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THE BIRTHDAY By Rosemary I suppose that I had always expected it to happen sooner or later. It was a high risk game, and I had got careless. Some psychologists would argue that I sub-consciously always wanted to be caught but I don't know about that. Anyway, after four year's of avoiding detection, I had made a mistake. The funny thing about it was that I was not aware of my detection for two weeks. I went on as normal in total ignorance of the sword hanging over my head. When the reckoning came, it was a complete surprise. Like most of us, my cross dressing had started early in puberty, with little experiments with my mother's clothes when she was out. Firstly lingerie, then skirts and dresses, and when the occasion allowed it, full makeup. My particular fetish is plastic rainwear, and I loved going into the nearby city to roam around the department stores fingering the raincoats, and occasionally stealing the belts or loose hoods from the pockets. My aunt had a plastic cape, which gave me opportunities to dress when I stayed with her. On one memorable weekend with parents away visiting grandparents, I bought myself a pretty pink raincoat using a lame excuse that it was a birthday present for my sister, and went for a walk in full dress and makeup after dark around the shops in our town, wearing my pink raincoat with matching hood over all. I can still feel the lovely smooth coldness of the plastic on my bare arms and shoulders as I walked through the fine drizzle. I spent the rest of the weekend in bra, panties stockings and heels with my raincoat over them, even round the house. University had followed, giving little opportunity to dress, although the landlady of the lodgings I had also had a plastic mac, which I'borrowed' when I was left in the house alone. I managed to dress in full drag a couple of times during vacation time, usually while driving my car in the countryside. When I graduated, for a year I was employed in a big city, and the excitement of the new job and life together with new friends pushed my cross-dressing into the background. After a number of girlfriends, I finally met the one for me; Jennifer was all woman, and worked as an accounts manager at one of our big clients. We dated regularly, and soon we went through the usual ritual of sharing a bed, meeting parents, and eventually getting married. Jennifer had inherited a reasonable sum from her grandmother, and with my meagre savings we bought a little house in the leafy suburbs outside the city where we both worked. Life was good, and our sex life was brilliant. In the late seventies, a new fashion item was introduced which helped my undoing. Suddenly on rainy days, there were pretty transparent plastic raincoats everywhere, with attached hoods with drawstrings. Every shop had them for sale, and soon my fetish was aroused. I would find that I would manage to stand next to a pretty woman wearing a plastic mac, and my hand would surreptitiously stroke the thin plastic. During my lunch hour, I would wander around the shops in search of rainwear. My greatest coup came on a weekend visit to the seaside, when we were caught in a heavy downpour, and I persuaded Jennifer to get herself a lovely pale blue raincoat with large hood, buttoned cuffs, belt and deep pockets. She wore it all afternoon, and when we finally got to our hotel room, I'ravaged' her before she had a chance to get the coat off. My work meant that I visited many clients, and I usually left the home and returned at different times to Jennifer, whose hours were far more regular than mine. The raincoat hanging in the hall was too much temptation, and soon I was stripping off and slipping it on in the times when I was home alone. One thing led to another, and I graduated to Jennifer's undies, skirts, blouses, and make-up, but usually with the raincoat on top. I was very careful to make sure that everything went back just as I had found it, or so I thought. My first mistake came on one of Jennifer's birthday. I had decided on a big surprise for her. I knew that she had a hang- up about flying, and so I booked a private lesson for her at the nearby aero club. In my stupid male logic I figured that if she took control of a plane, she would feel less scared than as a passenger. On the morning of her birthday, I greeted her with a card and flowers, and told her that I had a secret present for her, but that she was to not argue with me at any point as she would love it in the end. After breakfast, I drove her to the club, and introduced her to the instructor. She pleaded with me to let her off, but I insisted, saying that she would enjoy it eventually. She finally climbed into the little plane, and they took off. The lesson was for an hour, and when she returned, she gave me a big hug and said that I had been right, and facing her fear had allowed her to conquer it. Once she was flying the plane herself, she was too busy to be scared, and had really enjoyed it. My second big mistake came a fortnight later on a rainy spring day when I was working in a part of the city new to me. As usual at lunch-time, I headed for the shops, and found a cheap clothing shop with a range of men's and women's garments. There amongst a row of nylon raincoats was the most feminine mac I had ever seen. It was a cape, in pink translucent plastic, with a large hood, button front, and two slits for the arms. Inside the slits were square patch pockets, and the hem of the cape had a half inch strip of shiny solid pink all round it, matching the pink buttons. Instead of a top button, there were two plastic ribbons at the collar to tie the hood tight under the chin. There were others of the same style, in yellow, blue and green, but the pink was my favourite. It was outrageously girly, something that Jennifer would hate. There was only one coat in pink, and fortunately it was big enough for me. With shaking hands, I took it to the girl at the counter, and asked if I could try it for size, as my wife was much my height and build. With a look which I'm sure spoke of her disbelief, she pointed me to the mirror, and I draped the heavenly cape around my shoulders. Of course it fitted, but I still allowed myself the pleasure of buttoning it up with fumbling fingers. It was full and long, down to mid calf. I reluctantly took it off, and handed it to the assistant, who by now had a knowing smile on her lips. With shaking hands I paid the small price, and fled from the shop. I found some excuse to leave work early, and drove as fast as I could back home. I had an hour before Jennifer returned, and so rushed up to the bathroom to search the washing basket for Jennifer's clothes of yesterday. But my fate was sealed, as she had emptied the basket into the washing machine before going to work, and so I raided her drawers for underwear. Soon I was changing into knickers, bra, tights, mini skirt, short sleeved blouse and heels. I applied some deep red lipstick, and brushed out my longish hair. Without looking in the mirror, I pulled the lovely cape around me, pulled up the hood over my hair, and buttoned it up the front. I then turned to the mirror, and was thrilled to see how pretty I looked. I twirled on my heels, and watched the full hem of the coat swirl around me. I was not completely stupid. I realised that my time was limited, and in good time, I undressed and put away her skirt and blouse in her wardrobe. But then I realised that the clean panties were soiled, and the tights were all baggy from my wear. I thought that she wouldn't notice if I put them in the wash with the other clothes later in the week, so I hid them with the cape at the back of my desk drawer. I was almost finished when I heard her car drawing up, so with a quick check around the bedroom, and a hard wipe of my lips with a tissue, I ran back to my study and sat in front of some work papers. Maybe when she came in, I tried too hard to appear relaxed. Perhaps I had not got all the lipstick off. Anyway, she seemed surprised to see me home so early, but otherwise quite unsuspecting. The rest of the evening was uneventful apart from tremendous sex that night. During the following week, I volunteered to empty the washing basket into the washing machine one morning, giving me a chance to slip the panties and tights in. It may have been the first time I had emptied the basket myself, a suspicious move on my part. Nothing was said, however. I was a bit worried that night when Jennifer sorted the washing for ironing, but again nothing happened. I didn't get a chance to wear my cape again for the next two weeks. I kept it hidden in my drawer, a perfectly safe place as Jennifer never looked in my desk, as it only contained my boring office work. The next month was my birthday, and Jennifer suggested that we have a long weekend away. As we both liked the seaside, she booked at the same hotel where we had enjoyed such fantastic sex the day she bought her blue mac. I was working away from home the week before, and so Jennifer suggested that we meet at the hotel, as it was closer to my work than home, and she said that if I wanted to pack a grip bag for the weekend, she would bring it down in her car. We met at the hotel on Thursday evening; I was wearing my dark grey suit with a white shirt and dark blue tie, and I had a bag with my washing gear and dirty washing. We were both tired, and after a quick meal, retired to bed. Jennifer was up earlier than me next morning, scurrying around (I assumed )getting my card and present ready. When I finally pretended to wake, she greeted me with a passionate kiss, a card, and a pair of gold cufflinks. "I've also got a little surprise treat for you for your birthday, but you must accept my commands just like with my flying lesson." How could I argue with the same terms I had imposed on her birthday? She had great taste, and so I was confident that I would have a great time. With no reluctance, I agreed to her terms. I finally got up and wanted to change into my casual clothes, but Jennifer then admitted that she had completely forgotten to put my bag in her car. "Never mind, you could do with some newer, more trendy gear for the summer; we'll go into town and get you new clothes. Put your suit on for the time being," she shouted from the bathroom. I hate having to wear a suit at the weekends, but as I had little choice, I put it on over a white shirt with a tie, and so we went down to breakfast with me looking like a city gent. As we sat over coffee looking out on the teeming rain, we made plans for the weekend, starting with a trip to the big department store in the centre of the town for my new clothes. Jennifer said that she would just go and get her coat and handbag, and we would get off to an early start. My heart leaped with the possibility that she would have brought her blue plastic mac, and I was not disappointed. I met her in the foyer, she a plastic picture in blue with her large shopping bag. She had also put on her knee length black boots that also turned me on. As we walked out of the front door of the hotel, the rain had eased a bit, but was still a heavy drizzle. I turned towards my car, assuming that we would drive, but Jennifer said "No, love, we are walking today." This in a more forceful voice than I was used to! "But I'll get soaked, I haven't got my raincoat or umbrella here." "Thank goodness I remembered to pack it for you" she said, and from her bag she pulled out my pink cape! At times like this, writers always say that the mouth falls open. I don't know whether mine did, but I do remember feeling as if I had been hit by a truck. My face must have gone the same colour as the cape, and I burbled and stammered something. "This is yours, isn't it? I found it in your study. Come on, love, put it on, you're getting wet." With that, she draped the cape round my shoulders, and before I could react, she had buttoned it up the front. "Let's put your hood up, we don't want your pretty curls getting wet" all this wicked smile on her lips, as she tied the ribbons at the collar in a big bow under my chin.. By now, I had regained some control over myself, and I said "I'm not walking through town in this!" "But darling, you wear much prettier things when you are at home on your own, so don't be shy". I tried to turn to go back into the hotel, but she pulled me to a stop. "Look, you promised me not an hour ago that you would do what I asked all day. You're not going back on that now." I tried to argue but it was no good. "I have the hotel room key, your car key, and your wallet. You cannot get back into the room without causing a big fuss, and you cannot leave until I let you. Now, just behave, and you'll enjoy the day. After all, you're only doing what you really want to. By the way, I love the pretty cape on you, the colour suits you." With that she grabbed my hand, and forcefully walked off through the rain towards the shops. "Why are you doing this?" I protested. "Because I love you, and want to give you a birthday present you'll remember for a long time" she laughed. "Oh you had better have this, as it has some change and other things you will need in it." She opened her big shopping basket, and handed me a little pink shiny handbag, in a similar shade to my cape. It had a thin strap to put over my shoulder, but I had to carry it in my hand while I was wearing the cape. I kept my eyes down on the pavement as we walked, but Jennifer kept pointing out sights to me so that when I looked I could see that I was getting very strange looks from other pedestrians. Imagine how I looked to them; a man in a formal business suit, carrying a shiny pink handbag, and wearing a pretty pink plastic cape. I was sure that I looked a real sissy. How wrong I was! I tried to ask Jennifer what she was going to do, but she would answer that we were doing what we had agreed, get some new casual clothes for me. When we got into the department store, I wanted to take the cape off, but Jennifer insisted that as it was so pretty I should keep it on. She marched me to the escalators, and we were soon in the lingerie department. I was taken around racks of bras, slips, teddies, suspender belts, and Jennifer made a point of asking me loudly which I liked. The floor was not too busy at that time of the morning, and we soon attracted the attention of a young assistant, who came and asked us if she could help. "Yes, my husband is looking for matching undies in pink. He wants them as feminine as possible, so lots of lace. Preferably in silk or satin. It's his birthday today." The assistant went the same colour as me, but soon entered into the spirit of it. She insisted at first on talking to Jennifer as if I was a small child whose opinion was not important, but Jennifer made sure that it was clear that the lingerie was for me. She asked my opinion of every skimpy item that was shown to us, and I had to feel the softness and comment on the colour and lace trim. I tried to cut this humiliation as short as possible by choosing the first items but Jennifer would have none of it. We must have seen every style the shop had, and eventually she chose (although she made it appear that it was my choice) a flimsy fragile matching set in shiny pink satin and one in peach. All I wanted to do was to pay for them and go, but she insisted that I try everything on and she joined me in the changing room. At least I was allowed to take the cape off, but in no time I was dressed only in bra, panties, suspender belt and slip and had to admire myself in the mirror in the changing room. "Do you need any help with the bra?" Jennifer asked. "No, of course, you have worn mine often enough" However, as I straightened the bra on my chest, she adjusted the shoulder straps to the right length, and when it was sitting right, she took two mastectomy forms from her bag and slipped them inside the cups. "That's improved your figure." I had to try both sets, and decided that I preferred the pink ones. I started to take them all off, but Jennifer said that I should keep them on, and disappeared for a moment, returning with a pair of 15 denier tan nylons that she helped my slide up my legs and fix to the suspender clips. Once back in my shirt and suit, and with the cape loose over my shoulders, she gave me my underpants and socks and the peach set and took me to the counter, where she explained to the assistant that I liked the pink set so much I was going to wear them and could she wrap the peach set and throw away my old socks and pants while I chose some sleep-wear. She then dragged me around the night-gowns and baby doll pyjamas and made me choose, this time a floor length nylon nightie and negligee. Of course, I had to try them on, and then they were delivered to the counter for wrapping, together with three more pairs of stockings, in black and tan. "He doesn't like tights, not as feminine as stockings and suspenders" Jennifer confided in the assistant. "Don't you find them uncomfortable, dear?" the latter asked me, but all I could do is mumble. "Oh, he has only just started wearing them, but he wants to look as pretty as he can for me" Jennifer retorted. At last the lingerie was wrapped, and I hoped that I could now escape from this embarrassment. But Jennifer was far from finished. "Pay the bill, love" she said. "But I've not got any money on me" I protested. "Of course you have, it's in your handbag", and she pointed to the shiny little bag. I opened it to find a little matching pink purse. When I clumsily pulled it out, I spilled two tampons and a lacy little handkerchief on the counter. "It's his time of month, poor dear" Jennifer confided in the assistant, and they both burst into peals of laughter at my expense. I hurriedly returned the tampons and hankie to the bag, and paid the bill with notes from the purse. "Come dear, we've a busy morning " from Jennifer, and with a loud thanks to the assistant, she dragged me off to the lift. "You must learn how to carry that bag" she said, and slipping the cape off me, she hung the bag by its thin pink strap from my shoulder before replacing the cape. We joined others in the lift, and as we descended to the ground floor, Jennifer asked me "Is your bra comfortable enough, dear?" Once out of the lift, she led me to the shoe department. Once again, I was dragged around the various stands, comparing high heeled shoes and boots. She seemed to favour the lighter more feminine ones for me, a pattern which I was finding in her style this day. The shoes she held up for me to choose were invariably strappy, high slender heeled, in pastel or pale colours. She also showed interest in some black patent knee high boots, but commented "These are not pretty enough for you; I'm sure you prefer those long white ones." This time, no assistant came bothering us, and I thought my luck had turned. Wrong again. "Go and find an assistant to help us, darling, or we'll never finish this morning" I protested but to no avail. I was gently threatened with being abandoned as I was without car, money or hotel room, and so reluctantly I went in search of an assistant, still clutching my little pink handbag. When I found a young girl, I asked her to come, and she showed surprise that I led her to the women's shoes. "Oh madam, how can I help?" she asked Jennifer. "It's not for me, it's for my husband, he wants some pretty shoes. He takes size 8, but can probably squeeze into seven and a half". The assistant turned to me. "What style are you looking for, sir?" "Tell her which ones you like, darling" Jennifer insisted. I pointed out a pair of flat heeled sandals, almost unisex in style, but Jennifer would not relent. "Don't be shy, dear, those are far too drab for you. You want something pretty in at least a three inch heel. How about these?" She held up a pair of white sandals with pointed toes, ankle straps, and three inch stiletto heels. "Have you got these in his size that he can try on?" The assistant retreated to the back in embarrassment, and soon returned with a box containing a pair. Jennifer told me to sit on a stool and take off my brogues to reveal my stockinged feet. The assistant knelt and eased the shoes onto my feet, and fastened the strap at the side of each ankle. The toes felt cramped. But as they were backless, they were not too tight. "Walk about in them, see how they feel" encouraged Jennifer. I stood gingerly, and felt my toes being pushed into the thin triangle of white leather of each shoe. I walked up and down, and was told to see how they looked in a long mirror. As soon as I could, I sat down, and said that they were fine. "But you must try others dear, there are lots of styles that will suit you." Once again, I was dragged through a long session of trying different shoes, some far less comfortable and with higher heels. The prettier more fragile they looked, the more Jennifer liked them on me. She was by now in friendly discussion with the assistant about how each pair suited me. Finally, she said that I ought to have a pair of boots, and chose the white pair we had seen before. These were in white patent, with a zip on the inside leg. To put these on, I had to roll up my trouser legs, and Jennifer asked the assistant what she thought of my legs. "Quite shapely, aren't they? Stockings and high heels will show them off well" The boots felt quite different with the instep and leg covered, and all my crossdressing feelings came back. My prancing in front of the mirror did not go unnoticed. "Oh, he obviously loves those, they make him feel really feminine. He must have them." I was allowed to take them off, and they were replaced by a pink pair of the first style I had tried. "Right, dear, are you happy with your choice? I'll buy the boots for you as a present, but they are too hot to wear today, so wear those pretty sandals" she said, as the assistant again fastened the ankle straps, "Leave those on and please wrap his brogues; he wants to get used to wearing heels all day, don't you darling?" With the handbag over one shoulder, the two parcels in the other, the cape over my shoulders, and wearing strappy pink sandals, I followed Jennifer once again to the lift. "Now for the main things" she breezed, and we ascended to the floor where dresses, skirts and blouses were displayed. Once again, I had to choose from a wide range of dresses and skirts, each being held up against me for all the other shoppers to see. It was noticeable that Jennifer's voice seemed louder more penetrative than usual. The word must have got round the store, as there seemed to be plenty of assistants willing to help this big sissy find clothes. I looked at day dresses, summer frocks, suits, mini skirts, blouses of all colours and materials, and of course I had to try them on in the changing room. At every change, an assistant stuck her head around the curtain to ask if everything was all right, but in reality to see me in my underwear. At each try on, I had to come out of the changing room to look at myself in the mirror, being told to spin round on my heels to look at how it sat at the back. We finally settled on a pink gingham summer dress, a pink ra-ra skirt trimmed with white lace, a long sleeved white blouse with masses of lace down the front, and a very pretty see-through blouse in pink. I feared that I would once again be made to wear the dress or the skirt for the rest of the shopping, but Jennifer was more subtle than that. She only made me wear the pink blouse instead of my white shirt. Of course, once it was on, my bra showed clearly through it, and while the thick poplin of the shirt disguised the mounds of the mastectomy forms, the thin diaphanous material of the blouse gave no such cover. Its frilly collar was also very obvious. By now I was numb; enjoying the thrill of wearing such feminine clothes, but mortified by the humiliation of it all. My ordeal wasn't over. Next, we again descended to the ground floor which had a large cosmetic and perfume department. The usual pattern was repeated; I was taken from stand to stand to choose the bewildering array of cosmetics, and to endure having to try different lipsticks, mascaras, eye shadows, etc. By the time we had finished, every assistant had advised me and my little handbag was bulging with make- up items. "Time for a break, love, come and have coffee" With that, we climbed to the top floor where we entered the cafe, and I had to run the gauntlet of looks stares, sniggers, and laughs at my appearance and dress. Before I was allowed to drink my coffee, I had to apply some pink lipstick so that when I drank from the cup I left a pink mark on the rim. "Right, love, nearly finished, three more stops". Back down to the ground floor, where I was subjected to choosing jewellery, a necklace, wrist bangles, and heavy dangly earrings (clip-on, not pierced). Once bought, of course I had to wear them. Now laden with parcels, and with sore feet from the shoes, I was led again to the top floor where there was a salon. With considerable reluctance I was dragged in where an appointment had been made for me (Jennifer must have been very busy the day before while waiting for me to arrive!) I had a heavy blue plastic cape draped back to front over me, sat in a chair, and my hair was rinsed and shampooed. While one girl worked on my hair, another gave me a manicure, and asked me what colour I wanted my nails. She noticed the pink of my lipstick, and said "That's a pretty colour, sir, I'll match that if you like." While this was happening I could feel all sorts of things happening to my hair; it was pulled, teased, rolled and clamped, and finally covered in a hair net, and then put under a large hair-dryer. When my nails were dry and my hair was drying, I was given a women's magazine to read but I could not concentrate with all the morning's events rushing through my mind. Where was it all to end? When the hair stylist returned, she lifted the dryer, and proceeded to remove all the curlers. Then she engaged in frantic work with brushes, combs, and highly scented spray. I could feel little being pulled together all over my head, and after she had finished, it felt quite tight. When she was satisfied, she called Jennifer who looked me over and commented; "You are looking more pretty than I have ever seen you before, darling, quite lovely." She noticed my finger nails, and called the manicurist over. "Could he have his toe nails to match?" "Of course, just slip off your shoes and socks dear" the manicurist cheerfully replied. "Darling, just come with me a minute, we'll have to release your stockings from your suspenders. Miss, do you mind if we use the ladies?" Jennifer asked the receptionist. "Of course not, now that he looks like that, no one would no the difference" she laughed back. I was led into the ladies toilet, but not allowed to look in the mirror. "Its a surprise and a treat for you darling, you can see when you are all prettied up". I was pushed into a stall, and told to undo my suspender clips. I walked back into the salon with the blue plastic cape around my shoulders, and my stockings around my ankles. I sat back in the chair, the back was lowered until I was almost horizontal, and my feet were lifted onto a stool. I could see little but the ceiling, as a smart blonde sat beside me and started to rub cream onto my face. I could feel my toes being manicured and painted as my face was made up with foundation, blusher, mascara, eye liner and shadow lip liner lipstick and many other cosmetics. All the time the blonde explained what she was applying, and kept complimenting me on my pretty face, and how the cosmetics improved it. Finally it was over, and the back of the chair was raised. Jennifer let out a start of surprise, and she quickly led me into the toilet so that I could re-attach the suspenders to my stockings. When we emerged from the toilet, all the staff had gathered, and they gave me a little round of applause. Each came and gave me a little kiss on the cheek, and said how lovely I looked. I was finally led to a mirror where I was amazed to see the pretty face staring back at me. The lips were glossy pink, and the blusher had made my cheek bones seem more prominent. My eyes were quite striking with the dark liner, artificial long lashes and mascara. My hair looked twice as large as usual; hair pieces had been pinned in to give it body, and it was covered with tiny pink ribbons tied in to little bunches. A ringlet hung down in front of each ear. As we made for the door, the receptionist gave me a pink rose corsage, saying "Happy birthday and congratulations, dear. You are quite beautiful." This to a man dressed in a pinstripe dark grey suit, pink diaphanous blouse showing a bra underneath, pink high heeled sandals, full makeup, and a pink plastic cape. "Darling, now for your last and best treat" smiled Jennifer, and led me up the escalator to the second floor. By now, I was almost immune to the looks and comments that accompanied me. This floor contained outerwear, coats and jackets. Jennifer led me straight to the rainwear section, where there was a long rack of plastic raincoats. "Take your pick, my love" she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of my arm. This was almost too much. There were some lovely macs in all colours and styles, and I spent a happy half hour looking at them and trying them on. Finally, I chose a stunning mac in deep bronze, translucent with a large hood and wrist straps. Jennifer found a white translucent mac covered in little pink flowers which she thought would go with my other clothes, but on this I was adamant, so she bought me both! This was the first purchase that I really wanted to wear immediately, but Jennifer insisted that I have them wrapped. She asked the assistant if we could use the changing room for a minute, and when we got inside she made me take off the suit and blouse and put on the gingham dress. She then led me by the hand from the changing room to the nearest full-length mirror and made me pirouette before it. I didn't recognise the lovely girl before me. As I stood admiring myself, Jennifer whispered in my ear. "If you are going to dress, then I insist that you dress properly and in your own clothes. I love you, darling" and she kissed my ear. I wanted to hug her, but she said that we should get on with our weekend, and so we had my suit and blouse wrapped with the new macs. I really wanted to wear the bronze mac, but Jennifer made me put the pink cape back on. "In that your admiring public will be able to see you better," she joked. She leant over and buttoned the cape up at the front, pulled the hood carefully over my lovely hair. The cape looked stunning over the pink gingham dress, and I loved the look of my long legs in their tan stockings and pretty pink shoes. We paid for the macs, thanked the assistant and with my arms full of my new clothes, we made for the exit. My luck had turned, as it was still raining heavily, and so we walked along the sea front hand in hand, two pretty girls together in the rain. We reached a restaurant, and Jennifer pulled me towards the door. "You must be starving, poor love, after such a busy morning's shopping." Once inside, she told the waitress who greeted us that she had booked a table for herself and her husband, and gave our names. We were led to a table in the middle of a crowded room, and the waitress helped us both off with our dripping coats. I was glad to sit and take the weight off my shoes, and Jennifer ordered a glass of white wine for each of us. I felt very vulnerable sitting there with everyone seeing me in full female dress, but Jennifer kept up a chatter about the morning's shopping and the clothes we had bought, just as if we were two girls out on the town. Well almost. She insisted on calling me by my male name, and she talked louder than usual so that those on neighbouring tables could here clearly. Despite the long morning I was too excited to eat much so settled for a green salad. Jennifer had no such inhibitions, and was soon tucked into a steak. I found eating strange with the gloss on my lips, but Jennifer noticed and said not to worry about it, I could soon repair the damage after the meal. After the salad, I was keen to leave and escape to our hotel, but Jennifer called over the waitress and asked her if we could have the special sweet. She ignored my protest that I was full, and chatted on about the morning and about plans for the rest of the day. She told me that my lips needed touching up, and made me get a tube of lipstick, lip gloss and a compact from my handbag. She said that my nose looked a bit shiny, and that I should dust it with powder. After that I had to apply more pink lipstick and a thick coating of gloss. I had just put the cosmetics away in the bag, when I became aware of the door to the kitchen being pushed open, and a procession appearing through it. A waitress led the way carrying a tray with a cake covered with candles and sparklers, and she was followed by four other waitresses. They were all singing'Happy Birthday' - to me! Instead of coming straight to our table, they processed round the outside of the room, singing all the time. The other diners joined in, and accompanied it with clapping to the beat. Finally the cake arrived at my table, and it was placed in front of me. It was covered in pink ice (what else?) decorated with lots of white bows around the edge. It said "MY PRETTY HUSBAND" in white icing across the middle. "Come on, sir, blow out the candles and make a wish" said the lead waitress. "Stand up, dear, so that everyone can see you" said Jennifer. I staggered to my feet, and leaning over, blew all the candles out in one go. Jennifer had taken our camera from her bag, and snapped me as I blew. This was greeted with a huge cheer from everyone, and I slumped back in to my chair, mortified with embarrassment. Jennifer continued to photo me, asking for a big smile or a pout each time. Of course, we had to stay while the cake was cut and pieces were distributed to all the other diners. As they left, they came over and wished me the best for the day, and I got some very strange looks from both the men and women! At last Jennifer relented and called for the bill and our coats. While she paid, the waitress the waitress draped my cape around my shoulders. "You do look very pretty in that cape, sir, it goes so well with all your other clothes, and your hair is beautiful" she confided as she buttoned the front. "It's still raining outside, sir, you'll want the hood up to protect your hair". She pulled the hood over my head carefully, arranging it over the curls, and tied a bow in the ribbons. When Jennifer returned and had been helped into her blue mac, we thanked everyone, and went out into the rain. "First, back to the hotel to leave the shopping, and then let's go to the cinema". When we got back to our room, I slumped on the bed to relieve my feet, and Jennifer swung my legs over onto the cover. She knelt over me, and gently undid the buttons on my cape. Her hand stroked the inside of my thighs, and she lay along side me looking down at my painted face. As her hand worked its way up from my knees, she leant over and gave me little pecking kisses on my cheeks, eyes and ears, while murmuring that I looked lovely and she wanted to seduce me and ravage my lovely body. Her hand reached the tops of my stockings, and she played with the suspender clips. Then she progressed to my panties, by now under considerable strain, and after stroking my member through them, she pulled them downwards, while I arched my back. When she had them down at my knees, she hooked the heel of her boot into them, and pushed them down over my feet. Then she was on top of me, still in her blue plastic mac, and her hand moved to my'breasts' which she stroked frantically. By now she had her mouth open over mine, and her tongue was exploring the inside of my mouth. She arched her bottom up off me, pulled the front of my dress up over my waist, and wriggled her hips down so that she engulfed my member. She had not been wearing panties all morning! I could feel that she also had stockings and suspender belt, the first time I had ever known her abandon tights! Her vigorous pumping increased in strength and pace until we both together exploded in ecstasy! "Happy birthday, Darling!" she shouted! That was the start of a whole new chapter in our life together. Best birthday present I ever had!!