How I Spent my Summer Vacation
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How I Spent My Summer Vacation free porn video
HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER VACATION
By Rachel Rogers
It all started out simple enough. Just another day hangin'
out with Carol. School had ended last week and already we
had fallen into a pattern of boredom. We were either in my
room playing computer games or in hers listening to CDs.
Carol and I were best friends. Our mothers were roommates
in college and had remained close friends ever since. We'd
known each other all our lives. We'd even been born within
a month of each other.
That day was just like any other. The Rolling Stones were
on the stereo. Carol was lying on her bed reading a
magazine, and I was sitting at her dressing table fiddling
with some kind of scissor-like contraption I had never seen
before.
"What the hell is this?" I asked.
"It's an eyelash curler, moron," said Carol.
"An eyelash curler? Doesn't that hurt?" For some reason I
had a picture of her eyelid being twisted inside out by
this hellish looking device.
Carol gave me that exasperated sigh she uses when I've done
something ignorantly male.
"No, idiot. Here, I'll show you." She rolled off the bed
and took the two steps over to the table where I sat. She
took the curler from my hand and said, "Look up at me."
"Now, don't move. I don't want to poke you in the eye," she
cautioned as I turned my face up to her. I felt a slight
tug on my left eyelid for about five seconds then she moved
to the right eye. After another five seconds she said,
"Okay. Take a look."
I turned to the mirror and looked at my eyelashes now
sweeping up in a delicate curve. I could even feel them
tickling my brow.
"You know, you have really pretty eyes for a guy. Let's
have some fun," Carol said.
She opened one of the drawers on her vanity and started
rummaging through her makeup.
"What are you doing?" I asked. She had an impish smile on
her face that usually meant that things were about to get a
little out of hand. I'd seen that look before.
"I just want to see how pretty your eyes would look with a
little makeup," she said while opening an eye shadow
compact.
"You're kidding, right?"
"No. Now hold still and close your eyes."
I flinched a little when I felt the soft brush touch my
eyelid. She alternated back and forth between my eyes as
she blended the colors.
"I'm using some different shades of brown so that the green
in your eyes will really stand out," she said. "Now, I'm
going to be adding some eyeliner so don't move."
I held my head perfectly still as I felt the tiny brush
drawn across my eyelids. When she was through, I opened my
eyes and started to turn towards the mirror.
"Uh-uh, not yet," she said as she turned my face back to
hers. "No peeking until we're through. We've still got to
do your mascara."
I started to wonder why I was letting her do this. I was a
guy, for crying out loud. Why didn't I tell her to stop?
Oh, well. It's just the way I am with Carol. She leads and
I follow.
Carol had been brushing the mascara into my eyelids while
these thoughts were drifting through my mind. She stopped
and stepped back, looking at me appraisingly.
"Hmm, something's missing," she said to herself. That smile
came back on her face and she reached for her drawer again.
"Can I look, yet?" I asked.
"Not yet. The trouble is we can't just do your eyes. We
need to do your whole face to get the full effect." Carol
said.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Why, to see how you'd look as a girl, silly." she
answered.
There it was. The point where Carol went off the deep end
and I usually got dragged over the edge with her. All I
could do was hang on and hope for the best.
"Let me get this straight. First, you just wanted to see
how my eyes would look with a little makeup. Now, you want
to see how I'd look as a girl. What, do you want me to put
a dress on too?"
She just looked at me with that grin on her face and I knew
I was a goner.
"Carol, you've really lost it this time. I'm a seventeen
year old guy. There's no way you'll make me look like a
girl." I reasoned.
"I'll bet you'll look better than you could ever believe.
Don't be such a stick in the mud. Besides, it's just this
once. Humor me," she said.
"Every time you say that I get in trouble." I said.
She knew she had me. I was also getting a little curious
myself.
"Now, sit down and let me finish your makeup."
She then put a thin coat of foundation on me followed by
some blush. Then she picked up a tube of lipstick and
started to coat my lips.
"Well, now that we've got your makeup done, we need to do
something with your hair," she said.
My hair was almost shoulder length. I'd gotten my last
haircut in January and now it was June. It was a deal I had
with my parents. I keep my hair short for the first part of
school and through the holidays, and then I can do what
ever I want until school starts the next fall. So, this
year I had just decided to let it grow. I usually kept it
pulled back in a ponytail as it was now.
Carol pulled the rubber band from my hair and started
brushing it out.
"It's long enough for some curls but, I think you'd look
cute with bangs," she said.
"Hey! You're not going to cut my hair, are you? Don't you
think that's going a little overboard?" I asked.
"Don't worry. No one will be able to tell when you pull
your hair back again."
I was still a little nervous when she combed some of my
hair down in front of my face and clipped it off. Then she
was putting some hot rollers in my hair. I wondered when
she had turned them on and realized she'd known I'd let her
do this from the minute I let her put eye shadow on me.
"Okay. While we let your hair set, let's do something about
those clothes."
Now I was really getting nervous. It's one thing to play
around with makeup. It's something completely different to
wear girls' clothes. I had this picture in my head of all
the guys I knew calling me 'faggot' and 'queer'. But, at
the same time, I wasn't telling her no.
"Don't just sit there. Get undressed," Carol said, and
started rummaging through her drawers.
I took my shoes and socks off, unbuttoned my shirt and
slipped it off, then dropped my pants. I was standing there
in my boxers when Carol turned around and started to
giggle.
"Those will never do," she said as she handed me a pair of
panties. "Put these on."
While her back was turned, I stepped out of my boxers and
into the panties. They were white nylon briefs that forced
me to tuck my penis back to keep from spilling out all over
the place. I was amazed at how good they felt.
Carol turned around and looked at me.
"They look good on you." she smiled. "Hold your arms up."
With that she slipped a white lace bra on me and hooked it
in the back. Then she took some foam rubber breast forms
and slid them into the cups.
"Every girl I know has a set of these lying around
somewhere," she said.
I'm not really sure what I was thinking at this point. I
remember the feelings of the strange clothes; the odd
constriction of the bra and the silky softness of the
panties.
Carol then handed me a pair of pantyhose and explained how
to roll them up and then slide them up my legs. The hose
seemed to make what little hair I had disappear. It was a
little disconcerting that, with the hose on, there was no
sign of my maleness.
Then Carol handed me a white nylon slip and helped me get
it over the rollers in my hair. I had never felt anything
like that against my skin before.
Carol looked at my face and grinned.
"I think you're starting to enjoy this," she said.
I could feel my face turning red and stammered, "I uh,
guess so."
Boy, what did that say about me? Was I really enjoying this
or was it simply sensory overload?
I watched as she pulled a dress from her closet. It was a
simple plaid, cotton dress with a scooped neckline and a
flared skirt. I remembered seeing Carol wear it to school.
She helped pull it over my head and zipped it up the back.
I was kind of amazed it fit! I guess Carol and I are the
same size. That had never occurred to me before.
Then she gave me some wedge heeled pumps and I slipped them
on my feet. I guess my feet are bigger than Carols' because
the shoes were a little tight. Not uncomfortably so,
though.
Carol then led me back to her vanity and started taking the
rollers out of my hair. After a little brushing and some
hairspray she clipped some small gold earrings on my ears
and a gold chain around my neck.
"Well, are you ready for the unveiling," she asked?
I then realized that I hadn't seen my self in the mirror at
all and had no idea how I looked. Carol took me by the hand
and led me to stand in front of her full-length mirror.
I couldn't believe what I saw! There, staring back at me
with a dumbfounded look on her face, was a teenage girl!
Her beautiful green eyes stared out from her prettily made
up face. Her face was surrounded by soft curls and her
bangs seemed to caress her forehead. Her dress gave a
teasing hint of adolescent breasts, hugged her waist, and
flared out over her hips ending several inches above her
knees. Her hose gave her legs a soft sheen.
I started to turn and froze when the girl in the mirror
turned too! That was me! I was the girl in the mirror! How
was this possible? I was a guy! The image in the mirror
didn't agree with the image in my head! All I could do was
stare. Then I noticed that the girl in the mirror was
beaming at me with the most radiant smile I had ever seen.
"I take it that you're pleased with what you see." Carol
said.
"I-I can't believe it!" I stammered. "Is that really me?"
Smiling, Carol said, "I told you you wouldn't believe it."
"Who's this pretty thing?" the voice said from the doorway.
I whirled around to see my mother standing there in the
doorway. I froze! My heart leapt to my throat and put a
strangle hold on my voice.
She slowly walked into the room. I could feel her eyes
scrutinizing me from head to toe. Her face was blank. No
expression at all.
What could I do? What could I say? My mind had turned to
mush! I just stood there, frozen, while she walked around
me.
She stopped in front of me and looked at my face. I saw the
corners of her mouth twitch and the sparkle come to her
eyes as she tried to hide the smile trying to break out.
"Well, you've had a busy day," she said grinning.
I suddenly found my voice. "We were just kidding around and
Carol wanted to see how I'd look with some eye makeup and
then she had to do my hair because you can't tell with just
makeup and then she had me put on her dress and..." I was
gushing when she cut me off.
"Whoa, slow down. Take a deep breath and tell me from the
beginning," she said.
Carol did all the talking because I had lost my voice
again. She explained how it was her idea to see how I'd
look as a girl. It didn't mean anything. It was just a
harmless experiment.
Mom turned to me and said, "You make a very lovely girl."
The smile on her face let me know that everything was okay.
"Can you believe it, Mom? I actually look like a girl!"
"Tell me," she said, "how do you feel about wearing
lingerie and a dress?"
"Well, I've only had it on for a short time but I actually
kind of like it. Does that make me some kind of weirdo?"
"Nonsense," she said. "Being able to enjoy a new experience
makes you a pretty healthy person."
"I'm just so stunned!" I said. "I really had no idea I
could look like this! Not to mention all the new sensations
from the clothes. I know they're just clothes but they're
so different from anything I've ever worn before."
Mom said, "Women's clothing is designed not only to look
feminine but to feel feminine also."
"I certainly feel different."
"Well, I hate to break this up but, it's time for us to
go," she said.
For some reason I was really disappointed. I guess I just
didn't want it to end.
"Okay," I said dejectedly, "I'll get changed."
"Why?" Mom said. "I said we had to leave, I didn't say you
had to change."
"I can't leave looking like this. What if somebody sees
me?"
"Then they'll see a pretty teenage girl, not a boy. If I
didn't know you were my son, I'd swear you were one of
Carol's friends from school," Mom said. "Don't worry. No
one will be able to tell while you're in the car."
The next thing I knew, Carol had handed me my clothes and I
was walking out the front door. I jumped in the car and
slouched down in the seat.
"Sit up straight and smooth your skirt under you or it will
wrinkle," Mom said. "And stop worrying. If you act like
nothings wrong no one else will."
So, I smoothed my skirt under me and sat with my knees
together. Not because it was ladylike but I was just plain
nervous. I pulled down the sun visor hoping it would help
hide me. My fingers brushed over the vanity mirror and I
just couldn't resist. I had to get another look. I still
couldn't believe the girl in the mirror was me.
"The only thing people will see is exactly what you see in
that mirror; a pretty girl," Mom said.
As she drove I started to relax a little. No one was paying
any attention to me at all. I was fine until we turned into
our driveway and parked...behind my father's car. I must
have gone deathly pale because Mom was asking me what was
wrong.
"Dad!" I gasped. "I can't let him see me like this! He'll
think I'm some kind of pervert!" What the hell was I gonna'
do?
"Calm down! You're going to have a stroke! You let me worry
about your Dad. I want you to go straight to the kitchen
and wait there for me. Dad will be in the den checking his
e-mail so he won't see you. Besides, I don't think you're
giving your father enough credit."
All I wanted to do was run to my room and change but to do
that I'd have to pass through the den. Instead, I hurried
to the kitchen and hoped my mom could distract my dad long
enough for me to get to safety. After an eternity mom came
into the kitchen.
"Your dad wants to see you."
"What!? Are you crazy?" I thought I was going to faint!
"Take it easy! I explained everything to your father and
he's not upset. He just wants to see you."
"He's not mad at me?" I couldn't believe this.
"I think your father is a lot more understanding than you
know. Come on now, let's go on in."
She took my hand and led me down the short hallway to the
den. I was so scared and embarrassed that I couldn't look
at my father.
"Wow!"
What did he just say? I looked up to see my father smiling
at me!
"You look terrific! I-I had no idea! Your mom said you
looked nice but... wow!"
I just couldn't comprehend what he was saying so I began to
apologize.
"I'm sorry Dad! It was one of Carol's crazy ideas! I'm not
a queer!"
A little steel crept into my father's voice. "That term,
and others like it, is as unwelcome in this house as the
'n' word. I don't want to ever hear that from you again."
His voice softened immediately. "Now, come over here and
let me get a good look at you."
Somehow, my legs carried me over to stand in front of my
father.
"You really do look amazing."
I looked into my father's face and saw what I least
expected...understanding. He really wasn't mad! He looked
as befuddled as I did when I looked in the mirror for the
first time! He kept staring at me as if I were a long lost
relative or something. I didn't know what to say. Hell, I
couldn't say anything!
"Boy, when Carol does something she goes all the way
doesn't she?"
It struck me then that I wasn't in trouble!
"You're really not mad at me?"
"Mad? Why would I be mad?"
"Because, I look like a girl!"
"And what's wrong with that, I might ask?" said my mother.
My father started chuckling. "I think you've just insulted
your mother."
I felt the tension flowing out of my body but it was being
replaced with confusion.
"I don't understand. Why isn't either of you upset?"
My dad looked at my mom with some confusion of his own.
"Why should we be upset? You dressed up like a girl. What's
the big deal? Did you hurt anyone? No. Are you hurting
yourself? No. So, what's there to be upset about?"
"I-I guess I just didn't want you to think I was less of a
man or gay or something."
Now my dad took me by the shoulders. "Being gay doesn't
make you or anyone else less of a person. I don't like to
hear you say that and I certainly hope you don't believe
that. As for wearing a dress... I did it too."
If he hadn't been holding my arms I think I would have
fallen over. I almost did when he walked over to the
bookshelf and took down an old photo album.
"Come over here and let me show you something."
I walked over and sat next to him on the couch remembering
to smooth my skirt under me as I sat. He opened the album
and flipped through the pages to some old photos that I had
never seen before.
"Take a look at this picture and tell me what you see."
I looked at the photo of two women and immediately
recognized my mother. This must have been taken back during
her collage days because they were both in sixties
miniskirts and go-go boots. Then I realized that the other
women bore a striking resemblance to my father. It could
have been his sister. Only, he didn't have a sister!
"That's right. I'm the one standing next to your mother."
I couldn't believe what I was seeing! That was my dad! In
the photo, he looked as pretty and feminine as my mother. I
asked if this was some kind of Halloween get-up or
something.
"Well," he answered, "The first time I did it was for
Halloween."
"The first time? You mean you did it more than once?"
My dad looked at my mom and I saw her give him a nod.
"I'll explain everything but you have to promise to let me
finish my story before you say anything. Deal?"
I was more confused than ever but I said, "Sure."
"It was our junior year in college. You mother and I were
already engaged but had no plans to marry until we had both
finished school and had jobs. Back then, even though it was
the late sixties, there wasn't as much partying on college
campuses as there is now. The first really big blowout was
the Halloween party thrown by the Greek houses. Neither
your mom nor I belonged to a house but we had both been
invited to the party. Of course, it was a costume party.
Now, funds were pretty tight for both of us so renting
costumes or having something made was just out of the
question. We spent a lot of time discussing and rejecting
ideas. One day, your mom came up with the idea of dressing
me up as a girl. I laughed it off, told her she was crazy,
and completely forgot about it. For the next few days
though, I'd sometimes catch her looking at me in this
strange way. Three days before the party I had settled for
just going in a 'toga' like everyone else who didn't have
money for a costume. Hey, who needed money? Just wrap a
sheet around you and voila, instant toga. That night your
mom shows up at my apartment with a suitcase. I thought she
was leaving school or something.
"When I finally calmed down and was assured she wasn't in
any kind of trouble she dropped her little bombshell. We
were both going to the party as 'Go-Go Girls'. I told her
she was crazy, again, and that I wouldn't do anything to
humiliate myself. She asked if I'd be willing to give it a
try and that if I didn't like the way I looked I didn't
have to do it. To humor her, I said I'd give it a try but I
didn't want her mad at me when it didn't work. The next
thing I knew I was standing there in a miniskirt and go-go
boots. When I looked in the mirror I was astounded. I
really couldn't believe how feminine I looked. About that
time, my roommate walked in. He said hi to your mom and
asked where I was. Then he came over and introduced himself
to me! He had no idea!
"Well, to make a long story short, we went to the party
dressed to the nines in our miniskirts, tight sweaters, and
go-go boots. I even shaved my legs for the occasion. The
weird thing was... nobody knew I was a guy! Everyone
thought I was a girl! So, that night I got to see how the
other half lives. Your mom told everyone I was a friend of
hers from back home. When they asked where I was she told
them I had come down with the flu. I spent that evening in
a kind of shock. I was treated just like any of the other
girls there. The guys were falling all over themselves to
get our attention. I had doors opened for me, my chair
pulled out, and I never had to refill my drink the entire
evening.
"The girls treated me like I was one of their own. I had to
talk about fashion and women's rights and even got asked if
I had a boyfriend! Well, it really was an eye opening
evening for me.
"I had to admit to your mom that I had a great time. Then I
stuck my foot in my mouth and said something stupid. I
said, 'Women had it easy.' Your mom hit the roof! She let
me have it with both barrels. How could I make any kind of
judgment on women after only one night in their shoes? How
dare I think that one stupid party could give me any
insight on what it was like to be a woman? And she was
right! I really didn't know anything about women. That
little tirade got me to thinking.
"What was it like to be a woman? Not just dressing as a
woman but living as a woman. I thought about it for a long
time before I mentioned anything to your mom. I couldn't
stop thinking about it. A few weeks after the holidays I
told your mother about an idea I had. I wanted her to help
me live as a woman over the summer. I knew I could get a
hell of a sociology paper out of the experiment but, in
reality, it was just to satisfy my own curiosity. I was
perfectly honest with her. I told her that my experience at
the Halloween party had me determined to find out what it
was like to be a woman. She thought about for a few days
then agreed. She thought it would be a lesson I'd never
forget and would enrich our married life.
"We started making plans and I started practicing. We only
had a couple of months to get ready. If we were going to
pull this off, no one could know I wasn't a woman. Every
free minute we had she was teaching me something about
being a woman. How to stand, how to sit, walk, talk, eat,
dress you name it. I let my hair grow even longer. I
started dieting. Before I knew it, I was going out as a
girl on the weekends. We'd go to dinner or a movie or
shopping. Fake ID's were easy to get back then and I had
one that was female.
"As much as I learned in those few months it was nothing
compared to what I was about to learn.
"When the semester ended I moved in with your mom. She told
her roommate that a friend was coming up to work over the
summer and wanted to share the apartment. So, I moved into
her bedroom. Now your mom and I weren't celibates but we
agreed that for this to work, I needed to live completely
as a woman. So, we would just be roommates and nothing
more. I put all my male stuff in storage and started my
life as Shelly. I got a job in a bookstore where everyone
only knew me as Shelly. I had to wear a dress or a skirt
and hose everyday to work. Even if I wanted to quit I
couldn't. I had given the key to the storage locker to your
mom and she had hidden it away.
"To become male again I would have to go shopping as a
female and then buy men's clothes and find somewhere to
change. Your mom wouldn't let me back into the apartment as
a male. But I didn't want to quit. I was really having the
time of my life. I felt like I was learning how to live in
a completely different culture. In a way, I was. Life is
very different for a woman. There's the struggle to be
strong and independent when the whole of society is telling
you to be exactly the opposite. 'Be pretty.' 'Be nice.' 'Be
submissive.' 'Get married.' 'Have babies.' 'Don't be too
smart...men don't like smart women.' The list goes on and
on and it was worse back then!
"But there are some advantages too. Women are freer to
express their emotions than men. Friendships are made on a
much deeper level. In fact, most relationships women have
are more intimate, more intense. I have never regretted
those few months I lived as a woman and, in fact, cherish
them. It literally changed my life."
I sat there stunned. I didn't know what to say. My dad had
lived as a woman for a time.
"Honey," my mom said, "I know this is a little shocking but
believe me when I say that living as a woman made your
father the finest man I've ever known. He has an insight
that most men don't. Because of those few months our
marriage has been unbelievable. There isn't a day that goes
by that your father doesn't show me how much he loves and
respects me. We have a true partnership. I couldn't ever
consider life without him. He's my knight in shining armor
and best friend all rolled into one."
I sat there for a few minutes trying to consider everything
I'd just heard. It suddenly occurred to me that I was
sitting there in a dress. I had completely forgotten my own
situation. What I did know was that no matter how I was
dressed or how I looked I was loved. I leaned over and
hugged my dad.
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