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Mining for Turquoise By Barbara Harold Oberdorfer had been the head of the geology department at Sweetriver State University for many years prior to his death. Harold was a genius and knew how to make his genius pay. As a younger man, he had deduced the presence of a large body of molybdenum ore in a remote part of the Rocky Mountains simply by analyzing reports of core drillings that were available in the public records. Quietly buying up mining claims and forming his own company, he had made gazzillions when he sold out to one the large mining companies. When the first Mrs. Oberdorfer died, Harold's wealth attracted a multitude of female prospectors. The second Mrs. Oberdorfer, Carolyn, was young, reasonably attractive and a little squirrelly. Because Harold could have chosen from a field that included several really gorgeous women, there developed a long-standing rumor among the undergraduates that Harold had married Carolyn because she attended to his more eccentric sexual habits. (Rich people have eccentric sexual habits. People like you and me have perversions.) Even so, Carolyn was still a good looking woman. When Harold died he left one-third of his estate to Carolyn and two-thirds to a trust with Carolyn as trustee. Harold's will directed her to use the trust to fund worthwhile projects in the geology department. In part, Harold wanted to help a department starved by financial cutbacks. He also wanted to make sure that his colleagues gave Carolyn some attention after he was gone. He succeeded on both points, especially the attention she received. Her parties were "de rigueur" for the faculty. You could always tell when her invitations hit the department mailboxes, because every member of the faculty would line up at the cleaners to have his only tie pressed. Those truly desperate for the funding of a pet project would rent a tuxedo. The September barbecue at Carolyn's house was open to the whole department: faculty, graduate students and undergraduates, like me. Carolyn gave us the run of the house and even gave some tours. Harold had accumulated a phenomenally good collection of Devonian cephalopod fossils that most of the students nerdishly drooled over in the study. What caught my eye though was Carolyn's outgoing dry cleaning, which was on a rack in the laundry room adjacent to the study. Hanging in front was the most exquisite woman's turquoise business suit I had ever seen. The cephalopods were interesting, but it was the suit that I kept glancing at whenever I had the opportunity. Now, I liked women's clothing, but I had not cross dressed. I had always thought that women got to wear pretty things with a lot of color and personality when they wanted to look their best, while a man's formal attire was a dark suit or a black tux. Women's lingerie ads also fascinated me. Colored panties, nylon slips and pantyhose had made boxer shorts seem so drab. To satisfy my curiosity, I had sampled some of my mother's underthings when I was younger, but I had never really had a chance to dress completely in female clothes. I could only fantasize about the luscious items in my mother's closet and her catalogues. I fantasized at Carolyn's house too, but after the barbecue, I put the suit out of mind and went back to classes on Monday. On Wednesday, the phone in my dorm room rang. "Hello," I said. "Richard? This is Mrs. Oberdorfer." "Mrs. Oberdorfer. What a surprise! May I help you?" "Yes, you can. Professor Tattani said that you are working on a project for him that interests me very much. I was wondering if you could come over to my home on Friday and tell me a little about it. When does your last class end on Friday?" "Three thirty." "You don't have anything else planned do you?" she asked. I did have some other plans with the guys, but Mrs. Oberdorfer liked to be obeyed, especially when it came to financing projects in the geology department. "No, not really," I replied. "Good. I expect to see you at four. We can discuss the project and have dinner. Don't forget now." Click. The phone went dead. Well, I thought, at least it was free food. I arrived just before four o'clock at Mrs. Oberdorfer's front door. She answered the door herself. "Hello, Richard. Chelsea, my maid has the night off, so I get to answer the door myself. That means we can discuss this project undisturbed. Please come in." She took me into the study and asked me to sit in a chair that looked into the laundry. She then took a chair in front of me. Right behind her, in a clear plastic bag from the cleaners, was that same turquoise suit. It was everything I could do to keep from staring at it. I kept glancing whenever I thought Mrs. Oberdorfer wasn't looking. A few minutes into our conversation about the project, she stood up and said, "Are you distracted by something? You keep looking over my shoulder, but the only thing back there is the laundry." She took a few steps to the laundry and grabbed the plastic bag that held the suit. "Are you looking at this?" "Well, no, Mrs. Oberdorfer. My eyes just wander a little. It's a bad habit of mine." "Richard you're blushing. Your face is beet red. You do like this suit. Would you like to wear it?" I don't know if it is possible to blush any harder than I was blushing then, but my whole body got warm. I felt as if I had been caught in drag in the center of a Republican Party convention. She had guessed my little secret, and I did not know what to say. "Oh, no, Mrs. Oberdorfer. I was just looking at it. I don't do things like that." The words came lamely. "Richard, I can look into your soul. Your face betrays you. If you want to wear the suit, you may. I don't object to those kinds of things. I help all of those nerds on the faculty fulfill their geologic fantasies, why can't I help you fulfill yours." She held out one hand to me and took the suit off of the rack with the other. "No one is going to hurt you, we'll just have some fun. Come with me." She started moving her fingers in the "come along" sign. I stood up to follow her. She walked over and gently took my hand. "Come, come. This will be fun, and no one will get hurt." She led me to the master bedroom and pointed to the bathroom. "If you're going to wear girl clothes, you have to look as much like a girl as possible. I want you to go in there, take off all of your clothes and your glasses and put on the swimming suit that is on the counter. When you've changed, open the door. I'll put your clothes aside and show you what we'll do next." She must have also seen the expanding bulge in my pants because she continued, "And if you get too excited, there's a bucket of ice in there. Just put your hand in it as far as you can go and splash it on your face. We don't want any accidents." I looked at her in amazement. "You had this all planned, didn't you? It just didn't happen." "Of course, silly. I saw you staring at my suit at the barbecue. I thought I'd find out just how deep your love of skirts really is. I think it's a lot deeper than you believe it is and that you'll enjoy the next couple of hours immensely. Now, get undressed." I was curious more than anything else. I had fantasized about wearing a skirt, now here was an opportunity to fulfill my fantasy. I decided that I wanted to wear that skirt. I decided to do what Mrs. Oberdorfer asked me to do. I went into the bathroom, shut the door and immediately put my hands in the ice. What a freeze. I was still excited, but I was at least able to continue . As Mrs. Oberdorfer had instructed, I took off my clothes and my glasses, laid them in a nice pile and put on the swimming suit. When I opened the door, she took the clothes and laid them on a chair in the bedroom. She returned and ordered me into the Roman tub. Putting on a pair of plastic gloves, she opened a bottle of rather foul smelling paste. She spread the paste over my legs and my chest and then ordered me to put my arms out to the side. She continued to spread the goo over my arms, in my armpits and on the back of my hands. "Don't go away and don't move. I'll be back in a few minutes," she said as she put the last of the paste on me. "There's a towel rack at either end of the tub. You can hold on to them, but don't let your arms fall." She then left the room. I stood there like a scarecrow for about two minutes before she returned. She sat on a stool and asked, "What shall we call you for the rest of the evening, Richard won't work you know." "I don't know Mrs. Oberdorfer. I hadn't thought about it." "First, please call me 'Auntie Carolyn,' at least for the remainder of the evening, it's so much less formal. And as for you, I can't believe you don't have any favorite girl names or that you have never thought of being called by a girl name." "Well, my parents told me that if I had been a girl, they would have called me Barbara. Is that OK?" "Perfect, Barbara it is. Now let's see how that bottle of Nair worked." NAIR. She was taking off my body hair. How could I have been so stupid as to not realize what she doing. But, it was too late now. That stuff had been on me for at least five minutes, and when she turned the shower on me, my hair began to go down the drain in big clumps. She handed me a wash cloth and instructed me to start wiping down my skin to remove any hair that hadn't washed away in the rinse. In a matter of one or two minutes my legs, arms, armpits and chest were hairless. I gasped as I continued to stand in the shower. The feel of the water running off my hairless skin was totally different than I had ever felt before. My legs felt alive as they had never felt before. It was a wonderful feeling. "Barbara. I want you to take off that swimming suit and take a nice hot shower. Be sure to get the smell of the Nair off of you. When you finish, I'll want you to oil your body, but not your face, with the cream on the counter. Your skin has just had a shock from that depilatory, and it needs some soothing. I'll also have some things for you to wear when you get out." I took the hot shower. The room filled with vapor, and I luxuriated in my first shower with shaved legs. I toweled off and proceeded to spread the cream over my body below the neck. Even the cream felt different with no hair on my legs. There were three items on the counter, a bathrobe, a pair of light blue panties and some gizmo that I quickly understood was designed to hold my maleness up and give the impression of a pussy between my legs. It took a minute or two but I soon had my member out of sight and pointing to the rear. I was flat in front and noticed that I could still pee without taking the gaff (its name, as I learned later) off. I put on the panties, noticing the material had a flower design woven into it and that a pretty little bow was sown into the elastic band at the front. They were bikini cut which meant that they only came part way up my ass. Having worn briefs all of my life, it felt as if they were constantly falling off. It took a little getting used to. I put on the bathrobe and left the bathroom to encounter my fate. Auntie Carolyn quickly had me sit in a big swiveling chair at her cosmetic vanity. The chair went back, and a hot towel went around my face. "While your beard softens up, let's look at your nails," she said. I could feel her pushing my cuticles back and snipping away the dead skin. "There. That looks better." She took off the towel and lathered up my beard. Taking a straight razor, she proceeded to give me the closest shave I had ever had and did not nick me even once. "This will sting a little," she said as she splashed something on my face to calm the irritation, She also added a little face cream to soothe the raw skin. "OK, Barbara. We need to pluck your eyebrows a little but not so much that people will notice tomorrow." I felt her pull several of the hairs from my eyebrows out by the roots. After a while, she remarked, "That's enough. We now begin at the top." Pancake makeup on my forehead and eyes was followed by powder, which was followed by the eyebrow pencil tracing out my eyebrows. Eye shadow (in three colors), eye liner and mascara all followed in turn. She covered my beard with concealer and then orange lipstick. Over that came more pancake makeup, powder and blush on my cheekbones. "Open your mouth," instructed Auntie as she proceeded to paint my lips with a deep red lipstick. "Dark red is an evening color, Barbara. You'll have to learn about colors." She added a few more dark and light patches to soften some of the male features of my face. "Some people call them racing stripes. And with that, your face is complete. Time to stand up, but don't look in the mirror." Not looking was not a major problem. Without my glasses, the image in the mirror would have been a blur. I got out of the chair and walked over to the bed. The turquoise suit was laid out neatly at the end of the bed along with an assortment of feminine undergarments. "Have you ever worn a bra, Barbara?" asked Auntie. "No, Auntie. I haven't." "Well, here. Take off your robe and put this on." She handed me a white 36B bra. I must have blushed because she looked at me with a little frustration and said. "It's just us girls, Barbara. I'm not a lesbian. I won't attack you just because you're standing there wearing only your pretty blue panties." I took off my robe and put my arms through the straps in the bra. I reached behind me to fasten the clasp, and Auntie Carolyn placed a breast form in each cup. It was another wonderful feeling, the strap across my back and the cups gently pushing on my chest. "If we do this again, Barbara, I'll glue the breast forms to your chest so that you can wear a low cut blouse that shows your cleavage. But today is your first day. So let's go slow." Auntie took a new pair of pantyhose out of its wrapper and handed them to me. "Turquoise is your color today. Do you know how to put these on?" she asked. I nodded my head and sat down on the bed. I rolled one leg of the hose down to its toe. Slipping it onto one foot, I pulled it up my calf and then repeated the process with the other leg. The new sensations continued to pour into my psyche. I had filched my mother's pantyhose before, but wearing a pair on shaved legs was delightful. My skin was coming alive. I brought the hose up to my crotch attempting to be careful to stretch the hose as much as possible. I wasn't very successful and had to roll the hose down to my knees twice before the crotch of the hose came up to the bottom of my panties. "You're learning dear, you're learning," Auntie said with encouragement. The next item looked ominous. Auntie explained that it was a waist cincher designed to give me a thinner more feminine physique. She strapped it around my waist and pulled the drawstrings tight. I thought I would pass out. No wonder all of those 19th century women were always fainting in their corsets. You couldn't breathe. But it did narrow my waist and lower rib cage significantly. "I'll bet you're a lingerie dude, Barbara. Most girls would just put the blouse and skirt on now, but I bet you would like a slip, wouldn't you?" I shook my head "yes" and smiled. Auntie handed me a full slip which I pulled over my head and set in place. She adjusted the straps so that the cups of the slip hung properly over the cups of my bra. There was a band of lace at the hem of the slip and embroidered pink flowers just above the lace. I was in absolute ecstasy. I picked up the white sleeveless blouse from the bed and pulled it up my arms. I stumbled a little on the buttons which were on the opposite side from my male attire. The blouse had a "v" neck which revealed much of my now hairless chest. When I lifted my arms, my armpits were clearly visible. No wonder she spread that Nair in there too. No woman would wear a sleeveless blouse without shaved armpits. The material of the blouse itself was quite thin and revealed the white lingerie underneath. Then it was time for the one thing that I had been wanting to wear since the barbecue. I took the turquoise skirt from the bed, stepped into it and pulled it up to my waist. I fastened the clasp on the left side and pulled up the zipper. I was dressed. I was fully dressed as a girl. Everything (except the gaff) was feminine. It was wonderful. "We're almost there, dear," said Carolyn with anticipation. She opened a shoe box and handed me a pair of turquoise pumps with two inch heels. "Ever wear high heels?" "No, Auntie." "Well, sit down on the bed and put these on. We'll have you walking around in no time." I sat down again and fidgeted with the shoes. I lost my balance when I first stood up but quickly recovered. Standing was not too difficult, and walking was all right except it was hard to recover if you lost your balance. Auntie motioned me to the big chair once more and pulled a dark blonde wig from a large box. She placed it on my head and examined her work for a while. "Put your hands on the arms of the chair," she commanded. With my hands on the arms of the chair, Auntie next produced a tube and a container full of long fingernails, all compartmentalized by size and shape. Within a few minutes, I had a natural looking nail at the end of each finger. A coat of dark red polish, in a color to match my lipstick, was soon on each nail. Auntie Carolyn pulled two clip on earrings from a drawer in her cosmetic vanity and gave them to me. One was quickly dangling from each ear despite the difficulty imposed by my new manicure. The necklace was a pendant of cut blue glass that matched my panties (but who would ever notice) that hung just above the "v" in the blouse. I had to push my hair back to clasp it behind my neck, another new experience. A Navajo silver and turquoise bracelet for my right wrist, a lady's watch for my left wrist and a shot of perfume on my wrists completed my makeover, or so I thought. Carolyn left for a few seconds and returned carrying a package. "While you were in the shower, I had a courier take your glasses down to the one-hour optical shop. These frames are more befitting of a lady." With that, she pulled out a pair of silver-framed ladies glasses. They were ground to my prescription, and I could see farther than 15 feet for the first time in a couple of hours. "Take a look, Barbara," instructed Auntie. Looking in the mirror, Richard was totally gone. It was only Barbara. I looked great. I couldn't take my eyes off of my reflection. "It worked. I really look like a girl." "Of course you do. I know what I'm doing. Now are you hungry?" "Oh yes, Auntie, but with my waist cinched up don't make a lot for me. I couldn't eat much." "Make? It's much too late to make dinner. We're going out to my club. Here's a purse. It has everything you'll need. Put on your jacket and let's go out to the car." "But Auntie, what if someone recognizes me? I don't want to go out. Please, just let me sit here for a while. I'll put my own clothes on after a while and go back to the dorm" "You can go back to the dorm if you wish, but the clothes you have on are your clothes now. You'll have to wear them if you leave. I've taken those male things and put them someplace I can't remember. Now, what will it be?" I was trapped, or so I thought. I sucked up my courage and put on the turquoise jacket. Once again, I had to flip my hair in order to pull the jacket up to my neck. It was fun doing things like that, things like a girl. I put my purse on my shoulder and followed Carolyn out to the car. For the first time in my life, the clip, clip, clip was the sound of my heels on the floor. "Do you know how a lady enters a car, Barbara?" ""No, I thought it was just like everyone else." "Dearie, if you put your foot in first, several things can happen, none of which are good. First, it's OK for a man to do that, but it looks gauche for a lady in a skirt. Second, you are standing on one leg in high heels for a few seconds which means anything can happen. Third, your skirt can ride up to the top of your thighs revealing everything a lady is trying to hide." She opened the door and told me to stand with my back to the seat. "Now sit down first, putting your hand on your skirt if you have to, and then swing your legs in." I did as instructed and soon Auntie was backing down the drive and getting into traffic. I was out in public dressed as a girl. I envisioned people in other cars staring at me. I was petrified. Nothing happened in the car. "Barbara, we have to get you to talk like a girl. You can't order dinner dressed as you are and sound like a fullback. Just start talking to me about anything but try to talk softly and much higher in your voice box." It was a 20 minute ride to club, and Auntie gave me a lot of instruction and had me talking constantly the entire way. As we turned into the driveway, I became terrified, but Auntie had a few reassuring words. "Your voice is much better, You'll do just fine. Just don't talk unless you have to. And don't open the door, the attendant will open the door for you. Remember to swing both legs out and then stand up." "Yes, Auntie Carolyn. I'll remember everything." The attendant opened the door as we came to a stop. "Good evening, Miss. Welcome to the Rock Hound Club." (Harold was one of the founding members.) I rose from the car and mumbled, "Thank you," in a voice so soft I hoped he would only see my lips move. "Well," I thought, "at least I seem to have fooled him. Now can I fool everyone else." The club was a little dark. Harold wanted to have some resemblance to the mine that had made all of his loot. That was fine with me; the less light, the less likely someone was to notice that I wasn't exactly what I was pretending to be. Carolyn had a private table near one corner of the large dining room. There was a dance floor at the other end, and a band looked as if it was setting up to play. Carolyn and I looked at the menu. She asked me what I wanted and said she would order it for me if I was still unsure of my voice. I usually ate like the fullback Auntie was trying to push out of me, but with my waist cinched as it was, I found myself ordering a chef salad. "Excellent choice. You have to keep that slim figure," commented Carolyn. Dinner came, and the band started to play. It was quite an enjoyable meal. I was actually starting to relax and become comfortable in my new role. When dinner was finished, Auntie Carolyn looked at me and commented that my lipstick had faded considerably. "Why don't you go into the powder room and freshen it up. There's a new tube in your purse." "No way. I have to draw the line somewhere. I am not using the ladies' toilet." She gave me one of those stern looks that I used to get from my mother. "And what do you intend to wear back to your dorm? The 'powder' room is empty. No one has been in there for at least 30 minutes. Now take your purse and freshen up your lipstick. And do anything else you have to do." I took my purse from the floor and walked into the women's wash room. It was empty as Auntie had predicted. Once inside, I decided I might as well relieve myself. My bladder was full anyway. I selected a stall, locked the door and pulled up my skirt. Working my panties and panty hose down my legs a little, I sat down and took a refreshing pee. That's when the door opened and someone took the next stall. My blood pressure must have increased a hundred points. I heard her unzip her slacks and pull them down. I could see the cuff of the slacks and her high heels under the partition between the stalls. I didn't want to be in close contact with a real woman in that brightly lit wash room. I had to act fast. I hurried to pull my panties up and my skirt down while she was still in her stall. It was a difficult task to be quick with long fingernails. I flushed the toilet and stepped out of my stall. I washed my hands and fiddled through the purse to find the tube of lipstick. If I didn't show that I had used the tube, Auntie would send me back, I just knew it. The purse was a mass of junk: hairbrush, lipstick, face powder, fingernail polish, tissues and KOTEX. That I didn't need. I took a few careful swipes across my lips and left the "powder" room just as the co-inhabitant was flushing her toilet. "Close call," I thought. "It was too bright in there." When I returned to the table, there was a young man sitting at the table talking to Auntie. "Barbara, this is Michael. He's one of Harold's old students. Well, not old in years obviously. Michael, this is my niece, Barbara." "Pleased to meet you, Barbara." Michael stood and extended his hand. I thought quickly about my position and gave him the worst "dishrag" handshake I could give. It's the way most girls had shaken hands with me. Michael pulled back my chair and I remembered to tuck my skirt under me as I sat down. I had been practicing my voice all during the meal and had been getting some favorable critiques from Carolyn. I wasn't talkative, but I kept up my part of the conversation. It turned out that Michael had a small mineral exploration firm a few buildings away, and he came to the club for dinner every Friday evening. After a while, Michael turned to me and asked if I would like to dance. Carolyn spoke up before I could even recover from my anxiety attack. "An excellent idea, Barbara. You young folks need to be together for a while." She gave a look that told me this was another command. "Now just leave your jacket on the back of the chair and have a good time." "I haven't danced much in heels Auntie, I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself." I prided myself on some quick thinking that blamed my reluctance to dance on the high heels. "Nothing will happen. It's a slow piece. You'll be dancing close. Just put your left hand on Michael's shoulder and use him to support you if you trip." Left hand on his shoulder!! That meant my right hand would be holding his hand and our bodies would be touching. What if he got an erection and I could feel it through the skirt? I wasn't a queer. But I had little choice. The alternative was to walk back to the dorm in drag and explain to the guys why I was wearing so much makeup and a wig. Carolyn continued her prodding. "Give it a try, dearie. You'll enjoy yourself." Michael stood and placed his hand on the back of my chair. As I stood, he pulled the chair back out of my way. He took my hand and led me to the dance floor. I was holding hands with a man and was disgusted with where this little escapade was leading me. Michael turned and raised his left hand waiting for me to put my right hand in it. For about the third time that evening, I sucked up my courage and placed my hand in his while laying my other hand on his shoulder, my fingernails glistening against the dark material of his jacket. He put his right hand behind my back and pulled me close. He began to move his feet, and I followed his steps. I was glad that Auntie had had the foresight to Nair my arms and armpits. The sleeveless blouse would have given away my secret to everyone if my armpits had remained the same hairy things they had been a few hours ago. After an eternity, the music stopped and we returned to the table. Carolyn looked overjoyed. "You two made such a nice couple out there. Barbara, you underestimate yourself. You did very well." "Thank you, Auntie. It's very tiring though. I need to sit one or two out." I was trying to find some way to not go out again at all. But the fates had another surprise for me. "Mrs. Oberdorfer," began Michael. "It's a wonderful evening and there is an arts and crafts show in the park with some entertainment. Would you mind if I asked Barbara if she wanted to go for a stroll. I can bring her back to your place later." "Michael, that's very nice of you. What do you think Barbara? It is such a pleasant evening, and it would be just the two of us at home watching old soaps on the TV." Actually, watching old soap operas on the TV looked much better than going for a stroll with Michael. But I had already guessed that this was another command performance. "That sounds fine Michael. Auntie, when would you like to have me home?" I was hoping she would say 11:00, but instead, she said, "It's Friday night, my dear. You two set your own time. You're 20 now." Everything was conspiring against me, or so it seemed. Dressing up had been fun. Going to the club had been adventurous. Going out on a stroll with a man was more than I had bargained for. And now she gave this fellow all night to hit on me. He was bound to find out something, and I only thought that would mean trouble. Michael stood up and offered me his hand. I grabbed my purse and took his hand as I came to my feet. Michael held my jacket as I put it on, and we left through the front door. It was a pleasant evening. Michael offered me his arm. Wearing heels, I thought it prudent to hold on to him in case I tripped. But it also meant I was holding onto a man. We toured the arts and crafts fair. Michael offered to buy me some handmade jewelry, but I declined. I told him it was just the two of us walking through the park, and I didn't want anything. I enjoyed looking at the handicrafts and listening to the various bands playing from the gazebo. As time passed, the high heels started to become very painful. I asked Michael if we could sit on one of the park benches. Most of the benches were full of people watching the show at the fair. The bench we found was a little out of the way, but at least it was a bench. I sat first, and Michael sat next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders as he did so. I had been dreading this part for the last few hours. We said nothing for a while. He only looked at me, and then he drew nearer as if to kiss me. I pulled back. He sensed that I was frozen with fear. "If you don't want to kiss me, you don't have to. That's OK. You're still fun to be with. Do you know that?" He kept his arm on my shoulders. "Thank you, Michael. You're fun too." "Aren't you curious to see what it's like?" "To see what what's like?" "What it's like to kiss a man. It took a lot of observation, but I know you're a guy." I started to panic and got mentally ready for whatever might happen. "Now, don't get excited. I won't hurt you, and I promised 'Auntie Carolyn' I would bring you home. "When I first saw you with Carolyn this evening, I thought that you really were her niece. But knowing her, I was suspicious. I had to find out for myself. I thought you were her niece until we finished dancing. You were breathing just a little too deeply from the exercise to be a real girl." "What do you want?" I asked him. "I just want you to be Barbara. That's all. And I'm wondering if you're curious about being a girl. Would you like to see what it's like, to be a girl, to kiss a man?" Something came over me. I lost my common sense. I looked him squarely in the eye and moved my head forward. He bent down, and our lips touched. I was shocked. I was enjoying it. The kissing became passionate as we sucked on each other's lips. Our tongues flitted from one mouth to the other. He placed his hand on my bra and began to squeeze. I wished it had been a real breast so that I could have felt it. He took my hand in his and placed it between his legs. I moved my hand up his trousers until it found his erection. He moaned softly, and it made me happy that I was giving him pleasure. He moved his hand to my knee and then gently up my skirt. The feel of being caressed through panty hose was electrifying. I began to moan and wanted Michael's hand on my legs for as long as he could keep it there. "My office is only a short walk from here. Can you make it in those heels?" "I'll make it." He took my hand, and we strolled the two blocks to his office. My toes were killing me, but the pain ceased to bother me as the anticipation of the next few minutes overcame me. Michael unlocked his office and opened the door for me. As we entered, he took me by the shoulders and turned me around. We embraced and kissed. He raised the back of my skirt and was soon moving his hands over the rear of my pantyhose. I reached for his zipper and moved my hand inside his pants caressing the erection beneath his briefs. We broke the embrace and laid on the floor only to resume the passionate kissing. I unbuckled Michael's belt and undid the button on his trousers. He raised his hips, and I pushed his trousers down. I broke our kiss so that I could see what I was doing. His erection stood like a pole under his briefs. I put my hands on the waistband, and he raised his hips again. I slipped the briefs past his bulging erection and then fondled him as gently as I could. He rolled onto his back moaning softly. I continued to fondle his erection for several minutes, and then I knew what I had to do. I bent lower and took him in my mouth. I covered my teeth with my lips and began moving up and down in a rhythmic manner. He continued to moan. I knew what he was feeling and was glad that it was me who was producing so much pleasure in him. My lips started to burn from the movement back and forth over his erect penis, but I wanted him to cum, and I wanted him to cum in my mouth. I could feel his body tense, and his warm sperm gushed into my mouth. Without hesitation, I swallowed it. And, I sucked on him to get more until there was no more. I had satisfied him, and I was pleased with myself. I kept him in my mouth until he deflated and had pulled my head back toward his face. "That was the best blow job I've ever had. Thank you." "No, thank you. I enjoyed myself. It was fun." "I've neglected you." He placed his hand on the front of my skirt and pressed inwards to my own member which was hidden inside the gaff. "I don't need anything, Michael. I know how you feel. Just lie there and enjoy it for a few moments." He turned a little and moved his head forward. We kissed again. Not passionate this time, but lovingly. He embraced me. I knew that inner peace a man has after he ejaculates. Michael was at peace. I was at peace. We were happy with each other. "Will Carolyn let you dress next Friday too?" "I think she's counting on it." "When should I pick you up?" "Seven. What should I wear?" "Let it be a surprise. I'll call your Auntie and tell her what to pick up for you. She can afford it. It'll be a dress or a skirt. I bet you don't like pants anymore." "Men's clothing is a little drab." "I think we'll have great fun together, Barbara." "Yes, Michael. We will." I began to think to myself, "Auntie was right. I do like skirts, and I had a lot of fun.