backed out and was off.



I took me longer than I had thought to get there, I drove very carefully, no point in having an accident or getting stopped on an occasion such as this. It was two minutes past when I pulled off the M1 and into the service station. I could see several cars down at the far end of the car park by the actual services. And just one car near the entrance. I swung round and faced it across the access road.



I looked, peered at the number plate. Yes. I switched my lights off. The lights on the other car went on, then off. I hoped he had recognised my number. We both waited, maybe for about fifteen seconds. Then I decided, I opened my door and got out. And as I did so, the door of the other car opened, and – a woman got out. Even in that light I could tell. I could just see the reflection from nylon-clad legs, and from longish smooth hair.



‘She’ paused, hesitating. I decided I should make the move, so shut my own door and walked across.



“Hello Sara”.



“Hi Ben”.



We both just stood for a few seconds.



“Shall we go over and sit in my car” I offered.



Richard didn’t speak, just started to move. We crossed to my car, I held the door open for ‘Sara’ to get in, then went round.



“How was the journey?” I asked – silly start to such a conversation. “I mean, did you get out of the house OK at home. Any problems?”



“No, it was fine” he said. “It was dark already by the time I set off. I got out and away and just kept on going, didn’t have to stop, even at lights, all the way here.”



I knew what he meant, being uncertain how convincing you look and having to stop at traffic lights, specially with a car next to you. I turned to have a proper look, Richard knew he was being ‘inspected’.



“Well then go on, tell me, how do I look?”



It really was difficult in that light, I asked if he would mind if I turned on the interior light, briefly, there were no other cars parked near us. In the better light I gave him a close inspection. The hair, or rather wig, was nice and the makeup was impeccable, GORGEOUS lips and very good eye makeup. Almost no beard line visible. Gold earrings, a white blouse and black skirt to just above the knee. And what seemed to be gorgeous legs, in black stockings or tights with court shoes, about 2″ heels I guessed. And just how good did he look?



“Sara, I am impressed, you gave me the impression you were much bigger than you look, no, really, impressive.”



“And could I pass? Go on. Be honest, I know the answer really.”



I had to think, to give an honest answer without causing too much distress. I looked carefully at the figure beside me. There were so many female characteristics, a few of them ‘original’, many artificial, it really was difficult to give a truly honest answer. I put the internal light on again for a few seconds and looked.



“OK, Sara, what I really see here is a transvestite, but a good one. In these conditions it would be very difficult to make a proper comment. But maybe from a slight distance, not in daylight, maybe you could – pass.”



“Thanks anyway, Ben” came a rather resigned reply.



“Hey, Sara, don’t let it get you down. In so many ways you look really good. And you maybe haven’t prepared fully, this was sprung on you. Wasn’t it?”



“Yeah, yeah”



“No, really Sara. Tell you what. Let us go for a walk. That always gives me a buzz. Just being in one sense out in the open. Just down the car park and back. I guarantee nobody will ‘spot’ you. And what if they do? Anyway, Sara, I have to admit, I want to see those legs!”



I could tell, Richard was rather taken with the idea. He looked round, then at me.



“OK, Ben, I am game if you are!”



We both got out, I went round the car rapidly to ‘help’ him exit, we stood together. I took his hand, which rather surprised him. We set off walking towards the café area, he was a bit nervous naturally and was gripping my hand tight.



“OK Sara?” I asked, remembering my own first such outing. “Don’t worry, no-one will notice”



A car came up behind and passed us. Then another but for some reason this one didn’t go right up to the café, it stopped just in front of us to one side.



“Just keep walking” I whispered.



We walked together, just like any other couple we both hoped, past it. A very tall guy, maybe as much as 6-3, trotted past us, on his way towards the phones. He smiled politely as he passed, looking at me and at my companion. There was absolutely no sign he saw anything wrong, just me and my girlfriend or wife walking towards the café area.



“Evening” I said, and looked at Richard.



He was having a good time, I could tell.



“How are you coping with the shoes?” I asked.



I knew that even low stilettos can cause problems.



“I am coping fine, look Ben, you have done this sort of thing before, I haven’t. Can we go back now? That area in front is pretty bright.”



He was right of course. I led us towards the phones to one side of the main café area, then turned to face Richard so his back was towards the light.



“Just wait there for a moment. OK, now, I’ll come round the other side, we can head back.”



Which is what we did, walking steadily, holding hands, with no problem at all. We went to Richard’s car. We got in and carried on talking for a while, both agreed that our respective wives should NOT be told about this. We just gossiped for maybe a quarter of an hour, about what clothes we have, what we like to wear, where we got them and so on.



“Look, Ben, thanks for turning out like this. It IS my first time you know, and I have to drive back, I think I had better be going.”



“Right Sara. But. I was thinking on my way here, hoping we would get on as well as wondering what you would look like. I hope you enjoyed the outing.”



“Oh yes, well, we didn’t do much did we but, first time, you know.”



“Right. Anyway, as I said, I was thinking. Do you want to meet again tomorrow evening? Another ‘opportunity’ if you see what I mean. Give you time to prepare this time. Do your nails maybe.”



Even in that light I could see Richard was tempted – but unsure.



“Meet here again?”



“Well, I thought – how about coming to our place. It’s quite a drive but maybe not TOO far. I could do a meal, we could be more leisurely, take our time a bit more easily.”



“Sounds like a good idea Ben, but I am not sure.”



“OK, I understand. Maybe you could have a look at my clothes, I have a few more than you, I think, I know some of them will fit.”



That convinced him! He smiled at the thought.



“OK, Sara, let’s leave it at this. You email me early tomorrow morning, by 10? Saying yes or no. I will send details of where and when and how, I have a map on disc we used for a party last year. When you get it, email again to confirm, yes or no. How about that?”



I had given him a way out if needed.



“OK”.



He was going to get in his car, then turned to me.



“Ben”



I turned, he leaned forward and, very gently, gave me a very brief kiss on the lips!



“Thanks”. He got in his car, started up and was off. I stood for a few seconds thinking, then turned and drove home myself. I definitely would not tell Carol about that.



DAY TWO



In the morning, after a slightly restless night’s sleep, I got up later than usual. Normally I’m about before 8 even on a Saturday but that day I surfaced at 9. I don’t know why but I switched on the PC straight away, even before dressing. There was a Hotmail from Sara! Already!



Subject: Tonight



Dear Ben



Yes



Love, Sara XXXXX



That “Love, Sara” may seem odd but it is the way women write to each other, in that case not an unusual form of address. Richard and I had been corresponding, writing stories etc for each other for several months via Hotmail. We had asked questions about TV experiences of each other, both real and our own fantasies and had always, again as is customary in female circles, addressed each other by our ‘femme’ names, Sara and Bethany. But that was the first time he had addressed me as ‘Ben’, I think. Damn that wig, if I hadn’t tried to clean it we could have been dressing together and both offering comments about our ‘look’. But this was different, I was to be the guy hosting a sort-of ‘date’ with a TV friend. I thought it would be best, make Richard more at ease, if in our role-play I were to treat ‘Sara’ almost entirely as a woman.



So how would I prepare for dinner with a woman friend? A close friend, in a way, we had anonymously shared some intimacies about ourselves. I had a couple of ideas, but first I had to reply, to confirm, to show Richard it was all on. I set to writing my e-mail reply and attaching the map I had showing how to get to the house. He had the real job to do that evening, driving all the way from South Yorkshire, probably ‘dressed’. He would want to come in the dark again, I guessed.



From: Sara



To: Bethany



Subject: Tonight



Dear Sara



Great! Map attached shows how to get here. Directions are easy, off the motorway junction it is first left, first left again then first right and you are on our road.



We are 200 yds down on the right, the house number is there, a large number on the gatepost, can’t miss it even in the dark. Pull into the drive immediately after the gatepost. The garage door will be open, my car will be at the side on the left. Drive straight into the garage and turn off. I will close the door behind you and go round to open the back door of the garage, you can get through there and into the back of the house totally unseen (front door is overlooked, I NEVER use it when ‘dressed’.) Arrive by 9.00? That should mean you can set off in the dark. I will have a bit of a meal available, I am VERY MUCH looking forward to seeing you in more comfortable surroundings, though last night WAS fun, I thought so anyway. I will be watching out at 9.



Love, Ben XXXXX



Attachment: “map1.jpg”



I logged on again and sent it, then switched off. It might be a little while before Richard got it and replied, and I had things to do! I was going to prepare as for any other ‘date’ but I was a bit out of practice. The house was tidy, and clean, well it was ‘lived in’ but more than acceptable. I had a big clear up in the kitchen, Carol had left me with a fair bit to do in there and I had been doing other things the previous evening. Then I got the car out for a quick trip to Sainsbury’s.



It took me longer than I thought to shop, I didn’t usually do it on a Saturday morning but I did get everything I wanted. I filled in a little time over lunch cleaning the mower, some other ordinary house things to keep my mind off other things, and to stop myself being in a permanent state of arousal! Then I checked my emails again.

From: Sara



To: Bethany



Subject: Tonight part 2



Dear Ben



Got your details, everything looks OK, very efficient. Please have garage door open at 8.45 in case I am early. If not there by 9.30 there has been a problem, check Hotmail. See you at 9-ish I hope



Lots of love, Sara XXXXX



I started to get ready for the evening at about 5. Prepared the whole meal, OK I was cheating, it was a Sainsbury’s ‘Ready Meal’, just pop in the microwave. But it was one Carol and I had tried before, a quality item, not cheap stuff. I prepared a small Melon Cocktail for starters, melon and cherries and grapes and a clear sauce, and my own speciality, Strawberry Vodka Mousse for dessert. I KNEW that would go down well, it always did with just a little whipped cream.



When I pulled back the door to go in the dining room I realised I had more to do than I thought. Carol had left all our tax papers on the table there, rather mixed up, we had been sorting them on Thursday evening. I was supposed to finish the job. I carefully packed them together so I could spread them again and get on with that task later, the whole pile was soon out of sight in the desk.



Then I laid the table. With the lot, ‘best’ dinner service, side plates, the silver cutlery, place mats, serviettes, candles in the middle, the flowers I had bought, I went all the way in that respect. Then I headed up stairs to get myself ready, once again regretting that I would not be able to greet my guest as ‘Bethany’. But I was still determined the evening would be a success.



I stripped, showered, shaved and dressed and was ready by 8. Then I checked the back room, the spare room where Richard would be able to dress, do his makeup, have a look at the clothes I had in the wardrobe and the dresser there and so on. I sat downstairs for a few minutes, then at 8.30 went out and opened the garage door and checked the side door was unbolted. I was nervous of course, I forced myself to sit and read the paper. One slight alarm when I realised that the wine was not in the fridge. I did that and got the paper again. I couldn’t settle, got up and went to check my e-mails just in case but no messages.



I was JUST beginning to wonder when, at ten past nine, I saw the lights of a car as it pulled into the drive. I dashed out of the front door, and closed the garage behind it, then through the side door, bolted it, and went into the garage. I had left the light on in there, the car WAS Richard’s, he was there!



Despite all that happened that weekend that image will stay in my mind for a long time. As I moved round and the driver’s door opened, I looked down and saw a VERY long and very female leg emerge. I think he had forgotten just for a moment how to get out of a car in a skirt. I saw a lovely glimpse of a black nylon-clad leg, shiny black stiletto maybe 3″ heel, maybe even 4″, the FULL length of leg as the side split in his skirt opened to reveal just a hint of stocking top, then the other leg, and a beautifully manicured hand, with three rings, with longish deep pink nails, appeared. I held it to help Richard stand, he did so, helping himself up by grabbing the car door with the other hand, he was carrying a very nice black soft leather handbag.



I wouldn’t say my heart fluttered, but something did and I have to admit, there was just a little movement between my legs! I was impressed by that first view of ‘Sara’ in full light. Well, in the light in the garage, much brighter than the previous occasion we had met. Richard reached into the back of the car and got his small suitcase, I had expected that, I just KNEW it contained at least one change of clothing he wanted to show me. In true gentlemanly fashion I took the case from him, we got out of the garage and into the kitchen door.



“Go on, straight ahead” I said, we went through into the lounge and I got my first full look at ‘Sara’.



And now – well – I was VERY impressed. He was obviously still nervous, looking round, I looked at what I could see, carefully. The hair was longish, almost to shoulder length, he was wearing big gold earrings, large discs maybe an inch across clipped in place. And the makeup was good. He had really put some time in, I thought, and some care too. The eyebrows were not too bold, the eye makeup was bluish merging to pink under the eyebrows, the mascara was fantastic, very carefully done, with very thin eyeliner on the lower lid. The facial makeup looked smooth and not thick at all, a little blusher, and a gorgeous cupids-bow lips, in a deepish pink which matched the nails very well. I wanted to say something then but didn’t, just kept looking down.



Richard had chosen a ‘business suit’, a style we both liked and had chatted about a lot. A deep grey jacket with quite a wide off-white stripe, over a white shirt/blouse which had the top three buttons undone. The skirt of course went with it, the same material, probably a wool mix I thought, a straight line quite tight over the bum, down to about 5″ above his knees. There was a slit on the right going up about another 5″, I had seen his stockings in the car. They were black, not quite opaque and slightly shiny, he had very shapely legs, and those ankles and shoes, they were very nice, set the outfit off well.



“Well, go on, tell me Ben. Honestly please”



He was being very careful with his voice, keeping the tone gentle, it sounded just a little deep, really a very sexy voice indeed, could EASILY be a woman. I stood back a little, retraced my gaze up his body and looked in his eyes. I remembered that kiss last night and just couldn’t help myself. I held my hand out to take his and admired the nails and rings again, then opened my mouth to speak. He was trembling just a little, heck so was I, we were both still new to this.



This was SO close to convincing. I moved away and turned the dimmer on the main light down just a little and then looked back. I looked straight at Richard. Hell, no, I looked at Sara. I saw a woman! But I didn’t speak, I leaned over and very gently, for about a second, kissed his gorgeous lips. We both shuddered again.



“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist that. Right now, Richard, I see a woman. You look fantastic. The figure, the makeup, those legs! Really, honestly, with the light down just a little I cannot tell. ”



He smiled, I knew exactly what he was feeling, I had been through this. But not so quickly and effectively, he had done a superb job.



“Last night Richard, if you had asked me, marks out of ten I would have said five, maybe six. But this is more, eight or nine! I know I am biased but you really do look totally female in this light. Sorry, I said ‘Richard’, just for a moment I was thinking of you as a transvestite but as far as I am concerned, for this evening, you are Sara. OK?”



He, or rather she, smiled again. I moved closer.



“May I take your coat, my dear?” I nearly said ‘Miss’ but stopped myself, maybe that would be going too far. As it slid off into my hands I smiled, in fact I chuckled.



“Oh yes, Sara, I love it, the thin white blouse over the black bra. Classic, it looks great!”



We both laughed, it was the TV obsession with showing underwear in a sexy pose, and from the front the bra and the breasts, they really did look real.



“Please, sit down. Can I get you a drink?”



Sara did sit down, sliding ‘her’ right leg over the left so the skirt rode up to reveal very attractive long thigh, again a classic TV pose.



“Thanks. What are you having?”



“And the voice, Sara, you are being careful I can tell. Very effective, it sounds just plain sexy! Oh, sorry, how about some white wine? It’s a good one. Yes?”



When she said yes I slipped into the kitchen and got it from the fridge and opened it, pouring two glasses. Then took it through and handed one over. She took it from me, sipped a little, I watched her long pink nails lift the glass to her cute lips, sipping the wine in a very ladylike fashion. She shifted her bum on the chair a little, I saw her thighs move and heard the rustle of nylon, it was gorgeous. We talked for a short while, about dressing in general, going over some of the things we had chatted about online. I asked about driving while dressed which was obviously new to her, I repeated the comment I had made before about driving in high heels.



“It really wasn’t that difficult, I enjoyed it, specially looking down at my legs!”



“I must say Sara, I also like looking at them!”



Her makeup was not too thick, I could see a slight blush.



“Sara, are you hungry?” I asked as we finished the wine.



“Yes, nervous, excited and ravenous.”



“Then shall we dine?” I asked, standing and offering my hand to help her rise.



“Oh yes. But – where is the blue case, I would like to dress for dinner. I thought it might be more appropriate.”



I hadn’t expected that but it seemed a very good idea.



“OK, I’ll show you to ‘your room’, at least where you can change.”



We went together up the stairs, I went in front which was a shame, I would have loved to look up that skirt from below. I lead her into the back bedroom, where I always dress. The curtains were closed, ready. I showed her the wardrobe and the dresser drawer in there where I’d put my ‘Bethany’ clothes, she spent a few minutes looking through them. We chatted about which I liked best and which she might care to try on.



“Please, Sara, try anything, really”.



I had seen her eyeing the tight black TV basque, leather look with strong strips built into the material to really shape a body, take the waist right down and gave a TV push-up boobs. And the 6″ stilettos.



“Thanks very much but right now I want to stick to what I know, show off in some of my clothes”.



“OK then. The bathroom is just next door, here, call me when you are ready. I am looking forward to what you have in store for me.”



“Well, OK, it’s for me too, but I hope you will like it.”



As I left a thought occurred to me. I stepped into the front bedroom and rapidly stripped, emerging maybe five minutes later, ‘dressed’ for dinner myself. Not in a dress as I might have liked, but in my dinner suit, velvet collar, white shirt, bow tie, looking very respectable and freshly shaven and after-shaved.



In the kitchen I got everything ready, the melon cocktail on the table, the main course in the oven and on low after a few minutes in the microwave, the dessert chilling still in the fridge, the filter machine on. Then in the lounge and dining room I put the lights out and lit the candles ready, and switched on the stereo, with an ‘Easy listening’ CD very quiet in the background. Richard was taking his time, just like a woman. Then I heard footsteps, heels, on the floor in the hall and turned, to see ‘Sara’ slowly coming forward.



“Well, candlelight, and music, how romantic, at least in this light I have a chance of ‘passing’.”



That combination, the light and music and the sexy voice, and the way she looked, again, and stronger than before, I became just a little aroused. I just couldn’t help it. And when she came towards me! Obviously she wanted to impress me, she certainly did that. She was wearing what almost any woman likes to think she looks good in, a ‘little black dress’. But it’s usually the way it is worn that matters, and Sara was making an exceptional job of doing so.



The dress was a silk-like material, maybe polyester, nicely cut over the shoulders, long tight sleeves with three gold buttons at each cuff. The neckline itself was loose with large lapels, down the middle below the neck were three more ‘mock’ buttons ending just above the ‘breasts’. The waist and the skirt were very tight, they showed a very attractive figure, and the skirt finished about 12″ above the knee. She was wearing the same shoes, the black high heels complemented the tan stockings she had chosen. These were maybe a little thick though I am sure that was to cover leg-hairs, and were slightly glossy. With the PVC black bag, the total effect was stunning. And in no uncertain terms I said so.



“Now that, Sara, you look really gorgeous!”



“Why thank you kind sir, might I say you look mighty handsome too” she joked.



“Sara, I am serious, you really look good. Have you seen yourself?”



“Well Ben, I crept into the front room upstairs and posed for a while.”



“And what do YOU think?” I asked.



“I must admit, Ben, I am VERY pleased. I have had the chance to go MUCH further than before, it is great fun. And now I know, I DO have good legs.”



“You have GREAT legs” I commented.



She smiled again as I got up to slide open the door to our dining room, I did the gentlemanly thing, pulled her chair back so that she could sit down.



“This looks good” she continued as I poured wine for both of us. “I am VERY impressed and I am rather hungry.”



“Well Sara, if you like, we could forget all this, I could take you out for a meal.”



Just for a second I had her fooled, I noticed a sudden very worried look on her face, then she realised it was my turn to joke.



“Oh, sure Ben. Then we could go dancing and I could meet this guy, and he would be so attracted by me he would kidnap me and sell me to the slave trade….”



We both laughed, recognising the sort of plot line we had come across in a TV story. Some were good, some were diabolical. We sat and ate and laughed, telling each other of the more ridiculous stories we had come across. As I was serving the dessert I remembered my favourite stupid TV story.



“And then there was the guy who went to bed with his girlfriend and they got mysteriously zapped in the night and swapped bodies, and he woke up in her body and his body was dead next to her or him. And he found out he was pregnant with his own child, and became reconciled to being a girl when he, or she, found out the pleasures of breast-feeding!!”



We were both merry by then, a combination of the relaxed fun and the wine, and the vodka mousse. I was just going to suggest we get up and have coffee in the conservatory when I noticed Sara had gone quiet. She was smiling rather wickedly – and very attractively. I felt something under the table, she had slipped her shoe off and was playing ‘footsy’ with me. She continued, her stocking-clad toe reached the top of my sock and started stroking my bare leg.



“Stop it Sara, I am having a hard enough time controlling my urges as it is! I think we both need some coffee.”



I got up and pulled her chair out, she was definitely just a little merry, we went into the kitchen where it was just ready. I got the cups and saucers (yes, all the best for my guest!) and poured it and turned. She was sat on a stool at the breakfast bar, legs crossed, showing thigh. I grinned.



“STOP it, you tease, or I will not be able to answer for my action.”



She just looked up coquettishly and moved her hand down, sliding her hem up with her manicured and varnished fingers to reveal stocking tops and bare thigh, and just a hint of her panties!



“Now tell me, kind Sir, exactly what is that doing to your libido?”



“NO!” I shouted in mock rage, and took the coffees through and put them on the small table in the conservatory.



Sara followed and sat, quietly, on the small sofa in there and had her coffee. We talked quietly for a few minutes and sobered up a little, I had done the coffee strong, I reassured her that the conservatory and whole of the top half of the garden were totally private.



“Trust me, I know” I said, and she knew how I knew.



As she finished her coffee she crossed her legs again, I was quickly in a state of some discomfort once more. I shuffled a little, she looked down and slid her skirt up yet again, mischievously grinning at me as she did so. The skirt itself was very short, I could see almost all the way up to her panties. This was too much.



I put my own cup down and turned, put my arms round her and gently kissed her neck, pulling at the collar of the dress, I stroked her bare neck down to the bra strap. She tensed at the attention but I continued. Then I pulled away a little and looked her straight in the eyes, she was very slowly sliding her tongue very sexily over her gorgeous red lips. I put my hand on her knee and moved it up her thigh, she tensed again and began to breathe deeply. I kissed her neck once more, she looked so inviting. I knew what I had to say next.



“Sara, please. Can you stay the night?”



I know now she had been hoping for this, or at least had come prepared. She stared straight into my eyes.



“Does this mean you want to sleep with me?”



“Sara, I am DESPERATE to sleep with you, surely you know that, you have been tempting me for the past half hour. “



“And just what does that mean?” she asked in all seriousness.



I had to think, an honest answer was the best.



“Really, I don’t know. I don’t. Something may happen – maybe – if we both want it to.”



She reached out for me and gave me a much longer, seriously romantic kiss, teasing my lips with hers, exploring my mouth with her tongue, the taste and texture of her lips, I was over the moon, she tasted and smelled so nice, so feminine, so desirable.



“That’s to say thank you” she said “For all you have done, I have enjoyed this enormously. You went to a lot of trouble. The dinner, the flowers, sorting out the map, all those things, I have had a gorgeous evening. And for saying that, it is so kind, I would love to stay the night, AND to sleep with you my darling.”



I did appreciate what Sara was saying but I was not paying serious attention really. I have to admit, I was overawed, and I was feeling extremely randy. This very attractive woman, sitting beside me, being so feminine, I really could no longer control myself. I turned and slid one hand behind her waist to pull her towards me to kiss her, to return the compliment, to try to give her the pleasure she had given me.



My other hand slid from her knee, over her stocking tops, over the bare flesh of her thigh, to meet her panties, she felt very warm and damp. We kissed long and hard, our tongues mingling, our bodies close. I felt her hands exploring me, finding a way into my shirt and round my back and then – I felt her pull at my trouser zip, I felt her long red-tipped fingers slide in and past my pants and cup my balls. I gasped in delight, I released my grip a little but my passion was growing.



I felt her hand sliding over my aroused cock, I looked her in the eyes, they were wide open and smiling. I looked down and saw those gorgeously manicured fingers moving along my shaft, my heart beat even faster. I had been aroused all evening but my cock was now straining, erect, shaking as a result of her attentions. She was going to speak but I kissed her again as she fondled me, I was ravenous, my lips were eating hers, it wasn’t love but it was passion, it was lust!



We parted once more, both somewhat breathless and shifted our positions to make ourselves more comfortable. Then she leaned over and kissed the swelling, purple knob, it reacted by bulging even more.



“Sara” I managed to croak.



“Darling, let me, please, I want to, I want to see you satisfied” she replied in a husky, sexy female voice, and leant to caress my swollen member once more.



Then she sat up and reached for her handbag and took out a foil-wrapped condom. Still in disbelief, I watched fascinatedly as her pink nails pulled open the pack, I groaned in sheer delight as I felt her roll it all the way up my shaft. And I almost screamed with pleasure when she leant over me again and slid her luscious lips right down the shaft, taking the knob deep in her throat.



She started to apply pressure with those gorgeous lips, her tongue, her throat. I exploded, spurting my cum hard into the tip of the condom, feeling her working on my throbbing cock as it pulsed. I finished shooting my load all too soon and relaxed with a very deep contented sigh. She sat up with a satisfied look on her face, I imagine mine must have been even more ecstatic.

She didn’t say a word. She just carefully slid the condom off me, I was still pretty erect. She lowered her head and slid those gorgeous lips up and down several times, cleaning me of the juices still coating my erection. Then she sat up and swallowed.



“Time for bed” she said, stood up and walked off towards the stairs.



I dressed again, with some difficulty, I was still physically aroused, overcome to some extent by the totally erotic experience I had just had. I locked up, put the lights out and followed her. As I went towards the bedroom door she was coming out of the bathroom.



“Darling, please, I will join you in a couple of minutes. Please, for me – I want to see you naked” she said in an even more sexy voice than before.



I stripped, washed, did my teeth and went back into the bedroom. She was there already, standing, waiting. She had turned the lights down and I realised why. Without the clothes, the makeup, the jewellery, even in sexy night-clothes, the TOTAL image of a woman was not there. This was a transvestite, though it was a VERY good one. Richard was still wearing the wig but had removed most of his makeup and was maybe feeling not quite so feminine, but was wearing a long transparent black night-dress, split down one side to show his legs.



I had to say it, and I had to be honest.



“Richard, you still look very sexy indeed.”



Which he did. I went over towards him, my cock once again standing out proud, slid my arms round him and kissed him hard. It didn’t feel wrong.



We got into bed and cuddled for a short while, and slept.



DAY THREE



As I said I almost ALWAYS wake at 7.30 at the weekend, it was obviously the excitement which had tired me out. When I eventually stirred I peered at the clock by the bed. It showed just before 9 again, and there was a coffee mug on the bedside table.



“Oh, I thought I heard some stirring, good morning my love.”



I felt a light kiss on the cheek and opened my eyes fully.



“I have been up some time, thought a coffee might be needed. OK?”



I stirred for a moment, then sat up and looked across the room. I could see ‘Sara’ sitting at the dressing table there, doing her lipstick! A very domestic scene, I thought, man getting up late, his wife dressed and making herself look nice. Then I peered more closely. The curtains were still drawn, I had mentioned possible problems about being seen at the front of the house, though there was some sunlight coming through. My guest was sitting at the dresser and was indeed dressed. At least partly, she was wearing Carol’s white shortie silk robe .



“OK Ben. You still smell of sex. Go and shower and make yourself presentable, I’ve put some clothes out for you.”



She walked out of the room – as she left I got a glimpse, of black fishnets and of enormous black high heels! I tumbled out of bed and dashed to the bathroom to relieve myself. I showered and shaved as quickly as I could, then found the jeans and the white shirt she had left out for me. I rushed down to the kitchen, Sara was sitting on the high stool in there with a coffee in her hand, with the robe promiscuously open at the front, long legs covered by fishnets stockings attached to the black basque, and wearing the 6″ black patent stilettos. As I went in she stood, the robe fell open – showing her ‘boobs’ pushing out from the cups of the basque. She had in, I thought, Carol’s ‘breast-enhancers’ slipped into the bottom of the bra cups, they did lift the flesh and produce two nice-looking tits.



“Well” she said, walking provocatively towards me and kissing my cheek. “Do you like what you see? Ah, I can tell you do. I thought the loose jeans may be a good idea.”



She had reached down between my legs, she stroked my thigh gently and could feel my excitement.



“I can tell you do!” Then she turned. “OK, get breakfast, I’ve had mine, just some cereal. I’m going to finish dressing.”



And she left me alone and excited and aroused and thinking, what next? She had looked very different, more confident – and even in full daylight – female!!



When she came down again a few minutes later I looked carefully, despite the erotic attire, I was sure. She had put on a white silk blouse, tucked into a very short tight black skirt. The blouse had an elasticated neckline, it was pulled across to reveal her shoulders and to show off her ‘boobs’. I could only admire. I had tried the basque myself like that, strapless, but was not confident in it, Sara looked great, her gorgeous legs were unbelievable!



I stared carefully at the figure in front of me, the legs, the figure, the face. The makeup was different, in some way, more suitable for daytime, but she had changed her nail varnish for a darker red, and her lips too of course. I grabbed her hand. I was desperate to try to see just exactly what had made such a difference, the hair, the makeup?



“Come with me” I said, pulling her towards the back door and out into the garden.



She was reluctant. I was still staring.



“Look, it’s OK, the whole of the top of the garden area is TOTALLY private. Believe me.”



She did, again she knew why I was so sure.



“So what’s wrong, why are you staring?”



And I was STILL staring, inspecting Richard very carefully indeed.



“Richard, do me a favour please. Go back upstairs and put on some ordinary black stockings, or tights. Please. And those shoes you had when you arrived. Go on, trust me. I KNOW your legs look totally gorgeous in fishnets, especially with those heels, they really do but – well, trust me. Please.”



She was a little reluctant but said “OK” and went up. I got a mid-blue jacket from the hall, one of Carol’s, it is a bit big for her but she likes it that way. Sara came down, I pulled the elasticated shoulders of her blouse back up and slid the coat on her, then took her hand as we went out into the light again.



“Well, what is it?” she asked.



“Richard, you remember when we met on Friday, in the dark, I said six out of ten or something. Yesterday in dim light inside you were an eight. No, don’t get upset. Right now Richard, I am definite, TEN!”



He looked puzzled. He realised I was talking to ‘Richard’, and he realised what I was saying.



“Right now, I don’t know what is radically different, the combination of the makeup and the tight-waisted figure, the light maybe, I don’t know, but I see in front of me – a woman. Totally. I would defy anybody to tell me otherwise, you look great – and female. Not gorgeous, not beautiful, no. But attractive yes. definitely. So I have to call you Sara, don’t I?”



She still looked puzzled, unconvinced.



“I did do the makeup lighter, and I do admit I think the figure in this basque looks good, thanks very much for the compliment, Ben, it means a lot to me, it really does, but…..”



“Sara, no ‘buts’. I mean it. Tell you what. let’s go out, for a walk?”



That did it. Sara was at the same time delighted and very tempted.



“You mean you and me, go along the road?”



“No way, Sara, this is real life, not a TV story. I am NOT taking you down to the pub. If Carol finds out I was out with another woman, well! No, we can drive for a mile or so. I know. There’s a supermarket car park a mile away. We never use that branch but I’ve been there dressed once, in the evening. There’s a canal next to it and a small park area. It’s ideal.”



“This evening you mean?”



“No, now. Yes, now, you look great, we can just walk for a bit. And before you say it, Sara, I don’t care if anyone sees us, it will be just another couple out in the sunshine Sunday morning. It’s still early, the store doesn’t open ’til ten. Yes? I would be proud to take you. ”



Sara thought for a moment, for several moments, then spoke.



“Yes”.



She got her handbag, I opened the car, within five minutes I had backed out and we were heading along the road quite quickly. As soon as we passed the bend and the house was out of sight I relaxed. I really didn’t want to be seen with another woman! I looked across, Sara was nervous, I told her to relax, and put a hand on her thigh.



“Please Ben, don’t. I am shaking enough already”



We pulled into the car park, I could see across to the little grassy area and the canal, there were a few people about but not many. I went round and opened the door for Sara, this time she swung her legs out together, very ladylike.



We held hands and walked, the first fifty yards we didn’t see anyone, Sara became more confident, eased her grip – and me too, I eased mine, I was sure but I was nervous too. Then as we turned to walk along by the canal, a guy came jogging up the towpath.



“Morning” he said.



“Morning” I replied, and smiled.



I looked at Sara, she smiled too. A few seconds later we passed an older couple going the other way with their dog, no comment was made, but he DID give Sara a good look.



“Don’t worry, my love. He was only looking at your legs!” I reassured her.



We walked on for several minutes, passing about six more people. I could tell Sara was loving it, there were absolutely no ‘negative’ reactions. As we walked round and back towards a car park Sara noticed a young couple under a tree, necking fairly furiously. As we approached they separated and moved off. She pulled me over towards the tree and leant against it, then put her arms round my neck.



“OK Ben, I never thought I would ever get the chance to do this especially in public in broad daylight, come here!”



She began kissing tenderly, we did an awful lot of kissing that weekend! But then she began to revel in it, extrovert petting and fondling, made even more exciting by the fact that as we explored each other’s mouths, as my hand slid further up inside her skirt, her hand slid unseen inside the zip of my trousers, her breathing became heavier, her ‘bosoms’ heaved more and more as we became even more passionate, people were passing! They couldn’t help but notice we were ‘hot’ for each other, I was only vaguely aware of their presence from the sound of footfalls and occasional mutterings.



The last I remember, as we eventually parted, both really horny from the public lust we had been displaying, was from a couple of older women, probably over sixty, I heard the words ‘…. such a short skirt….. disgraceful!’ as they passed.



Sara heard it too, she showed her delight. We calmed down and walked on, holding hands still, came to the edge of the car park. I turned to her.



“Right Sara, when was the battle of Hastings?”



She looked extremely puzzled. “1066″.



“Right, now do those numbers backwards.”



“You mean 6601?”



I took out my wallet and handed her my credit card.



“The ATM is that way, I am going back to the car. Can you go get me £30 for the weekend, I’ll see you there in about five minutes?”



I strode off purposefully back to the car. I think she recognised the scenario, I had told ‘Richard’ in one of my emails. This was the site of my very first outing as Bethany, when I had done that very thing, walking across the car park alone in the dark to the cash machine. I turned to watch.



She could have chickened out, hurried after me, but no. She was almost striding, much more confidently now, towards the machine. I watched as she put the card in, pressed as needed, and got the cash out. She turned, opened her handbag, and slid it into a small purse I think – I was too far away to see properly. But she didn’t turn towards the car, maybe she had lost her bearings? But no again, the store had opened a few minutes earlier, she was going in!



I thought about following her, but decided to wait. Less than two minutes later she emerged, now very confident indeed. I thought then ‘She’s been in the Ladies’, and indeed she had. She was carrying the jacket over her arm and had slid her top down her arms a little, exposing her shoulders, and more of her boobs, to the bright morning sun. She looked round and began to step purposefully in my direction.



But she didn’t get far, that was when she was accosted! Not surprising really, she really did look provocative at that moment. Not tall like when she was wearing the 6″ stilettos but tallish, well built, a thin waist and long long legs, it was really to be expected she might get approached. And she was.



It was the ‘AA’ man, he had just set up his little recruitment box outside the supermarket, trying to recruit the mums and dads as they did their shopping Sunday morning. As Sara started to walk towards me I could see him approach her and start talking. And I could see her talking back, showing an interest in the leaflet he was holding. They chatted for quite some time, then he took her arm and led her towards his stand. I could see two seats there, she sat down, he sat next to her and she crossed her legs! I wish I had been closer, to see properly the look on his face when she revealed that gorgeous expanse of thigh, he must have been wondering where his luck had come from, recruiting such a lovely leggy lady maybe.



I never did ask her, what with the events afterwards, but I am sure I saw him put a hand on her thigh as they talked. Eventually they stood up, she had a leaflet in her hand, she looked towards him and then turned away and came towards me, every inch a woman who had just been enjoying herself, a woman who knew she looked good, who knew her sexuality and was proud to show it. Her hair was bouncing, her earrings were glinting, her breasts were moving with every step of her lovely legs. She passed about four men on her way back, every one turned to look. I leaned over to let her in the car.



“God, Ben that was INCREDIBLE!” she almost shouted. “What a buzz, I just LOVED it, did you see the way he was looking at my legs?”



“Sara my dear, did you see the way he was looking at your tits?”



“God I feel great. Drive, Ben, drive!”



And I did, I drove home, Sara was sat beside me all the way, breathing deeply. It was difficult to keep my eyes on the road, her cleavage, with her top pulled down like that, boobs bulging and heaving, looked really impressive. At the house we got out of the car and through the side gate, into the living room with no problem, no neighbours around at all. She was still on a high.



“What an outing, Ben, I felt fucking great if you will excuse the unladylike language!”



She wiggled her hips suggestively, loving the attention. I was transfixed. She was sex on legs!



“And you were – and are – fucking sensational” I exclaimed.



I thought she was going to kiss me on the lips, I was feeling horny as hell. Instead she began to undo my shirt and leaned over, planting a huge kiss above my right nipple.



“I can’t give you a love bite, I hope that will do.”



I looked down. She had left a red lip-shaped mark on me. Then she started on my trousers. I was going to protest but she was insistent.



“Ben, take them off. OFF. And the shorts and shoes and socks, take them ALL OFF” she almost shouted.



I did as I was told! My cock was 100% at attention, I was so aroused by this gorgeous tart in front of me, she started to caress my balls, then moved back a little. She lifted her skirt up to her waist and sat perched on the edge of the kitchen table and almost tore off her knickers!



“Now my darling, please, I want your cock up me, you have to, FUCK ME. NOW. On Carol’s kitchen table. NOW!”



Her cock was exposed and erect. Yes, HER cock. I was being propositioned by a gorgeous woman with a ripe erect cock between her legs. As she moved back she lifted her legs to plant those long heels on the table and reveal the full glory of her long legs and her inviting arsehole to me. It was glinting in the sun, she had obviously prepared for this. As I hesitated just a little she reached down between her tits and pulled out a condom.



“Put this on me, please, to stop the mess and keep Carol’s table clean!”



I did, enjoying my fingers sliding down towards her balls, thinking that I never imagined the weekend would include this.



“What about me?” I asked.



“No Ben, none for you. Please. I want to feel your cum shooting up me, like you want to make me pregnant. I just don’t care, I want you to make love to me.”



She steered my bulging cock towards her hole, I let her, I wanted her too. When it touched a shiver went through me, all of me. I began to push, I climbed onto the table on top of her and pushed, I watched the head of my cock begin to enter, I paused. I looked at her face. Yes, HER face, I could see a real desirable woman. I pushed again, she winced a little, I pushed again, she made a slight strangled cry.



I really didn’t want to hurt her in any way but I could tell that, with over half of the head inside her hole, it was a bit painful. I looked again, questioning.



“Go on, go on.”



I pushed again, her cries got louder and more strained, I really was not at all sure. Her stocking-clad legs were pushing against my chest, she grabbed me and pulled gently, digging her nails in, I slid further. And then. I went in. Right in. As the shiny purple bulb of my cock slipped into her, the shaft followed oh-so smoothly, I cried out myself.



“Aaaah Sara, ooh God, that is gorgeous, that is out of this world”



I looked at her, the face had changed, this wasn’t hurting now, this was erotic, this was sensational, this was the start of a damn good fuck! I pushed, then slid out, then in again and we both screamed with delight, it was really something, I kept on and on for several seconds, sliding just a little further each time. We had our rhythm going, she was clenching her arse muscles round me, squeezing me into ecstasy, breathing deeply, her breasts were heaving.



“Christ Ben. Oooooooooh!” she said after maybe two minutes. “You can go on like this all afternoon, that is a sensational feeling, deep inside me, OOOOOOh.”



I was going on steadily, it was a sensation, being aroused to such an extent, every thrust maintained the height of my arousal. I just carried on for maybe a minute more, pushing and relaxing, I looked down at my cock sliding into her arse, at her own condom-clad member standing proud, it was swelling more, her juices were beginning to cum. And she did, violently, her arse shuddered and shook, her muscles tightened but I kept on thrusting, I saw the jet of cum through the thin condom, shoot out and swell the teat.



She shook, she cried out, she was having sex with me and loving it! And so was I, that set me off, I speeded up just a little and reached my own climax, pulsing hard and deep into her.



“Oh yes, Ben, fuck me, fuck me, oh my lover!!”



We were both at a crescendo, we bucked and shook together as I emptied my cock into her, I could feel the hot juices spurting deep. We were in heaven together, I shot my load, I just kept on cumming up her, filling her up with my hot sperm!



And it finished. We collapsed, I fell on top of her, kissed her neck, her ears, her hair, her lips. I was just incredibly grateful. At which point we realised how uncomfortable we were, me lying on top of her on that kitchen table. I withdrew carefully and stood up. She reached for her black silky panties and pulled them on, then stood.



“I want to keep your sperm inside me a little longer, Ben. I’ll clean up in the downstairs loo, you go up and clean too, I’ll make some coffee.”



I came down about five minutes later, in jeans and T-shirt, she was sat in the sun in the garden on the swing-seat, with two coffees beside her, I joined her, we kissed. Strangely for the first time in the weekend I felt just a little guilty. The last time I had sat there had been about two weeks earlier, with Carol, after we had a very successful shagging session.



We had our coffee, it was really a very sweet time, a couple sat there in post-coital bliss cuddling and caressing, enjoying the moment. Sara squirmed in her seat.



“Ooooh, Ben, I can still feel it, I can feel your sperm shifting round inside me”

I stood before the mirror completely satisfied at myself I looked hotter then hell. It was my first time going this far, body fully shaved fake eyelashes professional make up long blonde barbie wig brushed to perfection.



Even all my jewelry went perfect with my slutty little outfit I’d bought for the special occasion.



Both my matching white lace bra and panties showed off sexily underneath my tiny shoulder less pink and blue halter top big enough to cover my small fake boobs and not much else.



A black micro mini with white trim about 4 inches long covered less then half of my goodies my small but plump round butt jiggled sexily as I strutted like a stripper in my 7″ clear platform stilletos with ankle straps wrapping around my pink and black zebra striped thigh highs held on by a white garter.



Swaying my hips side to side walking like a total slut looking totally passable as a girl so exited finally my wildest fantasy was happening dressed up like a complete slut soon to be surrounded by a room full of men treating me as their little slut letting me service their big tasty cocks and feeding me their yummy loads.



Music playing I drank and got high dancing around like a stripper hidden cameras recording my every move as I waited for my guests to arrive, I placed an ad on craigslist week earlier 32 guys had confirmed to partake in my first gangbang and bukkake,



I couldn’t believe what I was doing I was crazy I thought to myself 32 men all for myself I was a little nervous but seeing the slut on TV getting her mouth filled with cum took the feeling away I would soon be enjoying the same



I was a freak for the taste of semen though in my life id only had the pleasure of 8 different men I sometimes satisfied my craving with my own cum.



I was nice and buzzed when the first knock came I opened the door and let inside a tall white older man that looked at me with the same hunger I felt for him very very nice baby he looked me up and down.



Thank you I said twirling slowly around for him. leaving the door propped open I got on my hands and knees cat walking sexily towards the couch looking back to make sure I was being followed 2 more guys entered and wasted no time in assuming their role as I did mine.



Climbing onto the couch my lips wrapping around a big beautiful limp white cock that appeared. Mmmm I said softly as it slowly pushed inside my mouth it tasted so good and I easily took it all in about nine inches of cock filled my mouth balls slapping my chin I was loving myself for being such a cock slut.



Hands caressed and smacked my ass and one big cock after another slid in my mouth feeling my thong pushed aside I looked back to see a huge black cock shining from the lubricant that I was glad to have put on table.



It was the biggest cock I’d ever seen looked about 12 inches long and equally big around oh yes fuck my ass daddy I begged as it slowly pushed between my legs inside of me.



I felt so so good and my moans of pleasure showed just how much, ai ai ai yeeeeah feels so good I cried by now the room was filling up with more guys and I sucked cock after beautiful cock as my ass got pounded harder then ever before by the same big black cock that I wished would never stop.



Yes fuck my ass daddy please dont stop I was able to let out in between cocks ohhhhh yesss I greedily deepthroated a black cock that I somehow was able to fit it all in my mouth.



I felt like the the one in my ass poked the one in my mouth as was sandwiched like a slut between two black studs and with no warning hot salty cum pumped out of the cock directly down my throat generously, holding my head roughly until he was empty yeah swallow it like a good little slut.



Slowly pulling out when was satisfied good girl he said slapping my lips and tongue with the huge beautiful cock thank you I smiled naughtily looked around there seemed to be way more then 30 guys in the room and my greedy mouth opened for another cock.



I loved hearing them telling me how hot I looked and how good a cocksucker I was. What a little slut I was my ass was on fire and I felt I would faint when cum erupted from the huge cock deep inside me dripping down my legs when it finally stopped and pulled out of me my mouth.



Rewarded with a second load from a fat guy stroking himself aiming for my open mouth tongue sticking out catching the delicious cream that squirted out of his cock, it tasted so so good so yummy, so unnatural to love another mans sperm the way I did but I couldn’t help it.



I loved being a slut. I was picked up and taken to the bed on my back my legs spread apart in pointing at the ceiling another big cock slid inside my ass and began fucking me like a reg doll as my lips parted and my tongue savoring another cock was soon feeding me jizz and just as that one finished another began then 3 at once my mouth quickly filled up with man cream and I gulped it down as more and more cocks began ejaculating.



Some thick some runny some creamy, all delicious and yummy blending together in my mouth and my tummy. I swallowed over 30 loads of semen by the end of the night and I was afterwards lucky to have 2 guys, they were friends before I learned, to stay the night. I fell asleep with a cock in my mouth and another snuggled between my butt cheeks.

I left Summer tied to the bed, looking dirty and beautiful in her stilettos and smeared cerise lipstick. Recently turned 19 Summer was a freckled brunet with large, dizzy brown eyes who hadn’t much experience sexually, however arch her presence and despite stunning curves and angelic looks. She would never let guys, or girls, see her pussy. Even on that one occasion when she’d let herself be fucked, soaked knickers gripped tightly at the hips. It was because she got so wet. The idea had come to her from somewhere that it was unusual or a turn off and, without question, it was unusual to get as superhumanly dripping wet as Summer did but it was none the less unbelievably sexy; ironic this should be the cause of all her insecurity and frustration.



That morning she’d pulled down her lemon-yellow thong for a glimpse long enough to slip in a glass dildo not yet wet but ready to grind on the ribbed shard for an hour or so. I’d tied her in place by the wrists and ankles to stop her touching herself, or hiding from the full-on challenge in store. I needed to pick up some masking tape and Champaign. I hadn’t mentioned it to Summer but I was meeting a mutual friend, Chloe, who was coming equipped with an arsenal of sex toys to help with Summer’s big liberation. A surprise appearance which was likely to please though embarrass; Summer had told me she’d never fucked a girl though often imagined 69ing with Chloe, herself on top so she could squirt down on Chloe’s face and force her to drink in her pussy’s shameful secret with a guilty shunt of the hips.



In a way I believe she had faith in herself, however apprehensive. Or maybe there was some sentimentality around Chloe, her best friend. Chloe was also 19 though blond and fairly fierce, with a warm heart and dirty spirit. She’d told me she wanted to show Summer the kind of climax that hit so hard it hurt; see her squirt in ways that put shame to any private displays of wetness she’d thought so extreme. And of course I relayed this challenge to Summer who merely blushed and shrugged, assuming, perhaps, Chloe was being a polite comfort to a shy friend, lacking conviction. But she didn’t lack conviction. And arrived, clearly earlier than arranged, with the bag of clanking beads and dildos and other oddments in time for me to spy her in the distance as I crossed the park.



A bright humid day; summer colours and tanned skin flashing at the hem of a thousand short dresses; humidity carrying the waft of perfumes as hot strangers passed. Chloe was wearing what could only be described as a nightdress though could, at a push, pass for daytime clothing; a silvery, slinky item. Along with black heels, a black hair band and pink-hemmed, white knee socks. The brown bag of toys at her side looked quite incongruous.



She smiled discreetly as I approached appearing something like a sex-spy about to hand over the goods, otherwise dour and obliging. We greeted fairly casually and I peered in the bag. “How’s the captive?” Chloe smiled, becoming animated and restless, almost pushy; “Does she know I’m coming?”



“She’s good. A little ambivalent. Wetting the bed as we speak, but you know it’s the good fear. And no.”



Chloe beamed. “Fuck… You look sexy, Chloe.” I whispered and kissed the corner of her mouth. She conceded to a sly smile then gestured stiffly in the direction of my place. “I need to get champagne.” I added, and Chloe met my eye, “One with a cold bottleneck, about thus thick. See you’ve got some treats…” I peeked in the bag; I could spy some masking tape and one or two other black and red items I couldn’t quite identify. Chloe shrugged looking ever-cheerful. The bag was really burgeoning; a row of steel anal beads at the fore glinting in the sun with shameless lustre.



We headed for the corner shop at our end of the park, Chloe catching endless looks from passing men. She was possibly more desired than Summer, if only for Summer’s aloof reputation. Summer would see a lot of guys and suck them off with a dirty, fearless thirst then inexplicably creep away to fulfil her end of the bargain in the privacy of her own room and imagination while Chloe was always more consummate and experimental in her affections. I’d met her through Summer before Summer and I hit it off physically, to whatever stilted degree, and talked at length about our various ambitions around sex and experimentation. But we’d never fucked, owing to circumstances. The closest we came was an impassioned kiss and whispered ideas. This was Summer’s day, but I imagined Chloe would be highly involved.



“You think she’s an anal virgin too?” asked Chloe swinging the bag as we began to wander the way of the shops.



“Maybe. Not for long. She’s not a virgin anyway… Thought you’d know this stuff.”



“You fucked her?”



“No. She fucked someone ages ago. Just no looking down. You know you’d think she’d get into being a dom and carry blindfolds.” I looked for Chloe’s fleeting eyes but she ignored me.



“Do you think it’s an excuse?” she said eventually.



“How so?”



“Maybe she’s just a pussy.”



“Doubt it. She changes a lot haven’t you noticed? Thongs of many colours… She’s not a pussy about flashing when she knows you’re all eyes. Again, thought you’d know this.”



“Nope. I think she hides stuff from me. Are you sure she’s cool with me being there?”



“She’ll be embarrassed. But she wants to fuck you; maybe she thinks you’re just too cool for school Chloe, an imposing role model, hmm?” I threw her a smug grin. Chloe seemed friary distant, not hesitant about our plans though maybe reconsidering her approach. We were nearing the shop for the drinks. I prodded her in the direction of a secluded path between the shop and the neighbouring building whispering, “Hey, an idea…” Chloe obliged slipping into submissive, ‘curious’ role with an instant trailed glance and stepped into the ally.



“You want to fuck me?” she whispered in the dimmer, cooler light.



“Of course but that’s not the plan, what are you wearing under this?” I pinched the slinky dress up around her hips and spied black underwear, creased tightly about her pussy. She dropped the bag of toys and we shared a deep kiss. I gripped her tight around the groin, “Turn around…” I whispered.



“You do want to fuck me.” she giggled in my ear.



“I’m gonna fuck you but I need these…” I twisted a finger in the knickers, touching, for the first time, Chloe’s bare pussy. “I’ll take these and you can come along to the house just a bit later. Come in when she’s most invulnerable…” Chloe was laughing, kissing, and whispering, “…That sounds interesting.”



“So turn around…” I glanced down the ally into stark sun and deserted streets. Chloe turned her back into my chest and I pressed her breasts to the brick wall. I unbuckled my belt and opened my jeans and pulled down her knickers around her upper thighs. I held her firmly at the back of the neck whispering “I’ll be quick we’ve a main feature to see, I need cum on these…” I tugged on the knickers.



I found her pussy around the small cheeks of her ass and pushed in my cock 8 smooth inches into her warm wet body and began to fuck her hard. She whimpered and fought to catch my eye over her shoulder and I held her cheek to the wall. I came quickly, easing out to drip cum in her pants and pulled them up around her hips and pressed the crotch into to her pussy to soak in the cum and rubbed the fabric on her clit and pussy lips. “Take them off…” I panted, kissing her neck. She turned around stepping one awkward leg at a time out of the knickers and handed them to me clopping giddily in the heels. I gave her some money saying, “Get some champagne and come to the house in about a half hour. Skip the intermediate. Impact… don’t you think? When she sees you’re there?”



Chloe beamed and we shared a final breathy kiss before I nodded her goodbye, taking a role of masking tape from the bag; I headed for my place with the warm handful of underwear.



I lived of the 6th floor of the building, 12 dusty flights up from the entrance hall. Via a cavernous, tiled stairwell just seduced enough to block out the glare of the day and muffle the various sounds of the park and tragic. I took the stairs slowly in an effort be quiet, hoping to reach Summer without her knowledge and maybe spy her in a private moment alone with the dildo and her thoughts.



When I reached the door it was wide open, prized perhaps by a passer by or the breeze. I’d left it ajar with an inkling Summer would be less inclined to sleep that way. She was in plain view from the doorway though shielded by her arm and, as much as the ropes would allow, angled away from the open door; asleep perhaps.



I could make out rising breaths though she lay otherwise motionless, serene and unresponsive as I clicked shut the door behind me. I paced in and froze as she flinched in the bed, glancing sharply at me over a shoulder. She became still again now laying flat on her back, face tilted in the ruffles of her dress; hiding.



“Baby you mustn’t…” she mumbled in the folds, “You mustn’t it’s too much…” she mumbled again chancing a coy glance as I smiled back.



“What’s too much?”



She said nothing and shifted in the bed with a gentle wriggle of the hips and turned over to face away from me.



“What’s too much?” I repeated moving closer.



“It’s too wet.” she whispered.



“That’s the idea.”



“Not this wet.”



“So what’s so wet Summer?”



“Everything.”



“You know what I mean.”



“My place. It’s too wet.”



“I was hoping more specific.”



Summer said nothing and turned flat on her back wearing a coy smile as I stood at the end of the bed. She peered up seeming sleepy or delirious and perhaps devious; matted hair sticking to her brow in the heat; lipstick dispersed in a glossy hue about her chin and mouth. She must have been licking her lips while I was gone. A vision of elegance however messy, and prevailing dignity; even within the guilty stare that possessed her eyes. Arms stretched at either side of her head, and creased wrists knotted with fine rope, seeming accidentally to thrust out her breasts into the thin fabric covering of her dress. Folds of the dress were tucked in damp skin-tight folds around her crotch; legs reaching with slick symmetry down from beneath the floral hem to her high heels and the rope-entangled ankles. She wriggled her hips, clearly cherishing the hidden dildo.



“So what’s wet?” I said in a whisper.



“My pussy…” she replied, closing her eyes and grinding.



“Sure I can tell that. Say it again.”



“My pussy….” Summer whispered with a slow giddy sigh, tilting her face in the pillow.



“Sure… But what would Chloe say?”



Summer’s body jerked with a giggle and she said nothing, appearing almost to sleep, though with deep audible breaths.



“What would Chloe say?”



“Okay…” Summer sighed eyes lightly opening, “Chloe would say my cunt’s wet. It’s very wet…”



“Huh?” I grinned. I knelt by the bed inspecting the thin foam mattress from below.



“My…” Summer sighed with rich, drowsy contentment, “…cunt’s wet baby. It feels too dirty you mustn’t look.”



“Again?” I said quietly, touching the underside of the mattress where a patch of moisture was growing.



“My cunt’s wet.” Sumner breathed stirring the mattress as she began to grind her hips, seeming to hug in the hidden dildo thighs crossed in a tight clench. I sat by her side on the edge of the bed and slipped a thumb in her mouth which she began to suck, eyes flinching under squirming eyelids. I spread her lips with the thumb and she opened her eyes to glimpse Chloe’s underwear as I pressed it through her open lips. She smiled widely, licking the underwear as I fed it in her mouth finding my fingertips with her tongue around the folds and lace edges. Tasting cum, Summer’s eyes opened wide and she sucked in the sticky fabric fully. She stared with full freckled cheeks as I peeled a length of masking tape and cut it in my teeth and applied it to her lips. “Your dress is ruined…” I whispered, glancing at her crotch and after a moment she nodded. I continued, “We’d better take it off.” Summer nodded again.



I got off the bed and went to the kitchen and pulled out a large pair of scissors from the drawer and walked back to the room with the bed. Summer watched with a placid stare as I reappeared with the scissors. She flipped her head in the pillow as I went to the window and pulled the curtains open to spill harsh sunlight on her outstretched body. She squinted and flipped her face away from the light. I sat back on the bed and peered into her mildly alarmed eyes and slipped the open scissors around the collar of her dress.



Summer made some nasal sounds and tugged a little on the ropes as I cut into the fabric and snipped down towards her naval. I stopped at the waste and used the scissors to flip open the upper half of her dress revealing a white bra and strained cleavage. I cut the bra at the centre and tugged it away, studying her freed breasts and lithe midriff all glossed and sticky with perspiration. I dabbed one acutely hard nipple with my thumb and needed the breast as firmly as it took for her to clench shut her eyes and shift her hips with mixed invitation and discomfort. I slid the scissors around the waist of the dress and cut away the remaining section revealing the saturated knickers and slippery thighs.



She clenched her thighs, further spreading the mess with a languid, sticky-sounding smear and sighed through her nose sounding mildly defeated. Her cheek in the pillow, she wouldn’t look at me. I tugged out the dress from under her and left it on the floor and inspected the bed about her pelvic aria, seemingly wet through. “Still got that dildo inside?” I said quietly, absorbed by the sight of the translucent knickers shaped to her pussy. Summer nodded with a near wince and sighed through her nose, moving her hips with a hint of frustration.



I cut the ropes around her ankles and chucked the scissors on the floor.



I held her by the hips and twisted her on her front so her arms, which were still tied, crossed one over the other and buried her face.



She laid waiting, on her front, motionless and seeming to hide from the sunshine.



From this side I could see the dildo pocking a small bump in her underwear. I spread and shifted her legs admiring, with every jolt, the pert shudder and of her ass and slowly the dildo slipped out leaving a small peeled fold in the knickers, loosing an ebb of cum. I covered her pussy with the dishevelled fold and tugged up the pants neatly around her hips and threw the warm dildo on the floor.



Summer pined through her nose and I told her to get up on her knees. She did awkwardly, and quickly; wrists tugging their ropes, pressing out her pussy in the air and wriggling her hips as if to prompt the removal of the knickers. I left them on and untangled the ropes that had wrapped around her ankles.



Careful not to dislodge the heels I re-tied her ankles to each bedpost with less give so she was forced to remain, legs spread, ass tilted upwards, on her knees with her shoulders slumped down in the sheets. I tied more rope around her waste and attached it to the end of the bed to stop her slumping down off her knees. A gentle knock came on the door.



“That’s Chloe…” I whispered.



Summer flinched and peered up with listening eyes.



“Just a minute!” I shouted, going to the end of the bed. I twisted off one of Summer’s shoes and carried it to her face with the heel close to an eye so she could inspect the dimensions: roughly an inch thick at the base reaching five inches in length to it’s sleek point.



I went to the end of the bed and speared the knickers with a tough hook between her ass cheeks and tore the fabric to reveal her pussy, drooling cum in a single tear down between her thighs. I wet the heel roughly in her pussy and touched its point to her ass’s flinching, tight hole with twists and prying digs. Seeming overcome Summer caught my eye and made small nasal sounds as the heel dug sporadic, shallow depths inside her ass. Her pussy drooled cum as I pinched her cheeks tightly spread, then prying her open with just one thumb nudged the heel hard in her asshole and helped it drive a deep and gradual way inside as far as the shoe’s sole would allow. Summer moaned and lay limper than ever and more cum drooled down her thighs. I nudged and twisted the shoe and shook it hard hearing her moan louder, then took up the masking tape from the bed, “Just a mo Chloe!” I shouted, peeling off a length of tape.



I stretched several lengths of tape across Summer’s ass to hold the shoe in place then left the bed to get the door, beaconing in Chloe who spied Summer with a deep sinful stare, sauntering inside and placing the bag of toys and champagne by the bed. She bit her lip to calm an intense smile, gasping, “Summer you horrible slut!” then beamed freely; “Fuck, that’s a dirty cunt… How wet are you summer?” Chloe stepped closer to inspect Summer’s pussy and dabbed a finger on the sheets bellow. Summer made no sound though appeared to be straining to see Chloe as she knelt down at the end of the bed. Chloe prodded the embedded shoe and dabbed some cum from Summer’s thigh to taste. She shrugged and sprang up quipping, “…Tastes dirty.”



I pulled up a chair, sitting a couple of meters from the bed wondering what may occur if I waited and watched the girls; maybe Chloe would come up with something harder and dirtier than I’d thought of. But Chloe came over and knelt on the floor by my feet and began to unbuckle my belt.



“Hey, you know your knickers are in Summer’s mouth.” I said as Summer watched us with an immersed, dizzy gaze. Chloe’s eyes flared with a moment’s glee as she glanced across her shoulder at Summer’s gag then back at my jeans. She pulled out my erect cock and glanced again at summer then began to suck with arresting passion. “Don’t hold back…” she whispered sipping spit and wiping her mouth, “I need your cum now…” she slipped her lips and tongue, then throat, around my cock and sucked slowly with a meticulous, deep appetite.



“Fuck…” I gripped the chair straining to sit flat in the seat as Chloe gripped my hands. I watched Summer’s pussy drool cum and met her sleepy eyes as Chloe began to ease the beginnings of an easy climax. Slurping free she sat back on her heels with a woozy smile and whipped her mouth, shaking her head with a wry challenging smile.



“Fuck you…” I grinned, panting; shoving my cock forward a little, “Thought you wanted?” Chloe ducked again with a quick nod and licked the head of my cock making breathy, hungry sighs, sipping off traces of the failed ejaculation.



She held my wrists and wholly swallowed in my cock to lick inside her mouth. I freed my wrists and held her head, lips pinned at the base of my cock as her tongue eased out the first spouts of cum. Straining in the chair I freed her head to suck and bob as I came fully and Chloe sucked with a brimming mouth. She sprang up and spat the mouthful of cum in Summer’s face saying, “More to come honey.”



I got up and walked to look at Summer’s ass and pussy to check the shoe was still in place. “Hey…” I panted, eyeing Chloe who obligingly neared and ducked as I held her hair and pressed her down to kneel by the bed. I pushed her face in summer’s gushing wet cunt and knelt beside her to watch her tongue searching inside the lips and wet depths. Summer moaned and warmly sighed, sounding impassioned and pleased. Chloe seemed to echo her nasal sighs, licking with increasing eagerness and wetting her face in probing shudders of her chin. I held her by the hair and shook her face in the dripping pussy then tugged her away to her feet. I kissed her panting mouth and licked Summer’s cum off her face and told her to get the champagne and some anal beads.



She went promptly to the bag and dealt with its spilling contents. “We’re gonna get Chloe drunk.” I called to Summer who hummed an uneasy, nasal reply and tried to see the things Chloe was dealing with. Chloe brought over the champagne and a long, ominous, string of steel beads looking flushed and anxious to get on with Summer’s treatment. Her face was a mess.

***



Transgender-themed stories which I hope will be of interest to those who like women, or would like to be a woman. Which includes me!



***




“His name is Ken,” my friend Isabella had told me as she recounted her own encounter and that of her friend. “I got to first base with him that first time he came in the club. Just a quick snog and then he seemed to take fright.”



“Were you wearing that red dress, the one with holes down the sides? That with your thigh-boots, my dear, is liable to scare any man off,” I’d joked.



She’d grinned.



“No, just a tight dress, hardly a mini really. My classic LBD, though it’s a very deep purple, actually. You’ve seen it, remember? And the next week Carina got as far as him caressing a boob, but again he made some feeble excuse and left. Pity, he really is gorgeous.”



“Well, maybe he’ll be there again this week,” I’d suggested in commiseration.



“I’m not so sure. Anyway, I saw him. In town. That shoe shop near the fountain in the arcade? ‘Lenton’s’ isn’t it? He’s the new manager.”



“Right,” I’d said. The thought was a tempting one. “And you’re sure he was up for it.”



“Well, we thought so. We both did.”



“And he knew?”



“Knew what? Oh, that. Yes, definitely, no doubt about that. You could tell by the way he looked.”



“And he’s gorgeous, you say?”



“Oh yeah, a real dish.”



That had decided it. A ‘dish’ working in a shoe shop. Perfect! I couldn’t wait for the next Friday club night, I’d gone into town and made my way to Lenton’s. All ‘equipped’ if you know what I mean. I’d timed it to get there on the Thursday, just before 5.30. To buy shoes of course.



It was deliberate policy to arrive late, and it worked. I spent a couple of minutes looking in the window, Isabella was certainly right, there had been changes there. I’d looked in that window several times in the past, well, of course I had. Any woman like me would take any chance at all to look in a shoe shop window though not at the boring black and brown men’s’ shoes. And the window was different from the previous occasion I’d looked in there, maybe a month earlier. Gone were the sensible shoes, the low heels and comfortable slippers, or at least there were less of them there. In their place right in the middle were five or six pairs most definitely more to the taste of a woman like me. Lovely strappy heels, and very high heels at that.



And at the side, though not entirely to my own taste, one pair of distinctly fetish-like high-heeled boots, black and shiny and very studded. I could see Isabella in them, I really could. Definitely, this place had a new manager and he was stamping his own mark on the window display. Well, I hoped so. I’d gone for a mini-dress, of course, and my favourite wig. As I’d moved towards the shop door to push, it had opened and two young girls had been on the point of leaving.



“Goodnight Mr Jones,” they had both called, almost in unison.



“Goodnight Evelyn. Harriet. Oh, hello. Er – good evening.”



He’d seen me. He’d stuttered. I’d known that a tall leggy blonde tended to do that to a man, that’s why I’d chosen to wear my long platinum ‘big hair’ wig.



I checked his name badge to be sure I’d heard the two assistants right. ‘Kenneth Jones’. This was him. This was ‘Ken,’ the guy Isabella had been talking about.



I’d missed two weeks in a row at the club, family commitments you know. OK then, my mother had been to stay and there was absolutely no way I could have worn such a short skirt and heels while she’d been there. Mr Jones turned towards me, he just couldn’t help looking down at my legs again!



“I’m afraid we’re closing now. Maybe you could come back tomorrow.”



I looked disappointed.



“Oh dear, I’m looking for a pair of really high heels. I was so hoping to find something suitable tonight. I know it’s late….”



That did it.



“Well, maybe – er. Do come in.”



I slipped in past him and took off my long coat to reveal my tight mini-dress, my long legs and my high-ish heels. Only four inch heels though.



“Well, if you don’t mind me serving you, madam. I’m sure we can find something quite quickly.”



Yes! Got him, I could tell. But if I wasn’t mistaken, he hadn’t got it, not yet anyway. This could be even more fun that I’d anticipated.



“I’ll have to lock the door, to stop other customers coming in. Since we’re really closed, if you see what I mean.”



“That’s all right – er – Mr Jones,” I purred, peering again at his name badge.



“It’s Kenneth. But please, my friends call me Ken.”



“Thank you, Ken. And though I’m really Mrs Wilson, my friends call me Selena.”



Well, my friends at the club do.



“That’s a very nice name. If I may say so.”



Yes! Yes! I tried to blush, a bit difficult really, my make-up was designed to cover all sorts and probably hid any reddening cheeks as well. I smiled, aware of the effect of a rich red smile on a man, it usually worked. I’d taken so much care with my lipstick, I’m the sort of grrl who thinks a rich, red, quality smile works wonders. Kenneth smiled too. He turned to lock the door behind him, then moved to take my arm and lead me away from the front of the shop, round a slight bend where we wouldn’t be seen by anyone walking past along the arcade. Turning the lights off in the entrance, he turned towards me.



“How can I help you, Madam?”



“Selena,” I said.



“Sorry,” he replied.



“I’m looking for a pair of really sexy high heels, really high, and one of my girl friends recommended you,” I said in as sweet and sexy a voice as I could muster.



I’d always known I sounded good, it was a big plus in my game. A sexy femme voice I could do.



“Oh yes,” he answered. “To impress your husband maybe. Mr Wilson.”



“Oh no, I don’t want to impress that bastard. No, they’re just for me really. And to impress — anyone who might be impressed. If you see what I mean, Ken. I do like to dress attractively. And most men seem to find a woman’s legs look so much sexier in very high heels.”



I smiled, maybe a little seductively as I sat on a chair, away from the view from the door, and crossed my legs. The thought did occur to me — was I being TOO obvious?



“I so agree. I myself really appreciate a woman who can wear high heels though I know some can’t. Well, anything special?”



I looked up at him, he was positively leering at me. I struggled a little to remove my jacket, his expression confirming to me when he saw my cleavage that I’d judged him right.



“Well – er – Kenneth. The higher the better really.”



He knelt down in front of me and took my foot in his hand, examining it.



“You look like a size eight, Selena, rather a large size for a woman.”



Just for a moment I thought maybe he’d got it, but from the look on his face as he turned towards me I knew he still hadn’t. Not yet. Hell, how far could I take this? Kenneth took my shoe off, letting his fingers blatantly caress my silken-clad foot. I’d picked sheer black seamed stockings deliberately, experience had shown me they can drive a certain kind of man wild.



“Oooooh, Kenneth, that feels good. You have a very tender touch. You can do that some more if you like.”



And I just sat there, wallowing in delight and shivering with the sensuality of it all, as he smiled at me and continued to caress my feet. I was so glad I’d painted my toe-nails, the red-tipped toes were just visible through the dusky nylon of my stockings. I knew damn well the experiences, both visual and tactile, were exciting him.



“I think I have just what you want, I’ll be right back,” he said, standing and moving away towards a door near the back of the shop. I breathed deeply for a minute or so, trying to calm down.



Coming back with three shoe-boxes, Ken laid them on the floor and then sat on a little stool in front of me. He opened the first box and began his salesman’s patter.



“This is a big seller in our London branches,” he said as he smoothly slid the shoe onto my foot and hooked the tiny strap around my ankle, taking a little time to caress my lower leg a little more. “Do you see how it accentuates your leg?”



Ken kept talking as he worked, but I could see that his mind was focused on my legs. I had on a short, tight dress that tied at the waist and ended a few inches above my knees.



The effect was alluring but not blatantly sexual, and Kenneth was definitely attracted in some way to the ‘woman’ he was dealing with. He looked up into my eyes. Smoky grey and framed by long lashes, if I’d got it right they practically smouldered with passion. As he slid the other heel on, the front seam of my dress opened somewhat to expose one long leg. I could tell he was desperate to see even higher but I knew I had to play the game. He watched as I stood and strolled back and forth, trying to emphasise the sway of my hips. Smiling, I turned and pushed my right leg forward, that leg chosen because I knew it would make the split in my dress part high enough for him to see the exotic lace trim of my thigh-high stockings.



“Well?” Ken said. “What do you think?”



He looked, he smiled, he stared, he leered. I sat back down and crossed my legs again. I tipped my head seductively to one side.



“They are nice and I like the straps, but do you have something even sexier?” I asked.



“Sexier?”



“Yes. Higher heels I mean. These are – what – about four-inch heels? Maybe four-and-a-half? Well, I think I could wear something higher I think. Would you agree?”



“Oh yes, Selena.” He was definitely getting turned on by then. “I have another pair here, black patent stilettos, they have a six-inch heel.”



“Ooh, they sound just lovely. Do you think I could wear them? I mean, have I got the legs to carry them off?”



And with that I stretched my right leg right out, pulling the hem of my dress to one side to blatantly reveal my stocking tops and an expanse of bare thigh above.



“Oh, yes Selena. YES!”



He was loving the teasing, he clearly knew where it was leading — or so he thought. I was being so provocative, so promiscuous, there was only one possible outcome. Actually, though he didn’t know it, there were two, and it was number two I was looking forward to. I smiled in anticipation of the classic black high heels he’d promised. As he took my shoe off I took the opportunity to move my toes onto the upper part of his thigh, slowly letting my foot just touch the now-visible bulge in his trousers. As he moaned slightly, I just smiled as coquettishly as I could. By the time I tried on the first of the gorgeous black heels my dress was sliding a little higher on my thighs, so high I was sure he would be able to see the vee of my tiny black thong.



Ken’s hand lifted my leg to slip the shoe on and in the process I opened my thighs just a little more, giving him a peek of that most intimate item of silk lingerie. He was having difficulty controlling himself, I could see. Trembling ever so slightly, he watched almost breathlessly as I slid my second foot in. He couldn’t take his eyes off me, I was damn near to cumming in my thong myself, everything was straining inside there. I’d dressed for the occasion, I knew my body was the classic hourglass shape, big tits, small waist, and full hips. My black bustier was straining to hold my bulging ‘breasts’ and I knew he’d be able to see the outline of my ‘nipples’ through the black lace of the bra.



After putting the shoe on, Ken let his fingers trail up my leg yet again, and even higher than before. The feel of his hands sliding gently up the nylon of my stocking was now sending shivers through me too. He must have heard my sharp intake of breath as his hands edged closer to the tops of my stockings. His eyes locked on mine, our faces moved together. He was watching as I teasingly licked my shining red lips, an act so sensual I almost felt his heart pounding. Abruptly Ken pulled back, and as he did he slid his hand smoothly down my leg.



“Selena….”



He was going to say something significant, I knew, but I was puzzled. He’d brought three shoe boxes. I interrupted him, asking what was in the third box. He seemed disappointed, the moment had passed but I knew it would return. I was going to make damn sure it did!



“Well, these are my favourites,” Ken said, opening the box to reveal the most beautiful pair of high heels I’d seen in my life.



OK, so black stilettos, though that phrase didn’t do them justice. Black shoes, with a two inch platform and a silver dagger-thin spiked heel which must have been at least eight inches long, with silver straps which would be cross-hatched up the ankle and tied about five inches higher.



“Oh my God, Kenneth. They’re gorgeous, they’re obscene! They’re positively pornographic!” I exclaimed.



Ken was leering again. I know he wanted to see me wearing them and he knew I needed to wear them! I slipped off the previous pair and stretched a leg towards him.



“OK then Ken, it’s up to you.”



He slid the shoe onto my foot, caressing my ankles again and still having problems controlling his breathing, he was clearly SO aroused. And I myself wasn’t exactly calm as he laced the silver straps of the high heel around my leg and over my calf, where he tied them off. Holding my leg out straight he admired his handiwork.



“How about the other one, Selena? I’m sure you will fall in love with them.”



It was a rhetorical question and lifting my other leg he began to ‘dress’ my left foot. I was having difficulty coping too, he could tell the whole experience was doing something for me. It was doing a lot! My breathing was shallow now as he finished lacing the second heel. Reaching out to help me up, he watched as I paraded in front of him. OK so I’d worn very high heels before but never anything so high and so beautiful. I reached out a hand to Kenneth, he stood up and helped me to steady myself.



“Well, what do you think?”



He just stared at me, at my legs, at my figure, at my over-done makeup and long blonde hair.



“Yes, you’re right. Obscene is the word, you look positively orgasmic.”



I allowed him to pull me a little closer, pretending that I was using him to help balance myself. His hand slid round my waist, too quickly for me to do anything about it. Not that I would have done.



“Well, what do you think now?”



I knew what he was thinking, the whole dressing-up earlier that evening had been with that moment in mind. Perched on the eight-inch high heels and with my big boobs and my blonde hair flowing down my back, I knew that I was his sexual fantasy come alive. Or at least, one version of that fantasy. But — how might he react to a different version? I knew I would find out soon.



“I think – oh my God, I just love them!” I exclaimed.



I looked down at the reflection of my adorned feet in the low mirror, specially put there for exactly that purpose. I paused and grinned sexily at Kenneth.



“Now, you can see the full effect. What do YOU think?”



I thrust a leg towards him again allowing the folds of my dress to part, giving him a good eyeful of the tops of my stockings. He reached out a hand towards me, leering in a rather disgusting manner. I took his hand and squeezed it slightly. Part of me wanted him to take me there and then, I was desperate to thrust my tongue between his lips and feel his big masculine hands pawing my feminised body. Yet another part of me didn’t want that, I wanted to delay even more. I wanted to stretch out the seduction, to revel in my own anticipation as well as his, of the moment when surely he was going to give me a good old-fashioned shagging.



“Selena, I am so lucky to feast my eyes on the beauty I see before me. Come with me, into my office. I have a long mirror in there, you can see the full effect.”



Oh yes, I did so want to see that. I kept hold of his hand tightly to help me balance again as he led me towards a door at the back of the shop and into a small room. Not very fancy, more functional, a desk and a computer and a small wide armchair, almost a sofa. And facing me, a huge full-height mirror. I looked, I gasped.



“Oh my, Mr Jones, they are just gorgeous. I’ll definitely have them.”



“I rather thought you might, Mrs Wilson.”



I giggled, somehow we’d both become much more formal. Kenneth was standing behind me as I posed and turned to inspect my reflection.



“You were hinting, Mrs Wilson, that such an exotic purchase was maybe not for your husband’s benefit? If you don’t mind my asking.”



I was loving it, I had obviously ‘dressed’ so much more effectively than ever before. Or maybe – the thought began to worry me – either Isabella had judged him wrong, or even that this was the wrong Kenneth! I decided I had to continue.



“Oh no, he doesn’t really appreciate my attraction any more. After all, I’m not the young girl I once was.”



True!



“Really, Mrs Wilson. You are not doing yourself justice. Many men would just love to be in the company of a stunningly-dressed woman like yourself, I promise you.”



“Why thank you, Mr Jones. That is so kind.”



And I turned and kissed him, just briefly, on the cheek. Kenneth enjoyed that, I could tell, but I wanted more and I was sure he did too.



“So, maybe I’ll be lucky soon. Find another man, I mean.”



“Maybe,” he said.



He was standing behind me, looking past me, staring at my reflection. I felt his body press against mine as he moved closer.



“Oh dear, Mrs Wilson. Your stockings, they have been disturbed a little, maybe I should smoothe them for you. It takes a special kind of woman to carry off stockings like that, I think.”



“Where?” I asked, knowing full well that there was nothing at all wrong with my stockings as I slid my dress to one side to ‘inspect’ them.



“Allow me?” he asked, looking into my eyes.



“Of course, Mr Jones” I muttered, rather coyly I hoped.



So I stood there as I watched Kenneth, in the mirror, reach down beside me, stretching his hand across to slide it smoothly but firmly from my knee and right up my right leg, lifting my dress to reveal my bare smooth thigh and approach my thong. I was shaking, I was desperate. The tightly trapped secret between my legs under my black thong was aching for release. I knew it couldn’t be long and so desperately hoped Isabella had ‘read’ this guy right – if it indeed was him. Otherwise he might not like his surprise!



I almost passed out with the excitement of it all.



“Oh my, Kenneth, that feels so SO good!”



He was caressing the upper part of my thigh, very slowly moving his hand towards my crotch. I was breathing deeply as he leaned across and amorously began to tease my ear with his tongue.



“You deserve to feel good, Selena, you so deserve it.”



And I felt for the first time that evening what I’d wanted, needed, I felt Kenneth pushing his erection hard against me.



“God Selena, I so want to …”



“What do you want, Kenneth?”



I was squirming, my thong was close to popping point.



“I want to ….”



He didn’t say it, he did it. His other hand snaked round and pulled the tie on my dress, allowing it to slip from my shoulders and fall onto the floor. The same hand then moved up to cup my bra-covered breasts as I began to shake uncontrollably. And is if that wasn’t enough, the hand which had been threatening to uncover my lack of cunt, if you see what I mean, changed direction. I watched as it slid round my waist and began to tease the crack in my arse. I shifted my legs apart, an indication that I approved – and I was ready.



“God, Selena. I’ve always dreamed of having a woman like you, like this.”



“What do you mean?” I managed to ask as his caresses became more vigorous, as



I gazed at his fingers sliding across my black bra and manipulating my breast-forms, the most realistic and the most expensive I’d ever bought.



I heard a sound. An unzipping sound. I felt Kenneth’s fingers sliding down the crack in my arse, then I felt – something else. Yes! Oh my God, yes, I couldn’t believe it, he was there!

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