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Imitation Of Wife free porn video
IMITATION OF WIFE
by FARAH DAYE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Carrie, a male nursing student with a talent for female impersonation, is
coerced into helping a teacher out by masquerading as his wife. When she
discovers his deceit and the part she is really playing, will she struggle to
escape his mysterious house? Alternatively, will she willingly succumb to a
life that just might be her wildest fantasy? --FarahD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Imitation of Wife, Part 1
I tried my best to look calm but it wasn't working at all. The hard-eyed man
across the desk from kept staring at me, looking up and down, and boring his
gaze right into me. I looked down at my legs to avoid unnecessary eye
contact. I wore my off-white pantyhose and clunky white nurse's shoes. I
had a thin bracelet just above my left ankle. I played nervously with the
buttons on my cardigan and made little adjustments to my uniform. We
nurses rarely wear dresses for uniforms now. We all wear pants, even the
students. But tonight was special and wearing our white dresses was part of
the tradition. The school administrator droned on. He had me skewered and
he was savoring it.
I knew that I might be caught and that what I had done was reckless. But it
was irresistible! Two of the other nursing students and I planned it for two
weeks. When the time came for our prank, it was perfect. Nobody in the
audience realized what we had done. Nursing schools have their honored
traditions and this night had been the night that one of those traditions was
enacted. It was capping night. All the women students, and that is nearly the
entire student body, walked onto the stage, one by one, to receive their
nurse's caps and their school pins.
The capping ceremony resembles a graduation. It's a special part of a female
nursing student's junior year. The male students have to sit in the audience
with the beaming parents and spouses. Only the female students, resplendent
in their starched white dresses, receive their caps.
As I walked on to the stage, shook the School Administrator's hand, and then
waited to accept a cap. He faltered for just a second. My name wasn't on the
list. He was a cool head and barely missed a step. He handed me a cap and
whispered, "Young lady, I'll see you in my office after the ceremony."
So there I was. He showed controlled fury. Did I realize how embarrassing
this would have been for the school if anyone found out? Who helped me
with this? What were their names? How often had I been doing this? Why
had I done it? He went on and on. I tugged gently on an earring and crossed
my legs again.
I was not one of the women students. I was one of a handful of male
students. The girls who helped me had a wonderful time keeping the secret,
preparing me for the ceremony, and helping me look like one of the women
students. They provided everything that I needed. I was very thin, midway
between a woman's size 8 and size 10. And luckily, I had small feet for a
guy, women's size 9-M fit me easily. The girls thought it was a cute practical
joke and some sort of protest. It was more than that to me but I couldn't share
it with them.
I wanted to be a woman. It's both that simple and that complex. It's simple
because in my heart, I knew that I had the soul of a woman. I dressed as a
woman at every possible opportunity. I learned how to pass in public, how to
talk like a woman, and smoothly adjusted the pitch and timbre of my voice to
the appropriate range, I knew how to move as a woman. I used their gestures
and their speech mannerisms.
The girls noticed that my eyebrows were thinned but they didn't say
anything. It wasn't an unusual feature nowadays nor were my pierced ears.
Everyone has pierced ears now. I had my eyebrows waxed last year. I can
partially disguise it with eyebrow pencil and large tinted glasses. Of course,
as a male student, I didn't have to live in the dorm. The school hadn't arrived
in the 90's yet. It required all the unmarried women students to live in the
dorms. So they didn't know that I was transgendered outside of school.
Many of my neighbors must have thought that I lived with my girlfriend
because they saw 'her' coming and going so often. She was the one who did
the shopping while he was the one who left for school each morning.
The truth is that I didn't have a girlfriend. Sometimes I went out with a group
of other transgendered folks whom I knew really well. We went clubbing and
often ended up at the gay clubs to go dancing. Those clubs were safe for
people like us. Some of my friends were just not as passable as I was. As I
began to present myself as a woman more often in public, I wanted to be seen
with men to validate my gender identity. I was mildly attracted to men though
I compulsively role-played them making love to me in endless daydreams.
No matter if I were attracted, I was not ready to admit it to myself. It just felt
like the gender appropriate thing to do. I had two platonic boyfriends so far.
A simple goodnight kiss was as close as I had ever been to relations with a
man.
I suppose it was the traditionally feminine image of nursing that attracted me
to it. Every aspect of the feminine called to me.
The School Administrator jarred me out of my reverie by saying "I can expel
you for this stunt," you know.
"Yes, sir, I know."
"You did quite a job of camouflage on yourself. Quite a job," he said with
obvious admiration. Your voice is good, the way you carry yourself, quite a
job. You look very natural."
"Thank you." I grinned but immediately suppressed it, feeling a little
sheepish.
"Your little situation presents me with an opportunity. I'm in a major bind. I
need a little help. You might be able to help me and help yourself in the
process."
"Would I avoid being thrown out of school? Is that where this is leading?" I
asked, not thinking to ask what kind of help he wanted.
"Yes, I think so. I think we might forget about this. Let me tell you what my
problem is and give you a little time to think about it."
"Yes, please," I said and smiled a tiny smile.
"You pass just about anywhere you go, I'd guess. Is that true?" he said.
"Yes, I've been doing it for awhile."
"You're not gay, are you?" he asked. "It doesn't matter. I'm just curious.
You don't have to answer."
"No, I'm not. I do female impersonations at a trannie lounge on Tuesday
nights. It's amateur night Lots of fun!."
"I didn't think so. I can usually spot it. Because I am."
I was a little stunned but tried not to let it show. Just what did he have in
mind anyway? I was getting very nervous.
"Oh no!" he laughed, "Don't even worry about it. It's not what you think. I
just need someone to stand in for a fictitious woman for a couple of days.
Nobody is going to touch you or do anything you don't want. It's really very
mundane."
"What do you mean by stand in?" I asked.
"I have friends who are drag queens or dress up for their own reasons.
They're a little over the top. But you are as good as I've ever seen. Ordinary
people can read my friends. Does anyone ever read you?"
Hasn't happened yet! I said. I blushed. I don't try to look unusual, just to
blend in.
"Your blush makes you look very pretty," he said, smiling at me.
Then I really blushed. We both laughed, finally breaking the ice.
"Look," he said, "As I said, I have a nasty problem. My uptight old aunt is
coming out to visit me for three days. She's a fundy, you know, moral
majority, religious right, old bag fanatic. You get the drift. She thinks I'm
married. I had to let her think that. If she knew the truth, she'd cut me out of
her will so fast that your head would spin. I need somebody who is very
passable to impersonate my wife. Somebody like you. I had a friend who
said she would help me out but she backed out at the last minute and stranded
me."
My mind raced. It was almost a dream come true to see what it would be like
to be someone's wife. But how could I sleep in the same bed with a guy?
How would something like this work and what else would I have to do to
make it convincing? "I'll do it," I blurted out. My whole body went taut with
fear for a second. Then it relaxed. Somehow I knew this would be fun and
that there was nothing to worry about. I kept wondering why he didn't find a
real girl for the job or even hire someone.
"When is your aunt coming out here?"
"She'll be here in four days. It might be a good idea to come over to my
home before that. You'll need to learn your way around it to look like you've
lived there. And you'll have to bring plenty of clothing, makeup, whatever
you need."
"I can come over tomorrow if that's not too early." I was excited. I didn't
want to look it but it was like a daydream coming true. Even if only for a
week, I could play the wife. What fun!
"Wonderful! I'm looking forward to it. You're a doll to help me out on this.
One more thing, hon', before you go. I need you to drop a few snapshots of
yourself by my office tomorrow morning, okay?"
Imagine that. He called me a doll! It gave me the chills. I liked it. In the bars,
the guys called me doll, honey or sweetie. But it really didn't mean anything.
They called each other by the same endearments. This was my one-week
pretend husband and he thought that I was a doll. That meant something. It
was delicious.
I drove home quickly and began to pack. I packed a huge load of clothing,
not knowing if we'd go out or what might be expected of me. I even packed a
black party dress and dressy sandals just in case. There was no need to pack
a wig. My own hair while not very long was layered and very easy to style in
a feminine way. I was expert at that. I combed it into bangs, and teased the
rest of it to give it more body. I thought that I might put some highlights in it
and packed my friend, Miss Clairol. It would be fun to highlight my hair
again.
I intended to go over to his house en femme, of course, but casual in jeans
and a tee. Instead, I changed my mind and put on a short black jumper with a
beige tee and matching tights. I wore maryjane shoes with casual 1-1/2-inch
heels. A few touchups to my makeup and some fussing with my hair and I
was all set! I would blend in anywhere.
The First Day
Tim was young for a school administrator, this side of 35 I guessed. I think
if I was a real girl, I'd have called him cute. He was clean-shaven, about six
feet tall, with short, light brown hair and green eyes. He would definitely do
for a pretend husband.
"You really cannot call me Sir any more! Just call me Tim. That's my name.
And I'll call you Carrie instead of Gary. Okay?"
"Okay," and I flashed him a big smile.
"Carrie, just have fun with this. You're an actress here and you're helping me
so much. I'm sorry that I used a little unfair pressure on you."
"Weren't you going to expel me for the prank?" I asked.
"Truthfully, no. I liked your spunk. I didn't want to ruin your nursing career.
So now that you know, do you want to back out?"
"No. Tim, I don't. I think you sensed that anyway, didn't you?"
Then it was Tim's turn to grin.
"Honey, let's have some dinner and then relax for awhile. Then I can show
you around the house. You're the Lady of The House you know. You don't
mind being called Honey, right? I mean we're supposed to be husband and
wife. Would you rather I call you Sweetie? Babe? We won't be convincing as
a couple without a few endearments like that."
We were both laughing by then! I felt confident that my brief masquerade this
would be fun.
"Okay, Honey it is. I forgot to mention that you should bring something
formal. Aunt Catherine will want to go out for an elegant dinner at least
once."
I assured him that I had one and then set about familiarizing myself with the
kitchen and making dinner. He hadn't said anything but there was a role to
play, a traditional role, a role I was dying to play.
After dinner we sipped creamy lattes and I asked him the little question that
was troubling me. "What sort of sleeping arrangements will there be? I
imagine that your Aunt would think it odd if I slept downstairs on the couch.
The alternative makes me a little nervous though."
Tim smiled at me. "There's a king-sized bed in the master bedroom. Until she
arrives, you can sleep in the guestroom and after, well, the bed is so big we'll
be miles apart! And I won't touch you. I already promised. I know you're an
actress playing a part and I'm grateful that you agreed to it. How does this all
sound to you?"
"Tim, I can sleep in the same bed as you tonight. I need to get used to it to be
able to appear at ease. I'll be fine. So, do you snore? I don't!"
"Honey", I said, with a lot of emphasis on the word, "can I ask you a little
question?"
"Sure, anything," he answered.
"I noticed when I unpacked my bags that there was already half a closet full
of women's clothing in the bedroom. Is that, umm, yours? I mean, do you
dress?"
"No, doll, I don't dress. Besides, I'm a big guy with broad shoulders, not a
skinny kid like you. Don't worry about the clothes, okay."
"I was just curious", I said.
He snapped "Well, don't be!" so I just dropped it. But I worried about it.
The first night, I climbed into the huge bed in a silky nightie.
"Pretty seductive sleepwear, sweetie," he said.
"I know. But you're not attracted to girls! Sweet dreams, dear." And I dozed
off.
The Second Day
I had a lovely sleep and awoke refreshed. By the time I had finished
showering and dressing, Tim was already up. I offered to make us breakfast.
Soon we were enjoying a pair of lattes again in the living room. Despite the
caffeine, drinking lattes always put me in a languid mood. I wore a pair of
tight jeans and a peasant blouse. I had been sitting in the bay window while
Tim sat on the couch. Tim motioned for me to join him. I walked over and he
then reached over and took the coffee cup from my hand. He placed it on the
table and turned toward me. I wasn't prepared for what happened next. Tim
put his arm around me. I wondered how he defined "And I won't touch you"
when he said it yesterday. I pulled back slightly.
Tim looked annoyed. "Look, honey", he said, "I'm just not into being close
to women, okay? So I asked you to help me. I know that you can pull this
charade off easily. But, you know, nobody's going to buy it if we don't act
friendly. Make sense to you?"
"You're right, Tim, I'm sorry. I'll get used to it." I said.
"Okay, Hon, cause we don't have very much time to learn our parts." he
said.
Then I kissed his cheek. He was surprised at that. "You're a quick study,
Carrie!"
Tim made the next move by kissing me right on the lips. I didn't pull back
that time. I just went with my instincts and returned his kiss with all the
feeling that I could manage. All my lovely daydreams suddenly became real.
Our tongues sought each other and we embraced tightly. A thousand
memories of fantasy role-playing flashed through my mind. I was an actress.
I kept repeating it to myself. Actress. Just an actress. Nevertheless, at that
moment I was a very vulnerable and suggestible actress.
I knew that we would be touching, kissing, and hugging for his Aunt's
benefit. Also, I had my own agenda. I was so eager to experience life as a
married woman. I did not want to decide yet about my future path. I might
live transgendered and always present myself to the world outwardly as
female or as transsexual and go for surgery. I was attracted to women but I
fantasized men when I was acting as a woman. You don't take decisions like
that lightly.
There I was kissing a man and relishing it. It was intoxicating me. We kissed
again and embraced each other gently. Tim ran his hands through my hair.
He gently squeezed my breasts. He was surprised to discover than I had
feminine breasts. Under the loose clothing and sweatshirts that I wore to
school, nobody would have noticed the implants. They were modest in size
but very real. I was impatient with the hormones and testosterone blockers
that I was taking. I wanted them to do their work more quickly. The implants
made me feel more confident.
I moaned softly and stroked his leg. I began to feel more and more attraction
to him. I wanted him so much. That was frightening and unfamiliar territory.
I seemed to be in the mindset of a woman just as I had dreamed of it for
years. And it was happening. Why did I have a twinge of fright? Never mind
that, I decided to seduce him openly. I almost felt compelled to continue as if
the latte had been drugged. Ridiculous, of course. I didn't care any more.
"Sweetheart, I want you to feel closer to me. I want so much to make you
happy. Show me; teach me what to do. Teach me how to make love to you."
Tim guided my hand to his crotch. "Are you sure?" he said. "Yes, oh heaven,
yes." He felt the passion too. He pulled my hand against him. All my
restraint was gone. I wanted my husband. I wanted him sexually. I wanted
my husband inside of me. I wanted to wrap my legs around him and kiss him
deeply. I wanted him to overwhelm me with masculine power. I wanted him
to make me his real wife.
I caressed him with more intensity. I reached for him slowly. This is your
husband, I kept thinking. I am your wife and I want you. He rolled on top of
me and put his arms around me. It was an incredible sensation for me. A few
minutes later, he was throbbing between my legs. We felt like husband and
wife. I forgot ever having been a male. We stayed there for a long time,
gently caressing and kissing.
That night Tim taught me everything about how to make love to him. We fell
asleep in each others arms. I had a lot to think about. My head was so cloudy
that volition was impossible that night. I just did whatever he suggested.
The second day went by quickly. That night we slept naked in each other's
arms again. In just one more day his aunt would arrive and he'd show off his
lovely new wife. I planned to wear a silky tee with cap sleeves and a brown
broomstick skirt with my brown tights. I wanted to look sweet and feminine.
I already knew how hard it would be to end our masquerade. "Honey, make
love to me again," I whispered. I told him how much I loved him. It was
quite real and I loved to say it. Then our tongues met in a long delicious kiss.
At least I think it was real. I enjoyed the sound of it. Maybe it was just play-
acting, but I was so excited to feel like a married woman.
My taboos came crashing down yet again. I had let a man hold me and kiss
me. At first, he had been reluctant to make love to me, sensing my
nervousness and total lack of experience. I was glad of that because I was a
little frightened. I just held him throbbing between my legs. It made me feel
so gloriously feminine. His sensitivity and caring was so dear to me. Then I
gave in to the moment. I needed fulfillment. I needed a joining. Last night I
let a man enter me and make love to me. I did all the sensual things that he
asked of me and surrendered to him completely.
The next morning I teased him often, a caress here, a soft kiss there. It felt
very natural and made us both smile. I knew that he'd be picking up his aunt
soon. The real act was about to begin. I was doing the little affectionate
things than any new bride would do.
I finally saw why he had wanted snapshots of me. One of his friends fudged
some wedding pictures by blending our faces into existing images with
software. It was a cute touch. I kept staring at one of the pictures that showed
me as a bride. I would be thinking of them every time that we smooched for
his Aunt. We were newlyweds. Let the show begin!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Imitation of Wife, Part 2
The Third Day
I heard a car in the driveway. That had to be Tim bringing his Aunt Catherine
back from the airport. Tim carried all her heavy luggage into the house. I was
thinking "I'm a girl. I don't have to do that!" Advantage: Carrie. I saw her
standing beside the car. She hardly looked intimidating. She looked like an
ordinary, quiet lady in her mid-50's. She had probably been very pretty at
one time. Even now she was striking. She did look a little repressed though
or possibly just uncomfortable. I'd do my best to be a lovely hostess.
Aunt Catherine's voice seemed strangely masculine. I heard them talking but
it seemed like I was in another world. They were meaningless fragments, soft
voices that were very far away, whispering that had no meaning to me. I was
strangely tired. All I could think about was my new husband and how I
yearned to please him. So far away... those fragments... those whispers...
. "She's a lovely one, dear. Where did you ever find her? ...And so easy to
persuade you say? How delicious. I'd love to have at her myself, honey. Too
bad it's your turn. ...Yes, yes, we're getting it all on video. We haven't
missed one tasty minute of it. ...Why don't you keep her when we wrap it?
We could even do her up a little differently and use her again in other videos.
Of course, you could always give her to me. I wouldn't let this little honey
get away. Are you honestly telling me the other night was her first time? I do
think she has a gift. An absolute doll. We must convince her to stay. ...Well,
of course, we can keep on doing that! She reacted so predictably to our little
mind drugs so far. She'll continue to have no willpower whatsoever. Its just
so much yummier if they stay on their own."
What might happen next, my dear readers? Our heroine, sweet Carrie, is so
languid and suggestible after drinking the drugged lattes. The poor girl is
unaware of the part that she really plays. Perhaps if she were aware, she'd be
thrilled to live her dearest fantasy at last.
Carrie might discover a scrapbook full of pictures of earlier wives, news
articles, videotapes, and storyboard sketches. They may all be girlish male
students who dropped out of school and disappeared. But whatever happened
to them? Moreover, what might happen to our heroine now?
(c) 1997 Farah Daye
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