Posts Tagged ‘lingerie’

Summer Wayne, a high school English teacher, has fallen under the direction of a high school student after he has discovered her recent postings at a public website. The poor English teacher has just finished a weekend where she has received piercings in her ear, nipples and pussy lips. She has been forced to buy a complete new wardrobe that is both sexy and tight fitting, which is not what she would ever wear to school. Summer’s best friend has discovered her submissiveness and has planned to take complete control of her mind and body. Summer’s Master, has plans for his new slave beginning with school on Monday.



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Summer, still feeling the effects of the beer, tequila and the sex with Lisa and Steve stumbled to her bedroom. She could not believe that her Sunday afternoon had seen her be subjected to domination by her best friend and her husband. To make matters worse, Summer was sure that her next door neighbor, Sam Johnson had seen the whole episode as Lisa forced her deeper into submission. Summer was confused by how her body reacted to the insults, degradation and forced sex. As she lay her head down onto her Egyptian cotton pillow case, Summer’s hands began to roan over her body, first stopping to tweak her erect and pierced nipples. As she became more aroused, her right hand found her hardening clit that continued to be stimulated by the events of the day.



Summer’s hands were working their magic on her body and it did not take much effort to have her on the brink of yet another orgasm. Just as she reached the edge, Summer’s cell phone buzzed. “Damn, who the hell can that be at this time of the night,” she quietly said to herself.



Summer looked at the phone and saw Master T’s name pop up on her phone id. Summer hesitated for a few more rings as she pondered whether or not to answer the phone. Just then the buzzing stopped and Summer smiled to herself believing that she had avoided a late night confrontation from her young Master.



Summer was jolted from her deep sleep by the morning alarm clock and its aggravating buzz at her customary 5:30 AM wake up. She hit the snooze for ten more minutes of rest before she started her day. When the alarm sounded its aggravating tone again, Summer hit the off button and crawled out of bed. As she walked into the bathroom to empty her bladder, Summer looked into the mirror and she was stunned by the size of her nipples and how the piercings made them look so much more profound. After relieving herself, Summer walked up to the mirror and gave each nipple a tweak and examined the reaction each had to her touch. She paid particular attention to the piercings hoping to find a way to remove them. But, the size of the bars on each end was too large and she remembered the soldering job performed by Marcos in his shop.



Summer slipped on her white silk robe, her house slippers with the one inch heels and headed for the kitchen for her first cup of coffee. On her way to the kitchen, Summer went out onto her porch to retrieve the morning newspaper. Because hers and James’ house sat so far from the street, they paid the paper boy a little extra to place it on their porch each morning. Summer thought it was strange that the paper was propped against the door, but she thought nothing more about it.



As Summer reached the kitchen, the aroma from her dark South American coffee beans pleasantly filled her nostrils. She added half and half creamer, took the paper from its plastic wrap and opened it to read. That is when she found the manila envelop. On the outside of the envelop were the chilling words, “SLUT, YOU DID NOT ANSWER YOUR PHONE LAST NIGHT. CALL ME IMMEDIATELY BEFORE YOU OPEN THIS ENVELOP.”



“Oh my god,” was all Summer could say.



Without taking a sip of her coffee, Summer headed for the bedroom to retrieve her cell phone. She saw the missed call reflected on the touch screen of the phone and her whole body shuddered with fear of what may happen to her. As her fingers pressed the speed dial number for Master T, tears welled up in Summer’s eyes as the reality of her situation once again thrust upon her.



Master T simply answered, “What took you so long to call me slut?”



Summer did not know what to say other than, “Master T, I only just now found your note. I went to sleep last night and did not hear your call.”



“Because of your non-compliance and refusal to take my call, I have taken the liberty of posting several pictures to an email and have sent it to you. Go to your home computer, take the envelope with you and call me when you have opened my email. Do not open the envelope,” and Master T hung up.



Summer stumbled down the hall way to the office that was just off her the master bedroom. The office consisted of the desk that she shared with her husband James, two wing back chairs, a credenza and pictures of her family from various trips they had taken together. She logged onto the computer and opened her email. Summer called Master T as she had been directed.



Master T, answered in a harsh tone, “Slut have you opened your email from me?” Summer quickly replied that she had. Master T then instructed her to read the email and then call him after she had complied with the emailed instructions.



The email read:



“Slut, you have disobeyed me for the last time. You knew that you were to talk to me before you went to bed last night to get your instructions for today. But because you are a worthless cunt, I have had to send you this email and driven across town to give you instructions for your fist day in school as my slut. Your first day was going to be a little easier, but now things are different. Your non-compliance has forced me to alter my plans for you and your servitude at school. You may now open the envelope and read its contents for further instructions.” The email was signed Master T



Before she could open the envelope, Summer had to compose herself. She had woken up with a better feeling about herself and the he that Master T would not interfere with her morning routine. She was not naïve enough to think that he was done with her, but she had been hopeful to drink her morning coffee and prepare for her day.



Summer opened the envelope and she poured its contents onto the desk in the office. The manila envelope contained two smaller envelopes. She looked at both of the envelopes and as she expected, they were to be opened in order. She opened the envelope marked “Open First”. The envelope contained several folded sheets of paper. As she opened them she realized that they were pictures downloaded from a camera and printed on regular stock paper. The pictures were of her and Sarah from Saturday at Marcos’ piercing salon. One of the pictures plainly reflected Summer’s face buried in Sarah’s pussy, the second showed her lying on the table playing with her pussy with the gold lip rings clearly visible and the third picture showed her with a cock jammed down her throat with her eyes wide open.



Summer opened the second envelope and was almost relieved to find only a one page letter written by Master T. It began, “Slut, you have seen some obvious proof that you are a slut, that you enjoy being made to please and that you have no will of your own. Unfortunately, you do not fully grasp the depth of your submission. So, today we will begin re-enforcing your position of a complete submissive slut and my position as your Master. You are to get dressed in the black skirt and white blouse that you purchased on Saturday. You are to wear the yellow see through bra and thong panties along with the black garter belt and back seamed hose. You are to wear the four inch black pumps. You are to apply a heavy amount of make-up so as to highlight your eyes and cheeks. Your lips must be covered by your reddest lipstick. Finally, you will make sure that your hair is wildly styled making sure that your new left ear piercing is visible all day. You will meet me in your class room at 6:30 AM. Do not be late.”



Summer raised her hand to her mouth when she realized that it was now 5:45 AM and the drive to the school took her fifteen minutes. She quickly shut the computer down, took the pictures and tore them up. Summer ran down the hall to the bedroom and quickly took a shower to wash the cum stains from the day before. The water caused her nipples to become even more erect. After her shower, Summer quickly applied her make-up the way Master T had demanded by paying particular attention to her eyelids and giving them a dark blue tint to highlight her eyes. Ordinarily, Summer would take a great deal of time in transforming her hair from a weekend style that was free and flowing to the conservative bun she usually wore at school. But today, she used lots of hair spray and mousse to force her hair to hold its place and allow her gold loop earring with the three red beads to be clearly seen.



When Summer was satisfied that she had met Master T’s requirements, she quickly slipped on her garter belt, adjusted the clasp and attached the black back seamed hose first to her right leg and then to her left leg. Once she was satisfied that the seams were straight, she pulled on her yellow string thong. Summer noticed that the thong seemed to touch her clit and spread her pussy lips. She looked down and the new lip rings were clearly visible. Summer adjusted the thin material of the thong and was able to slide the gold rings inside the material. Next Summer slipped on the matching yellow bra. Immediately Summer noticed that the material of the bra made it quite obvious that her nipples had piercings and that her nipples were very prominent as they stood very erect, which she was sure is why Todd had ordered her to wear the yellow lingerie. Summer told herself to not worry about that right now and get dressed.



Summer quickly slid the white blouse on and believed that it was almost see through. As she stood before the bathroom mirror, Summer began buttoning the blouse and it was quite possible that anyone paying just the slightest attention to her would be able to make out the details of her nipples and would almost certainly be able to see the gold rod piercings. Summer quickly grabbed the black skirt and slipped it on. Immediately Summer knew why Master T had requested this particular skirt. The slits on the sides stopped at just below the lace tops of her hose and would not be noticeable when she stood, but when she was seated, Summer was sure that anyone would be able to see the very tops of the lace of the hose. The skirt was very tight and would cause her all kinds of trouble walking the halls of the school.



Summer gathered her make up into her daily bag, grabbed her wooden brush, checked her hair one more time and rand down the hall. As she started the engine in her BMW, she saw that she only had 10 minutes to make it to the school by 6:30 so she knew that she would have to exceed the speed limit to make it on time, hoping all the while that she would not encounter a police patrol.



Summer pulled into the school parking lot at 6:35 thankfully having successfully dodged any traffic mishaps or police cruisers as she roared down the back streets to her school. Summer grabbed her pocket book and school bag and made a mad dash to the school. She was able to get into her classroom in less than 5 minutes, but Master T was not in her room. She looked at the school clock and noticed that the time was actually 6:40 and wondered where Todd, err… Master T was.



Summer was startled when she heard the door to her classroom slammed shut. She turned from her desk and saw that her Master had entered the room. She stared him directly in the eyes and could feel his anger at her being tardy. Summer then heard his first words, “Slut, what took you so long to get here?”



“Todd, I drove as fast as I could to get here. I only now noticed that my watch is 10 minutes slow. I thought that I was on time’, Summer replied.



“How dare you refer to me as Todd? What is my name slut?”



Summer began to cower just a bit and quickly responded, “Your name is Master T, sir.”



Todd walked up to his submissive high school teacher, grabbed her by each nipple and screamed into her face, “Slut when I tell you to be some where be there on time, no matter how long it takes to get there or what obstacles you have to avoid, DO NOT BE LATE, EVER!”



Summer could only muster a “Yes Sir” as Todd continued to pull and twist her nipples through her blouse and bra. He was being careful not to rip the nipple piercings out of her flesh, but Todd was driving home the point that she would do as he demanded.



Todd released the poor teacher’s nipples and directed her to the middle of the classroom, where she was told to take her blouse and skirt off. When Summer hesitated, Todd uttered only, “NOW”!



Summer lifted her hands and began unbuttoning the top button and worked her way down the blouse until all of the buttons had been opened and the blouse had been pulled from the skirt. Without waiting for further instructions, Summer shrugged her shoulders and let the blouse fall away from her body. She placed the blouse on the nearest student’s desk and then reached around behind her and unzipped the black skirt and began pulling it down over her hips until it lay on the floor at her feet. She reached down to retrieve, it, but Master T said, “Leave it there slut.”



Then Summer’s Master ordered her to bend over her desk. Without objection, Summer moved to her desk, leaned over and placed her palms on the top of the desk. She was ordered by her Master to lay flat on top of the desk. Summer was wearing her black garter belt and hose, the yellow lingerie and her four inch black pumps. Summer looked up and pleaded, “But Master someone might come in and find me in this position. Please do not make me do this.” Todd’s silence told Summer everything she needed to know. As she placed her chest onto her desk, she felt frightened about the possibility of being discovered by a colleague, the janitorial staff or an early arriving student. She closed her eyes and listened to her Master.



“Slut, you have displeased me and that is an unfortunate event for you. I have told you that you are to be punctual and do what I say when I say to do it. Last night you did not answer my call. Today you were 10 minutes late reporting to me. For each offense you will receive ten strokes with your wooden hair brush. Where is your brush slut?” Todd demanded.



“But Master, someone will hear the noise from the strokes and my screams. Please, please I beg you. I will do anything you tell me to and I promise to never be late,” pleaded the poor English teacher.



Todd looking down at his conquest replied, “I know you will do all those things and more for me slut. But right now, you are going to be punished for your non-compliance to ensure that the next time you think about not complying, you will remember my lesson to you. Now where is your brush slut?”



Summer told Todd that her brush was in her pocket book. As he retrieved it, he gazed down on the outstretched teacher with her ass exposed for anyone to see. As he moved behind his slut, Todd looked down between Summer’s legs and he could see the pussy lip rings peaking out from the thin material of her yellow thong. He put his feet between Summer’s legs and forced her legs even further apart. Todd then stepped to the left side of Summer and using his right hand he brought down the brush harshly onto her left ass cheek.



Summer screamed, but it was a low, barely audible scream. Todd did not dare risk being discovered so he reached into his back pack and brought out the black egg that he purchased for Summer over the weekend. It was a remote control version that was roughly two inches in diameter. Todd walked to the side of the desk where Summer’s head was and he told her to open her mouth. As she did, Todd forced the black egg into her mouth. Then Todd said, “Hold that in your mouth so that your screams cannot be hear slut.”



Todd checked his watch and it was getting pretty close to the time that the other teachers on his slut’s hall began arriving for the day. He rushed through the twenty strokes with the hair brush making sure to mark the ass in the same place. When he finished he ordered Summer to stand before him.



Todd then instructed Summer to take the egg out of her mouth and to insert it into her pussy. When Summer hesitated, all Todd did was begin to pick up his back pack and while looking straight into Summer’s eyes said, “Okay slut. If that is what you want it, I will be more than happy to send the emails that are already in my personal and private email folders to everyone in your address book as well as Principal Harding. I am sure that Mr. Harding will be quite surprised to find out that the head of his English Department was having sex with one of her students as well as seeing her actively enjoying sucking another woman’s pussy. And let’s not forget your poor husband James, who is working so hard for my father’s company in Asia. I wonder what he will think when he sees pictures of you with the shoe salesman.”



Summer realizing her fate was tied to her submission to her student quickly replied, “No Master, please don’t leave. I promise to do as you tell me.”



With that, Summer lowered the egg to her pussy, pulled aside the small patch of material between her legs and pushed the black egg inside. She noticed that coming out of one end of the egg was a black wire. She reasoned that it would be used to pull the egg back out should it go to high up inside her.



When she had full inserted the egg into her pussy, she pleaded again, “Master please do not go. I promise to do anything and everything you tell me to whenever you tell me to do it.”



Todd turned around at the door to the classroom and said, “Ok slut. We will see. Now get dressed and enjoy your day.”



Todd opened the door to the class room and walked away without closing it back. Summer quickly realized her predicament and ran to close the door. As she turned to walk back to her desk, the egg in her pussy began vibrating. The egg’s vibrating jolted Summer so much that she had to grasp the side of her desk to steady herself. Just as quickly, the vibrating stopped and Summer realized that the black cord was not for retrieving the egg, but it served as a receiver wire for the hand held transmitter that Master T would have with him today. Summer thought to herself, “Oh my god. What will he do to me today?”



Summer hurriedly pulled on her skirt and slipped her arms into the sleeves of the white blouse. The skirt of course was slightly wrinkled because she had been ordered to leave it in a pile on the floor. As she completed buttoning the last button, the morning announcements for staff came blaring over the intercom system. Summer looked at the school clock and saw that it was now 7:00 AM.



Summer went about her morning routine in her room. At about 7:20, someone from the office called over the intercom and requested that Summer report to the office. All Summer could think about was that Todd had sent the information anyway and that her life as she knew it would be over. Summer quickly adjusted her blouse and tried to pull her skirt down so that the tops of her hose would not show as she walked. The tightness of the skirt across her ass and her four inch pumps made walking a new adventure for Summer. She had to learn how to put one foot in front of the other like the models she had seen on television late at night. Summer got the hang of it by over exaggerating the swaying of her hips, which made walking somewhat easier. She noticed the looks she was receiving from the other teachers, men mostly, in the hall as well as some of the early arriving students. Those glares and stares unnerved, but somewhat turned Summer on as she continued her walk down the hall.



Once she reached the administrative office, Summer was surprised by the number of students in the office as well as the number of adults, some parents and other teachers. Summer felt all of the eyes in the office on her. She walked up to the front desk and asked who had requested that she come to the office. Shirley, from back in the office blurted out, “Ms. Wayne we have a package that was delivered this morning and that it was marked urgent.”

Everyone in the office turned to look at Summer as Shirley slowly walked across the office floor to reach her. As she handed the package to Summer, Shirley was able to look directly at Summer’s blouse and she thought she could see the outlines of piercings. Shirley held the envelope a little too long and Summer had to pull it from Shirley’s fingers.



As Summer turned to walk away, she heard Shirley say, “Ms. Wayne I love the new piercing that you have. When did you get your ear pierced?”



Summer was both embarrassed and relieved to be able to answer, “Shirley, I got the new earring this past weekend as sort of a surprise to my husband James. He will be home in about a month, and I wanted it to be something that he would love.”



As Summer continued on her way out of the office, she felt the eyes of every person there on her. The hallway was now over crowded with students and she could hear whispers and caught the boys gawking at her while the girls all seemed to view her with disgust.



As Summer reached the door to her classroom, the bell rang for the first period to begin. As she walked to her desk, she glanced around the classroom and for the first time in several days, she seemed to have everyone’s full attention. Summer sat behind her desk because she did not want to dare give the students too much of a view of her legs and the opportunity to see the tops of her stockings. She began the period by instructing the students to turn to page 210 of the novel they were currently reading as a class project.



As Summer followed along silently at her desk, she suddenly felt the egg in her pussy begin to vibrate. The strength of the vibration caused her to gasp out loud. One of the students in the first row heard the gasp and asked if she was ok. Summer could only nod and tell the student she was fine. As the egg’s vibration continued to work its magic on her pussy, Summer felt her body begin to react to the stimulation and she was fast approaching an orgasm. She tried to squeeze off the approaching orgasm, but it was too no avail as her body paid no attention to her brain and erupted in orgasm. Summer grasped the edge of her desk and pushed her pelvic region down into her office chair to try and suppress the urge to scream out loud. She felt sweat beginning to form on her forehead as the intensity of her orgasm began to subside, but the vibrations of the egg only intensified. As she began to approach a second orgasm, Summer stared intently at the book on her desk paying no attention to her class with every eye now firmly affixed on their English teacher.



Summer was startled when the vibration in her pussy stopped just before her body succumbed to the second orgasm. Summer could not see, but Todd was standing just outside of her classroom and his remote control’s range was just perfect to affect her from outside of the room. Summer looked up from her book and found the eyes of her students all fixed on her. She cleared her throat, stood up and excused herself to go to the bathroom. She instructed the class to continue reading and keep the room noise down to a dull roar.



After their teacher left the room, Cindy, the head cheerleader was the first to ask, “What in the heck is wrong with Ms. Wayne?” The girls to her left and right all shook their heads and said they had no idea. The boys in the back of the room were only able to speak about the outline of her nipples that they could see directly through Ms. Wayne’s blouse. One of the boys whispered that he swore that he saw Ms. Wayne’s nipples with piercing. The other boys just pooh pawed that comment saying that she was to uptight to have something like that done to her. About that time, the bell indicating that it was time to change classes began to ring. All of the students in Summer’s room packed their things and headed out of the door.



Summer was leaning against the stall door of the faculty bathroom when Shirley, from the front office came in. She was clearly concerned with the way Summer looked and asked, “Ms. Wayne are you ok? You look like you have been put through the ringer.”



Summer was brought out of her stupor by Shirley’s interruption in the bathroom. Summer looked at Shirley and said, “No, nothing is wrong really. I just felt a little faint and rushed in here from my class.”



Summer caught Shirley giving her the once over taking in the clothes that she had on. Shirley then asked, “Summer, I have never seen you dressed the way you are today. What has come over you dear?”



Summer looked down and she could see that her nipples were poking through her bra and it was very evident that her nipples were pierced as the balls on each end of the bars were pressed against the material of the yellow bra and sheer blouse. Summer also noticed that her run to the bathroom and her pose against the stall had caused her skirt to hike up above the tops of her stockings and it was very evident that she was wearing a garter belt.



Summer lied and said that she was going to a cocktail party for James’ company after work and did not think that she would have time to go home and change. Summer walked over to the lavatory and began washing her hands. After drying her hands, Summer ran her hands through her hair making sure that the earring was still clearly visible. As she steadied herself to head back to her classroom, she pulled at the hem of her skirt, but before she could get out of the door, Shirley asked, “Ms. Wayne I am not sure if you are aware, but your yellow bra is quite visible through your blouse. And, if I am not mistaken, I can make out the outline of your nipples. Have you had your nipples pierced also?”



Summer stopped in her tracks and tried to pose a reasonable response to Shirley’s probing questions. Summer knew that she was Mr. Harding’s pet and if you ever got on her wrong side, life at the school would be awful. Summer spun around and looked at Shirley, who had a smug look on her face.



“Well Shirley, you are right. I did get them pierced this weekend because James asked me to. I am having to be careful with what I have pressed against the piercings as my nipples are still a little sensitive, so that is why I am wearing the yellow bra. I did not realize that I had worn this particular blouse until I got here this morning. I just did not have time to change,” replied Summer.



Shirley, looking incredulously at Summer said, “Ms. Wayne I would have never thought that you would be the type of woman who would desecrate her body with piercings. I think that you are like those women who hang around bars and look for men. I do not believe that that is the type of person who should be teaching at this school. I am afraid I am going to have to tell Mr. Harding about this Ms. Wayne.”



Summer quickly replied, “Now wait a minute Shirley. I have only done something for my husband and it has nothing to do with how I teach or work. I am sorry that you find the idea of piercings offensive, but that really is none of your business.”



Summer could tell she was walking on thin ice with Shirley because even if Mr. Harding did not really care whether or not she had piercings, Shirley would not let up. Summer had to do something to keep Shirley from going to Mr. Harding. As she moved away from the lavatory towards the door, she looked at Shirley and asked, “Shirley, why can’t we just leave this between us. I can appreciate your issues with my piercings and you can appreciate my desire to please my husband.”



“I do not see how I can agree to that Ms. Wayne as I just find it too disgusting to allow it to go unreported,” replied Shirley.



“Please Shirley, can’t we work this out together and not get Mr. Harding involved?” pleaded Summer.



Shirley quickly answered, “I just do not know how that would be possible.”



Summer then asked, “What about the piercings do you find offensive, Shirley?”



Shirley told Summer that just the fact that she would do that was disgusting and she could not see how the piercings could be anything more than disgusting body desecration. Trying to find a way to avoid Shirley going to Mr. Harding, Summer thought she saw an opening and said, “Shirley how about I let you see the piercings so that you can see that they are meant to be erotic and for my husband’s private pleasure?”



“No, I do not want to see them Ms. Wayne,” replied Shirley.



“But, Shirley, won’t you at least let me prove to you that they are beautiful and will bring him pleasure,” Summer questioned.



Shirley’s body language began to give her real feelings away as her eyes were going from Summer’s breasts to her eyes. Summer could see a few drops of sweat developing on Shirley’s brow so she pushed the envelope with Shirley. “So, Shirley, I am going to unbutton my blouse for you to be able to get a clearer view of the piercings” Summer said as her fingers immediately went to the top button on her blouse. Summer watched Shirley’s eyes follow her hands as they moved down her blouse unbuttoning each button. When Summer completed unbuttoning her white blouse, she pulled it open and pressed her chest forward so that her nipples would strain against the sheer fabric of her yellow bra. Summer noticed that Shirley was now just looking from nipple to nipple without even glancing up at her eyes.



Summer looked down and she could see her nipples were erect and she knew that Shirley could see the full outline of her nipples as well as being able to clearly make-out the gold posts of her nipple piercings. She paused for several minutes gauging Shirley’s reaction and then she pressed further feeling like she was control of events around her for the first time in several days. Summer says to Shirley, “Why don’t you just reach out and touch the gold bars. Touching them will not hurt me.”



Shirley seemed to be in a trance. In all of her fifty years she had never been so close to such beautiful breasts. She had always admired Ms. Wayne whenever they were close and she was envious of the way she had been able to keep her body in such fine shape. Shirley, was not an old prude or dumpy in anyway, but she represented Mr. Harding and so she had to be careful about her desires and needs, especially after her husband died prematurely of cancer three years ago.



Summer said again to Shirley, “It is alright. Go ahead and touch each one. I promise not to bite.” With that Summer edged closer to Shirley and deftly took Shirley’s right hand and moved it up to her breast. Summer then moved Shirley’s index finger and lightly touched the outline of the piercing of her right breast and then she moved Shirley’s hand across her chest to her left breast where she again touched the outline of the piercing as well as the her nipple with Shirley’s index finger.



Summer could see Shirley’s chest moving and her eyes darting from one breast to the other. Summer released Shirley’s hand, but she did not move it away from her breast. Shirley slowly circled the pierced nipple which made Summer’s erect nipple harden even more. Without evening offering any encouragement, Summer felt Shirley’s left hand cup her right breast and she began to lightly squeeze the breast. Meanwhile, Shirley continued to touch the nipple piercing in Summer’s left breast.



Summer seizing the moment instructed Shirley to pull on both nipple piercings so that she could see that they were permanently fixed in place and that she could see how the nipples would be stimulated by James’ touch. Almost on cue, Shirley began to lightly tug at the English teacher’s nipples. Summer took Shirley’s left hand and slid it to the flesh of her cleavage and then helped Shirley slip inside the sheer bra to Summer’s nipple. Summer grabbed the back of Shirley’s left elbow and pulled it towards her chest. Shirley’s breathing continued to get deeper and Summer could hear slight moans emanating from Shirley’s mouth.



“Shirley, take my breast out of the bra so that you can gain better access to it,” Summer instructed. Shirley did as she was told using both hands to free one and then the other of Summer’s breasts. Now Shirley was lost in Summer’s breasts and because of their height proximity, Shirley was slightly bending over to be able to look more closely at the piercings.



“Shirley, go ahead and touch my nipples with your tongue,” Summer whispered. At the same time she placed her hand on the back of Shirley’s head and moved her towards her breasts. Shirley offered not resistance and quickly took Summer’s right nipple into her mouth. Shirley began tonguing the piercing first and then started to rotate her tongue around the large areola of Summer’s breast. Summer then instructed Shirley to take the other breast into her mouth so that she paid appropriate attention to both nipples. Shirley did as directed without any resistance. Summer quietly enjoyed this new found dominance and quite liked having power over a helpless person.



As Shirley continued to worship the breasts, Summer began to feel her pussy moistening more than when it was first stimulated by the egg that was stuck up into the far reaches of her pussy.



Summer continued pressing Shirley by instructing her, “Shirley I want you to pull on one nipple while you suck the other. While you are doing that, I want to hear you breathe so that I know you are enjoying pleasing me.”



Shirley pulled her lips away from Summer’s breast, looking up into Summer’s eyes said, “Ms. Wayne, I have never ever tasted another woman’s breast before, but yours are wonderful.”



Just then the bell rang signaling the end of second period, which was the shortened period for a high school homeroom. “Shit”, Summer exclaimed as she pulled Shirley away from her breasts. She then said to Shirley, “I do not think we will have a problem with you knowing about my piercings. If you do, I will give you another opportunity to touch and suck my breasts. Are you willing to do that for me Shirley?”



Shirley quickly responded, “Yes Ms. Wayne, it will be our little secret.”



The two women smiled at one another and Summer quickly buttoned her blouse, tucked it into her tight black , checked her make-up to make sure it had not be smeared by her bathroom encounter, checked her hair to make sure the earring was still visible and then gave Shirley a hug as she headed out of the bathroom. Summer smiled to herself and thought that she might have some fun at Shirley’s expense some time in the near future. It was nice to be able to force someone to do something for her pleasure for a change.



Just as she entered the class room, the egg in Summer’s pussy went off. She grabbed the door frame and was thankful that the students had already left for their third period classes. Summer had a planning period right now so she would not be disturbed by any students. But, Summer’s tormentor entered the classroom right behind her as the egg was continuing to work its magic on her pussy.



Todd placed his hand on Summer’s back and moved her towards her desk. Once she reached the edge of the desk, Todd applied pressure to force Summer onto her belly flat down on the desk. As Summer’s breasts touched the desk, she could feel Todd between her legs placing his feet against the insides of her feet as he applied pressure to force her legs open. Because of the tightness of the skirt, Todd had to set the controller down onto Summer’s desk so that he could use both hands to pull the skirt up over her hips.



Once Todd was satisfied that he had complete access to his slut teacher’s ass, he turned off the vibrating egg buried deep in his teacher’s pussy. When she realized that the egg was no longer vibrating, Summer let out a soft moan and quickly said, “Master please turn it back on as I am so close to coming.”



Todd said nothing as he stepped away from the very tempting ass displayed before him. He reached into his back pack and pulled out a red Sharpie medium point pen and he quickly wrote in block print letters, “I am” on Summer’s left ass cheek and “A Slut” on her right ass cheek. He then pulled his handy digital camera out of the back pack and began taking pictures of his outstretched teacher.



Summer, realizing that she was once again being subjected to degrading pictures said to her tormenter, “Master, please don’t take anymore pictures. Don’t you have enough already?”



All Todd did was to walk around to the end of the desk where his English teacher slut’s head was, unzipped his pants, pulled out his now fully erect cock and instructed his slut to raise her head up off the desk and suck his cock. With his camera, Todd was able to catch Summer’s opened mouth just as his cock slide forward. He glanced at the view finder on the back of the camera and he was quite pleased with the image of his cock resting on his slut’s lips.



Todd began fucking his cock in and out of his slut’s mouth and as he grew nearer to orgasm, he reached down and picked up the remote controller for the egg in Summer’s pussy. He flicked the switch on to level 10 on the controller and he immediately saw Summer’s hips press down hard against her desk. He could feel her moaning around his cock that was now deep down his slut teacher’s mouth.



Summer began sucking on her Master’s cock in rhythm with the vibration in her pussy and her hips as she fucked down against her desk. The vibration in her pussy was drawing her ever closer to orgasm, but she remembered that she was not allowed to cum unless she was given permission by her Master. The vibrations were getting her ever closer to the point where she would not be able to control her orgasm.



Todd saw that Summer’s hips were pressing hard down against her desk and he guessed that she was very close to orgasm because of the deep moans emanating from around his cock in his slut teacher’s mouth.



Todd pulled his cock out of his teacher’s mouth with some difficulty as Summer did not want to let it go. He heard her moan a quietly as he pulled away. Summer lay her head back down onto the desk and concentrated on the vibrations in her pussy. But, she knew she could not cum so she begged, “Master please let me cum.”



Todd replied, “Not yet slut. I am not through getting my pleasure and we still have 15 minutes before your next class starts.”



“Oh Master, please let me cum. I am so close,” pleaded Summer.



Todd did not pay any attention to his still outstretched slut. What a picture this was: his teacher laying face down on her desk, her skirt pulled up over her hips, yellow thong stretched tightly against her pussy lips, the gold ring pussy lip piercings quite visible and the hand drawn tattoo on her ass cheeks.



“No slut, I am not through with you yet. Do not cum or you will be very sorry,” said Todd as he slid back between Summer’s spread legs.



Todd reached down and pulled the thin material of the thong and rubbed his fingers against his slut’s pussy lips. The juices from her pussy had soaked the small crotch of the thong and he was able to soak the middle finger of his right hand. He moved the finger to the poor slut’s anal passageway and slowly began to insert his finger. He pulled the finger back out and once again soaked it with the teacher’s pussy juices. When he was fully satisfied, Todd inserted the middle finger back into Summer’s ass and began to slide the finger in and out of the puckered ass hole. Summer realized that the anal stimulation was bringing her ever closer to orgasm began pumping her ass against Todd’s finger and hand.



Todd withdrew his finger and pressed the tip of his cock against the puckered lips of his teacher’s ass hole. Summer pleaded for him to stop, but Todd continued to press against the poor teacher’s ass hole. His cock head suddenly slipped inside and in a matter of seconds Todd was able to slide his cock all the way into his slut’s ass.



Combined with the increasing sensation from the vibrating egg and Todd’s cock now fully imbedded into her ass, Summer pleaded again, “Master, please let me cum.”

Steve opened the door to Crossings and quickly stepped inside. His heart was racing as he pulled off his sunglasses then tucked them into his jacket pocket. As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit store, he nervously ran his fingers through his graying hair.



Crossings was a small shop in the basement of an old office building in downtown Syracuse that sold lingerie for men and other cross-dressing specialty items. They also carried a wide variety of toys, including one of the largest collections of strap-on toys in the area.



Steve looked around and was happy to see he was the sole shopper. He didn’t even see a sales clerk, which made him even happier. Having a sales clerk hovering over him would’ve made him even more nervous.



As Steve made his way to the ‘toy room,’ he paused to look through some of the lingerie. He was there to get Miss. Chloe a new toy for her birthday but it wouldn’t hurt to do some window shopping while he was there. After all, he would never actually wear any of it.



He lightly fingered a silky pale pink camisole with delicate white lace trim. It was so soft and feminine. Steve blushed when he realized he was starting to be turned on. “It’s only because you’re picturing Miss. Chloe in it,” Steve thought to himself.



Happy with his excuse, he moved onto the stockings and shoes. He never would have believed there were so many different kinds of stockings—regular, fishnet and thigh-highs in a dozen different colors. He loved seeing Miss. Chloe in them but couldn’t imagine wearing them himself.



He moved to the shoes and his size. Steve traced the heels on a pair of five-inch tall stilettos that were his size then put them on the floor. He slipped his sock-covered feet into them and groaned in pain. His calves protested against the muscles being stretched in this new way and he quickly stepped out of them He returned them to the shelf and continued on to the ‘toy room.’



Steve stepped through the curtains that divided the two sections and found himself surrounded by hundreds of cocks of various lengths, thickness, colors and materials. He’d never seen so many in one place before.



“Damn,” he muttered.



“Impressive, isn’t it?” a feminine voice said from behind him. Steve spun around and came face-to-face with a short plus-sized woman with long red hair, brown eyes with gold flecks and huge breasts. She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress with a plunging neckline that showed off most of her breasts.



“Yes, it is,” Steve answered and quickly looked at the ground.



“Welcome to Crossings. My name is Jessica. Are you looking for anything in particular?”



“I’m looking for something special, maybe a one-of-a-kind,” Steve answered keeping his eyes averted. “It is going to be a birthday present.”



“I know just what you’re looking for,” Jessica replied. “I’ll be right back.”



Before Steve could say anything more Jessica was gone. He was relieved not to have to keep averting his eyes but how could she know what he wanted when he’d not even told her what kind of item he was looking for.



While he was waiting, he looked at some of the strap-ons. He’d heard about them but had never seen one in person. Steve was fascinated with how they connected and made it look like the wearer really had a cock of their own.



“Here you go,” Jessica said as she came up behind him again. Steve turned around and his mouth fell open. She had the pink camisole, a pair of matching panties, a pair a breasts forms, and a black wig. He was speechless.



“That’s not what I am looking for,” Steve said when he was able to speak again. “I am looking for a vibrator or dildo.”



“You said you wanted something one-of-a-kind. Now strip so we can see if these lovely things will fit you,” Jessica commanded.



“Excuse me?” Steve replied. He wasn’t sure what sorts of drugs this woman was taking but there was no way he was going to be stripping in front of her in the middle of a store then putting on those girly things.



“The door is locked and we’re alone,” Jessica assured him.



“I am not a cross-dresser,” Steve protested. He had wondered about it but not enough to try it and certainly not enough to do it.



“Listen boy,” Jessica said in a very commanding voice, “I do not have all day. You will strip now or I will be calling your Mistress.”



“Huh? How?” Steve asked. Jessica held up his cell phone.



“Now strip.”



Steve swallowed hard. He would be completely screwed if she called Miss. Chloe. She had him cornered.



“Please Ma’am, I can’t do this,” Steve pleaded.



“Do you think I’ve never seen a boy with an erection?”



Steve blushed. It was true. He was rock hard and his cock was straining against the front of his jeans. The combination of her words and the clothes were overpowering.



“If I have to tell you again I will call her,” Jessica said sternly as she flipped open the phone to access the phonebook.



“Fuck!” he thought. Steve closed his eyes and removed his jacket, letting it fall on the floor next to his feet. He quickly slipped his T-shirt over his head then unfastened and removed his pants, dropping them onto the floor with his jacket. He stood there in front of her with his underwear, socks and shoes still on.



“Everything.”



Steve’s face turned a bright red as he removed his shoes and socks then finally his tighty whities. His cock was sticking straight out and dripping precum. He was so embarrassed but he had no choice.



Jessica set everything down on the glass display case and opened up the package with the breast forms in it. She pulled them out then walked around the counter. She rummaged around for a minute then pulled out an electric razor.



“I’m not going to shave your whole chest that will take forever with all that fur, but just enough so that the breasts will stick to your skin. You can finish shaving later,” Jessica said as she turned on the razor and started to remove his chest hair.



It was an odd feeling but not unpleasant. He had been hairy since junior high so it was strange to see his chest bared. When she finished there were two boob-shaped hairless areas on his chest. She used rubbing alcohol to clean the skin then exposed the adhesive and placed them over his nipples. They were heavy and he found himself leaning forward slightly.



“Stand up straight,” Jessica scolded and Steve straightened his back. “Now, put these panties on.”



Steve took the silky panties and carefully stepped into them then pulled them up to his upper thighs. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to get them over his hard cock. Jessica decided to have some compassion and pressed his cock against his stomach so he could pull the panties up the rest of the way.



Her touch sent shivers through his body and even more precum oozed out of the tip. He was happy the front panel of the panties had a special pocket for replaceable pads to soak up the precum and keep the front of the panties dry.



“Oh, that’s perfect. Your clit is properly tucked out of sight,” Jessica cooed. Steve bristled. He knew he didn’t have a huge cock but it was certainly bigger than a clit. Jessica laughed at his reaction. “Don’t worry boy, when you’re in lacy panties your cock is going to be referred to as a clit—regardless of its size.”



“Oh,” Steve said then blushed at his lack of knowledge. He prided himself as being someone in the know and it was an odd experience to be so out of his element.



“Put this on, being careful not to rip it,” Jessica directed. Steve took the camisole from her and carefully pulled it on over his head. The soft fabric glided over his head and down his body, covering his new breasts and pretty panties.



Steve looked down at himself and saw the cleavage then groaned. He blushed and closed his eyes as he lost control and orgasmed, spilling his cum all over the inside of the panties.



“Oh my,” Jessica said then laughed. “When was that last time that happened?”



“About 25 years ago,” Steve said. He was unable to look at her he was so embarrassed.



“I guess we can forego the wig,” she said then led him to the mirror. “Look at the naughty boy.”



Steve looked at himself in the mirror and blushed again. It was him, but it wasn’t. He cupped the breasts and squeezed them. They felt so real.



“Now comes the fun part for me,” Jessica said. “Bend over that bar and close your eyes. Do not open them until you are told.”



“Yes Ma’am,” Steve walked to the bar and bent over it then closed his eyes. His pantied-ass faced the middle of the room.



Suddenly he felt two hands caressing his ass then the panties being pulled down. He sighed with relief as his cock was able to breath again. The hands massaged his ass then one hand slipped between his legs to play with his balls.



Steve moaned as his cock started to harden again. The hand that had been on his ass slid around his hip and the fingers wrapped around his cock. “Oh god,” he groaned. When he was fully hard again the hand disappeared then he felt something cold squirt on his ass crack.



“Wait! What are you doing?” he demanded as he tried to pull away. Jessica slapped his ass hard. Steve had been trained well enough to know that a slap like that meant it was time to behave.



A finger slid through the gel on his ass then pressed against his ass hole. He fought the urge to pull away but failed miserably. The hand fell across his ass again, even harder. Steve cried out in pain and stopped moving.



He’d never had his ass played with before and wasn’t sure it was something he wanted. Then again, he’d never thought he would want to be dressed as a woman and he’d already spilled his cum all over the inside of the panties that were now around his ankles.



The finger pressed against his ass hole and slipped into it. Ever so slowly, it was pushed further and further in until it was completely buried. “Oh fuck,” Steve whimpered.



He was shocked at how it was making him feel. His cock was oozing precum again. The finger stretched the tight tunnel and lightly rubbed against the prostate gland, causing Steve’s cock to twitch.



“Are you ready for it?” Jessica asked from behind him.



“For what?” Steve asked nervously.



“This,” she said and suddenly there was a dildo being pushed into his ass.



“Please … oh god … it is too big,” he groaned. The cock continued to push into his ass until it was completely inside. Then ever so slowly, it started to move in and out. Steve didn’t know what to do or think, all he knew was much more of the anal action and he was going to explode again.



Steve felt someone kneel before him and start to suck on his cock. He moaned then opened his eyes to see who was beneath him. It was Jessica. If she was there, then who was fucking his ass? The cock started to move faster as Jessica deep throated him. Steve tried to keep himself from cumming but it was too much for him.



“I’m about to cum,” he warned.



“Come for me bitch,” Miss. Chloe ordered. Steve reacted to the voice he’d heard say the same thing hundreds of times. He exploded in Jessica’s mouth and his ass tightened around the fake cock in his ass.



“Oh Miss. Chloe!” Steve cried out as he came more than he had before. His cum flowed down Jessica’s chin and landed on her exposed breasts. When he was done, she stood up.



“Clean your cum off me,” she ordered. Steve licked the cum off Jessica’s breasts as Miss. Chloe pulled the cock out of his ass.



“I think this will do nicely,” Miss. Chloe told Jessica. “You can wrap it all up.”



Jessica winked at him then went to the cash register to ring all the items up.



“You may stand up and turn around Stephanie,” Miss. Chloe said to Steve. He stood up and turned around. “Oh, how lovely! I should have done this sooner.”



Steve blushed as his mistress caressed and played with the fake breasts. She smiled then kissed him.



“Now that is a birthday present! Thank you so much,” Miss. Chloe said. “Change back into your other clothes and give the stuff to Jessica to put in a bag. Then we’ll go home and we can have my favorite birthday sex.”



Steve smiled and quickly undressed then pulled on his regular clothes. He was so happy Miss. Chloe had taken his anal virginity. They’d talked about it before but it had never happened.



“$235.13 please,” Jessica said. Steve handed her his credit card and watched as she slid it through the machine. A few minutes later, she handed him a slip to sign. Steve finished the transaction and picked up the bags.



“Happy birthday Chloe!” Jessica said as she hugged his mistress.



“Thanks Jess,” she replied then led Steve out of the store.



When they got home Steve gave Miss. Chloe the best birthday sex ever, then they talked about him spending more time dressed as a woman. That night Steve fell asleep a very happy man.

My real estate business was going well, and I was in Hong Kong for a few days, meeting a client from the United States that was about to construct a multi-storey apartment building in town. There were three companies competing for the tender to sell the apartments, and I felt confident because I had worked with this client before. His name was Trent, and he was a little older than me, aged in his mid-fifties, and was married with two grown up children.



The background to the rest of the story is that I, at age 46, was married to Steve, and work in my own real estate business which I purchased from my former boss, Al. I am tall, blonde and still have nice bouncy boobs and a curvaceous arse. I like to fuck, but in recent months have been trying not to play outside my marriage too much, preferring to fuck Steve as often as he is willing.



I was, in my hotel room, having arrived the day before. The meeting was tomorrow, and I decided to go shopping to find something new and classy to wear. Two hours later, I was in the spa in my room, sipping on some champagne and eating some strawberries when my mobile rang. It was Steve.



“Hi baby. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday! I’m sorry we can’t be together, but I promise I’ll make it up to you when you get home, ok?”



We chatted a while and I promised him I would be a ‘good girl’ on this trip, and would save myself for his surprise when I got home.



The next morning, after showering and dressing in my new outfit, I went down to enjoy a buffet breakfast before heading downtown to the meeting. As I sipped on my coffee and ate a Danish, I looked round the restaurant and noticed a young couple about ten metres away. They appeared to be on their honeymoon. He was a dark skinned guy with amazing white teeth, and she was asian, from Japan I guessed, as he skin was pure white and her hair jet black. They were a striking couple, and I smiled to myself at the thought of my own honeymoon all those years ago, when Steve and I had been in Bali and I had worn the see-through white swimsuit in the pool and ended up fucking three other men on my very own honeymoon!



Aaaah, those were the days, when we were wild, crazy and fucked like rabbits.



Soon after I was in a cab on the way to meet Trent, and as I climbed from the cab onto the street, I checked my appearance in the windows and smiled. My classic black high heels were classy, yet provocative, with their five inch heels. My red satin blouse was flashy yet sophisticated, and the buttons were undone just enough to flash the black lace of my push-up bra, highlighting my boobs. My black boned jacket completed the outfit, and I had chosen to put my hair up in a bun, completing the look with some brand new Chanel earrings as a birthday treat for myself.



I was met in the foyer by a young asian woman who introduced herself as Ayumi, Trent’s personal assistant, and we made our way to the penthouse level of the building. At the top we got out and walked down a short corridor into a massive open space, featuring glass all the way around, giving amazing views of Hong Kong harbour and the city. Trent greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, and I flushed at the memory of the one night we had spent together. I was ravenous that night and ended up begging this American stud to push his small cock into my tight arse as he was not really pleasing me much with his fucking. I was embarrassed as I thought back to that night, but kept my composure, hoping my sexual kinks would not have a negative effect on my ability to win the contract.



I was the last to arrive for the meeting, and as we sat in the leather chairs round the conference table, Trent made introductions. I was the only one who had chosen to come and tender for the contract alone. The other two companies were represented by five people in total. David and Candy were joint partners from a firm in Sydney, and they were hoping to break into the Melbourne market by securing this contract. The other company was a firm from Singapore, and they had three men, all very formal and business-like. One was a sales agent, Stuart; the second the lawyer, Toshi, and finally there was Yanaka, the owner of the company, and a much older man than the rest of the people at the meeting. I thought it unusual that the owner himself would attend a business meeting, but was to learn later that he was very much a ‘hands-on’ type of owner.



Trent began by explaining the details of the property that we had all received by email, before going over the process for selecting the successful company to handle the sale of the apartments. It was a process I was familiar with, and I sat quietly, my eyes wandering the room assessing the competition.



When finished, Trent gave each of us the chance to present, and I have to admit, whilst a little nervous in front of the strangers, my competitors, I was quietly confident of winning the tender.



The meeting last about two hours, and as we finished, Trent said his goodbyes and wished us all well. I made my way back to the hotel, removing my clothes and showering as I was a little hot from the meeting and needed to freshen up before deciding what to do with the rest of the evening.



In the shower I was playing with my boobs, pinching and fondling my nipples, when my mobile rang. I stopped playing with myself, dried off and wearing only a towel, picked up the phone to check who the missed call was from. It was Trent.



I dialled his number as some water dripped off my thighs onto the carpet.



“Hi Trent. Sorry I missed your call. I was in the shower, honey.”



“Ooh, now that sounds tempting!” he said, flirting with me!



I had promised Steve I would be a good girl, so I decided to play straight.



“I was wondering what you were up to for dinner tonight? I’m in town alone and thought it might be nice to have a gorgeous woman to escort around town if you’re interested.”



“Hmm, well, I seem to recall last time you made me an offer like that we ended up being very naughty! But dinner sounds nice.”



“Ok, great,” he said, “I’ll pick you up round eight. Wear something nice because the place I’m taking you is sort of formal, ok?”



“Formal?” I asked. “Well, lucky I bought something suitable then isn’t it? See you at eight.”



I spent the next couple of hours just relaxing, and by the time the room phone buzzed, announcing Trent was there to pick me up, I was quite hungry. I was wearing a simple black cire gown with red roman gladiator stiletto sandals for maximum effect, and had my blonde hair down, with matching bright red lipstick.



The dress was just slightly see-through when light was behind it, and as it was completely form fitting, I had chosen not to wear a bra, but simply a tiny little Wicked Weasel thong on my bottom, as it highlighted my buns. If I’d been in the mood to ‘play’ I would have left the thong off altogether, but my promise to Steve was fresh in my mind and I was planning to be a good girl, have dinner and then fly home the next afternoon and wait to see if I was successful with the tender, before fucking my husband’s brains out, win or lose!



As I exited the elevator into the foyer, my heels clicked on the Italian tiled floor, and I noticed a few eyes cast my way. I felt flattered that, at age 46 I was still able to run heads with my looks. I walked slowly on purpose, seeing Trent seated in the lounges near the revolving doors.



He stood to greet me.



“Now that is a stunning dress.” he said, making me flush with pride as I felt my nipples tingle and harden, pressing against the very thin material.



Taking me by the hand, we looked every bit the courting couple, and we headed out into the warm night air towards the car that was waiting, his chauffeur holding open the door for us.



Inside the limousine we each had a glass of champagne as we headed to the restaurant, arriving about ten minutes later.



As we entered the restaurant, Trent put his hand on the small of my back, and I tingled as his fingers paused, feeling the outline of my tiny thong. He smiled at me as we walked in, and were greeted by the waiter.



I was surprised to see that we were shown to a table with several other people already seated. Puzzled, I looked to Trent, and he smiled, then whispered in my ear, “Very important customers, babe. These are the project financiers. They wanted to meet the agent I have recommended for the tender to act on their behalf.”



I was shocked.



What Trent told me meant that his decision was already made, and that I had won the multi-million dollar tender!



I wanted to scream out in excitement, but I was aware of my surrounds. I wanted to ring Steve and tell him the great news, but Trent was starting to introduce me, and I knew the significance of the people I was meeting for the first time, given Trent’s sudden announcement seconds earlier.



Dinner was a blur, and I’m sure I had too many glasses of champagne, but I felt amazing. My mind kept racing thinking about the tender and what it meant in terms of financial windfall for my agency. As I sipped my fourth glass of champagne, I felt something brush my thigh. I looked down and noticed a hand. Next to me, the man I had been introduced to, Jason, was calmly talking to Trent across the table, but his hand was purposely now rubbing my thigh through the thin material of my dress.



I politely lifted his hand from my thigh, not wanting to attract attention. However, Jason was persistent as well as slightly rude, and a few seconds later his hand was once again on my thigh as he chatted away. I felt my face flush a little, feeling the warmth as he gently squeezed my thigh, and I shifted nervously in my seat, not wanting anyone else to see what he was doing.



Once more I removed his hand, and this time I crossed my legs as I hoped that would stop him being so naughty.



It didn’t.



Minutes later, as he turned to talk to me and asked me what I thought about the new apartments, his hand once more touched my thigh, this time delving slightly further, coming to rest in the cleft between my crossed legs.



I am sure I blushed, and as I mumbled an answer, finished off my fourth glass of champagne, I felt my nipples stiffen as Jason’s fingers began to work their way deeper, even though my long gown was stopping him from getting inside.



As we finished our dessert, a band began to play some soft music, and a few couples rose to dance. I was almost relieved when Trent asked me to join him for a celebratory dance. Jason’s hand quickly disappeared and Trent took me by the hand, and I was glad he did for I actually stumbled a little from too many champagnes!



Once on the dance floor, Trent took me gently in his arms, and I placed my own arms around his neck, as much as a balancer as anything else. He whispered in my ear as we danced.



“You look ravishing in that dress. Did you realise it is almost see-through?”



I pretended to be shocked.



“What? It is not!” I replied, my nipples now throbbing as I knew men had been watching me all night as the light from the chandelier had been casting outlines of my curves under the dress.



“You big tease! You know very well we can all see your braless boobs and amazing arse!”



I smiled and giggled a little, feeling very tipsy and rather horny. As I pressed my chest into his, I felt his hands lower to the globes of my bum right there on the dance floor. My mind went to Steve, back home, and I fantasized that he was standing behind me, about to press his own body against my arse cheeks, sandwiching me between myself and Trent.



My mind was snapped from my fantasy by the feeling of a man, a real man, not my imaginary husband, standing behind me. It was Jason.



“Mind if I cut in?” he asked Trent.



“Not at all, be my guest,” said Trent, before guiding my arms across to Jason who assumed the same position, only a little closer.



He was tall, and I found myself looking upwards as he began to talk, his hands innocently placed upon my hips at this stage.



“Trent tells me you’re quite the businesswoman.”



I blushed, pleased that Trent had described me that way to his associate.



“He also tells me you’re a wicked fuck.”



I was shocked, and my eyes must have given me away, as I pulled back from him.



He trapped me, pulling me firmly against his muscular chest, my own big boobs squashing hard against him now, my nipples aching as my senses confusion took hold.



“Relax, I am impressed. He tells me you’re the best fuck he’s ever had.”



I had no response apart from the burning sensation in my pussy as I tried to digest what he had just said



.



The music stopped and we headed back to the table with the other guests.



My mind was racing. I was dying to get home to Steve, to take hold of his cock and suck it, kiss it, lick it and fuck it, but he was ten hours away by air!



“Well folks, it’s been a great day,” said Trent, standing. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get Dee back to her hotel as she has a big flight home tomorrow to share her news with her husband, Steve.”



As we all said our goodbyes, and the other owners wished me well with the sales, Trent took me by the hand and we were hailed a cab by the concierge. Just as it arrived, Jason came almost running out the door of the restaurant too.



“Mind if I join you? Trent tells me we’re staying in the same hotel!”



“Of course she doesn’t mind. Jump in,” said Trent, before we all climbed in and headed towards the hotel.



In the back of the cab it was a bit of a squash, and I was in the middle. Trent was a gentleman of course, but Jason was all over me with his hands, and his left arm he put on the back of the seat behind me, his fingers rubbing the skin of my neck as we drove along. I liked the feeling on my skin, but my mind was telling me to stay true to my husband and wait till I got home to satisfy the incredible urges that were coming from my pussy and swollen nipples.



We chatted as we drove, and thankfully, before long, we made it to the hotel.



Flustered from the close contact of being sandwiched between two men other than my husband, and Jason’s fingers on my neck tickling me all the way home, I was in need of some release. I couldn’t wait to get up to my room, ring Steve and then masturbate with him together on the phone to release the sexual tension that had built up in my loins.



The men showed me up to my room, and despite some urging by Jason and an offer of a drink by Trent, I managed to maintain my composure and decline their offers and went to my room alone. Trent and Jason decided to have a night cap in the hotel bar, and I headed to the elevator alone. Inside the elevator, I was aware of just how flushed and horny I was. I was alone, and while watching the lights head towards the 14th floor, I played with my nipples that were very hard and poking against the thin material of my dress. I actually gasped as I tweaked my right nipple and felt a surge of lust through my pussy as the sexual energy in my body took hold.



Inside my room, I peeled off my tight black dress, and then, wearing only my small thong, I decided to be a little naughty. I went into the bathroom, stood in front of the full-length mirror, and took a photo of myself pinching my right nipple and pouting. It turned me on pinching it like that, and I knew Steve would love it, so I texted him the photo, before stripping off completely and jumping into a nice hot shower.



As the water ran over my shoulders, I soaped up my big boobs and played with them, before dropping my right hand to my pussy and giving myself a good wash, before fingering myself too, noticing just how wet I was inside. I pumped three fingers in and out a few times, enjoying the feeling of heat inside my pussy, and as the water flowed down over my boobs, I closed my eyes and imagined Steve fucking me, his strong hands squeezing my tits as he pumped me from behind, just the way I liked it.



I was just about to climax in the shower, when there was a knock at my hotel room door, and I froze, my fingers still buried in my cunt.



Who could that be? What did they want? Could I ignore them and maybe they would go away?



I chose the latter course of action, but, as I stood there in the shower, the water flowing down over my fingers still buried inside my pussy, the knocking at the door came a second time.



“Dee? Are you there? It’s me, Trent. I forgot to give you the details of the tender and I don’t think I’ll be up when you leave in the morning.”



Dammit.



I pulled my fingers reluctantly from my pussy, washed my own juices off them and then turned off the water.



“Just a minute.”



Quickly grabbing a towel, I wrapped it around my body, folding the end down inside my cleavage , my hair dripping wet, and went to the door. I was flushed in the face, horny as a toad, and had just about climaxed after fingering myself in the shower seconds earlier, having sent my husband a racey photo. I hardly felt like answering the door, but given the tender with Trent was worth well over a million dollars to my agency, I knew I had to answer it.



Opening the door in my towel, water dripping off my legs and hair, I was surprised when not only Trent, but Jason too was standing there.



I was hoping Trent would just give me the envelope he was holding, but he asked if he could come in and explain the details to me, so I let them both in, trying to cover myself as best I could.



“Sorry to catch you at such an awkward time, babe.” Said Trent.



“You might be, but I’m sure not!” said Jason, “You look hot, Dee, mind if I join you when you’re finished being all business-like with Trent?”



He smiled, half joking, but his words caused my nipples to throb once more, and I felt them poking against the towelling material as his eyes cast their way up and down my entire body as I stood there.



Trent spent a few minutes going over the details with me, and then, as I stood there my pussy on fire from the earlier arousal, kissed me on the cheek, his hand patting my butt as we said our farewells. Then, Jason stood and approached, and his cocky attitude was starting to get to me. As he kissed me on the cheek, pausing a few seconds, his breath was warm against my face, and his hand pressed against my breasts in the towel, and I swear he even felt one of my erect nipples for a second.



Three minutes later, they were gone, and I was spreadeagled on the bed, my fingers buried inside my hot, wet cunt as I imagined what it might have been like to rip off my towel and fuck them both, right there and then.



Just as I approached orgasm again, my mobile phone beeped.



It was a text message back from my husband, Steve, and showed his hard cock that I knew so well, in his fist being pumped with our bed in the background. The text message said, “Horny, huh? Good! Enjoy yourself! See you soon….love, Steve.”



My mind raced. “Enjoy yourself!” Did that mean he wanted me to masturbate again? Did it mean more than that? Was he encouraging me to fuck without him being here?



My hazy, hot, aroused mind was playing tricks on me, and my fingers inside my pussy once more were rapidly causing me to approach the orgasm I was yearning so badly.



As I fell back on the pillows once more, I thrust the three fingers of my left hand back inside my pussy, and began to fuck myself to orgasm. My right hand was pinching and pulling my nipples, the way I love them to be touched during sex, and I was almost there within a minute or two..



Knock, knock.



“Fuck! What now?” I almost yelled as I was snatched from my cum yet again, my nipples red and swollen, my pussy sopping and the fingers of my left hand wet with my juices.



I grabbed the towel and covered up again, then opened the door, expecting Trent to be there telling me he had forgotten something.



It was Jason.



I wanted to kill him for snatching me from my orgasm yet again, but my body was betraying me. My mind told me to tell him to go away, but my pussy wanted him to tear off my towel and fuck the shit out of me. Steve’s text message had confused me, the alcohol had affected my judgement, and the frustration that had built up inside me all night was getting to me, so I stood there, in my towel, hair all over the place, face flushed, fingers wet from pussy juice and smelling like a women’s pussy.

“Fancy a nightcap?” he asked, holding up a bottle of really nice champagne. My Achilles heel. It was Moet Chandon, and I was actually a little thirsty from all my hard work trying to make myself cum.



“I have an early flight and I’m married, so one drink and then you have to go, ok?”



“Whatever you say, babe. I just wasn’t in the mood to sleep and seeing you in that towel like that before made my cock hard as a rock. I just had to see you one more time before you fly out tomorrow.”



He sounded almost sincere, despite the fact I knew he was there for only one reason. The thing was, I wasn’t sure I wasn’t wanting exactly the same thing!



He popped the cork and I grabbed some glasses from the mini bar, and sat down on the bed next to him as he poured.



“To you. May you sell all those fucking apartments before Christmas!”



We clinked glasses and I gulped down the frothy, cold liquid, before Jason topped up my glass again.



“Naughty. What happened to one glass?” I teased, my body relaxing a little more now as I sat there in my towel, my boobs still pressing against the towelling material.



“Well. It’s too good to waste, and I happen to know it’s your favourite. Steve told me.”



A puzzled look came over my face.



“Steve told you? When did you talk to him?” I asked, confused.



“He texted me about ten minutes ago. He said to tell you the photo looked great and to enjoy yourself.”



Now this was confusing, and very arousing at the same time. As I sat there, still wet, horny and wearing only a towel, this man I had not met before dinner that night was sipping champagne on my bed, saying that he had received a text from my husband, and, in my opinion, had almost given this stranger approval to be with me.



“How did he get your number? Do you know him?” I asked, wanting some clarification.



The champagne was getting to me again, and my whole body felt warm and fuzzy, especially my pussy and nipples



.



“Trent introduced us online when we were doing reference checks for the tender applications. It’s company policy for us, so I called Steve and had a chat. He seems like a good guy. I must say, I had no idea how fucking hot you look standing in front of a mirror in just your g-string!”



He held up his phone and showed me the picture I had sent Steve earlier.



That bastard! My own husband has sent a sexy pic of me to another man!



My pussy twitched and shook at the thought, and as I gulped down the remainder of my second glass in five minutes, Jason took that as a signal of approval.



He took me by the hand, put my empty glass on the small table, and then removed my towel, very slowly from around my body. My hair was still quite wet, and I knew my nipples were really erect as I stood there, completely naked in front of this ‘almost’ stranger.



We kissed, and his tongue was hot and wet inside my own mouth as his hands explored my arse, pressing my boobs against his chest for the second time that night. However, unlike earlier on the dance floor, when I had mildly protested, this time I was like putty in his hands, begging him to ravish me and release the orgasm that had been welling inside me for an hour or more.



For a brief moment the married woman inside me took over, and I stepped back, removing his hands from my arse.



“Jason…….I…I can’t do this. I’m married, remember?”



He paused for a moment, then, with a forceful rush, he spun me round and before I had time to protest, his finger found my clit and started to rub it the way that drives me absolutely crazy.



I was his, and he knew it.



I parted my thighs slightly, encouraging him to finger me, and he took the bait. Slowly, as his right hand continued to play with my clit, his left hand dropped and two of his fingers found my sopping wet cunt, yearning for penetration.



I moaned and leaned back against his body, his mouth biting down on my neck as he almost lifted me off the floor with his fingers inside me, pumping up and down and causing my body to once again start the climb to orgasm.



I was ravenous and the thought of cheating on my husband made me even sluttier as I reached down and found his zipper, undid his pants and then stuffed my hand inside, finding his hard cock and giving the shaft a few hard strokes in my fist.



Momentarily he removed his fingers from inside me, long enough to take his pants off, and remove his shirt, before spinning me round once again, and then kissing me full on the lips again, as his hands reached down to push inside me once more.



His three fingers were now inside me, pumping slowly, as his thumb throbbed my clit and his other hand held me tightly round the waist. I was putty in his hands as he worked me towards the orgasm I knew would be a massive explosion of lust.



I squeezed his balls and pulled them down away from his cock quite hard, and he responded by jamming the fingers up inside me even further. His thumb on my clit was driving me crazy and the orgasm began to well inside me from my pussy walls as my nipples ached from hardness as they pressed against Jason’s muscled chest.



My knees began to shake as I felt the orgasm building inside me, and I was moaning loudly, wiggling my hips to move Jason’s fingers inside my cunt as we kissed.



Just then, the doorbell rang.



Again!



“OOooh, fuck!!” I moaned into Jason’s neck as his fingers froze inside me. His thumb stopped moving across my clit and I let go of his large balls.



“Who the hell could that be?” I cursed.



Jason threw on his pants, panicking.



I grabbed the towel and covered up once more, my body truly on fire, the orgasm ripped from my grasp as I walked towards to hotel room door.



“Who is it?” I hissed, wondering who it might be that had interrupted my orgasm yet again!



“It’s me, Trent! I left my room key on your dresser! Can I just come in and grab it, please?”



I looked across the room to the small dresser near the TV, and, sure enough, there was a room key sitting there!



“Ok, hold on!”I said through the door, before looking at Jason and indicating he should hide in the bathroom. After all, I wasn’t sure how me fucking one of the owners might appear to Trent!



Jason grabbed his things and jumped into the bathroom, before I opened the door.



“Sorry about this, Dee. I’m really embarrassed. Were you asleep? You look a little…flustered!”



I smiled, thinking that I was about as far from asleep as I could be!



“No, no. It’s ok. I was just chilling out and thinking about Steve. It’s my birthday today and Steve tells me he has a surprise waiting for me when I get home tomorrow.”



“Today? Why didn’t you tell me? Ooh, I would have got you a cake to share with the others at dinner!”



He leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek as he said, “Happy Birthday.”



The problem was, that as he stepped forward, my towel chose that very moment to drop completely to the floor, leaving me standing totally naked and exposed at the very instant Trent kissed me on the cheek!



I’m not sure what Trent thought, but he must have given it as a signal from me because the next thing I know, the birthday peck on the cheek turned in to a full-on tongue kiss, and his hands were all over my body, squeezing my boobs and wandering down to my arse.



I was in a state of combined shock and total arousal, having experienced such a sexually frustrating evening to date. I responded the way my nipples wanted. I responded the way my pussy begged me to.



I kissed him back and threw my arms round his neck, yearning for him to touch me, lick me, kiss me, finger me and fuck me.



My mind however was focused on three things as my body went into auto pilot and we began get sexually serious right there standing near the door. The first thought, as his hands mauled my tits the way he knew I loved them being touched, was that my husband was at home, and it was my birthday and he was preparing a surprise for me when I got home the next day. The second thought as my pussy ached and my clitoris throbbed as his fingers found it and gave it a delightful tweaking, was that Trent’s cock had failed to satisfy me the one time we had fucked previously. The third, and possible most sexually arousing thought, as that Jason, with the sexual confidence and large cock, was still in the bathroom, and that he could probably hear Trent and I getting it on now as Trent was starting to moan and I was also doing a little squealing as our tongues entwined and his fingers did a merry dance on my clit and pumped in and out of my very wet pussy.



My mind was racing but my body was winning. I parted my legs as Trent continued to push his fingers in and out of my pussy, and I found myself almost wishing he would jam more of his fingers into me, and push them deeper with every thrust as I was dying for some serious sexual release.



I unzipped his trousers and pulled them down, and his small cock was well and truly erect, bulging in his underwear. He stopped finger fucking me, which caused me to gasp and whimper, my own fingers replacing his as one hand frigged my clit and the other pushed four fingers into my snatch, without any difficulty whatsoever. I knew what I wanted. I knew what I needed, and whilst Trent continued to shed his clothes, I finger fucked myself towards a rapidly arriving orgasm that I had been needing for hours now.



“Whoa, birthday girl. Slow down there!” said Trent, his lack of awareness of the sexual needs of a woman once again on show.



I was dying to cum and just wanted him to either help make me cum, or shut up and let me do my thing.



However, I guess he didn’t get to be the CEO of a multi-national company without getting his way, and before I had a chance to speak, he had taken my hands away from my clit and pussy, and guided me back towards my bed, where he lay me down on my back, and thankfully, spread my legs and began licking my clit with his tongue.



I lay back, closed my eyes, and my hands drifted to my large boobs with their swollen nipples. I squeezed and played with my tits, all the while imagining Steve fucking me the way he does so well, from behind, and with the force of a Mack truck!



The tongue on my clit was very good, and I was pleased to see that Trent had improved his cunnilingus skills since we had fucked. He was actually pretty good at it now, and I found myself starting to rise to orgasm once again that night.



Just as I felt the surge of passion start to rise from my cunt, with the hot, wet tongue lashing my clit quite fast now, there was a movement to my left, and I spotted Jason peeking through the bathroom door!



I was momentarily snapped from the focus of my orgasm as my mind raced. I wondered what Trent would think if he saw Jason. I wondered what my husband, Steve would think if he knew I was in my room making love to one man while another stood watching, having started the whole extramarital thing earlier that night!



I didn’t care, as my nipples, pinched between my fingers, and my clit, being tongue lashed by Trent, took control of my thoughts once again.



I closed my eyes, and concentrated on my own pleasure, and felt the orgasm start to surge once more from my loins as Trent continued to lick me.



About a minute later, enjoying my rising orgasm, I opened my eyes as I pinched and twisted my aching nipples, and saw that Jason, now totally naked, was standing on the side of the bed opposite Trent, his huge, hard cock pointing lewdly above my head. I glanced to Trent, buried tongue deep in my pussy, but he seemed oblivious to his colleague standing over me.



Instinctively I reached for his wonderful cock, realising that this was the only cock in the room capable of satisfying me that night, and I took it in my mouth as I lay spread-eagled being licked to orgasm.



The scene must have looked erotic indeed. I was on my back, my large boobs showing off their erect nipples, a man buried between my legs licking my pussy. I was now deep-throating the very large cock in my mouth and as the man I was sucking moaned and reached down to squeeze and play with my boobs, it started!



Like an avalanche rumbling from the mountains of snow, the orgasm started low in my pussy and began to take over my entire being. The built up sexual tension and frustration of the night’s events had a dramatic effect, heightening my usual sexual energy and causing my body to convulse and shake like a tsunami of sexual release.



It was indeed a good thing that my mouth was full of cock, because my moaning and squealing as the biggest orgasm of my life took over my body was intense! I am sure I would have woken Steve back home in Australia with the volume of noise I made as I came, had the cock in my mouth not started to spurt its own orgasmic load of semen directly into my hungry cock sucking throat! I gulped and shook, swallowed and convulsed, came and digested the huge load of cum that was deposited into my cumming mouth as I climaxed on the wonderful tongue that was licking me to climax.



I shook and came for almost a full minute, my boobs squeezed by Jason as I swallowed his cum. I was on sexual fire as Trent slowed his licking in response to my amazing contractions around his face with my thighs.



I licked the remaining cum off Jason’s cock and lapped at his balls, moaning like a pussy cat eating its food. I was so fucking satisfied it was crazy, and I remember thinking it had been the best orgasm ever, just as Trent removed himself from my thighs, and stood up to reveal a glistening face, coated with my pussy juices all over his tongue, lips, mouth and cheeks.



As Jason recovered from the ravenous blowjob I had just given him, and I luxuriated in the post-orgasmic bliss, my mouth still covered in Jason’s cum, I reached for a glass and rolled off the bed to pour myself a drink.



“Well, that was a nice surprise! Happy Birthday, Dee!” said Trent.



“No, thank, YOU!” said Jason, giving his now flaccid cock a nice shake as he stood there, his other hand on his hip.



“Well actually, I should be the one thanking both of you. You have no idea how good that orgasm was, or how long I was waiting for it! You guys teased me all night and then with Jason hiding in the bathroom, and Trent forgetting his keys just at the wrong moment, jees!!”



We all shared a giggle, and then there was a brief moment of awkward silence, until Trent, the more conservative of the two men in my hotel room, spoke.



“Well, I guess we should head off and let you get some sleep!”



Truth be known I was totally wishing they would both stay and fuck me ragged until I couldn’t walk.



“Well, I guess you’re right. My flight leaves early and I’m sure Steve will have something big planned for when I get home.”



That’s when Jason, the cocky one whose lovely cock I had just drained of a huge load and swallowed, spoke up.



“OOoh, come on, babe! Don’t try and tell me you don’t want a pair of cocks to fuck the shit out of you right here and now. You know you want it bad, and Trent and I are just the guys to give it to you. Get over here and let me suck on those gorgeous titties of yours and let’s get this fucking party really started so we can give you a proper birthday present.”



I was a little shocked, but he was totally right.



“I’m not sure we should stay, Jason. After all, Dee is a married woman!” said Trent, before the three of us giggled together.



“Well. If you put it like that, how could I refuse?” I said, walking slowly over towards the cocky stud, my big boobs shaking nicely as I wiggles my body to make them shake even more



.



I walked straight up to him and kissed him on the lips, his hands dropping to cup my arse behind me, and as we enjoyed a really hot kiss, Trent moved in behind us and pushed his little dick between my thighs, and I moved around until I nestled it between my butt cheeks, and felt the heat coming off the little cock behind me, as the large one hanging downwards in front of me started to come to life again and I felt it poke my belly.



Jason then collapsed down on the bed, and I fell onto my hands and knees before him, taking his cock in my mouth and marvelling at the way it started to swell once more. I can’t speak for other women, but the feeling of a soft cock hardening in my mouth as I suck it is one of the most amazing sensations I have experienced. I kept sucking Jason until his cock was rock hard again, my right hand playing with his balls, tugging on them as I deep throated his impressive manhood. Behind me Trent had positioned himself with his cock pushing at my pussy entrance. I knew what he wanted and I wanted it to. Even though he had a small cock, I guided it into me and the sensation of sucking a cock and being fucked at the same time caused me to gasp a little.



Trent then settled into a nice rhythm playing with my tits as he fucked me doggie style, and I kept sucking Jason’s cock at the same time. Jason leaned forward as I was being fucked, sucking his cock, and started to scratch me back with long raking movements, which was sensational. I was in cock heaven as the two men pumped me like a spit roast and fucked me in between them, cock in pussy and mouth at the same time, boobs played with and back being scratched. It was lovely and I was totally enjoying being fucked by the two men.



We stayed in this position for a good five or ten minutes. I’m not sure because it was so heavenly that time seemed to stand still as I rolled back and forth on the cocks inside me at both ends.



Jason then decided that he wanted some fucking, and I have to admit I was glad he did, because he had a cock that felt almost twice the size of poor Trent’s little wiener.



The guys swapped positions as I spun around on the bed, offering my wet pussy to Jason, who pushed his nice cock inside me with one long, deep thrust that was heavenly. Then, in front of me Trent played with my boobs and I took his slimy, juice covered cock into my hungry mouth and first licked my juices off it, before being easily able to deep throat him with every suck.



Before long Jason worked into a lovely motion with really long, deep strokes that hit the bottom of my pussy every time he pumped into me. Just as I thought it could not get any better than this, his fingers found my clit and I once again felt an orgasm surging through my body. The feeling of another cum approaching was too much for me, and I reached back and pushed my own finger into my cunt where Jason’s cock was pumping in and out. I rubbed my finger along the shaft of his cock as he fucked me, and I moaned as I felt the larger penetration caused by my own finger inside me at the same time. Then, when it was coated with my own love juices, I pulled my finger out of my pussy, leaving Jason’s cock in there to fuck me alone, even as I continued to suck the cock in my mouth. I reached back and found my bum, poking my wet finger into my arsehole and playing a little first, before pushing it all the way in until my entire finger was buried in my own arse.



I knew it must have looked hot to Jason, and so I decided to have some fun with the two men fucking me.



“Oooh, I can feel your cock going in and out of my pussy, Jason. My finger is fucking my arse and I can feel your big clock sliding in and out through the skin back there. Can you feel my finger fucking my arse baby? Can you?”



I was on my knees, being fucked from behind by a huge cock. Jason was pumping me with fantastic long, deep strokes, his hands gripping my hips as he pumped me. I was sucking a cock in my mouth, and finger fucking my own arse at the same time.



I decided it was time to really blow these guys minds and show them what a hot fuck I could be when my husband was not around and I was in the mood to fuck.



I dislodged both cocks and my own fingers from my arse, then asked Jason to lay down on the bed. I then turned to face away from Jason, my boobs facing Trent, giving Jason a full on view of my arse and back. Then, lowering myself down, I pushed his amazing cock into my arse, slowly, moaning and making sure the guys heard exactly what was happening with every inch that pushed into my tight arse.

On an erotic forum, CandyCane gets a private message from someone who wants to play with her and tells her she is beautiful and would love to meet her.



Candy, being the naughty girl that she is decides to answer the private message and see who this “Amylin” was and if she was for real. She tests her by sending her a message on the forum which included her cell number and a request to send a picture…a naughty one.



A day passes and Candy forgets that she even dared Amylin to send a picture to her phone when her phone buzzes with a message as Candy is about to take her afternoon bath.



The message reads; “I didn’t send any message to you but I did read your biographical page and it’s so sexy.” She goes on to say;”I’m lying here on my silk sheets fresh from my afternoon bath with my dildo in my ass and want to see if you find my picture sexy?”



Candy scrolls down on the message but there is no picture attached to it.



Within a few seconds the phone buzzed again and it said; “Sorry, forgot the picture” and as Candy scrolls down on her phone to the picture she gasps as the picture appears on her phone of a smooth round beautiful ass being stuffed full of rubber cock, “mmm” Candy moans!



It was breathtaking and Candy could see that the dildo had to have been 4 inches in diameter and the rim of Amylin’s ass was stretched around that plastic monster barely visible except for the on off panel she was barely holding onto at the very end and the skin of her butt hole was bright pink all around the edge of the dildo.



Candy started to feel the heat rise in her thighs and her shaved sack start to get hot and full and her manpussy began to tingle.



She could feel her own anal juices started to flow as she bites her lip with excitement. Candy wanted to see more of this naughty girl and her toy and decided to text her back and asked “how does it feel to be so full of cock?”



Candy still wondered to herself…”is she playing games with me not admitting to the private message?”



As Candy waits for an answer, she starts to rub her shaved cock in the hot sudsy water and leans back to feel her hand sliding up and down her shaft. She opens her phone again and tried to zoom into the picture of the rubber dildo in Amy’s ass for a better look.



Just then the phone rings and startles her and Candy can see that it is an unlisted number. Should she answer? Candy would never answer unlisted numbers but,she hoped it was Amy? Candy clicks the answer button and could hear someone say in a lust filled very feminine voice breathing very hard,”Candy, Candy, please come and fuck me, I love you Candy and want to feel your cock in my ass!”



Candy thinks for an instant, “How does she know how I look” and remembers the pictures she had posted on the forum web site dressed as a slut.



In as low a voice as possible Candy answers “is this Amy? I loved your picture too”…hoping it was her.



Amy replies in gasps, “Yes, Candy it’s me and I’m still fucking myself with my dildo real good and I’m imagining it’s you fucking my brown eye so good Candy. Would you like to play with me, uuh, uuh” she says as she slams the rubber cock in her ass harder and harder?



Candy could hear the sounds Amy was making fucking herself with that big cock and she begins sliding her hand faster and faster up and down her cock.



The water starts splashing out of the tub and Amy kept hammering her ass with that cock saying “fuck me Candy, fuck me!”



The breathing on the phone was getting hotter and heavier by both girls and Candy could feel the lava starting to rise into her shaft saying “yes, yes, Amy make me cum.”



Amy began to cum on the phone line …”uuuhhh, I’m cuming Candy, oh my god, I’m cuming, I’m cuming, cum with me please, please!”



At the same time Candy let loose a long gut wrenching moan of pleasure “uuuuhhhh” as her cum shots all over the sudsy tub water and her hand.



Once the two girls began to subside and their breathing slows to a normal pitch, Amy said in a low voice “are you still there Candy? I’m sorry to call you in this fashion but I needed you after seeing your pictures on your biography in the forum.”



As Candy sat up in the tub, she whispers back “Thank you for the good cum and phone sex Amy, call me again sometime” and hangs up exhausted from the good cum.



Candy didn’t want to seem too eager to continue the relationship or to meet just yet and still wondered about Amy not admitting she sent the forum message. What if Amy wasn’t who she says she is?



What if Candy’s threesome lover’s Javi and Cheryl found out, what would they say?



A day or two passed and while shopping for sexy clothes, Candy’s phone buzzes and the message reads; “Can we play today?”



Candy knows instantly who it is and starts to imagine how Amylin looks and her juices start to boil inside her and her tummy starts to get jittery. She ignores the call for now, turns off the phone and puts the phone back in her purse and hurries home paying for her lingerie!



Once home, Candy prepare her bath as usual. She remembers the phone call and goes to her purse for the phone. She fill the tub and slides her clothes off and gets into the hot soapy water. She turns it on and opens the phone to find a picture of Amylin!



She is gorgeous…a young looking asian woman with black hair and very cute perfectly shaped lips.



She is impressed with her makeup and the way she is posing and loves her hair cut…a wedge. It fit her perfectly.



She looks about 5’7″, slender build and very sexy legs in white fishnet stockings and gorgeous thigh high hot pink stiletto boots. She has her hands on her hips leaning slightly to one side with one leg in front of the other in a very girly pose. She is wearing a black patent leather mini-skirt and a cute white blouse.



The sleeves are long and ruffled at the cuff and her jet black hair angles beautifully on the edges of her jaw line. Her eyes are dark like a panthers eyes, like black coal looking hungrily at Candy. Her makeup looked perfect…hot pink lips stick which matched her boots.



Her eye makeup is immaculate and of course hot pink nail polish on her feminine hands. She has pink eye shadow with white highlights on the upper part of her eyes and inside corners, Candy was impressed. The note attached to the picture simply said, “You like?”



Candy started to tremble thinking what to reply and decided to see if Amy wanted to have phone sex again.



Candy texts “Let’s play again in one hour, I’ll be waiting for your call after my bath” and closes her phone. Candy quickly finishes her bath and runs to her bedroom to get her naughtiest outfit on and realizes they could web cam each other if Amy has a computer!



She quickly texts her back and says “Do you have a web cam?”



As Candy grabs her laptop her phone buzzes and Amylin answers, “Yes, I can’t wait Candy, let’s play!”



Both girls are hurriedly getting their most slutty cloths on and getting more and more excited by the minute. Candy quickly puts on her lipstick, first the “V” with the lip liner at the center of her top lip then edges her top and bottom lips with the lip liner. Then the Red lipstick she loves to wear and now her plum eye shadow with the white high lights on the corners of her eyes.



Next she puts on her plum garter belt and matching bra and thong panties,her white thigh high boots and opens the drawer with all her toys next to her bed. Candy can’t resist and pulls out a 5″ inch long vibrating butt plug that is 4″ at the fattest part and slides it past her bright red lips wetting it in her mouth and slides it into her wet butt hole with a moan “mmm” as it slides in all the way to the groove at the base but, doesn’t turn it on yet.



Candy makes sure the string from her thong is over the end of her butt plug so it doesn’t slide out and grabs her feather whip and her elbow length gloves that match her bra and thong and tosses them on the bed. She gets her laptop computer set up on the bed and waits…tick, tock, tick tock.



Amy gets her peach teddy from her closet and slips it on over her cleanly shaved body then her thigh high hot pink fishnet nylons and grabs the anal lube and her dildo. The one she loves to stuff up her ass. She looks at herself in the mirror while she sucks the head of her plastic cock, “wondering if Candy is this big and how good it’s going to feel in her ass.”



She hurries to get her laptop set up on her bed.



Once she gets it set up, she starts on her makeup and quickly applies her makeup base. The she applies her eyeliner and peach eye shadow and applies her pale pink lip stick, having very plump lips she doesn’t need lip liner. She applies blush on her cheeks, her jaw line and her brow. She applies mascara with two strokes each eye and her black lashes stand at attention.



She quickly runs a brush through her freshly cut hair and it falls perfectly against her cheeks and jaw line. She grabs her white stiletto ankle strap heels and buckles the two straps on each side. She slips her peach garter under her teddy and clips her hot pink fishnet nylons to her garter and jumps on the bed with her toy cock and her computer and waits…tick, tock, tick tock.



Now the two girls are ready and both dressed like little sluts watching the clock till it’s time to play…tick, tock, tick, tock!



As the clock ticks away and approaching the hour mark, Amy is sucking her plastic lover lying on her bed and trying to deep throat it so she can impress Candy when they go on line. She slides it in deep but feels it stops at her narrowing of her throat where her throat ring is.



She tries to relax and closes her eyes and imagines its Candy in her mouth.



She is feeling so horny and cant wait and slides the cock out of her wet mouth and down her butt cheeks. She decide to push it in her hole just a little bit till its time but, it goes all the way in her now juicy butt hole.



As she begins to fuck herself the laptop rings “bling, bling.” She looks at the clock, its time, and she flips it open to see Candy dressed like a hot little slut. The screen is so close to Candy’s face and see’s she is licking her lips and blowing kisses and Amy can’t stand the seduction and she shoves her cock deeper in her ass and gasps Candy, you look so sexy!



Candy sees her new friend dressed so cute with her plastic cock buried in her smooth round ass. Candy turns her ass to the screen not to be out done and shows Amy her butt plug buried to the rim and reaches down to it and slides the fat butt plug in and out showing her butt rim getting stretched wide as it goes in and out.



The two girls start to fuck each other in rhythm and Candy flips on her plug to medium, bzzzzzz sending chills up her own spine.



Amy can hear the sound of Candy’s butt plug and wants to feel hers and flips hers to high BZZZZZZZZZ.



Now the girls are wreathing on their beds and both have their legs in the air jamming their asses full of plastic cock.



Neither girl expected to get right into fucking on the web cam but it felt so natural and their heightened pitch of lustful breathing becomes unbearable. Candy turns over with one hand on her butt plug and Amy glances at the screen and see Candy’s big dick in her other hand as she starts a erythematic stroking.



Amy shouts to the computer, “Let me suck your cock Candy, I want to taste it, I want to taste your lavasicle” and Candy rolls to one side shoving her cock to the screen.



Amy slides her tongue up the screen as Candy’s cock head rubs up and down the screen glistening from her precum and can see Amy’s wet saliva drip down the screen and Candy feels her cock stiffen as Amy continues to licks the screen and fucks herself hard with her dildo.



Candy points her cock at the screen and shoots a gooey glob of cum on her computer screen and Amy cums right on queue imagining how Candy’s cum tastes…”mmm, Candy fill my mouth up, I want your lavasicle in my mouth you little slut,” as she made licking sound on the screen “slurp, slurp!”



Candy squeezes her eyes shut and flips her butt plug to high BZZZZZZ and screams,”suck me you little cunt, suck me Amy, suck me dry, drink my lava baby girl!”



After a gut wrenching cum by both girls, they drop their legs totally spent and try and look at each other on the computer screen, both giggle because the screens are a mess as they wipe the screens off.



Once they turn off the their plastic cocks and finish wiping off the screens they both get comfortable on their beds and began to chat.



Candy of course being the dominate female starts the conversation, “Amy you are so beautiful, I love your toy?”



Amy replies “I’ve dreamed of meeting someone like you, your pictures are so beautiful and sexy” and Candy replys “Thank you.”



Their chatting revels that they are not that far apart and they both worked at the same business. They start to plan a naughty night out at a central location halfway between their locations in the western part of the country in person.



I wonder if they suspect I’m watching them and the one who initiated the forum private messages hee, hee, hee…time will tell, tick tock, tick tock!



Navi Sorab

As the train pulled into Earls Court I counted the stops and calculated that we were far enough away from home and uni and everyone we knew to risk a kiss. Clearly Steve was thinking a similar thing, because as I moved in to kiss him he said,



“I know I’ve said this already but… you really do look beautiful.” I blushed. I kissed him softly and he kissed me back. We sprung apart guiltily but nobody in the carriage was taking any notice of us. This might have been a big day for us, our wedding day, but it was just an average Tuesday on the District Line to the commuters, nutters, students and post-Christmas tourists that surrounded us. He put his mouth near my ear and whispered, “I can’t wait to see what’s underneath that dress either.”



We were travelling east towards Tower Hill where we were then due to get off the tube and walk to an inconspicuous and unremarkable touristy hotel that Steve had booked us into for a one-night honeymoon. We were students, we had married in secret and we had no money, but I couldn’t have been more excited or more happy if he had been taking me to Mauritius.



Despite having no money, I had blown a foolish amount of student loan on what I was currently wearing. It was fortunate, or unfortunate, depending on your point of view, that January was the month that the loan came in. I had brought a 50s style halter-neck cream dress, which served as a wedding dress and wore bright red stilettos on my feet. What had really blown the budget was the underwear that the clothes were concealing. Underneath the dress I was wearing a cream halter-tie corset from a specialist corset maker in Spitlefields. It was cream with a lace overlay, and tying myself into it that morning I had admired how the boning and lacing pulled in my waist and pushed up my large, full breasts. The sweetheart neckline of the corset meant that the swell of my breasts rose above the neckline, creating a hint of cleavage which was classy but sexy. Around my waist I had fastened a lacy cream suspender belt and to the suspenders had attached the nude stockings that clad my long, pale legs. The lace tops of the stockings were especially sexy, framing my neatly trimmed pussy, which I hoped Steve would shave bald for me later. I had considered not wearing any knickers at all, but the thong I had brought was so pretty that I couldn’t resist wearing it. It was a matching cream number, lace across the front and with a bow at the back, which nestled in the crack of my arse. Looking at my lace-covered mound in the mirror I had reflected on how plump and full it looked, almost straining at the fabric, seemingly wanting to escape and be caressed by Steve’s invading fingers, even at that early hour of the day. My lily-white skin looked almost transparent against the cream of the underwear, and my red hair, teased into curls that cascaded over my shoulders, created a dramatic finish that it seemed a shame to spoil by putting a dress over the top. Combined with my bright, scarlet lipstick and matching heels, I looked ready to be fucked there and then.



We got to Tower Hill and giggling, half ran, half walked through the tourists and school children, meandering towards The Tower of London. Clip clopping down the steps into the subway in my heels, I hung on to Steve’s hand, my right hand in his newly married left. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, he dropped my hand and pushed my shoulders, firmly and quite harshly, against the wall of the underground walkway. Before I could speak he kissed me, hard and urgently, all of the desire he felt in his mouth. People continued to walk past us, no one taking any notice.



“I love you, my wife.” He growled in my ear, breaking off the kiss. And I took the back of his head in my hands and kissed him harder than before.



“I love you, my husband.”



Walking up to The Tower of London Hotel, fifteen minutes later we both looked up at the high, Georgian town house that had been converted our slightly careworn looking home for the night.



“Looks nice.” I said. Steve nodded.



“It wasn’t cheap.” He replied. I laughed, I knew it wasn’t the Ritz. But walking inside I was pleasantly surprised. And when Steve booked us in as Mr. and Mrs. Phillips I squeezed his hand and was excited for the night ahead. The manager took us to the top of the house, where were shown to the attic room: a large, light bedroom with a king-sized bed covered in white sheets, which lead to a big bathroom with attic windows and a huge tub. The rooms were sparsely decorated, white and bright, but was clean and airy and warm on that cold January day. There were fresh flowers on the chest of drawers next to the bed and a bottle of actual champagne. I was very impressed.



No sooner had the manager closed the door and dropped our two small bags down before he left, and Steve and I were on the bed, snogging like teenagers, my hair cascading behind me as Steve pinned me down, his hand snaking up my thigh.



“I can’t believe,” he breathed hotly, “that I have such a beautiful wife.” He continued kissing me and his hand found my pussy amidst the lace. We hadn’t managed to have sex in two weeks now, being in the house with Louise and the rest of the housemates, and he was keen. “Oooh,” he said, “it’s got it’s winter coat on.” He giggled and I reciprocated.



“I want you to shave it for me.” I replied, breathlessly. He groaned deeply, his erection rubbing at my hip.



“You have no idea how much that turns me on.” He said. We resumed our kissing. “Take your dress off.” I pulled the dress off and laid on my back. He inspected my underwear and kissed a trail of hot kisses along the swell of my breasts. “You look amazing.” I smiled. His fingers pulled aside my thong and probed inside me. I moaned. He fumbled with the trousers of his suit and released his already very hard penis. “If I put this anywhere near you I will cum in two minutes.” He said. I guided his hand back to my dripping cunt and mashed myself against his thick fingers for a moment. I didn’t care how long it lasted, I just needed to feel my husband inside me. Taking control of the situation, I sat up and manoeuvred so he was on his back. I straddled his hips, my thong and shoes still on, his trousers just pulled down his thighs. I pulled the fabric of my underwear aside and kissed his face, which was now a mess of my red lipstick. I eased him gently inside of me and we both moaned with pleasure as my warm, wet insides yielded to his hot hardness. I smiled, a huge grin.



“We’ve got to make it legal.” Steve closed his eyes and grinned back, not answering, just groaning as I began to move my hips back and forth. Helpless on his back he reached out for my swaddled hips and breasts and then held my shoulders in place, forcing my further down on to him.



“You beautiful little nympho.” He moaned. I reached forward to kiss him, and he felt behind me, groping my bum, a cheek in each hand, pulling me apart. Before I knew it, he was tickling my arsehole with his index finger and I cried out as he pushed it inside, creating pressure in my arse and my pussy that he knew would make me cum. I rode him harder and faster as he did this, sparks in my clit and convulsions in my cunt that meant a crimson flush appeared on my chest and breasts and an orgasm hit me right between the eyes. My pussy began to pulse as I came and I felt his balls beneath me swell and his cockhead grow. He pulled at the corset and freed my tits, squeezing them hard in his hands as his orgasm began. His face screwed up and his filled me with our first matrimonial cum. We broke away, breathless and coming down from the ecstasy of our fuck. Struggling to breathe, he gripped my wedding-ringed hand and said, “it’s official now.” I laughed.



An hour later, merry on real champagne, and hot from the bath, I laid on the soft bathroom floor, on a fluffy towel, with two pillows underneath my head and a towel underneath my hips. My breasts and hips were free from the corset and Steve sat, naked beside me, one nipple in his mouth and the other being squeezed in between his thumb and forefinger. He was preparing to shave my scrubbed clean little snatch, but had become distracted from the task in hand. Releasing my nipple from his mouth we went through how to do it again.



“So I put the aloe vera gel on?” he asked. I nodded. “And then shave her?” I nodded.



“It’s not rocket science.” I said. “It’s not even BA English and Music.” He laughed.



“You have no proof I’m not going to graduate BA English and Music with a third.” I smiled. I had always been the more studious of the two of us, but nevertheless, he was much brighter than he made out. He picked up the aloe vera gel from where he had lined it up with the shaving foam and the razor. He squeezed some out and covered the soft, downy hair with it. “So what do I do while it’s working it’s magic?” he asked. I stretched my toes and sighed a relaxed sigh.



“Just wait.” I said. He took my hand in his and guided it to his cock. It was hard again. I laughed. “Why on earth are you hard again?” I asked. Since fucking an hour ago, he had already spunked again all over my face as I sat at waist level in the bath.



“It’s what you do to me.” He sighed. He moved away and got between my legs, which were spread wide for shaving. “I love that I have a legal obligation to fuck this pretty little pussy, now.” He said, gazing at it. My eyes were closed but I laughed regardless.



“Conjugal rights.” I said. He placed his index finger on my clit and sparks shot up my pelvis. “You can shave it now.” I said. He removed his finger and foamed up my mound, delicious sensations filling me as he evenly spread the foam. He picked up the razor and began his task. Slowly and laboriously he rinsed the blade every two or three strokes and as he moved from place to place I felt the cool air on my genitals for the first time in weeks and waves of sexual longing passed through my limbs. When he had done he helped me get up and stood me back in the bath, taking the shower head and gently rinsed the foam, revealing a bald, sensitive flesh. I moaned.



“Open your legs.” He ordered. I moved my feet, standing now with legs further apart. He twisted the head on the shower and aimed the jet of water at my clit. I moaned. He moved the head in a circular action and my clit grew harder and bigger as I became more aroused. Suddenly he turned off the shower and pulled me down onto the edge of the bath, my back against the wall. My knees still far apart, he positioned himself in a sitting position and using his mouth and tongue and chin began sucking and licking and rubbing my sex. I held the back of his head and cried out with pleasure. I looked down and saw his throbbing erection above the waterline and felt his skilled tongue manipulating my pussy. Cumming in one sudden, huge groan, I gushed juice from my bare, beautiful honey pot into my husbands greedy, hungry mouth.



After that I wasted no time in pulling him from the bath and laying him on his back, on the bathroom floor. Facing away from him, I frenziedly lowered myself onto his cock, my back to him as I look him all the way down my already slick and ready hole. He gripped my hips as I took control of the situation. Bare, bald pussy made contact with his hard, cum-filled balls and my erect clitoris rubbed against them as I began to bounce. The mirrored wall in front of us showed our hot, horny bodies in their glory and I marvelled at my own, huge tits as they moved sexily before me. Steve was clearly enjoying the view too, as behind me I could see that his eyes were glued to the mirror. I leaned forward to increase the stimulation of my clit on his ballsack and as I did so, he lathed two fingers in his mouth and slid them into my arse. I screamed out and mercilessly he sawed the fingers in and out of my empty hole as I rode him and rode him.



“You like that you little whore?” He asked and I groaned in agreement. “I’m going to fuck that arse when you’ve made your slutty little cunt cum around my cock.” I growled dirtily at the filthy talk, which Steve knew helped me cum. I leaned ever further forward until the top half of my body was virtually horizontal. My vaginal muscles sucked at his penis and he continued fucking my arse with his fingers as I continued to grind my clit on his big, bulging testes.



“I want your fucking spunk in my arsehole.” I growled in a voice that was thick with desire. “I want you to fucking destroy my dirty little anus like you’re destroying my cunt.” All the while my sensitive nub was making contact with his balls and it felt out of this world.



“Cum round my dick, slut,” he bellowed. “cum round it so I can shove you against that wall and spray my jizz in your arse.” As if on cue I began to orgasm, screaming in ecstacy as my vagina and my clitoris came together. Juice gushed over Steve’s balls and pulled my hips down on him. I came for minutes, crying and screaming and moaning as the biggest orgasm of the day so far ripped through my limbs and brain and I gripped my own tits as I did so, Steve leering behind me in the mirror.



As soon as I stopped cumming he roughly pushed me off of him and stood, pulling me up as he did so. He pushed me against the mirrored wall and my breasts mashed against the cold glass. He smacked my arse and bit my neck, his desire now intense and unstoppable. He picked up the aloe vera gel and squirted some onto the purple, urgent head of his hard and quite remarkably huge penis. I had never seen it so big. In normal circumstances I would have dropped to my knees and taken that large, firm tool between my lips, but I knew where he wanted it and knew he wanted it now. He wanked the gel up and down his rod and pulled my bottom forwards, gripping at my hips. He lined the head up with my ring and in one, motion pushed his whole length into me. There was pain, but it was sharp and brief and was gone by the time his balls hit my cheeks.



“My arse.” He grunted, fucking his cock in and out of the already destroyed hole. “I was the first man in your slutty little arse.” He loved this fact and loved saying it as he fucked it.



“You’re the only man who’s ever made me cum in my arse.” I gasped. This spurred him on and his pace increased. One hand steadied himself against the wall and the other reached underneath us and found my cunt. He rammed three fingers deep into me and I screamed.



“I’m the only fucking man who knows how to do you how you want.” He groaned, in rhythm with his thrusts. In and out his cock sawed my arse and in and out his fingers manipulated my pussy, just as they had the first time we met. Taking his hand from the wall he grabbed a clump of my red, curly hair and pulled my head towards him. “Tell me about the dirtiest thing you ever did.” He demanded, his fingers in my cunt now pushing me further and further towards another fabulous cum.



“In the park.” I breathed. “With you and Ben and Diane and the stranger.” He groaned at the memory. “Ben’s huge cock in my cunt and the stranger in my arse as you tit fucked Diane.” He reached out for one of my own breasts.



“Fabulous fucking tits but not as good as yours.” I moaned. “I was so jealous of that guy with his cock buried in your beautiful arse,” he carried on, “Every second I was between Di’s big, fucking whore tits I couldn’t take my eyes off you, lost in your own world, those dicks in your holes.” He drove his penis further into me and his fingers moved from inside my dripping pussy to my clit. It had never been so hard or so ready to explode. “What else have you done?” He murmured. He knew all of these stories, but he obviously wanted to hear about them again now.



“In my bedroom with my brother and his friend,” I gasped. His hand quickened on my clit, “I needed cock so bad I didn’t care that it was my own baby brother in my cunt.” I knew he loved it when I used the word ‘cunt’. He moaned as I said it. “And his friend lost his load all over my face as my baby brother filled me with jizz.” With that I came and screamed as I did so, the glorious sensations of cock in my arsehole and fingers on my clit combining with the horny memories of my years of sexual abandon. I screamed and I screamed and my arse convulsed as the rest of my body convulsed. Steve pulled his cock out abruptly and pushed me onto the floor. He scrambled to straddle by chest and forced his cock into my mouth before I could agree or object. I groaned around it and tasted my own bum on his pole.



“You,” he gasped, breathlessly fucking my mouth, “are a grade A whore and I cannot wait to fuck every one of your whore-holes every day for the rest of my life.” He hit the back of my throat with the bulbous head of his prick. “From the first time I was in you, bent over the kitchen table in halls,” he went on, “you were the finest little hoe I’d ever had the privilege to fuck.” I moaned at his dirty words. He pulled his cock from my mouth and instantly began to cum, shooting ribbons of white, delicious spunk onto my face. “Fucking take this on your face, my slutty little wife.”



Less than five hours into our marriage, it was clear that Steve and I were on course for plenty more adventures, both in the bedroom and outside of it.

“Good, you may begin by repaying my hospitality. I want you to clear the table and rinse the china. You may then put everything in the dishwasher. When you are finished, I will continue your training.”



I obeyed at once, being very careful with the china. I wondered where Megan was while I was doing my domestic chores. The answer to that came a minute later. I was startled by first a flash then the unmistakable sound of a Polaroid camera ejecting a picture.



“Why did you do that,” I exclaimed? Remembering my prior instructions, I hastily added, “I meant to say why did you do that Mistress?”



“First, I am proud of you for remembering the proper form of address for your Mistress,” she replied. “As to your question, I took a picture of you simply because I felt like it. You must learn to never question me. Since you appear to be finished here, you will come with me. I’m afraid I will have to discipline you for your arrogance.”



Megan turned on her heel and motioned me to follow. She led me back upstairs, but not to our bedroom. Instead, she continued down the hall to the guest room. Using a key hanging from a ribbon at her waist, she opened the door and ushered me in. Megan had been busy. It was now one obviously intended for a girl. The bed was similar to Megan’s in that it had a wrought iron frame work and canopy. The bedspread was pink satin with a matching ruffled flounce.



As I surveyed her work, she spoke, “As you can see, I have installed a lock on the door. It will remain locked unless I decide otherwise. This is to be your room. This is where you will sleep unless I decide to allow you into your Mistress’s bed. It is now time for you to get ready for bed. You will strip off all your clothes and place them in the hamper. You will find the hamper in the closet. While you are there, I want you to select another nightie for yourself. As I’m sure you’re aware, a proper lady always wears something pretty to bed.”



I followed her orders, stripping my pretty lingerie. I looked in the closet and found two nighties there, one in pink the other in pale blue. They were both a frilly baby doll design with matching ruffled panties. I chose the blue one. As I pulled it over my head, I couldn’t help but marvel at how good it felt to be caressed by the soft nylon of the nightie. My nipples actually got hard as the sheer bodice cascaded over my chest. This was nothing compared to what happened when I slipped the panties up my legs. As they settled over my groin, my penis was teased by the slippery fabric, impelling it to erection. The panties were so sheer, there was no way I was going to be able to conceal my excitement from Megan. “Oh well,” I thought. There was nothing I could do about that and went back to the bedroom for her approval of my choice.



“I told you to merely select your nightie” she chided. “I said nothing about your putting it on. I suppose I should have known this would happen. What you have done is prove just how much you like wearing panties. I’ve turned you into such an eager little tramp, you act without permission. “Come here,” she ordered. “Let me see what it is that’s making such a nasty bulge in your pretty blue panties.”



I walked over to her and stood with my hands at my sides. She reached out and using just one manicured nail, traced the outline of my erection through the panties. “Would you look at the size of your clit?!’ she exclaimed. “Whatever am I to do with you? There is no way I can just put you to bed like this. You wouldn’t wait for the door to close before you started to play with yourself. I’m afraid I’ll have to take steps to ensure that doesn’t happen. I want you to go and lie on the bed, you know the position, so hurry up.”



I did as I was told and as before found myself with my arms and legs secured to the bed posts, again using four leather cuffs with lengths of nylon rope attached. When she was satisfied that I was completely helpless, Megan looked down at me and smiled at my predicament. “Now I can sleep securely in the knowledge that my new sissy slave won’t be able to get herself into trouble.”



She reached into my panties and wrapped her hand around my erection. “If I left you to your own devices, you’d start to play with yourself, doing something like this,” she teased as she began to slowly masturbate me. My whole body spasmed, aching with desire. “Look at this,” she said softly. “Look at how badly my sissy wants to come. Well, not tonight my pet, that is to be your punishment for not addressing me properly. In fact, you may as well come to understand that the only time you will be allowed any sort of physical release is when I deem it appropriate. That will happen only when I am satisfied that you are behaving properly and have truly earned the privilege. There will be times like now when it amuses me to tease and torment you without allowing you release. I have found this to me a wonderful discipline device. By the time I’m done with you tonight you’ll always remember the proper way to speak to me.”



She continued her stroking, asking in a husky whisper, “Don’t you wish you had been a good girl? Don’t you wish I’d tighten my grip and stroke you faster and faster until you filled your panties with your juices?”



“Yes Mistress,” I panted. ” Please Mistress, give me some relief, I’m very sorry, I’ll never speak to you in that manner again.”



“Not tonight my pet, perhaps in the morning if you are especially good, I’ll let you climax. For now though, I’m afraid I’ll have to continue your torment until I’m satisfied that you have truly learned a lesson.”



True to her word, she continued. Each time she felt me getting close to the precipice, she either slowed or stopped stroking me completely. My hips would buck involuntarily, striving to get release from my heightened arousal. This went on for several minutes before she removed her hand and pulled my panties back in place.



“Don’t go away,” she teased as she went into her room, returning with a pair of black lace panties and her Polaroid camera. “First, I’m going to take a few more pictures of your submission to me,” she said as she took several shots of my helpless situation. “My possession of these pictures will ensure that you don’t have any second thoughts about obeying me. Can you imagine the thrill the secretaries at your office would get out of these if I posted them in the ladies room?” I imagine they’d be quite jealous. I doubt any of them have a lingerie collection as vast as the one I have in mind for you.”



Megan waited a few minutes for the prints to develop before showing them to me. There was not a doubt in my mind that these pictures could ruin my career. They clearly showed me in tight bondage while wearing pretty lingerie. One shot in particular, showed my cock straining against my panties, proving how much I enjoyed my imprisonment. “Just one more pose and I’ll leave you to your dreams,” she continued. “I want you to be reminded of me while you sleep tonight,”she said pulling the black panties over my head. Once they were on, she arranged them so the crotch area was directly over my nose and mouth. Then, using a common safety pin, she took all the slack out of the waistband and secured them at my neck. I was now trapped inside her panties, forced to inhale a combination of her own sweet musk and the perfume she wore.



“I hope you appreciate these. I wore them at the office today and they are full of my scent. Now each breath you take will be a reminder of your Mistress and her sweet pussy. Unfortunately, that is as close as you’ll get. You have misbehaved and as much as it pains me, I have to instill some discipline.”



After taking more pictures of me, she turned and walked to the door, calling over her shoulder as she went, “Sweet dreams little sissy, I’m tired and have to get some rest. You must be tired as well and you’ll need your beauty sleep. I have a big weekend planned for you.”



The door was then closed and I heard the distinct sound of the lock being thrown. My erection continued to throb, causing me great discomfort. How, I wondered could something normally so pleasurable be so uncomfortable? I tested my bonds, hoping Megan had left enough slack for me to get to my aching tool. Of course there wasn’t any to be had. I reconciled myself to the fact that I would just have to try and go to sleep, that I was now alone, trapped until Megan decided to release me. Needless to say, sleep came very hard. The panty hood ensured that with every breath, I was filled with her essence. My erection was still there as I drifted off to sleep.



I awoke in the morning to the sound of Mistress’s voice, “Come on, sleepy head, it’s time for you to get up.” I opened my eyes and through the thin nylon of my panty hood, I saw Megan standing next to the bed. She was dressed, if you want to call it that in a pink half-cup bra with a matching garter belt and seamed stockings.



“I told you I was going to put you on an exercise regimen,” she said as she undid the safety pin holding my hood in place. She continued speaking as she pulled her panties off my head, “We may as well begin now. Your tummy needs to be tightened and I can’t think of a better way than with a few sit-ups. These are going to be very special sit-ups. You are going to have the privilege of servicing your Mistress while you exercise.”



I wondered what she meant by that. How was I going to do sit-ups and pleasure her at the same time? My question was answered in short order.



Reaching into the drawer of the night stand, she retrieved two items. The first was a sturdy leather collar with several rings attached. Megan placed it around my neck and secured it with a small padlock. She then untied the rope holding my wrists to the headboard and reattached them to the collar. Next, she picked up what appeared to be a dildo with two latex straps. Placing the base of the dildo against my chin, she stretched the straps over my head. One went around my neck, the other over my ears to the back of my head. When she was finished, I had a six-inch latex cock growing out of my chin.



“Now my pretty, you are going to please me while you tighten your tummy,” she said as she straddled my face, while facing my feet. She lowered herself until the head of the dildo was just at the entrance to her pussy. “Now I want you to stroke it in and out of my pussy very slowly,” she ordered. “At the top of each stroke, you are to lick my ass, swirling your tongue around my rosebud.”



I hesitated for just a few seconds, not sure what she meant. This prompted Megan to reach into my panties and lightly squeeze my balls. “Get to work sissy, I don’t have all day!”



I immediately complied, using my stomach muscles to raise my head, driving the dildo deep inside her love tunnel. As she had dictated, I used my tongue to bathe her ass, swirling it around and trying to stick it inside. In order to do this, I had to hold myself in position with just my abdominal muscles, putting considerable strain on them. By about the fifth repetition of this, Megan began to breathe heavily, bathing me with her juices. Before long, Megan gasped, “All right my pet, rest for a minute. I want to change position so your talented tongue can be put to better use.”



I stopped at once, grateful for the chance to rest. Megan repositioned herself so her pussy was facing me and after a short interval, again lowered herself to the dildo. “All right, I’m sure you know what I want at that top of each stroke,” she whispered. “Give me some pleasure and I just might let you up.”



I repeated my prior performance, the only difference being this time I used my tongue on her clit. Her body began to tremble as the onset of her climax approached. I used this to my advantage, holding myself with the dildo deep inside her while I sucked her clit between my lips and lashed it with my tongue. This was more than my Mistress could stand. Her orgasm overtook her and she screamed her pleasure. “OH YES MY PANTY PET, SUCK ME, FUCK ME, MAKE ME CUM.”



She ground her clit against my mouth, filling it with her pleasure honey. Her climax would begin to abate then another wave of pleasure would shoot through her, until at last she collapsed, resting against the headboard.



It took several minutes for Megan to regain her composure. Only when her respiration began to return to normal did she lift herself from the dildo. She sat next to my still bound form and while stroking my cheek said, “That was incredible my pet. The feeling of being penetrated and attended to orally at the same time pushed me to heights I’ve never reached before. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to use this toy and I can assure you, it won’t be the last.”



She unlocked the collar and removed the cuffs. “I want you to take a bath now. I have it prepared and to make sure you don’t do anything naughty, I will accompany you.”



With that statement all hopes of being allowed to relieve the pressure in my groin vanished. Megan was apparently intent on keeping me at a high state of arousal for the foreseeable future. I stood and undressed, placing my baby doll nighty in the closet hamper. I followed Mistress Megan into the bathroom where a tub was already filled with hot, scented water.



“Get in, sissy we don’t have all day,” she ordered.



I did as I was told, slowly immersing myself in the water. I began to wash, using the sponge handed to me by Mistress Megan. She next gave me a pink razor saying, “Now shave yourself all over. I don’t want to see any regrowth from last nights shaving. I know I did it for you last night but I want you to learn how to do this for yourself.”



Again, I followed her instructions, now without even so much as a second thought. While I shaved, I marveled at how much my life had changed in just a few short hours. This time yesterday, I was a typical single male, looking only for my own pleasure. I recognized the fact that now everything had changed. I was now just the play toy of a beautiful woman, trapped forever in her web of silk, satin and lace. What was even more interesting and in fact more to the point was that I was enjoying it! I found myself looking forward to the events to come. The questions I asked myself included; What would Mistress Megan dress me in when my bath was over? What color would she choose? Would I be allowed to wear a corset? All these thoughts and more occupied my mind as I finished the last of my shaving.



My reverie was interrupted by Megan’s next command. “All right my pet, it’s time to get out of that tub. We don’t want our pretty skin to get all wrinkled do we?”



I rose and stepped into the soft bath sheet she held and stood docilely as she patted me dry. “Come with me,” she said, leading me back into what I had begun to think of as “my room.” Once there, she had me sit, still wrapped in the towel at the vanity.



“You have such pretty features, I think a little enhancement would really bring out your natural beauty,” she purred.



With that, she set about giving my face a more feminine appearance. She plucked my eyebrows, applied mascara and eyeliner. Next, came the foundation and a little blush for my cheeks. The last thing applied was the lipstick, a bright crimson. She stood back, admiring her handiwork in the vanity mirror. “There’s just one thing missing,” she mused. “You need a more lady like hairstyle. You are such a lucky girl, I have just the thing.”



She left the room for just a moment, returning with a large round box. “Close your eyes my pet, I have a surprise for you.”



I closed my eyes in anticipation of what she had in store for me. I was sure by the size and form of the box that it would be a wig. My suspicions were confirmed when I felt Megan placed it on my head. She fussed with it for a moment, combing it into place. “All right, you may open your eyes now,” she instructed.



I opened my eyes and gazed at the creature in the mirror. The image was of a striking woman, one with shoulder length auburn hair. There was one thing that struck me immediately and I had to ask, “Mistress, the color is an exact match for my own hair and coloring. Is that a coincidence?”



“Of course not, my pet, I bought this several weeks ago in anticipation of this very moment. Once I was sure I wanted to turn you into my pantyslave, I took a chance that I could make this happen.” She reached down, trailing her fingers down my chest to the top of the towel. “Stand up now pet, it’s time to get you dressed.”



I followed her to the armoire where she opened several drawers. In each was an array of panties, bras, stockings and garter belts. There had to be at least a dozen sets there, all color coordinated. “Hmmm,” she mused as she inspected them. “Which color would be most appropriate for your first full day as my panty pet? Let’s see, since you are almost newly arisen to the realm of panties, I think pink will be perfect, yes a nice sissy pink for you today.”



She handed me a complete set of lacy, pink lingerie, indicating that I was to put it on. I took the stockings and rolling them first, pulled each in turn up my legs. Next of course, came the garter belt. This was quickly followed by the bra and panties. The bra was under-wired with push up pads sewn into the cups. Once in place, I once again had the illusion of small breasts. The panties were French cut, with lavish lace at the leg openings and side panels. I walked to the vanity so I could inspect myself in the mirror.



From behind me I heard Mistress Megan issue yet another order, “Go to the closet my pet, there’s a dress that will be perfect. You will also find a pair of white pumps that should fit you.”



In the closet I found the dress and shoes she had referred to. The dress was a white jersey knit, the kind that would cling to the body. The shoes were also pink with a white satin bow at the instep. I pulled the dress over my head and pulled it into place. The hem came only to the tops of my stockings. When I slipped the shoes on, the problem became even more pronounced, clearly showing the garter tabs.



Megan had come up behind me and her laughing voice interrupted my struggles to get the hem lower. “I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look like such a tramp while wearing a virginal white dress. What a pity you can’t show yourself off to the world like that. You’d give a eunuch a hard on with that outfit! Wait a minute! Why not? You look quite convincing. If I hadn’t dressed you myself, I would never know there’s a cock in those panties. I think we’re going to take you out like that. I had intended to take you shopping anyway, so we may as well make the best of it.”



“Please, Mistress, don’t make me do that,” I cried. What if we meet someone I know, or worse yet someone we work with?”



“Not to worry, my pet. I know of an absolutely fabulous shopping mall that’s about a two-hour drive from here. There will be little chance of us running into anyone we know there. Besides,” she continued as she handed me a pair of wrap around sunglasses, “these will serve to disguise you further. Enough of your back talk, be a good girl and do as you’re told and perhaps your Mistress will give you a special treat when we get back. Come along now, we have some shopping to do.”



With that said she turned on her heel and headed for the front door. “We’ll take your car, my pet. That way your hands will be occupied and you won’t be able to get into any mischief the way you could if I were to drive.”



She stood at the side of the car and watched with amusement as I attempted to get in the driver’s seat. “Not that way silly,” she taunted. “The way your dress rode up, I could clearly see your pretty white panties. No lady would ever allow that. Get out of the car and I’ll show you the proper way to enter a car while wearing a dress.”



Mutely, I obeyed and watched as Megan showed me the proper procedure. She sat on the seat, facing out with her legs together. Megan then kept her knees together and holding the hem of her dress down, pivoted on the seat, swinging her legs into the car. “Now, you will demonstrate for me,” she said as she reversed the process to get out.

Megan rested for a moment, still recovering from her climax. After a bit, she stood and while making sure the butt plug was still deep inside me, closed the zipper in my panties. I was once again trapped in the silken caress of the purple panties, with my “pussy” filled. Megan kissed me gently on the lips while stroking my cheek. “Sleep well my pet, for tomorrow will come all too soon.” With that said, she left me and went to was now her bedroom. Obviously, with my ankles and wrists still bound to the posts of the bed, I had no option but to try and get some sleep. By this time my body had accepted the butt plug and there was no longer any discomfort, only a constant reminder of my submission to Megan.



As I drifted off to sleep, I realized that my submission was not a physical exercise, but a mental one. Obviously, I was physically much stronger than Megan and if I really didn’t want all this to happen, I could easily have stopped it. This left me with the conclusion that I was born to serve a woman in this manner. I reflected on how lucky I was that Megan discovered my secret. Obviously, she really enjoyed her dominance of me. My wife was now my Mistress, and to make things even better, a caring and gentle one. She had never done anything to me that caused anything more than momentary discomfort, and then only when absolutely necessary.



As I grew more drowsy, my thoughts moved to what was to happen the next day. I must confess to a slight feeling of anticipation mixed with a little dread. What would it be like to spread my legs and accept Megan’s strap-on dildo inside me? How much would it hurt? Would I start to enjoy the feeling of another person invading my most secret place? My reverie was cut short with the realization that my thoughts were those that had to have gone through the head of every girl ever confronted with the impending loss of her virginity. My last thought before drifting off was that I hoped I wouldn’t disappoint Megan when the time came.



Sunday morning came all too soon and I awoke a few minutes before Megan came into my room. She untied the ropes from the cuffs and allowed me to visit the bathroom instructing me, “I want you to remove the plug and wash it thoroughly. You may then relieve yourself. Let me know when you are finished.”



I hurried into the bathroom and to my consternation, the moment I pulled down my panties, the butt plug fell out! My body had adjusted to the point that unless I made a conscious effort to hold it in, it would slip out. I was about to put it back in before Megan could see that it wasn’t where it belonged when I noticed her standing in the open doorway.



She noticed my look of consternation as I vainly attempted to put the plug back. “I rather thought something like that would happen. You poor girl! It’s obviously too small for you now. Finish going to the bathroom. When you are finished, I want you to remove your pretty lingerie and join me in your room. There is no need to put the plug back in. I have something else in mind.”



It took but a few minutes to complete my morning toilet and I presented myself to Megan as instructed. She was sitting on my bed with a package at her side. “Come here girl and stand in front of me, facing away,” she commanded.



I did as she instructed, slightly nervous about what might be in the package at her side. “



Now bend over with your legs spread as far apart as you can manage and grab your ankles. Since you have obviously outgrown last night’s toy, I’m going to have to use another type to prepare you for your deflowering.”



I assumed the proscribed position and soon felt the cool moistness of the lubricating gel being applied to my backside. Megan took a moment or two to explore my pussy with her fingers, massaging my prostrate until I was erect.



She reached around me to feel my erection. “Would you look at that?” she exclaimed. “The minute I start to play with her pussy, her clit gets all hard and excited. It’s almost as though she’s starting to associate having her pussy filled with sexual fulfillment. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, eventually all girls do. You’re going to love what I’m about to do to you. This will feel so good. You’re may never want me to take it out.”



I felt a slight pressure at my opening and relaxed, allowing Megan to insert her new toy inside me. Because I had just spent the last eight hours with the old plug inside me, this one went in with no difficulty whatsoever. To my surprise, it was much smaller than the previous one and I wondered what Mistress had in mind. If I had problems with the last one, wouldn’t a smaller one create even more of a dilemma for me?



I needn’t have worried! I heard a strange sound, like the one a blood pressure cuff makes when it’s being inflated. With each repetition of this sound, the plug in my “pussy” grew a little larger. Just as I was about to tell her that I was getting uncomfortable, Megan stopped pumping and closed the valve at the base of the plug. “There you are my pet. You are now in the final phase of being stretched and prepared for your deflowering. If you start to feel as though it is about to slip out and needs to be larger, you are to tell me and I will see to it. If everything goes right, when I take your cherry all you’ll feel is the pleasure of being made love to by your Mistress. I think today will be an easy one for both of us. I’m going to fore-go your morning exercise regimen. I want you well rested for tonight. Besides, I want to allow my anticipation to grow as well. It’s not every night I get to take a girl’s virginity.”



She walked from the room, calling back to me as she left, “I want you to put on your pale blue baby doll nightie and join me in the kitchen. I’m going to make us a good breakfast and then we’ll relax a little.”



When she left the room, I stood and while marveling at how good it felt to be so filled, slipped the baby doll nightie over my head. Once again as the slippery fabric caressed my body, my “clit” began to grow. This was even more evident when I pulled the gossamer like panties up my legs and over my privates. I slipped my feet into a pair of white slippers and went down to join my Mistress.



As I entered the kitchen, she looked up at me and smiled her approval. “Very good my pet, you are excited aren’t you? I know how much you have to be anticipating tonight. Sit down now and eat the breakfast I’ve prepared for you.”



I sat at the indicated place. Megan had prepared some sliced fruit and a bowl of cereal for me. I thanked her and ate, savoring the flavor of each mouthful. My enjoyment was somewhat impaired by the unrelenting pressure of the butt plug. Sitting had exacerbated the feeling of being completely filled and stretched. Megan noticed me squirming a little as I tried in vain to find a way to sit that alleviated my discomfort.



“You will get used to it my pet. I don’t want you to hurt yourself though, so I think when you’re finished with your meal and have cleared the table, you had better lie down for a while. You may join me in the living room and I’ll make sure you’re comfortable before I go out for a little while. I have to do some more shopping in preparation for tonight. While I’m gone, you are to do nothing but rest and think about what is about to happen in your life.”



I finished the last of my cereal and quickly set about clearing the table. Once everything was spotless, I went into the living room to be with Megan. She was already dressed and ready to go out, one hand behind her back.



She smiled at me and said, “I know you want to behave while I’m gone, so I have something here that will help you. Pull your panties down a little and I’ll show it to you.”



Once I had my panties down, she moved her hand from behind her back, showing me the latest device in my torment. It was a metal cock sheath with a strap designed to lock it in place. Megan reached down and slipped the sheath over my cock before fastening the strap around the base of my genitals. Next she produced a tiny brass padlock and fastened it to the miniature hasp in the strap.



“There, my pet, now you won’t be tempted to play with your clit while your Mistress is gone. As you can see, you will still be able to use the bathroom, but there’s no way you can play with yourself, the sheath will protect my interests in that matter. In fact, I will demonstrate what will happen if you do attempt to diddle with yourself.”



She swooped down on the head of my cock, sucking it into her mouth. She ran her tongue over the head, flicking the tip against the underside of the glands. In just a few seconds, my cock was growing, trying to escape the confines of the sleeve. The larger it got, the more uncomfortable I became, until the pain caused it to deflate on its own accord. Satisfied that I had learned the lesson she was giving, Megan stopped and grinned up at me. “You see, if you attempt to play with your clittie, all you’re going to accomplish is to frustrate yourself. You will have to behave while I’m gone. If you’re a good girl, I will give you a present when I return. There’s just one more thing I have to attend to before I leave. As long as your panties are down, I may as well inspect your plug. Turn around and spread your legs so Mistress can make sure you’re properly plugged and inflated to the proper amount.”



I felt her tug at the base of the plug, checking to see that it was not about to come out. “That’s wonderful,” she exclaimed. “There has been no air escaping at all. It goes to show that when you buy a quality product, it really pays off.”



Satisfied that I was prepared for her absence, she pulled my panties back in place and turned to leave. “There’s plenty of mineral water in the refrigerator if you get thirsty and the remote for the television is in the drawer of the coffee table. I want you to relax while I’m gone, so feel free to make yourself at home.”



She kissed me on the cheek and left me to my own devices. I took a moment to examine the sheath around my clit and found it was as sturdy as I had first feared. There would be no hanky panky while Megan was gone. I contented myself with doing just as she had instructed and sat down to watch a little television. There was only one problem. I found that the only thing I could do was watch a tape Megan had left in the VCR. Every time I tried to change to regular television, I got an error message stating that option was not available. Obviously, Megan had intended me to watch the tape, so I got comfortable and pressed the play button.



As the tape played it became readily apparent that it was about the feminization of an unwilling male. The title of the video was “Forever in Panties.” The whole thing was taking place in an office setting. The man was an executive and the woman his secretary. The message was quite clear now. Megan was giving me a preview of things to come.



I watched with rapt fascination as the woman in the tape inflicted her will on her unwilling subject. The premise was that she had found a pair of lacy red panties and a magazine showing men dressed in their lacies. He had thought it secure in the top drawer of his desk, but had forgotten to lock it just one time. That was all it had taken for his secret to come out. She explained in no uncertain terms that unless he danced to her tune, the whole company would find out about what she referred to as “his dirty little secret.” This woman used none of the subtlety Megan had used in my journey into satin and lace. She pulled a bra, garter belt and stockings to match his panties from her purse and made him strip and put them on. Once he had completed this task to her satisfaction, she made him put on a pair of heels and model the lingerie for her. She instructed him in the proper way to swing his hips in an exaggeration of the typical runway model’s walk. Once she was bored with this, she reached again into her capacious purse and pulled out four pairs of handcuffs, the kind you can buy at a novelty store. She made him lay face down on his own desk and fastened his ankles and wrists to the legs. He was now spread-eagle, open and vulnerable to whatever she wanted to do. She walked around to where his head was and raised her skirt to show him that she had taken off her panties just before confronting him with her blackmail scheme. The camera zoomed in for a close up of her brunette pussy, framed perfectly by her mint green garter straps. She grasped his head with both hands and shoved her pussy hard against his mouth, forcing him to give her oral attention until she came, bathing his tongue with her oils.



If this slave thought she was finished abusing him, he was sadly mistaken. She used her previously worn green panties to gag him with, forcing them into his mouth before securing them with his own belt. She then pulled a dildo and strap on harness from her bag and after stepping into it, walked to where his ass was laying at the edge of the desk. He tried in vain to close his legs, but the cuffs prevented it. She slipped a finger first into a jar of petroleum jelly, then into his nether hole, coating it thoroughly. Sensing what was to come, he tried to protest, to ask for mercy but the panties in his mouth precluded anything but a muffled moan. She continued coating both his ass and the dildo protruding obscenely from her groin. When she was satisfied he was ready, she slowly positioned the dildo at his hole and thrust herself inside him with one smooth motion. This shot was taken in such a manner as to show his face as she entered him. The look of pain and surprise on his face was not contrived. I was sure he really was suffering, his ass screaming from the unwelcome invasion. She paid no heed to his pain, continuing to stroke herself in and out until the friction of the dildo against her pussy drove her into the throes of another shattering climax.



Not until then did she relent, pulling the dildo from his ass. She reached beneath him and finding his cock, teased him about how hard it was. She wondered aloud how could his cock stay so hard if he didn’t like what she had done to him. She removed the belt holding her panties in his mouth and using them on his cock, stroked and teased him, urging him to fill her panties with his semen. The hapless male was in no position to argue and his body betrayed him yet again, spurting his male essence into the silky folds of the panties wrapped around his cock. The video ended with the secretary handing him a fresh set of lingerie and commanding him to put them on. She let him know that this was not to be just a one time affair, in fact far from it. He was hers now and his life was to be spent “Forever in Panties.”



Watching the video had the predictable effect on my cock, and the restraint of the sheath had made me quite uncomfortable, not uncomfortable to shut the video off, just enough to constantly remind me that I was restrained in the most effective manner possible. I knew it would not be possible to attain any sort of relief while in the cock restraint, so I didn’t bother trying. The combination of the harness on my maleness and the constant pressure of the inflated butt plug coupled with thoughts of what Megan was going to do that evening and the effects of the video, made me as aroused as I had ever been in my life. To be that excited and at the same be denied the ability to relieve the pressure building in my loins was sweet torment indeed. I found myself looking forward to Megan’s return. I was ready to accept anything if only she would allow me some relief from the pressure building in my balls.



I went to the entertainment center to remove the tape and noticed a stack of books and magazines piled on the built in bookshelf. Curious, I picked them up and started reading the titles.



It immediately became apparent that Megan had been planning my submission for some time. Virtually every title had something to do with women putting their men in panties. Some were obviously works of fiction, others more along the lines of a “how to” manual. It was one of the latter that caught my eye and I pulled it down and began to browse through it. It was titled “How to Petticoat your Man”. The author took you step by step, all the way from identifying a likely prospect for feminization to the finer points of impressing on your new slave how enjoyable living in panties could be. While the author went to great lengths to impress the reader with the idea that men are here only to serve women, she also was quick to point out that at some point the slave should be allowed his own sexual release. It was also pointed out that at least initially, any form of release must be combined with either some form of bondage or humiliating situation, preferably both. A prospective Mistress was instructed to create a task/reward situation, associating obedience with intense pleasure.



At no point was a slave allowed to climax unless he was wearing lingerie. Furthermore, a Mistress must make sure he was denied the ability to “take matters in his own hands”. The only time he would be allowed the pleasure of release was when he was with his Mistress and under her control. The author suggested the exact same harness I was now wearing. This left me with no doubts as to where Megan was getting most of her information. I intended to read further in an attempt to find out what other sorts of training I could expect when I heard the sound of Megan’s car pulling into the driveway. I quickly put the book back and went back to the couch. I had barely settled there when the door opened and Megan strode in.



Glancing at the bookshelf, she commented, “I see some of my books are not where they were when I left. Were you doing a little light reading my pet?”



“Yes, a little,” I admitted. “I wanted to get some idea as to what sorts of things might be in store for me.”



“If our relationship is to flourish, you will have to leave that in my hands. You will have to learn to trust me and my judgement as to what is an appropriate training regimen.” Changing the subject, she continued, “I trust you watched the video I left for you before you started snooping in my library?”



“Once I discovered that there was no choice,” I replied. “I felt sorry for the man in that film, his Mistress wasn’t anywhere as gentle with him as you’ve been with me.”



“That was the primary purpose for my wanting you to see it. I want you to appreciate how easy you have it. Most women in my position don’t give a damn about their sissies. In fact, a lot of them only enjoy themselves when their slave is in pain.” She reached down and stroked my cheek, continuing, “You are fortunate that I would rather seduce you into your frillies than beat you into wearing them. I want us to share the pleasure of your submission. That can only occur if you are a willing participant in our playtime. I wanted to wait until later to take you to my bed, but I’m too worked up. It’s time to begin your final preparations. I want you to go up to the bathroom and remove all your lingerie. I will join you there in minute to remove your plug and clit protector.”



With no small amount of trepidation, I climbed the stairs and set about removing my nightie. I had barely closed the lid on the laundry hamper when Megan came in carrying a large rubber bag with a hose and nozzle attached.



“It’s time for your next lesson in feminine hygiene. I want you to be able to fully enjoy the feeling as I take you for the first time. Now that the plug has done its work, the final preparation will be to give your pussy a good douche.”



She put the bag down and used a small key to unlock the sheath from my cock. Next, she had me bend over and spread my legs while she deflated and removed the plug in my ass.



“Now, I want you to get down on your hands and knees and rest your shoulders on the floor,” she said as she began to fill the bag.

**********



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.

1 – Surprising an old friend



It only started out about a year ago. Actually, really, it was much longer ago. But two years ago things REALLY got going. It was when Mike, my brother-in-law, asked me to have a look at his computer, the CDR wasn’t doing what it should. So one evening when his wife, my wife’s very best friend and business partner, was visiting my wife – it all gets just a bit complicated HERE, anyway, I went over to see what I could do.



After about an hour I thought I had it sorted, it was a software rather than a hardware problem. I shouted down to Mike to show him what I’d done but when I called he wasn’t there. Probably gone over the road to see his wife, or mine maybe. I said it was complicated.



Mike and I had been mates for donkey’s years, ever since school sixth form. Done everything together, even dated best friends, Marianne and Carol. And yes, even married them. OK, we’d all split up to go to college, the girls both got into Cambridge, I went to Exeter, Mike went to Oxford so we were some distance apart but we still met up in holidays and for weekends and so on. Mike stayed on to do his Master’s, I left and got a job and married Carol about 6 months later, we reckoned we could afford it by them, both working and so on. Mike and Mari got hitched another 6 months after that just after he started work.



And we all lived near Brum, we liked the area, felt accepted there, on different sides of the city to start with but later we ended up in two nice houses on opposite sides of the road, and only about 100 yards apart. The girls were delighted, living so near to each other, they ended up setting up their own small business together, and Mike and I still got on really famously.



Anyway, back to THE day. The first day. The very first day that I realised my mate of long-standing had an interest I hadn’t known about. When I realised Mike wasn’t around I decided to have a bit of a play, to see just what Mike’s so-called ‘super-computer’ was about. It wasn’t really super, just quite a bit newer than mine. From the Desktop I clicked on ‘Documents’ and saw – to my surprise – a filename which surprised me. It surprised me a lot.



‘Jennyinlondon.jpg.’



I recognised the name. I’d seen it before. I’d downloaded it. I clicked to be sure and – yes. I was right. Mike had been careless, he shouldn’t have left the shortcut there, he should have deleted it but he hadn’t. I looked. At an attractive woman on a street probably in London, chatting to a street vendor of some sort. An attractive woman, I have to say, but then like I said I’d seen it before. And other pictures of Jenny in different places and in different poses. Including pictures of her in very smart and attractive dresses, or in exotic skimpy lingerie, or even in school uniforms. And others where, proudly protruding from under her skirt you could see her cock. Jenny was a transvestite, probably still is. I’d never met one, never even seen one in real life except maybe one day in Centenary Square in Brum but I wasn’t really sure about that one. If I hadn’t had Carol with me at the time I might well have followed her. Him. Or her, followed her to try to find out.



But on the Web, that’s different. I’d seen lots. Absolutely loads. I loved to look at the ultra-feminine figures and faces and legs and hair of men dressed as women. But Mike – that surprised me. I’d known him for years, never suspected …



“Well Ben. You too?”



Mike had surprised my day-dreaming, I hadn’t heard him come into the study – the small bedroom really. And what he had said and the tone of his voice had surprised me too. How long had I known Mike? Years, obviously. Yet I had never realised, and neither had he, that we shared a common interest, a common fascination, with TVs. Trannies. Transvestites. Men who liked to dress up in women’s clothes. I smiled, rather weakly, at him.



“Well, I think the CDR is fixed, mate. PC up and fully running.”



Mike didn’t say anything. He just reached up to the CD rack beside the PC and took a disc from it, one hand-labelled ‘footy pics’. He leaned over my shoulder to put it into the machine, then took the mouse and clicked through the directories. He double-clicked a file, I didn’t see which, and on-screen appeared a picture of a woman. Except I knew, I KNEW, it wasn’t a woman. This was a tranny, sitting in a café somewhere smiling as ‘she’ reached for her coffee cup. You could see people all around the edges of the picture, obviously this was a tranny who was ‘out’, or at least one who went out dressed up.



And dressed? Well! The image was outstanding. A ‘woman’ with longish red hair, gorgeous makeup, tasteful but good-looking jewellery, and a wonderfully sexy outfit – white blouse deep cut at the front to show some cleavage, short tight black skirt, stockings and high heeled shoes. I’m sure they were stockings. I looked at the picture. Then I looked at Mike. He smiled at me.



“That’s Rebecca, somewhere in the States, Ohio I think, my favourite tranny. She just looks so gorgeous. If she wasn’t a man I could fuck her, really. What do you think?”



I had to agree with him, and countered his efforts by going online and finding ‘Kathleen’ – an English TV he’d not encountered before. Some of her pictures are not that brilliant but when I showed him the series with him/her in a purple latex dress, a gorgeous redhead in black stockings and very high heels his only comment was – Mike always was much cruder than me – “Christ I’d love my cock up that cunt!”



At which point I heard a noise from downstairs – the girls were back. Mike quickly took charge of the mouse and logged off quickly, ending up on a financial services site in case one of them popped a head into the study. As I left a few minutes later Mike returned to the topic of transvestism.



“You ever dressed yourself, Ben? I bet you have. I did a bit when I was younger, in my mother’s stuff. Just a bit you understand. Couldn’t do it now though.”



Indeed he couldn’t. Just before college, having been medium height for all his teen years Mike had shot up. And since then he’d broadened out, to about 6 foot 3 and nearly 14 stone. Not a ‘womanly’ figure at all. And that’s not saying anything about his hairiness, in some ways I’d been jealous of his manly very hairy chest.



I had to admit it – he’d been honest with me.



“Yes, same as you Mike I think, in mother’s stuff. And after we got married I did think about dressing in Carol’s clothes but really she’s way too small.”



Carol was not exactly petite but heading that way, certainly more than a whole size less than me in girly clothing terms. His last comment surprised me.



“I bet you could in Mari’s clothes, Ben. About size 12, some of them are 14 I know. They’d be about your size I reckon.”



I looked at him, somewhat amazed.



“I reckon you should give it a go, mate. Could be fun.”



I thought about what Mike had said as I walked home. The idea did appeal, though I was still very surprised he’d mentioned it. And over the next few days, it kept coming into my mind again. Mike didn’t say anything, I could tell he hadn’t forgotten, but he was waiting for me to say something first. And when, on the Friday afternoon when I got home, my wife said she and Marianne wanted to go shopping in Brum the next day, and would it be OK if they went in my car, the thought of ‘dressing’ popped into my mind again.



The next day, just after they’d driven off I went over the road and round to Mike’s back door. I don’t know why really, just seemed the ‘safer’ thing to do in some way.



“OK Mike, we’ve got about five hours I reckon. What about this dressing up lark then?”



I wasn’t really surprised – he’d thought of it too, he was just about to give me a ring and suggest it. We didn’t take all the five hours, it took Mike about half an hour to clear up the stuff he was doing and another half to pick out some things he though suitable. So a couple of hours after going round to his house I was parading round the living room wearing one of Marianne’s dresses and a pair of her tights, over a bra and panties and tights. The shoes had been difficult, my feet were over a size too big but I’d found a pair with about 1 1/2 inch heels where I could loosen the ankle strap and slide my feet in. I was worried I might stretch them too much, but Mike said his wife rarely wore that particular pair anyway.



“So – how do I look?” I asked him eventually, sitting on the edge of his sofa and ‘provocatively’ crossing one nylon-clad leg over the other.



“Actually Ben, not too bad. You surprise me, OK you’ve not had the chance to choose very carefully or to buy special stuff like lingerie or makeup or a wig. But your figure is not bad, I think the shape of the dress helps.”



I looked in the big mirror in the hall. In some ways not bad but in others – well – I was a guy in a frock, and a silly-looking guy at that. I decided to change back, well before the ladies were due to return. We had plenty of time to straighten things out and get them exactly where they had come from and still had an hour to spare.



And that could have been that, been there done that, got the T-shirt etc. In fact over the next couple of weeks, though Mike and I chatted a bit about what we’d done and what we thought about it a few times, when we were on our own, neither of us mentioned a repeat session. Until Carol told me she and Mari had another conference lined up, on a Friday again it was, and said they wouldn’t be back until after 10. Which gave us loads of time after work to do just that, have another session though this time Mike had come up with a skirt-and-sweater combination he thought I should try.



And we did it again, and again, three or four times over the next couple of months, trying different outfits of Mari’s each time, going just a little further on every occasion. Mike bought some stockings and a suspender belt for ‘Bethany’ to wear, I got some clip-on earrings and the next time a cheap ladies’ watch, and so on.



Then, as the run-in to Christmas began, Mari and Carol were busier and busier in their business, most of the time while Mike and I were both at work but just sometimes at a weekend. At the beginning of December Carol mentioned that the ‘girls’ would be off in Newcastle the next Saturday, and she hoped we wouldn’t mind, or maybe we’d like to come along too, make a weekend of it. I umm-ed and aah-ed at the suggestion, by that time I was really getting into the dressing up lark and I’d had a couple of thoughts, a full day at it would be wonderful. As it was Mike had to say no in the end, he had a client who was staying in Brum Friday night, needed ‘client-sitting’, looking after the evening before.



And I was a bit busy that Friday evening too, I didn’t see Mike at all until I went round to see how he was getting on at about 9 on the Saturday morning.



“OK Ben. Time for Bethany, do we think? I’ve got a surprise for you, went shopping on Wednesday, something I’d like to see you in. How about it?”



If Mike hadn’t suggested it I’d have done so myself. I had a couple of surprises for him too. Shoes, I’d managed to find a pair to fit. OK my feet aren’t massive but in Ladies’ terms they are big. In a factory shop I passed on my way back from work every day, while looking for a pair of ordinary men’s shoes for me I had looked over the women’s section briefly and come up with 3 pairs which I had thought would fit. They hadn’t been particularly expensive and I’d bought the lot as well as the pair of ordinary black shoes I’d gone in for.



I hadn’t had time to be embarrassed, in fact the sales assistant hadn’t even looked in the boxes, she just scanned their codes and asked me to sign the card receipt. When I got home I’d tried them, with a pair of Carol’s tights over my feet to get the right thickness. Perfect. I felt very pleased with myself. I could have tried on the stockings I’d bought too, in the supermarket, but didn’t want to go too far, not at home, not with Carol due soon.



“OK Ben, how about this?” asked Mike, holding up one or Mari’s dresses.



It was a simple black number, quite similar to one of Carol’s which I’d always thought she looked good in. Your actual basic LBD. The dress looked good, but the size didn’t. It was bigger than Carol’s LBD but I had doubts about getting into it and said so.



“OK then how about – voila!”



Mike held up something. I couldn’t see what at first, then I realised. Any self-respecting tranny admirer should have recognised it at once but I just wasn’t expecting it, and the light caught the clear plastic packaging rather oddly at first. But I got it as soon as Mike moved it. It was a basque. A black lace-up basque, one of the ‘figure enhancers’ I’d seen in tranny magazines and on so many TV pictures online. Black, shiny, and tight. I gasped a little.



“I reckon with that on, Ben, you can get into the dress, and what about this as well?”



It was obvious Mike was feeding some fetish of his. Like many men, me included, long willowy blondes feature high up on our list of desirable females. Indeed Mike had married one. Well, long, blonde, and not too far from willowy at least.



“So I’m to be Marianne, am I?” I suggested. “Just because you couldn’t get her into a black basque.”



“No, Ben. No, definitely not. It’s just when I went into the sex shop, you know, the new one in the City centre, near that PC shop you almost live in sometimes, they had this on special offer. Less than half price. And a wig might make such a difference. I think so anyway. So, how about it? Want to give it a go?”



At which point Mike’s mobile beeped, he’d changed the ringtone. I’d told him ‘The Sting’ was a naff tune and he’d put on something else which that first time I didn’t recognise. I did later!



He answered it, muttered a bit, mainly listening, then said “OK, about twenty minutes?” and rang off.



“The Rugby Club. The treasurer’s not there so I have to go down, I’m the only one they can find with the keys to the safe. Well, want to do it while I’m gone? No wives until late tonight. OK?”



I thought. Didn’t take me long, the thought of the basque, and the wig, and the shoes I’d brought, together they sent a bit of a tingle down my spine. And elsewhere.



“OK then Mike. I’ll give it a go.”



2 – Dressed to surprise



He really did have to dash off, I knew he’d get to the club in about a quarter of an hour the way he drove, it would have taken me about twice the time. But he had the sort of car you just have to drive fast – to justify buying it really. I set to, looking out the black panties I’d brought, they would go well with the basque, well, the bustier really, it was a combined job, bra and ‘cincher’, that’s the name, just couldn’t think of it for a moment. Not a word you come across in everyday language.



I stripped and showered first, pulling the panties on tight. Then the basque, that was a bit of a nightmare. It really was rather tight, very elasticated but I could feel it doing its job. And when I pulled on the lacings, well. It was some piece of engineering, let me tell you. As I pulled tighter and looked in the mirror I could see my waist shrinking, but also the small amount of ‘spare flesh’ I had round my waist, that seemed to be pushed upwards and to mould itself into the cups of the bra section. That, together with the slight padding under the bra cups, combined to give me something approaching the ‘hourglass’ figure beloved of all trannies worldwide. I realised now how some of the guys – the trannies that is – I’d seen on the web did it. With that basque or an even better quality version, a femme figure really was achievable.



Quite what Mike expected to find when he came back I didn’t know but I wanted to do as good a job as I could, not for him, for me. I was heading down the road to full-blooded tranny-ism, and I liked it!



The stockings came next. Yes, stockings. Black and quite sheer, not seamed though, I’d thought that would be going too far. I slid them up my thighs, enjoying that classic TV feeling, and clipped them to the straps at the bottom of the basque-cum-bustier. It felt good. Very good. I slid my toes into the black high heels I’d bought, the ones with about a 4 inch heel, and stood up. For the first time in shoes properly my size, and for the first time in such high heels. I walked steadily round the room, loving the feeling of my nylon-clad thighs rubbing together as I walked, and enjoying the high-heel experience for the first time really. It was fun, it felt so good, and I was thrilled I coped so well with the heels. When I looked in the mirror again – really I was a little disappointed. A man in a frock, well, no, in a basque actually, but a man definitely, and a rather silly-looking one at that.



But I had to get on. I hadn’t finished yet. My other slight surprise for Mike and for myself was a gift-pack of make-up items, good quality, I’d splashed out on at the Selfridges in the town centre. I’d read comments online from trannies, one thing several had said was that you should always use good quality make-up, that cheap stuff may seem as good but it wasn’t. So I’d looked for a gift pack, one with all the bits in, and found one by Dior, yet again at a reduced price, just like the wig Mike had bought.



And in the previous week, on two occasions when Carol had been out in the evenings, I’d had time to practice a bit, to look at some of the hints and tips in a couple of her magazines. I laid out the items, the blusher, the eye-shadow, the eye-liner and so on beside Mari’s own stuff on her dressing table in the bedroom, looking carefully where I put things and at her stuff so I would be able to leave everything just as I’d found it. I set to, carefully and methodically, a little foundation first, then covering the whole face but not too thickly. Blusher, mascara, eye-shadow, eyeliner, eyebrow pencil, all meticulously applied as I’d practiced and as I’d seen in the magazines.



I loved the experience, the artistic efforts needed, as I progressed I began to feel more and more feminine, to actually feel like a woman ‘putting on her face’ before going out or something. The lipstick came last, very steadily and slowly outlining my own lips with what I thought was a cute ‘cupid’s bow’ in the middle of the top lip. I used a thin lip-liner to finish, then a slight covering of lip-gloss.



Finally, the wig. It wasn’t quite as long as I’d first thought, nor yet quite as blonde, I didn’t know quite how wigs were sized and I don’t think Mike did either, But it did fit smoothly and snugly over my head, covering up absolutely all of my own thinning and slightly darker hair. I clipped the two tiny clips into place behind the ears and gave the whole wig a bit of a brushing, feeling it pull down on the clips, it felt tight. But secure. Then I looked at the whole facial effect.



And this time – I felt good. Very good, The man in a frock, or whatever, had gone. Nowhere to be seen. And in ‘his’ place was a woman. An attractively made-up blonde woman, maybe a little younger than me but – I did think I might have been misleading myself at the time but I genuinely did believe it – female. Most definitely female. I loved it!



And I’d nearly finished. The stick-on nails, a bright-ish red to match my lips I hoped, were in fact easier to put on than I’d feared. The fake gold hoop earrings looked good too, clipped to the lobes of my ears, showing clearly under my longish blonde locks. I had a quick look in Mari’s little jewellery box and found what I wanted, something I’d seen her wearing before, a black velvet ‘choker’ with a single gold oval-shaped embellishment at its centre. I tied it on and then slid onto my fingers about five of the cheap costume ring’s I’d bought, basically fitting them onto whichever fingers they fitted. The ladies’ watch came last, then I stood and turned to reach for Marianne’s little black dress.

My own excitement was mounting but the tight black panties were doing their job, preventing anything from showing, as I stepped into the dress and pulled it up round my shoulders. Right then I could have done with Mike to help zip me up but I managed despite not being used to the longish fingernails. I picked up the handbag I’d got out on Marianne’s wardrobe earlier and walked down the stairs. She has a longish mirror in the bedroom but a full-length one in the hall. I stood about two metres from it. I looked.



I trembled with excitement, it was an almost-orgasmic experience seeing for the first time, in almost my full glory – Bethany. The woman I’d often imagined being. Well, now, courtesy of Mike and indeed Marianne, I was looking at her. Her. Definitely her, or at least that’s what I wanted to think. I realised I was wearing things I’d bought myself, some Mike had bought, some of Marianne’s but nothing of Carol’s. Somehow that seemed right.



I busied myself for a few minutes, then the phone rang. Maybe it was Mike, maybe it was Marianne, even Carol, or indeed someone else. I realised it wouldn’t be strange if I answered it, whoever it was, Carol or I were often round here and sometimes on our own. It was Mike.



“Sorry, Ben, more problems here than I thought but it’s all sorted out now. Be back in fifteen I hope. All right that end?”



“Sure Mike. I’ll still be here?”



Mike’s voice became much quieter.



“Did you try the dress on? I wish I’d seen it. Was it OK?”



“Yes, sure Mike. See you soon.”



And I hung up.



I turned and crossed into the kitchen, opening the fridge. Mike wasn’t much of a cook, Marianne always had to leave him meals prepared, she was sure he’d either not eat or just get junk food of some sort if she didn’t leave him anything. I was right, there were a few pieces of a pie and a winter salad. That would do. Very quickly, again the long nails got in the way a little but I coped, I got the things out and onto the table in the dining room, cutlery and crockery and so on, and a bottle of white wine from Mike’s wine rack with a couple of glasses.



I left them there and went into the lounge as I heard the car draw up. I breathed in, deeply, trying to prepare myself. I heard the front door open, then the lounge. I looked up and smiled.



“Hello Mike. Ready for lunch? Would you open the wine please, I’ll serve.”



I looked at him again, and couldn’t keep a straight face. I just grinned.



He grinned too. “Christ Ben, I never expected …. You look great.”



“Bethany” I said.



We had discussed tranny names, what the femme version of me should be called.



“Err – yes. Bethany. I mean – I’m very impressed. Really. You look very good. Way better than I imagined. That dress suits you, it really does. Look, Bethany, I’d date you. Really I would. I’ve dated far less attractive women, well, before Mari or course. But you, well, I thought you’d make a good-looking tranny but, with the makeup and the wig and dress and all, streuth, you really do look totally female. I mean it!”



And after that we settled a bit. Mike poured us both a glass, then had a second himself, and a third, while I served the meal. As we ate, as the wine got to him a little, he kept on saying nice things, paying me compliments, I was just loving it. What tranny wouldn’t?



Then, as we began clearing away, his phone rang. Again. I got the tune this time. Lola! The Kinks, how appropriate. It was Mari this time. Again Mike mainly listened, muttering responses, he was trying to speak clearly but it was a bit difficult, he’d had most of the bottle of wine, I’d just had the one glass.



“Tomorrow” he said, slightly surprised, into the phone. “No, that’s OK. What? …..Oh yes, I know, don’t worry, I’ll get some…….. No, this afternoon………… Sure…………… Right then, bye love.”



He put the phone down. “Shit!”



“What’s wrong Mike?”



Surprisingly, even though the TV session was really finished I kept up the voice, still trying to sound feminine.



“Mari’s parents. They rang her, they’re coming here.”



“What? When?” I asked, obviously alarmed.



“It’s OK – Bethany.” Mike grinned, again. “Tomorrow, late morning. But I have to get some beer in, Mari’s Dad is very particular. Boddingtons Special Export, it has to be, and I had the last can the other day. Mari just wanted me to get some.”



“Oh that’s OK then” I replied. “You can go out later. Anyway, shall I change now?”



I looked across at Mike, smiling. I’d had fun. The dressing up and making up had gone so much better than I’d expected.



“Thanks for the things you bought, Mike, I really had a good time. I never thought I’d have the chance, well, you know, after seeing trannies on the web and on TV, to do this sort of thing myself. It really has given me a buzz.”



I started to move towards the door in the hall, to head upstairs and to become Ben again.



“Whoa, hang on Bethany. How about we both go get the beer now? You come with me? OK?”



I looked across at him again. True he was a bit tipsy but he wasn’t that far gone, Mike always could hold his drink better than me. Bigger guy, really, more bulk, I suppose that diluted the effect to an extent.



“Surely you don’t …”



He interrupted me. “Ben, or rather Bethany. You look great, believe me. Nobody will ever realise. And we don’t have to go far, just to the shops. We could go to the arcade the other side of the ring road, you know, by the Stratford roundabout, nobody we know goes there I don’t think. You can do it, come on.”



It was my turn not to speak. I was amazed he had suggested it. One the one hand it did seem a totally daft idea, yet on the other hand ….



“Bethany, that’s who you look like, and sound like as well, you may never get another chance. Listen, you remember that .jpg I showed you last week, that tranny Georgina standing outside the Black Bull in Halesowen, remember, we’ve both been in that pub. I’d never have believed it myself, she obviously enjoyed herself going out and being seen and having the picture done, well you could do the same sort of thing. Anyway Bethany, I can’t drive, not after that wine. We can go in my car but you’ll have to drive.”



3 – Supermarket Surprise



That did it. I’d only driven Mike’s car a few times, he was very possessive. The chance to drive it myself, even just for three or four miles, I had to take it. But – dressed like that?



“OK Bethany, decision time. You can slip Mari’s leather jacket over your dress, it’ll go quite well. You’ll look really good. How about it?”



I smiled at Mike and cooed.



“Very well, honey” I replied, smiling to myself as I said ‘honey’. “I’ll drive you there. But you have to do all the talking. OK?”



Mike got me the jacket, with it on and Mari’s black bag slung on its long gold chain over my shoulder I followed him nervously out to the car. He got into the passenger side, again nervously I slid into the driver’s seat and started up.



“Bethany, calm down. Look, sorry, is this really a good idea? I could go later …”



I reversed carefully out onto the road, pausing very briefly both to relax myself and to look across at my passenger. “Mike, I wasn’t sure but, like you said, I may never get another chance.”



I slowly drove off, revelling in the twin experiences of looking down at my legs, in the short skirt, exposing lots of thigh, and of actually driving a car in high heels, something I had wondered about bit had obviously never done. It was easier than I thought, after about a mile I began to enjoy myself. Until I had to pull up at the lights just before library and looked across to see a police car stopped in the other lane.



I shook, Mike must have noticed. He put a hand on my knee.



“Just calm down, take it easy Bethany. Pull away gently in a moment, no speeding, you’ll be all right.”



“Take your fucking hand off my knee Mike, this is hard enough without them thinking you’re groping me. Please.” I had hissed quietly to him, he got the message.



I looked across. The officer in the passenger side saw me – and smiled. I smiled back.



The police car pulled away first, I glided Mike’s car easily in behind it, luckily it turned next left. I didn’t want to have to cope with that at the shopping arcade. I managed to slide into the car park next to Tesco’s. Mike got out.



“OK now. Want to come in with me? Or wait here?”



Again decision time, and again, I did really want to. I didn’t allow myself time to think, just opened the door and got out as delicately as I could manage in that short dress. I followed Mike into the store and just stood beside him while he got the cans he wanted, then walked back with him to put them in the boot.



“Right Bethany. Last thing. How about a coffee? We could go into the Tesco café, I really could do with something like that, black preferably, we never did after that wine at lunch. Last thing, I promise, then home. You up for it?”



“What the hell?” I said, moving across as he closed the car door. “In for a penny ….”



There were not many people around, surprisingly for a Saturday lunchtime, maybe because the Blues were playing Liverpool at home, perhaps lots of people had gone to the match. I decided to make the most of it, I was settling much more, I took Mike’s hand and we walked purposefully towards the supermarket.



I looked around. Two young boys were leaving the store, obviously ahead of parents who were probably still packing the shopping. They didn’t give me a second glance. Another couple walked past, didn’t notice me, maybe too engrossed in each other or in what they were heading to do. A middle-aged man was walking out of the store, concentrating on balancing about three items he’d bought, obviously without a bag. He saw me. And he nearly dropped them!



I squeezed Mike’s hand for reassurance, and managed to get into the café part of the store without mishap, I settled at a table while he went off to get two coffees. I needed black coffee too, not that I was affected by the one glass of wine I’d had, it was just that I needed the calm time to settle down. I’d passed about ten people on the way in, and I’d ‘passed’, excuse the pun. Nobody thought I was any different from what I seemed, a woman, early middle age, out shopping with her husband. Actually, no, no ring on my finger. With her boyfriend then.



Mike brought the coffees and settled opposite me.



“How you doing, Bethany?” he asked quietly. “Did you see that guy nearly drop his shopping, he was looking at your legs, you know. Mind you I don’t blame him. They look fantastic in those stockings. They are stockings aren’t they?”



I looked across at Mike. Maybe the wine did have a slight effect.



“Would you like to see?”



And I crossed my legs, yet again allowing my hem to slide up to reveal just a hint of stocking top.



“Streuth, Bethany, watch it. You never know….”



We both tried hard not to grin, to keep things calm. We finished our drinks and headed back to the car, again holding hands, again with no noticeable comments from any of the other shoppers in the car park.



“I’ll drive now, Bethany, thanks. I’ll take it steady, I’m OK now.”



So he did. I just sat and reflected, on an extremely satisfactory day so far. A day I’d never thought I’d see, me, Bethany, all woman, out and about. I just wished, somehow, we’d managed to take a camera, get some pictures. But no, never thought of that.



When we got back to Mike’s house I deliberately didn’t grab his hand as we went it, just in case of nosy neighbours. In the dining room I noticed the remains of our meal, never properly cleared away.



“Better see to those, darling, there’s two of everything – and lipstick on my glass. Wouldn’t do for that to be found, would it?”



Then before heading upstairs, I did lean over and plant one big kiss on his cheek!



“There you are, Mike, my darling. With love, from Bethany. Thanks!”



I giggled at the look of surprise on Mike’s face, then tripped upstairs and stripped, cleaned up with the make-up remover I’d brought with me, showered and dressed while Mike started putting clothes back where they had come from. I followed him round and checked, making sure as best I could that Mari wouldn’t notice anything.



As I walked back down and across the road to my own house I wondered just what the people I’d seen had thought. The policeman, the guy juggling the shopping, maybe some of the people in the café. Had they thought ‘I think that’s a man dressed up’, or maybe even ‘she looks nice’. Nice thought, that one. I hid away in the loft the things I’d used, the items and the make-up and so on, also some things Mike had given me, for me to hide in my secure loft hidey-hole rather than risk them any longer in his house. The basque, the wig, and so on.



I came down the loft ladder, shut it away, and sighed. What a day!



And that was really the end of it. I didn’t feel the urge in quite the same way to keep on trying Marianne’s clothes, Mike did mention once to me at the end of the following week that we might like to try it again but he really didn’t seem so keen. And I wasn’t either, it seemed we had both cooled off somewhat after the hiatus of that day.



Until the night of the dinner party, that is. We always joined them for an evening usually just before Christmas, about the 10th or 11th of December, sometimes with another couple, Mari was a very good hostess. A few nights before, as we were chatting about it, Carol told me that apparently Mike had gone with Mari to a rather exotic ’boutique’ in town, you, an old fashioned name I know but it did call itself a boutique. And that he’d bought her a rather risqué dress for the party. I wondered why Carol had told me, then I realised.



“OK, so do you want a new dress too? We’d better be quick though, only a couple of days.”



I knew Carol had got something when, the next evening after shopping she dashed straight upstairs when she came in. I knew better than to go looking, we both liked surprises. When I saw the dress, as we were changing for the evening, I was thrilled. Carol has always had a fine figure though obviously her everyday casual clothes don’t always show it. And when she and Mari went off together for a show or a conference too often they wore their ‘baggies’ – loose tops and jeans maybe. Fine for everyday but not really the right thing to satisfy a tranny. Not that she realised of course.



“WHERE did you get that?” I exclaimed when I saw the dress.



“Well, I was going to go to the same boutique as Mari but on my way I passed that exotic clothing shop near the town centre, you know, in the new precinct. I just went in there to look – they’ve lots of really kinky stuff in there but – well – I thought you might like this.”



“LIKE it? I love it. Tell you what Carol, let’s miss on the party, just stop in and fuck all night. I will if you will!”



The dress WAS true tranny fodder. Bright black pvc, and oh so tight, my cock reacted immediately. Carol didn’t look like a tranny, she never could, all woman my Carol. But she was most definitely dressed like one, plunging skimpy black pvc dress, very short skirt, black stockings, I knew they were stockings, and black high heels too. The accessories were gold and black, matching, almost as if she knew that was exactly what any TV would like to wear, certainly I’d have loved to. Just for a moment I had my doubts – surely she couldn’t know?



“BEN! Wash your mouth out. Now come on, let’s go, here, let me help you with your bow tie. You men are useless, can’t even get dressed yourself!”



Surely she couldn’t know.



The party was a huge success. Mari’s friend Gabrielle was there too, with her husband Keith, all six of us were in a way dressed to the nines, in true seasonal fashion. And Mari’s own dress was gorgeous too, a deep raspberry red, again low cut to show her very impressive breasts, with an even higher hem than Carol’s, the two of them looked so sexy, as did Gabrielle I must admit. Basically all 3 of us men, in black dinner suits and bow ties, though very smart we must have looked drab by comparison with the girls.



But it was late in the evening, just before midnight as we were all getting our coats to leave, when I realised. Mike had got me my coat and handed it to me, it was pretty cold late in the evening that night. Mari gave Carol hers, and I caught Mike’s eye. He looked at his wife. Then at me. Then at Marianne again, more at her dress than at Mari herself. Then he smiled at me. And I knew. I realised! OK, so he’d helped Mari choose the dress for the party, but he’d had an ulterior motive. I could see, just by the look in his eyes. He wanted me to wear it!



I’d really have preferred to wear Carol’s but I knew there was absolutely no way that would fit me. Then, slightly shocked, I realised I was to an extent back in TV mode. Thinking again about wearing women’s clothes, for a week or two it hadn’t occurred to me. Actually, that’s not true. I’d thought about my experiences, specially about going out, Mike and I had chatted a bit about what had happened. But neither of us had mentioned doing it again. The look on Mike’s face, and my own reaction, both surprised me.



Anyway, Christmas got in the way. And apart from that the girls had put their business stuff to one side for a few weeks, just keeping it ticking over, no special meetings or anything. And no nights away or evening meetings. So no chances to ‘dress’.



Christmas day was ordinary, as much as any Christmas day is. Mike and Mari had her parents to stay for Christmas eve and for lunch, then went over to his later. Carol and I were on our own most of the day but went out for a walk after lunch. Carol was a bit quiet, thinking about something. She didn’t say anything when I asked her, I just assumed it was some sort of business worry maybe. We all got each other a variety of presents but Mike’s present for Mari did surprise us all a little. Except me, maybe.



He’d bought her jewellery before, I remembered a pearl drop necklace maybe six years ago, but this was different. He’d bought her a diamante choker, several strands of encrusted silver with really big matching pendant earrings.



It was just after he’d given them, when we were briefly on our own, he muttered quietly to me.



“Very clever Ben, I got some little attachments, so they can be clipped on.”



I understood exactly what he meant but didn’t have the chance to argue.



“But Mike, look, I mean, that time a few…. “



“OK boys, what are you up to?” Carol had interrupted us in the kitchen, I never got the chance to make my point.



And I was getting confused, I had begun to think about dressing up again but I wasn’t at all sure if and when I’d get the chance with earrings like that.



Carol and I stopped up a bit on that Christmas evening, for once there was a decent film on TV. On Boxing day I woke at about 9. Carol was up already. Then I heard a car go down the road, revving up rather fast. I knew it was Mari, she always had a bit of difficulty coping with the revs on the slight incline up the road even after several years of it. I got up and dressed, and called out to Carol as I came down the stairs. There was no reply. In the kitchen the coffee-maker was ready, I poured a cup and was about to go hunting for my wife, when I saw the note on the kitchen table. I sat down and read it. Twice. Three times.



4 The BIG surprise



‘Dearest Ben. I’m so sorry to do this to you at this time but we’ve decided it is for the best. Mari and I are taking a couple of weeks away together, to sort out our feelings for each other. This was really decided when we were up in Newcastle a few weeks ago and ended up in bed together. I know this must be something of a shock ….”



Shit, what an understatement. The note went on to tell me not to try to find them, they may be in touch by phone, they really did want two or three weeks together to decide where they wanted to go, in personal terms rather than just business. I did think, even at that moment, of a couple of times I’d interrupted Mari and Carol together over the previous week or two, when I’d had a feeling something had been going on. I’d assumed it was related to the business or maybe they were discussing Christmas, secret presents or something. But this? Never thought of it. Not Marianne and Carol, not some sort of lesbian relationship, it just hadn’t occurred to me.

Mike burst in. He looked – annoyed, surprised, puzzled. Well, so did I, not really unexpected in the circumstances. Mari hadn’t said anything, just gone out to the car and drove off, obviously Carol had been waiting for her. Mike had a piece of paper in his hand, I read it in silence while he read mine. They both said pretty much the same thing really. Hell of a thing to find the day after Christmas.



We sat at the kitchen table, both had a scotch but we both realised drink wasn’t really the answer here, that wouldn’t solve anything. We just tried to analyse a bit what had happened, we’d both seen odd-ish behaviour in the past few weeks from our wives but again we had both put it down to maybe pressure of work, or Christmas, or something like that.



After Mike went home I had a quick look through some things in the bedroom and round the house. Carol had taken some of her clothes and personal items and a few other things. Including the lingerie Mari had bought her for Christmas, in retrospect that did seem a bit odd but if they really had ‘slept together’, OK if they’d had sex together maybe it wasn’t totally surprising.



After a very difficult day we did decide to go down to the local pub in the evening but as soon as we went in almost, half-way through the first pint, a mutual friend Kathy and her husband came in and looked over towards us. She muttered to her husband, I couldn’t remember his name, but it was obvious. Somebody, Carol or Marianne, had said something – they knew. We drank up and left, both feeling very sorry for ourselves.



Luckily, in a way, we both had to go back to work the next day, neither of us had any sort of extended Christmas-into-New-Year break then as sometimes happens. At least that occupied our minds, we were both glad of that at least. But again we were not feeling great. We needed something to shake us up. The next evening Mike did come round again, and we did hit the bottle a bit, cleared me out of scotch. I knew we couldn’t go on like this.



“At least we don’t have to worry about that party at the ‘Bell’ on New Year’s Eve, Ben. Nearly everyone will know, I couldn’t face that, could you?”



“Pity really, mate, I’d have liked to have gone. But yes, you’re right.”



I didn’t want all the sympathy and sideways glances we’d get.



‘Poor Ben, wife has left him, you know. And for another woman! Wonder what that really means’ and so on.



But the next day before setting off to work, trying to pull myself together, I had an idea. A daft idea but…. I called in at Mike’s house on my way, just stopped the car briefly outside, he’d left already. Just went up to the bedroom and looked round in there myself. A bit of an imposition really, yet I felt it maybe could be justified. Yes. It could work but I only had a couple of days.



That evening I called in, on my way home, at my opticians. With a slightly strange request but one he would be able to fulfil, in a couple of days. Then I went to visit a shop I’d been in once before, a few weeks earlier when I’d been looking for shoes which would fit, before I’d found out about the factory shop that is. ‘Transform’ does what it says, transforms. Men into women, it’s a TV shop, for transvestites, for dressing up and selling clothes and accessories and so on. I knew what I wanted from there, OK so they weren’t cheap, not cheap at all. But I was able to find what I wanted. I resisted the temptation to try them on, to practice that evening.



And the next night, again after work, I visited the shop Carol had told me about in the new town centre. There had been some local opposition to its’ opening but the shop’s success bore witness to the need for something like that. OK, Carol had bought her amazingly sexy dress there, it was still in the wardrobe at home. I’d started to try it on but given up, I had no chance there. But the shop didn’t just do dresses, at the back of the store were all sorts of sex objects, dildos, toys, sex aids, all things like that. But exotic clothing too, some of it designed for men. TVs, that is. I was just a bit nervous about going in there but I really was determined. I had to make the whole thing work, all or nothing. I knew that the next 24 hours or so would decide.



“Can I help you, sir?”



It was a youngish woman, and not what I wanted. In that situation the best I could expect was an older, matronly woman, one who had some experience and would understand.



“Shoes. I was just looking for shoes.”



“Err – are they for you, sir?”



I was a little perplexed, she had ‘spotted’ me straight away. Young and inexperienced she may have been but she certainly knew what she was about.



“ER – yes.”



There. Admitted it. I’d actually told another person, a young girl indeed, that I wanted a pair of women’s shoes, for me. She took it in her stride, asked me about sizes, colour, styles.



“High heels, court shoes, red.”



She was good, led my quickly to an area round a corner at the back of the shop.



“Sometimes men are a little nervous about this sort of thing. Now, how about these?”



She showed me two or three pairs, all red but all a bright red, scarlet really, I suppose they would do but I wasn’t sure. The assistant realised this.



“Well we do have a few others, more dressy if you see what I mean, quite a bit more expensive though.”



She did pull out another couple of boxes, and the second pair looked to be just what I wanted, OK they were red but more matt rather than very glossy. And indeed dressy, very high heels, must have been nearly 6 inch heels with very thin chrome spike heels. Really a very glamorous pair of shoes as such things go.



“They are lovely, sir. But, sir, they are not cheap. £129,99, sir.”



I gulped. But I knew, I had to have them.



“Will there be anything else, sir?”



Indeed there would, I had a mental list of several things, but when I mentioned some of the other items I wanted the assistant looked a little concerned.



“I think, sir, excuse me a moment.” She went back round the corner, re-appearing a few moments later with an alder assistant in tow. “This is Monica, sir, she may be able to help you better, sir. More experience of these things you know.”



That second assistant did indeed know her job, I ended up leaving the shop quite a time later with several items. I’m not really sure why that first young lady, Georgina it had said on her name badge, why she had baulked at continuing to serve me. There really wasn’t anything naughty in what I wanted. The only problem I had with Monica was an argument over stockings. She seemed to think I should have quite thick ones but I wanted sheer seamed stockings. I was determined about that.



“But sir, I think you’ll find these OK, they’ll hide and leg hair, very good at that sir.”



But the sheer stockings I did get. £12.99 just for stockings but well worth it. I did have one brief practice that night, then a long hot soak in the bath, and after that slept really well for the first time in about a week. The next day – a Friday – I rang Mike at lunchtime.



“How you doing mate?”



“Not too bad, apart from one or two comments and so on. You?”



“OK really Mike. Same sort of thing. But I’ve come up with an idea. How about we go to that party tonight anyway? At the ‘Bell’, it is. I could meet you there, at nine, how about it?”



“You can’t be serious, Ben. I’d like to go in some ways but, really, well, you know…. “



“I know. But if I said it would be OK, would you then? Trust me, Mike. We’re gonna blow their minds, all the pseudo-sympathetic hypocrites from the Rugby Club, it’s them you’re worried about isn’t it? Give them something to really think about. I promise. Do you trust me really, Mike?”



“Sure I do Ben. If you say so? What you got in mind? Bring along a couple of really classy tarts? That would do it, is that what you’ve done?”



We had discussed finding a couple of ‘girlfriends’ to distract attention from our situation a few days earlier. That’s what gave me the idea. Not that we’d been serious about it.



“OK Mike. Be there at nine. On the dot. Really smart, DJ and all. Let’s do it. Got to go now, see you there.”



I had to ring off, not to get back to work but because I’d arranged to have the afternoon off. I had things to prepare. I called in at Mike’s house on the way to leave one item and to collect a few things.



The previous night I’d done something I’d not tried before, a complete ‘depilation’ of my body, except my head of course and between my legs. But chest, legs, arms, I’d used a heavy duty depilation cream, it had worked really well. Nobody at work had noticed that Friday morning, I wouldn’t have cared if they did. It felt cold, not having that layer of hairy insulation under my suit, but work was heated anyway, I managed well enough.



That Friday lunchtime, well, it was about half past three by the time I had everything sorted on the bed and ready. Another shower, this time with a slightly flower-scented shower gel. Facial shave. Twice. Then I pulled on and up tight the ‘thong’ I’d got at the TV shop in town, one of those specially made for TVs, cut a little larger at the front to accommodate – what it had to accommodate. Red, of course. Then – everything else.



I’d bought the breast-forms at the TV shop too, they were expensive too, well over the cost of the shoes but good quality. Silicones, they were called, a very realistic textured surface, weighted just right I thought and a colour very close to that of my own skin. I lay on the bed for several minutes while the spray glue set, then stood up and felt for the first time something like what it would be like to have boobs. I needed the basque, the weight felt forward but the cups of the bra did exactly as needed, pushing the ‘boobs’ up and together. I saw the cleavage in the mirror. Wow!



It felt really gorgeous sliding on the sheer black seamed stockings, I checked on the clock as I sat at the dressing table doing my makeup, the practice earlier in the week paid off. I transformed myself, from guy, to woman – to slut. Sexy slut, that was what I was aiming for. To annoy the bitchy women who would have made comments about Caro and Mari being lesbians, with the implications that Mike and I weren’t really man enough and couldn’t perform. And just to make the guys jealous, of the sexy long-legged and provocative tart Mike had landed himself.



Really everything went smoothly – until the very end when I had to put on the wig. I’d bought another one, yet more expense, but this one was something else. Blonde again, yes, but much more luxurious than the other one I’d worn. Not BIG hair, but biggish, curly and slightly more than shoulder length, I had difficulty with the tiny clips which held it in place just behind my ears, similar to those on the other wig so I should have been used to them. Unfortunately I’d already stuck on the long raspberry-red finger nails, with superglue!



I managed the wig. Then I stepped into the dress. The glistening red dress Mari had worn, the one Mike had bought with ‘Bethany’ in mind. Sliding it up, easing first my arms into place, then my boobs. Lastly the lipstick and shoes, both matching the dress or at least nearly. I stood up in my first pair of 6″ stiletto shoes. I breathed in for a few minutes as I inspected myself in the mirror. The dress looked gorgeous, very figure-hugging, a very arousing plunge neckline between my bulging ‘boobs, very dark and deep, I know Mari had worn it well but I had done a good job on ‘Bethany’. I was sure I could cause at least some arousal if I dared go ahead with what I’d planned. Decision time yet again. Could I go through with this? Hell, yes. Of course I could. There were butterflies in my stomach, my hands were shaking a little, my mouth was dry, I needed to settle.



I carefully made my way into the kitchen, pulling the curtains in there before switching the light on. Right now was NOT a time for visitors, I just hoped no-one would be taking pity on me being on my own that evening. I could do without that at that moment. I poured myself a small gin-and-tonic and sat in the lounge. I was grateful for the advice of the woman in the TV shop, the tight thong kept things under control. I looked in the mirror again. Twenty minutes left, it had taken me over five hours to prepare myself for this.



I poured another gin, another small one and checked through the contents of my handbag. Mari’s actually, the same glittery red colour as the dress with silver-coloured clasp and chain, again to ‘go with’ the silver on the thick diamante choker and my long pendant earrings, and my rings, five of them in total, all silver-coloured with various clear and reddish stones. Diamonds and sapphires, at least that was what they looked like. I stood up and slipped on Marianne’s mock fur coat, white, almost knee length. Ready!



The doorbell rang. I went down the hall in trepidation and paused by the front door.



“Hello?” I called, not too loudly.



I didn’t want to lose the feminine tone of voice. I’d been practicing that too, evenings, for several days.



“Taxi.”



Thank goodness. I opened the door and stepped out. The coat hid the excessive aspects of my attire, although from the tarty makeup and the ultra-high heels it was obvious I was in some way party-bound. I followed the driver down the drive. I really didn’t care if any of the neighbours saw me. They might wonder exactly what was going on but in no way would I be recognised, not dressed as I was.



I had been worried about getting to the pub too early but we had a bit of a hold-up at the same Stratford roundabout I’d passed a few weeks earlier, on my previous ‘Bethany-outing’. We pulled up outside the Bell at about two minutes to nine. I handed a note to the driver which included a tip slightly more than he might have expected, and asked him to wait for just a minute or two. I saw a couple of other cars pull in, then Mike’s. Peering out of the taxi window I watched him as he moved out of the shadow into the brighter light near the pub side entrance, the one for the private rooms, where the party was being held.



He paused a moment there, looking round. When he didn’t see ‘Ben’ or anyone else he recognised he opened the door and went in. I smiled a thank-you at the taxi driver, and walked quickly across to the same door. Or as quickly as I could, in such high heels and with such a tight dress on. I opened it, breathed deeply once more, and walked into the lobby.



5 Surprise party



Mike was with a couple he obviously knew, most of the people there were going to be from his work or from the Rugby club. They were all three passing their coats to the girl from the pub who had obviously been deputed to deal with them. The guy had an arm on Mike’s. It seemed so obvious. Even at that stage of the evening he was oozing regret and pity, maybe muttering to Mike that ‘I’ve heard about Marianne, I’m SO sorry ….’ Exactly why we had intended NOT to be there.



I strolled, steadily and surprisingly confidently, across the lobby. All three began to turn. I noticed Mike was wearing the new ‘dress’ shirt I’d bought for him, the one I’d left on the bed, rather frilly and not the sort of thing to wear if you didn’t want to bring attention to yourself. Like my dress, really.



“Hello, darling, sorry I’m a bit late”



I kissed Mike on the cheek and moved my left hand round his waist, sliding in over his bum so that the other couple, whoever they were, couldn’t help but notice. This was the REAL start to the campaign, to Mike and I having SUCH fun that absolutely nobody could feel sorry, not for a guy with a glitzy big-breasted blonde hanging onto his arm.



All credit to him, this wasn’t what Mike had expected, he reacted very well. The initial puzzled look hardly lasted half a second, it turned into a smile, then he properly reacted.



“Hi Bethany.”



Good man!



I moved back a little as four or five other people, two couples I think and one guy on his own, came into the lobby. Great, an audience. I slipped off the coat and handed it to Mike, revealing all my glory. The reactions were wonderful, which is exactly how I felt at that moment. Most of the others there looked in my direction, I could feel the eyes on my bulging breasts and on my legs, on the shoes, on the rather exotic makeup, I was making exactly the impression I’d hoped for. I positively glowed.



Mike, on the other hand, was a little taken aback. He hesitated and began to mutter, I spoke up.



“Shall we go in, darling? I need a drink.”



We went in, me holding firmly onto Mike’s arm. For both reasons, we were the obvious centre of attention. Because they hadn’t been expecting Mike at all, and because of who he was with. Not Marianne, obviously, but if she’d only been gone a few days where had he found this leggy blonde?



Mike got us drinks and pulled me to one side.



“Christ Ben, I never expected …….” he muttered quietly in my ear.



“Hush, darling.” I put one red-taloned finger onto Mike’s lips, then kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I’m NOT Ben tonight. OK? DON’T call me anything else except Bethany or maybe darling or honey until after we’ve got home. Work with me, Mike my love, this WILL work.”



And I kissed him, not on the cheek this time but on the lips. Briefly, just a half-second contact, then I pulled away and smiled widely at him, again sliding a hand round and this time blatantly grasping his arse.



“So tell me, I’m a very vain girl, what do you think?”



Mike looked. He had to smile too, really he had to.



“Bethany. You look fucking gorgeous. I knew you’d look good in that dress but I never thought you would be such a babe. Nice hair, I like it, but those tits, and the shoes, Christ Bethany, you’re just sex on legs. Damn near every cock in the room has reacted since you came in. Look, I wish you’d told me, maybe you’ve gone too far”



“Too far? No way my darling. We are going to have fun tonight. Big fun. Don’t worry, my love. Certainly I’m going to enjoy myself, this is SO great, Mike. I LOVE it. Getting ready was a mindboggling experience but this is even better. OK, follow me.”



I led my ‘boyfriend’ by the hand towards the bar and lifted myself onto a bar stool, crossing my legs and just feeling so hot, hot in THAT sense that it. I knew there were lots of people in there, men and probably women, looking at my long stocking-clad legs, at my ultra-high heels, it was such an experience. I finished my gin-and-tonic quickly, handing the glass to Mike.



“Yes please, Mike darling. Another. I’m gonna drink too much tonight and flirt with you damn near all the time. By the time I’ve finished absolutely nobody will be feeling sorry for you, certainly not the guys, they’ll all be jealous as hell. They’ll all want to be in your place tonight, fucking your gorgeous tart.”



“Hi there Mike, are you going to introduce us?”



We both looked round, it was a man and his wife who I learnt were John and Janet, both friends from the Rugby club. We chatted for a few minutes, nearly all the time I held Mike’s hand in mine, just occasionally releasing it to caress his bum. Then John led Mike off to meet someone about the accounts, I was left with Janet for a moment.



“You must come down to the club one day, Bethany, we have a meeting of wives and girlfriends every Thursday evening, lots of fun.”



I was a bit nonplussed, I hadn’t really been expecting an invitation to the WI or Ladies Circle or anything like that. I just smiled and said it sounded like a good idea and left it at that. As Janet left two other guys, both workmates of Mike’s it turned out, both shot in to sit next to me. I let one of them get me another gin and just enjoyed their attentions. Despite the fact that I’d come with Mike and made my feelings pretty obvious, I think they were both trying to chat me up.



Mike came back and rescued me, and we circulated for an hour or so, spending quite some time sitting together alone, chatting quietly. If only the others had known what we were talking about! I urged Mike to caress my thigh, and kept touching him, and on the one occasion we got up to dance to a very slow number the groping began to get somewhere close to indecent.

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