Darlene's Wedding free porn video

Darlene's Wedding By Ricky Don... Ah the lunchroom. The camaraderie, the pleasant conversation, the sophisticated repartee, the ever present smell of cutting fluid and hot metal that pervades any machine shop. And don't forget the misogyny, profanity, and homophobia. Really, it's not that bad, at least I don't have to put up with the smokers since the county banned smoking indoors. Actually, I kind of like the ambience of the lunchroom most of the time. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those times. About halfway through the lunch break, Cliff spotted an item about how gays can now be legally married in Canada and he was holding forth with a loud, incoherent, full throttle diatribe. Now most days I would have tuned him out. Cliff is an asshole, but even assholes can be good machinists. The latest problem I had been having with Cliff was getting him to accept the new technology the company was adopting for controlling the big machines. I sometimes think it takes an act of the very God Cliff was invoking to convince him that hitting a part with a hammer was preferable to beating on it with his thick skull. Whenever anything changed, his comments usually started with "If God had intended men to..." I had spent most of the morning converting his machine to the new programming language the company had adopted, and it hadn't been easy. Sometimes I wish I had remained a simple machinist and let someone else have the headaches, but I got along very well with computers and had gradually become the "NC maven" for the company. That's Numerical Control for those of you who care; that's what the computers that run most fabricating machines are called. So I had spent the last few hours listening to Cliff bitch while I worked on his machine, which makes concentration difficult. My digestion wasn't the best as a result, so when Cliff kept running at the mouth something snapped. "Jesus, Cliff. What's so fucking bad about having two brides at a wedding? You afraid one of 'em might throw the bouquet at you and you'd have to make an honest woman out of some poor gal? Or would it be an honest man?" "You can take that bunch of posies and stuff it up your goddam ass, Don. I ain't going to have nothing to do with any fucking fairies who want to...." He was off and running again. "Christ, Cliff. If you're going to treat those flowers like that, then I just won't ask you to be my maid of honor when I marry Jenny. I'm disappointed; you would have looked so luscious in lavender." That got the group going and Cliff had a hard time getting a word in edgewise. I have to admit I was taking a chance, but I was still annoyed enough with Cliff that I couldn't resist. One of the best parts of being a crossdresser is when you can say something perfectly outrageous and perfectly true but no one will believe it. "Hey Don! Can I be the flower girl?" That was Jimmy, he's about 5'2 and wouldn't outweigh a bag of cement soaking wet. Rather than get defensive about his small stature he makes it into a joke. Actually, he would look pretty cute in one of those frilly white outfits a flower girl would wear. Jimmy and I were pretty good friends at work, but the friendship didn't really leave the plant. If he was one of my "sisters," he had never given so much as a hint. "Sure Jimmy. You any good at flinging rose petals?" "He's only good for flinging shit. Just like you, Don." Cliff has a hard time appreciating a joke. "Jeez, Cliff," chimed in Sammy. "What's it to you if Don wants to get married in a dress? What's got your tits in a wringer?" Sammy is often the "voice of reason" but his tone this time was calculated to keep Cliff going. "Some people like to dress up a bit when they get out of this place with all the oil and crud. Something with a plunging neckline and a long train would be very flattering for you, Don." His face was absolutely straight as he spoke. "You know, I was really thinking of a Victorian collar and lots of lace. Nice, long puffy sleeves to hide my tattoos, and a bustle. Nobody wears bustles any more and I want to revive the old fashion trend. I bet I could program the new system to make a really fancy bustle, the thing is really flexible. Would you make me a bustle for my wedding dress, Cliff? Please?" "If he won't I will!" "Ya know, if we punch a lot of really little holes in that new plastic stock we could make a great veil for your dress, Don." If it's gonna be Victorian, you're gonna need a corset. We got enough spring steel that we could supply you with the best!" "What would you know from corsets, Charlie?" "I know they're damn hard to get off but it's a lot of fun trying. Kinda like opening a birthday present." "You don't want no birthday present, you want her birthday suit!" "So this is a problem?" The guys were really getting into this, and with each suggestion poor Cliff's face suffused with a deeper shade of red. He was approaching indigo when he couldn't take any more. "What are you, all a bunch of fucking faggot assholes? It ain't goddam natural, you fucking well know he ain't gonna fucking walk down the aisle in no goddam dress!" "So who's going to stop me if I want to?" "You think this is funny - don't you, asshole? That broad of yours would kick your sorry butt out of her life the moment you pulled shit like that." "You wrong my beloved, Cliff. Jenny has very good fashion sense. I never buy a dress without consulting her. She tells me she's found me a wedding dress that suits my natural aura and innate vibrations." I flatter myself that I do a pretty good Valley Girl impression. The rest of the guys must have thought it was good enough, because they were practically rolling on the floor. I really had Cliff going! "Jesus, a fucking New Age fucking fairy. Alright, asshole. I got five big ones says there's no way you got the nerve. You and your fucking aura are gonna wear a tuxedo like any man when you get married." It was at that moment when a sense of complete peace enveloped my mind and body. Ever since my mother remarried I had been debating with myself about a two bride ceremony with Jenny. Jenny was amenable, as were my mother and sister. For that matter, both of our families knew of my crossdressing. Jenny's dad had been hard to convince at first, and maybe it would take a concerted diplomatic effort to convince him we should both wear dresses, but after all, I was marrying a woman who made her living negotiating difficult issues. The problem was I still had a fair number of friends who had no inkling of Darlene's existence, and I wasn't quite ready to go that public. This was doubly true for the guys I worked with. Trade workers don't tend to liberal attitudes and unquestioning acceptance of alternate lifestyles, an understatement if there ever was one. Now, courtesy of the Canadian court system, I had been handed my deepest desire with the perfect cover story, and it was the biggest homophobe of the bunch that was pressing the idea. "Okay Clifford, you old dog, you're on. Your generous contribution to our honeymoon will be greatly appreciated. I nominate Jimmy to hold the stakes and all of you are invited to the wedding to judge the winner. If Jenny hasn't kicked my sorry butt by the time our first dance is over then I win." "Done, asshole. I'll have my stake tomorrow morning." "Want to sweeten the deal, Cliffie baby?" He hates to be called Cliffie. "If I get your machine done by two o'clock this afternoon, you have to dance with me as soon as I finish that first dance with Jenny. If I lose, you get to dance with Jenny." I somehow forgot to tell him I had already finished the job and just had to button up the last loose ends. "You just better hope she won't kick your sorry butt after she dances with me. This may be the shortest marriage in history, buddy." The bell started ringing just at that point, before either one of us could get ourselves in any deeper. Sometimes blind, mechanical rules and regulations are a blessing. Jenny... "Kewel! Utterly kewel!" There's nothing like the enthusiasm of a teenager, and in this case the teenager was my niece Kathy. The enthusiasm was for the house Don and I had bought. After years of apartment living, with the last few months sharing a place, we decided to buy a house together. Trying to fit two makeup tables and three wardrobes into a standard apartment bedroom just wasn't practical. I know, the conventional wisdom is to fall in love, get married, buy a house, and then spend your time in the bedroom together, but we started with the bedroom, had worked our way around to the house, and figured the getting married part could wait until summer, since I wanted nice weather for the wedding. As for the love part, it just sort of happened somewhere along the way. We had found a lovely old home in the city, the beautiful woodwork still unpainted and intact. The electrical and plumbing had been modernized, and with a little work (according to Don, anyway) we could merge two of the bedrooms into one huge master bedroom with closets big enough for me, Don, and Darlene. Somehow I wouldn't consider removing walls and adding a private bathroom to be a 'little' work, but Don assured me that in a couple of weeks he could have it done. My intended was brimming with macho energy to make room for his feminine side. Go figure. Kathy stopped her impromptu dance as a great crash sounded from above our heads and little bits of dust showered from the ceiling. This was followed by a muffled martial arts yell of "Hai-yah!" and another crash, this one accompanied by many small subsidiary cracks and plops. "Sounds like Uncle Don is practicing his karate upstairs, Aunt Jenny." "Probably ramming his thick skull through the plaster to prove he still has testosterone in his bloodstream when he isn't wearing a dress." I headed for the stairs, a beautiful creation of rods and balls holding up a stair rail that simply invited you to slide down its polished length. "Grab your shovel, kid. We get to clean up the mess." I winced at the pile of plaster on the polished wood of the floors, but was relieved to see it was covered with a layer of protective plastic. The dividing wall between the two bedrooms had been denuded of its plaster, exposing the wooden lath beneath. As we entered, Don swung a huge crowbar and ripped off a section of lath, creating yet more dust in the room. As the wood crackled and split, he noticed us and laid the bar against the wall. He looked like an alien for some movie, with a bulbous nose protruding between the filters of his dust mask. His heavy breathing through the mask brought Darth Vader to mind. At the moment I was having a hard time picturing this person as the handsome woman I knew Darlene to be, but I suppose if anyone was looking at me at the moment they would have had similar thoughts. Today I was the one doing the crossdressing. Ragged jeans, faded oversized work shirt, thick gloves, and heavy boots were not my usual go-to- meeting clothes, but I had been warned about the mess of construction. "Hi, Uncle Don! Can I beat on the walls, too? Looks like fun." Handing her the crowbar, he said, "Go to it, Kathy. There's no more destructive force in this world than a teenager." I suspect she stuck out her tongue at him, but since we had both prudently donned air masks before entering, I couldn't be sure. While Kathy struck a blow for teenagers everywhere, we hugged awkwardly. Hard to kiss in a mask, for sure. Despite her enthusiasm, it was clear that Don's experience and larger body was better suited to the job. After a few minutes, she returned the crowbar and we started shoveling debris out the window and into the dumpster below. I was glad of the gloves because the ancient wood lath was rife with splinters. Kathy and I escaped with only a few minor pokes, but poor Don tripped and went down on his butt. He winced as he plucked the offending chunk of wood from his behind. By the time lunchtime rolled around, I had a new appreciation for the construction workers I have spent my life trying to organize. This was hard, sweaty, uncomfortable work to be sure, but there was a certain satisfaction in watching the wall disappear. I had to laugh whenever my intended bent over, because the red frills of his panties peeked out from his rough work clothing. By that time, I was wishing I could dispense with my bra, because the sweat had thoroughly soaked it, and each time I moved I felt it's clammy embrace on my breasts. The occasional cool breeze from the open window was most welcome. This was one of the times I questioned Don's sanity for wanting to wear a bra when he didn't actually need to. As I tossed the last piece of wood out the window I was beginning to see how our bedroom would look when it was finished. In one corner of the suddenly larger room the shower, sink, and toilet looked out of place. The new bathroom walls were not yet erected, but I could picture the finished product more clearly now. After lunch I gained a much greater appreciation of construction work. Tearing things down is easy, putting them up is a lot harder. With Don patiently advising us, Kathy and I helped to build the new walls. I realize that Don could probably have done the work in a fraction of the time it took Kathy and me (certainly with a fraction of the mistakes!), but I was determined to help with turning our new house into a home. At three PM, the framing was done and we quit for the day; we had an appointment at the bridal shop. We, as in both of us, and we were not going to be very welcome there in our current dusty condition. Don had called it the oldest joke in the crossdresser's lexicon, having to wear a dress because of a bet, but I didn't care. My wonderful mate would be able to realize the dream that meant so much to him, and that was a very good way to start off a marriage. Don... On the way back home, I couldn't help but notice the stabbing pain in my backside; it was impossible to sit comfortably in the car. By the time we got home, there was no help for it. I had to ask Jenny to take a look because there was no way I could remove them myself. So with red face I made my request, gingerly removing my panties and assuming a most undignified position over the side of our bed, butt high in the air. She pulled the offending pieces of wood from my rear and then cursed, "Damn, there's still some in there!" Just what I wanted to hear. With a chuckle she said, "I hope you're into S&M, because I'm going to have to take a needle to your tush." I lay there waiting and heard the refrigerator door open, Jenny getting some ice from the kitchen. She numbed my buttocks with the ice and started her surgery, which I will not describe. It was soon over and I could feel the now warm water dripping down my ass and balls from the melted ice cube. I rested there a moment longer and felt a pair of warm lips kiss my cold and bruised bottom and, with a low and sexy voice, Jenny promised to make it all better. I lay there dazed as she covered my rear with kisses. Soon her fingers were caressing my scrotum as it hung down the side of the bed, nails lightly running over my dangling sack. My cock began to harden as she kissed my ass with abandon, but I was stopped by the unyielding mattress I was slung over. Soon her fingers began to trace their way up the crack of my ass, slowly working deeper into my back door as she continued to kiss my wounded buttocks passionately. As her finger strayed over my asshole, I began to moan, and she started to talk to me as she played with my body. "You like that, don't you?" she purred. "You like me kissing your butt, you like my finger on your ass, don't you?" I moaned with pleasure and just wiggled my ass in the air. Reaching into the bedstead, she pulled out a tube of lubricant and began to grease my asshole. She started slowly and gently, sliding just the tip of her finger in. I could feel my sphincter parting, feel the warmth penetrate me and then slide out. With each stroke she drove deeper into my back door, driving my swollen prick against the bedclothes. Soon her finger was buried in my ass and I could feel her wiggling it deep in my body. I was in heaven; she was still covering my butt with kisses as she finger fucked my ass. I soon became looser and she began to purr and asked me, "Do you like that? Do you want more?" I did, but all I could do was grunt something that sounded like "yes!" Suddenly I felt an intense sensation on my balls as she ran one of the ice cubes down my dangling sack. Soon she was sliding the ice all over my ass, following the cold trail with her warm lips. The contrast was incredible and I couldn't believe how good it felt. As the now much shrunken ice cube passed over my asshole she slid it in, quickly followed by a butt plug. Spreading my cheeks, she began to slowly insert it up my rectum, and I felt my iced ass being stretched again. As she slowly slid it deeper into me, I could feel the ice cube move deeper into my body. She began to play with my balls again, tickling and teasing as my ass was filled with delight. With a shock, the plug slid home and she began to wiggle the protruding end as she continued to play with my balls. Glory, what a feeling. Suddenly she stood and climbed over my shoulders onto the bed. Spreading her legs, she wiggled her steaming crotch toward me as I lay there. I could feel the plug in my ass as I lifted my head, covering her waiting slit with my tongue. She was dripping wet and ready for release, but I worked slowly, blowing through her curly cunt hair, lightly brushing her sex but not penetrating that steaming bush. Not yet. I kissed her thighs, teased with my tongue around her bush, and at last began to work my way through the tangle of hair to her womanhood. My tongue slid freely over her pussy lips, I could feel the folds of her willing flesh as I drew my tongue up and down her slit. Each time I caressed her clit I heard her draw in her breath. I could feel the wetness drip from her snatch, smell the musky sent of a woman in heat and taste the juices that were flowing copiously from her pussy. With each movement, I felt the plug in my ass move, and it drove me into a frenzy. By now she was pumping her crotch into my face, crying out with incoherent pleasure as I ate her clit and sucked deeply on her slit. With a scream, I felt her rise in orgasm, and we held that position for a few moments until Jenny pulled me forward and spun me around. She leaped on my poor neglected prick and began to ride up and down like a cowgirl. I could see her lovely tits bounce high into the air as she impaled herself on my manhood and felt her juices pour over my crotch. I didn't have to do anything, I just lay there and let this madwoman drive my cock deep into her, listening to her moan and cry with pleasure. I soon felt my balls tighten and began to pump my cum into her as she kept bouncing on my pole. My cries brought her over the edge once more; as I felt my prick begin to shrink within her she came just in time, twisting her ass into my crotch, grabbing my body for support as her orgasm flooded over her. Much as I would have loved to lay there for the next few hours, we had an appointment to keep, and I suspected the shop owner would not appreciate it if we arrived covered in old house dirt with channels of our love juices streaking it. "Up, my love. Rise and attend to your bath so that we may away!" "Sounds Shakespearean, darling, and I do enjoy how you shake your spear. Give me a few minutes and I'll think of a good quote, right now I'm a little distracted." "Good, that means I can go first." I gently disengaged her from me and attended to my bath. Jenny... I let Don go first, after all it takes him more time to make himself beautiful than most ordinary women. The strains of "Camelot" rose above the hot water as my beloved sluiced the dirt off his body, to be replaced by a hummed version of the Wedding March as he shaved while I showered. By the time I got to the bedroom he was wearing white panties and was applying surgical tape across his chest. "I still wince every time you do that. It's got to be terrible when you take it off!" "One does not become beautiful without sacrifice, my dear. A proper bride must show just enough cleavage to make those watching her walk down the aisle have a lascivious thought or two." Patting the tape down, he settled a plain white bra into place. "I'll snap you if you snap me." "Darn, I should have brought the towel with me!" I did up the hooks on his bra. "My, but you're colorless today, how unusual." "A bride is properly assumed to be virginal despite any evidence to the contrary. I am honoring tradition by vesting myself in virginal white for my fitting today." "Where's my mask? The air's getting a little thick in here, don't you think?" "It's traditional for the bride to wear a veil on her face, not a mask. However, if our beloved Department of Homeland Security raises the alert above Orange you may wear a gas mask during the ceremony if you wish." "Does that mean we need to have a bomb detector at the door of the church? I'm not sure God would approve." "God won't object. However the minister...." "I think taxing her liberal nature with a two bride ceremony is sufficient." "Perhaps you're right. In any case, I shall wear a demure, but lacy, white brassiere when we tie the knot. Can we get a discount if we buy two of everything?" "Not if we're late for the fitting. Quit talking and put your falsies in while I get dressed." "Yes ma'am! Will you be this bossy when we're married?" "Certainly. Someone has to be the man in this relationship. Ouch! That wasn't very ladylike!" "I thought you were taking the man's role. Not tough enough to take a pinch on the ass?" "Enough, I surrender. I really like that dress on you. "Thank you, I rather favor it myself. A lovely lady of my acquaintance gave it to me. I thought Cliff would burst a gusset when I told him you pick out my dresses for me." "I never thought I'd approve of anything Cliff did, but since he finally convinced you to live your dream I have to thank him." "Wait until he has to dance with me at the reception before you do. I wouldn't want to scare him off. Shall we go?" "We shall, just as soon as I have shoes on my feet." DARLENE'S PETITION TO DON'S BRAIN WHEREAS you have been a crossdresser for many years and; WHEREAS you routinely appear in public without being read and; WHEREAS you customarily enter women's dressing rooms to try on new dresses without problems and; WHEREAS your sister Bernice told you that Sandy's bridal shop was the soul of discretion when she bought a wedding dress and; WHEREAS Bernice is 6'3 and weighs 300 pounds and; WHEREAS the woman you love approves of what you're doing BE IT THEREFORE RESOLVED: You will not choke, freeze, suffer shortness of breath, lose your feminine voice or otherwise panic when you look for your own wedding dress. Don... I parked the car in front of the big glass window, the one that contained a mannequin in a lovely, full wedding gown, complete with bouquet. I turned off the motor, swung my legs from the car in a ladylike manner, and waited for Jenny to meet me in front of the car. I walked to the door, refrained at the last second from opening it for her as a gentleman would and entered the store. A small woman with a big head of hair glanced at us and a perky smile lit her face. Then I panicked. "- - - - - ," I said. "May I help you ladies?" she asked. "- - - - - , " I repeated. "We have an appointment to look at dresses." Jenny to the rescue. "Of course. You must be Jenny and Darlene. Please, have a seat and let's see what we can do." She waved at a table with several chairs around it. By the time we had seated ourselves and I had stirred some cream in my coffee, the panic had passed, to be replaced by a growing excitement. "Now," she continued, "I understand this will be a two bride ceremony." We both agreed. "Then let's start with the basics. Do you both want to have the same style of gown or will you be wanting something individual?" "I'm not sure," answered Jenny. "It would be kind of fun to match, but we have such different body types; I'm not sure we could find one style that flatters us both." "I think that would be a wise choice, dear. We can tie elements of each dress together, but still provide an individual look for each of you. I would suggest a ball gown silhouette, since it will flatter both of you. A nice, full skirt will help minimize the height difference between you. Darlene, I'm afraid I need to get rather personal with you. Do you use attachable breast forms or will you need a full brassiere?" Funny how she had no doubt which one was the male in sheep's clothing. "I've been thinking about getting an attachable pair, but under the circumstances, I think I should be wearing a conventional bra. I think a more matronly look is preferable to sexy. Sometimes it's fun to show a little cleavage, but it is rather constricting and I would rather not have that distraction when we get married." "I think I see. May I complement you on your appearance? Your outfit is quite suitable for your age and body type. I don't think I would have guessed you are a man if I had passed you on the street. You certainly don't look 'matronly' to my eye. "Thank you." "You've anticipated my Bride 101 lecture, Darlene. You're going to be wearing your gown for a considerable length of time, dancing in it, socializing in it, and trying not to spoil it in a madhouse of food and drink. I want you to think very seriously about comfort. I have heard too many stories of tired and cranky brides who didn't realize how difficult high heels and extravagant gowns can be. Believe me, we can find a very flattering style that will make your wedding day a pleasure, not an endurance contest." "Now Jenny, normally I would suggest a strapless style for your figure, but since Darlene will be wearing full bodice you should too. I would think a scoop neckline for you and something more square for Darlene, perhaps a bateau. I don't mean to get too personal, Darlene, but may I see your bare arms?" I raised the loose, flowing sleeves of my dress. "I'm afraid I have a bit more muscle mass than most women." "Please, don't be embarrassed, dear. You do have large shoulders and upper arms, but I think you should be able to carry off a three quarter sleeve. Now that we have some idea of what we should be looking for it's time for the fun part. Darlene, I think I have something you will enjoy trying on over here. Have you ever actually tried on a bridal gown? I don't think I'm all that different than most crossdressers, but as much as I have thought of it I never actually had the bravado to do it. Shopping for regular dresses is really pretty simple. They hang there on racks and you wander about and look them over. The salesladies (if you can find a live person in most big stores these days) don't pay you much attention, even in male mode. If you have the nerve and the figure you can even take one into the dressing room and try it on, no human interaction needed. Not so with a bridal gown. You find them mostly in little shops with very solicitous and knowledgeable people ready to guide you through every step, just as Sandy had just done. If I could suffer a panic attack entering Sandy's door, just think how daunting it would be for one of my deeply closeted sisters. Some adventures will remain as dreams to many. By the time we were through discussing styles, I was feeling very relaxed and secure. The first gown Shelly showed me had an intricately pleated bodice and high neckline, but something about it wasn't quite right. Perhaps the vertical pleats emphasized my height a bit too much. While my choices were somewhat limited by my size, Shelly knew that brides come in all sizes and there was no shortage of samples to try on. There's something else I hadn't considered, most of those gowns took help to put on correctly, so Shirley and Theresa soon saw me in my lacy white bra and panties. A gentle smile crossed Shelly's face the first time, but she treated me as if I were as feminine as she, without the slightest trace of disapproval. I was soon completely comfortable with both of them as we tried on dress after dress. Actually seeing the dress on your body helps, I was able to see just what flattered me and what didn't. By the end of the evening both Jenny and I had a pretty good idea of what we wanted, so we sat down and paged through the various collections until we were satisfied. The orders were placed (Cliff's $500 would be greatly appreciated!) and Shelly kissed us goodbye as if we were long time friends. I was floating on a cloud by the time we got back into the car, and so was Jenny. What a delightful experience! Don... "Hey Don, got a minute to talk?" asked Jimmy. "Sure Jimmy, c'mon in. I think there's a chair under the pile of crap over there." No one has ever accused me of keeping my little cubbyhole neat. Computerization had rather snuck up on the company and my work area, a bench set aside in the corner of the shop, had grown haphazardly as the work increased. A few years back, someone had slapped up a couple of walls around my mess so I had a place to hang things, thus I now had an office. Ah, the perquisites of power! "Don - that bet with Cliff. You really going to do it?" "I'm really going to do it, Jimmy." "I thought so. Look Don, it's none of my business but a few months back I saw Jenny in the mall with a woman who could have been your sister. I didn't say anything because at the time I was looking a lot like my own sister. What I'm trying to say is that I can understand why you'd want to be a bride even if it there wasn't a bet involved. If I'm wrong I'll just shut up and leave." I guess I should have been expecting it when I made the decision to come out for the wedding, but I really hadn't thought it through all the way. I suppose some part of me was hoping I could get away with blaming one public appearance on the bet and then everyone would conveniently forget about it and I could keep Darlene in some back room when her presence was inconvenient. The feeling in my stomach was somewhere between that of a kid with his hand in the cookie jar and sitting in front of an IRS agent with a big frown on her face. I took a deep breath. "I go by the name Darlene when Jenny and I cruise the malls, Jimmy." "Whew! I guess you know how hard it is to talk about being a crossdresser, but I had to say something. I go by Jantina; my family's Dutch and I always loved the name." "Pretty name. I always thought you would make a good looking woman if you were so inclined, but I didn't have the nerve to even mention the subject. I guess I'm a little jealous, but you work with the body you got." "I would have gladly traded in this body most of the time I was growing up. You have no idea how hard it is to be the smallest guy in school or the Little League or anyplace else. No matter how good you are, most people think being short means you're never going to do things right. Hell, I was almost 18 before I had my first date, girls just wouldn't take me seriously. These days I thank my lucky stars for my body. I still get some pretty strange looks as a man, but no one looks twice at Jantina. "I never thought about it before, but I can see the problem. Me, I'm always having to make myself look smaller and more feminine. You wouldn't believe how hard it was to find a wedding gown that didn't make me look like a man in a dress. I never felt so big and clunky as I did last night when we were at the bridal shop." "I guess we all got problems, just different ones. Don?" he hesitated. "Yeah?" "What made you come out? Until I saw you with Jenny I hadn't a clue you might be a 'sister.' I've been thinking about it a lot lately, but after the scene when my ex found out, I never had the nerve. It was a lot of years before I found someone who could love me, and you can be sure I told her about Jantina when we started to get serious. I guess Jenny must be okay with you in a dress, but what about the rest of your family? Did they freak out?" I surprised him by laughing. "Jimmy, my sister June started dressing me up before I was old enough to remember. My mom thought it was cute when I was a kid, and when she became a feminist she thought it was liberating for me. Would you believe my sister has her husband dressing up too? They're both actors and he claims it was just practice for playing Tootsie, but if I know June, they're going to need a lot more closet space from now on. He was even a bridesmaid when mom remarried last year and no one twigged that June's friend from Chicago was really her husband. It hurt a lot that I couldn't be a bridesmaid for mom without stealing the show at her wedding." "Yeah, I guess we all dream of being bridesmaids or brides sometime in our lives. I'm glad you decided to actually do it. Maybe someday it'll be my turn." "Jimmy, if you want to, I could use another bridesmaid." "Thank you, Don. I'm honored but I'm not sure I'm ready yet." "Well, you did offer to be the flower girl. I could start something with Cliff and get him to expand the bet to include you. Wouldn't you like to see his face when the both of us walk down the aisle in dresses and carrying flowers?" "You are an evil man, Don. If you can do it, I'll play along. I leave my fate in your hands, 'sister'." "Not in my hands, Jantina. In Jenny's. Charlene, Jenny's mom... My mother, may she rest in peace, often told the story of how I came into the kitchen one day with my sister Betty. I was about two years old and had my arm wrapped around her neck, she had a blue tinge to her chubby cheeks and I was practically dragging her along with me. I cheerfully announced "See Mommy, I can carry Betty!" Right now, I was wishing I had finished the job. I briefly considered completing it in, say, the next few minutes. As a woman, I felt 'justifiable homicide' or maybe even 'self defense' might be acceptable explanations, but as a lawyer I really wouldn't have wanted to take the case. The cause of this little daydream was the guest list for the bridal shower. When I had allowed my darling sister to badger me into hosting it with her I simply didn't realize just how delicate it would be to ask the world to greet two brides at once. I dearly love my daughter Jenny, and I have come to appreciate her true love as both Don or Darlene, but it has been a trial. Having a psychiatrist for a sister helps in times of great stress, and without Betty's wisdom and advice I fear I might have reacted badly and lost both my daughter and her love. Be that as it may, I was wishing my daughter had chosen a mate who's eccentricities did not show on the surface. I was just plain scared at telling the world about it. Then there was the issue of inviting Darlene's friends to the shower. After all, one couldn't properly slight one of the brides, but having several crossdressers included in the guest list made me nervous. Betty had once again reassured me that the world was far more accepting of individual differences than when we had gotten married a generation ago. "That's fine for you to say, Betty, but it's not you that has to announce to your professional colleagues that your daughter's marrying a crossdresser." "Charlene, my professional colleagues would line up for the chance to meet Darlene. Just be glad she is one of those rare crossdressers that look good as a woman. My usual clients have physical challenges that are hard to overcome." "I have no doubt, darling sister, but not too long ago my professional colleagues would have lined up for a chance to prosecute her for public indecency or whatever obscure blue law they could find still on the books." "So don't invite anyone from the DA's office. You have any friends in the Vice Squad? "You're a lot of help." "That's what sisters are for. Really Charlene, if it's going to be such a problem then perhaps we should cancel the shower or let one of Jenny's friends do it." "No, I'm just having an attack of middle class angst. Jenny and Don have clearly made the decision to make Darlene a part of their lives and we're going to have to live with that. As you keep telling me, we are not responsible for the actions of others. If I want to have a happy family then I will have to accept Darlene as part of it, even when outsiders are present." "Be careful, sister. If more people were that sensible I'd be out of a job. "Tough. I wouldn't mind if all you damned shrinks became unemployed. Just think - I'd never have to question an 'expert witness' again." "You wound me!" "You're a doctor. Heal thyself! I suppose we need to respect their wishes and not hide Darlene. Besides, I wouldn't want people to think Harry was running around with a younger woman when he and Darlene go fishing at the cabin together." "Enough soul searching, sister...we have a party to plan. Let's start with the Judges, then the lawyers and politicians. We'll consider the peons like Jenny's friends next and save Darlene's 'sisters' for last. "How are we going to hold a party with such an insane mix of people? "With the usual silly games and activities. Remember, we only have to keep them together for a few hours. Now, I have some ideas about the phrasing of the invitations, and I don't want it to sound like a subpoena either." "Any suggestions for the wedding invitation? That's going to be a bit tricky too. 'Mr. & Mrs. Bosch invite you to the wedding of their daughter Jenny to a guy wearing a wedding gown' just doesn't cut it. I'm not even sure what name to use! I don't want any of the guests to have a coronary when they find Don in a dress, but do we really want to put into print she's marrying someone named Darlene? I am completely flummoxed, Betty." "It is a quandary, Charlene. Even though I have had many clients with gender dysphoria, none of them have actually fulfilled what is a very common fantasy. I'm afraid I have no experience to guide you. Would it be too tacky to have a small note to the effect of 'In solidarity with oppressed minorities Mr. Leget and Miss Bosch have chosen to etc. etc.'?" "I don't suppose we could be truthful and say 'To the consternation of their parents and friends, Mr. Leget etc. etc.' How can someone I'm so fond of cause such a problem just by being themselves?" "At the risk of repeating myself, I'd be out of a job if we knew. You'll cope splendidly, my dear. You always do." Jenny... How do I get myself into these situations? Since the day we met, when I found him wearing a bra while he did the laundry in the basement of our apartment building, his life as Darlene has fascinated me. I love him dearly, but sometimes my love can get stuck in his male side no matter what his appearance. Call me weird, but it really doesn't matter if I spend my time with Don or Darlene. So far it works out about even. Most weekends are spent with Darlene unless there's some function that specifically calls for Don. Most weeknights it's just too much trouble to get all made up and Don putters around the place. I love the person that shares those names and it doesn't matter to me what clothing is covering the body. Sometimes I find myself in the rather weird position of encouraging my love to dress up. Not that he doesn't want to, but there's still enough of the fear and guilt so many of his 'sisters' have to cope with that keeps Darlene under wraps if there's a chance someone who knows Don might find out about Darlene. Our getting married was one of those times. Since the time we started to get serious about each other, I knew Don dreamed of being married in a wedding dress, yet when we set the date he was wracked by indecision. Both of our families, even Daddy (especially Daddy!), have accepted his crossdressing with an amazing lack of distress, for that matter, his sister and my aunt are positively cheerleaders for Darlene. While we have a few friends who know and accept Darlene, most of our acquaintances are in blissful ignorance about my live-in girlfriend and Don isn't really sure he wants to change that. For my part, I think I would rather let the world know about Darlene, it would make keeping track of who knows and who doesn't so much simpler. So far, we haven't lost any friends when we told them, but we discussed pretty thoroughly who we would tell beforehand so that's not too big a surprise. The problem is distant relatives, old family friends, and co-workers; the kind of people you invite to a wedding but otherwise don't know too much about. For all that Cliff is a chauvinistic idiot, I have to thank him for making up my beloved's mind. Which brings me to today's little caper. Now that Don was comfortable about exchanging vows with me as Darlene it was starting to look like half the wedding party would be men in gowns. By the time I got through with my lunchtime visit with Don I fully intended to have Cliff think he was forcing Jimmy to wear a dress at the wedding. The Bogus Bridesmaid Caper - sounds like a title for a Donald Westlake novel, doesn't it? Maybe that's not so good an allusion, Westlake's capers always go awry and I want this one to come off as planned. I pulled into the parking space and checked my hair and makeup. Instead of my usual working suit, I had worn a frilly white dress with enough lace to satisfy even Darlene at her most feminine. Short hemline, plunging neckline with a precisely sized pendant swinging in my cleavage, more heel on my shoes than I prefer, lots of jangling bracelets, and godawful big gold hoops dangling from my ears. In other words, an outfit to distract the hell out of Cliff while I twisted him around my finger. Mother Jones might have been shocked at my appearance, but she would have understood my choice of weapons for my duel with Cliff. Sample book in hand, I listened to the echoes of my too high heels as I walked down the hall. Turning on my brightest smile I burst into the lunchroom. "Don!" I exclaimed, "I couldn't wait for you to see this!" Excitedly, I thrust the book in front of him as he quickly snatched his sandwich out of the way. In the sudden silence my unexpected entrance had produced, I paged through the book until we I came to the picture of the gown he had enthusiastically chosen. He must have inherited some of his sister's acting talent because he managed to look very, very embarrassed. "I've been looking all over the city for the perfect dress and I finally found it. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" I hoped my acting talent was as good as his, because I nearly gagged at the saccharine in my voice. "Look at that darling ruffle and the beautiful train! It's simply scrumptious!" "Uh..." he replied with just the right touch of confused male in his voice. "You'll look beautiful in it, Jenny." If I thought the place was silent before, there was a positive absence of sound now. "I meant for you! You do want to win that bet, don't you?" I inquired sweetly. I was looking at Cliff out of the corner of my eye, and he was staring intently at me. Naturally I failed to notice his stare as I prattled on. "I think it's so sweet you want to support my gay friends like this. You are the most romantic and caring man I know!" I gushed. Then I planted an enthusiastic kiss, which we held for quite some time. Now I failed to notice the red spreading over Cliff's face. "I'm so glad your friends here at work convinced you that you should wear this delightful gown when we get married." Now, at last, I noticed Cliff, but true to the character of the ditz I was portraying, I completely failed to see his discomfort. Swinging my hips, I pranced over to him and enveloped him in an enthusiastic hug, making sure his nose was firmly inserted in my cleavage. From the odd quivering I felt as I hugged him (yucch!), I knew I had the poor man very, um, moved. "Thank you so much, Cliff. It means so much to me that my Donnie (Oops - maybe I was going too far. Don hates to be called Donnie.) is willing to help me make a statement for equality at our wedding. Without your support I don't think he would have." There, I had him completely confused and flustered. The guys at the lunch table were laughing uproariously as I carried on. "Would you consider being one of my bridesmaids, Cliffie dear? You'd look lovely in lavender!" By then even Cliff must have figured out I was playing him for a sucker, but the whole thing was so funny the rest of the guys were happy to play along. As the round of ribald comments slowed, Jimmy took his cue. "Uh Jenny?" "Yes Jim?" "I think you're a bit confused. Cliff is betting five hundred bucks that Don WON'T wear a dress at the wedding. I think old Cliff is a bit of a conservative in some matters. Guys wearing dresses seems to bother him for some reason." "Does that mean you won't be my bridesmaid?" I pouted. "I was so hoping the nice people Don works with would support us." There ensued a round of jeering encouragement for Cliff to comply with my wishes, just as I had expected, with Jimmy leading the pack. Cliff's face was turning a lovely shade of magenta. "If you think it's such a fu.., darn good idea to dress like pansies then why don't you be the fu.., uh, bridesmaid, Jimmy?" The poor man didn't want to swear with a lady present. How quaint! "It'd be worth it just to piss you off, Cliffie baby, but you're paying Don five big ones to dress up, how much do I get?" "I wouldn't give a shrimp like you a nickel." "Jeez Cliff, shrimp goes ten, twelve bucks a pound. Ain't I worth a tenner? C'mon guys, it's got to be worth a pound of shrimp to see me go down the aisle in a dress." "I'm in Jimmy. Anything to see Cliff steamed." "If it's shrimp you're after maybe it better be a cocktail dress." "I'm in too. I'm sick of Cliff's carping!" You guys really want Jimmy floundering around your wedding?" "Clam up, buddy! "Who's gonna hold the stakes? They better have a freezer or I wouldn't want to win the bet by the time Don gets married." By the time I left, Jimmy had his wish, Cliff's conservative views had taken a trouncing, and we were assured a shrimp buffet at the wedding. Not a bad piece of work. Don... Things at work calmed down for a few days after our attempt at Gorilla Theater. Other than an occasional smartass remark, the whole thing was lost in the day to day madness of running a machine shop. Returning to my little cubbyhole a few days later, I found a yellow note on top of the pile on my desk. In his characteristic green ink the boss had scribbled "Don - See me. GG." Not one for using more words than necessary was Gene Garrett. It took a while to catch up with Gene, we both spend a lot of time running around the plant. Unlike my space, his office is clean and polished, no clutter anywhere. I sat down and asked, "What did you want, Gene?" "I'm not so sure what I want, to tell the truth. I had to spend a good twenty minutes listening to Cliff bitch and moan about you and Jimmy. He seems to think you're about to disgrace the company and commit indecent exposure or something. Then he seems to think that your lady shouldn't be allowed in the lunchroom because she looks like a tart. Sometimes it's a bit hard to figure out what Cliff really means, but I don't want things getting out of hand around here." "You may be too late for that, Gene. I kinda let Cliff get my goat the other day when he was telling us how evil it was for gays to get married." "Huh? What's that got to do with the price of peas?" So I recounted the bet, carefully slanting it to make it look like I was doing it only to make Cliff mad. "Are you out of your ever-lovin' mind, Don? You aren't seriously going to wear a dress to your wedding because of a stupid bet?" "Well, like I said, it kinda got out of hand. I was pissed at Cliff before it happened and when he made the bet I just took it to spite him. You don't know Jenny too well, but she is a major advocate for gay rights, on or off the job. Remember the company picnic when she and Cliff got into a 'discussion' about right-to-work laws and universal health care? "I wasn't sure what they were arguing about but it looked pretty intense." "It was. I don't think there's a chance in hell I could convince her I should wear a tuxedo, and besides it's an easy $500 for the honeymoon. To tell the truth, Gene, it's crazy enough that I'm getting a kick out of it." "I don't know, Don. I try to keep my nose out of my employee's personal lives, but sometimes it gets hard. You're not gay, are you Don?" "Hell, Gene, I'm marrying a woman, aren't I? No, I'm not gay, but I really don't see anything wrong with being gay, either." "I guess I'm not quite so liberal, this whole thing makes me very nervous, Don." "I'm sorry, Gene. I got carried away. I'll try to make sure it doesn't affect anyone at work, OK?" "Yeah, do that. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about " "It wasn't? "Look Don, I appreciate everything you've done in bringing the company up to snuff technologically. I consider you to be a very valuable man. You've become my bridge between management and the guys on the floor, and your personal efforts have made a big difference in how well the company runs. I know you're still in the union, but a good part of what you're doing now is what could be called management." "Don't get me wrong, I think this is a great development. I don't want this place to become one of those shops where Union and Management fight each other; if we work together we're all better off. In any case, I'd like to send you for some training in the office side of the operation. I looked curious, not sure what to say. "There's a seminar on a new efficiency and quality control program in a couple of weeks and I'd like you to go. What I'm interested in is whether this is something useful or just another package of happy horseshit from some consultant who wants to make a bundle. You have a good understanding of both sides of our operation and I think you are the man to send." "I don't know, Gene. I've never done anything like that before." "Don, I'll let you in on one of the little secrets of management. The things at a nice resort and you can be sure there's plenty of time available to enjoy the facilities when you're not attending to business. Take Jenny with you and enjoy yourselves on the company, then bring me back a report." "This is starting to sound better and better. If I'm going to represent management does that mean I gotta wear a suit and tie and smoke a big cigar so we look prosperous to the other folks?" "At a resort on a weekend? 'Business casual' as the euphemism goes. Hell, you can wear your damned wedding dress for all I care, just as long as you're not extorting any more money from Cliff." I think I heard my Fairy Godmother sprinkling pixie dust just about then. Gene thought he was being funny, but I had a new skirted suit that I was dying to wear. "What happens if I think it's a load of crap?" "Then it costs me a few bucks for the seminar and I don't waste a bundle trying to implement something that won't work." "I'll see what I can do, Gene." Jenny... "Hello?" "Hi yourself, daughter. You sound perky today." "I should. Don and I got the walls finished in the bedroom yesterday and we'll paint them today. If we can get the carpet put in this week we can move next weekend. I can hardly wait!" "Where do you get your energy? "I just stick my finger in the wall socket and charge as needed." "I refused to be shocked by your attitude. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about when to have the shower." "Shower?" "Yes. The Bridal Shower, darling. Remember - you're getting married. It's traditional to give the bride a shower, so Betty and I are doing so even if we seem to have a surplus of brides." "Oh, my. I hadn't thought of that. This keeps getting more complicated." "It's a wedding, dear. It's supposed to be complicated." "So it seems. I'm starting to have second thoughts about this two bride business. I hadn't thought through how thoroughly Darlene would be shown to the world." "You always were impulsive, Jenny dear. I'm afraid it's a little late to change your mind at this point. I dread talking to Jeff once he opens the invitation. How we ever managed to raise a Republican is beyond me, but I have no doubt he's going to make life difficult. I hope my liberal friends don't have an unsuspected conservative streak in them when it comes to crossdressing." "Tell me about it. At least you're working with liberals. I had no idea how resistant Union people could be to the idea of the groom in a dress. They may be sending the RSVP to you but I'm going to get a lot of calls." "Well, Betty did warn you." "So she did, and so did you. I guess Darlene and I really didn't believe how public things were going to get. The new neighbors must be wondering who's moving into the place. For better or worse, Don and I have just about decided that Darlene is going to be out of the closet for good. Not that we worked to hard to hide it before." "Actually Mom, it was Darlene and I who finished the plastering yesterday, dressed in jeans and sweatshirt and the bare minimum of makeup to hide the beard. I've barely had time to get used to Darlene in casual clothes, let alone grubbies for working. I can hardly wait to see Darlene spattered with paint. If she doesn't wear something over her wig it'll be ruined. Frankly, I think as long as he's wearing a bra he's happy. I guess there are some things I'll never understand." "Life is a mystery, Jenny. You're the one who fell in love with a crossdresser. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but there will be challenges. Anyway, I still need a date." "I don't think daddy would approve of you attending with another man." "You try a mother's patience, girl." "Well, we should be moving next week and the following week is that seminar for Don's work. Darlene and I will be attending that, you know. The next week I have a labor picnic so it will have to be four weeks from now. That should be plenty of time to send invitations." "Very good. Saturday afternoon, four weeks from now. Betty has volunteered her place, so all we have to do is find something to keep Roger amused and the festivities can commence without any untoward male influence. I can hardly wait to see how Darlene handles the silly party games Kathy's planned. That's traditional too, you know." "Just do me one favor, mother. Don't try and get Uncle Roger to put on a dress if he makes a fuss about leaving. They're enough crossdressers in this wedding as it is." "Speaking of which, I'll need addresses of any friends you or Darlene want at the shower." "You sure you want to test your friend's liberal natures with some of Darlene's 'sisters'?" "I'd rather appear before Judge Dredd, but I'm not about to provide grounds for a sexual discrimination suit. This shower ought to provide party stories for a good, long time." "I'll e-mail you the names. And mom..." "Yes?" "Thanks. I love you very much." "I know, dear. Why do you think I'm willing to do this?" Don... Saturday morning, and I'll admit I wasn't at my most alert. Jenny and I hadn't gotten much sleep last night, even though we spent it all in bed. Even coffee in the resort dining room and a rather good breakfast didn't help. I was trying to be attentive, but after the first half hour or so it was becoming obvious this was just another three letter wonder (these quality and motivation programs always have a three letter acronym) that just ate time and effort, producing what usually results from indigestible matter. Oh well, Gene would be disappointed, but I intended to enjoy myself at his expense. This guy was droning on and on about 200% effort, strategic somethings, and planned whatsis in the workplace. This program's mantra was "Act NOW!"...you could almost hear the capital letters. I was motivated, all right, but my motivation was to get Jenny back to the room so we could rut like rabbits. She had decided to attend the lecture with me in the hope it would offer something she could use professionally. Oh, well - at least I could whisper comments to her. When the inevitable motivational movie started, I slid my hand over on to her thigh and began to play around with the hem of her skirt. My thoughts were on her delectable body as we got dressed this morning. I had put the moves on her to no avail, she is a practical woman and I really did have to show up at the seminar on time. In the darkness of the seminar I envisioned unhooking her lacy bra and sucking on her beautiful tits, then stripping off the layer of pantyhose for an afternoon snack. Hey, maybe the seminar was having an effect on me after all. The guy kept stressing a clear vision and forceful action, above all "Act NOW!" Well, my vision was clear as I had watched Jenny put on her tailored business suit. It looks like a blouse and jacket, but I knew the white front of the blouse was a dickey sewn into the jacket, so I took action. With my eyes staring blindly into the screen I slid my hand upward and under her jacket until I was caressing her breast. She swatted my fingers under the jacket, but I wasn't deterred. I drew circles over the slippery fabric of her bra cup, zeroing in on her nipple as I played in the dark. It wasn't long before she settled back in the seat and shifted a bit toward me. I amused myself playing with her bra straps and sliding my finger beneath the soft cups to touch her nipple. Each time I found it I could feel her body tense but she remained silent as I revved her up. Just to see how far I could go, I slid my finger under the band of the bra and drew it up and over her breast, leaving her open to my probing fingers. The film was still running, so I proceeded to pinch her nipples. Jenny was really enjoying my touch and was starting to squirm a bit as she got more and more turned on. Just as I was about to get bold and explore under her skirt, the music swelled and the film ended, as did my explorations. Jenny quickly tugged her bra into place and we once again became part of the audience. When the session finally ended, we rode the elevator to our room. As soon as the elevator door closed I pulled up her deceptive jacket, again pulled up her bra and hungrily sucked her breasts until the dinging bell announced our floor. The room door had barely closed before our skirts hit the floor simultaneously and we raced to our bed. Kicking off her shoes, she jumped in, shucked her pantyhose, and spread her legs, demanding service right now. Now that's motivation for you, I struggled out of my own panties to dive right in and lap her supremely productive cunt. She was very wet from my teasing, with a beautiful aroma as I parted her brown hair. Her appetizing pink lips peeked out from the bush, just asking to be kissed, so I did. I sucked each tender pussy lip between my lips, tickling the edge with my tongue as I drew them into my mouth. She started to wiggle again so I began to lap her slit with long, sensuous strokes of my tongue. Beads of love juice clinging to her pubic hair brushed against my face as I ate her out, until they began to drip off my chin. I know what Jenny likes most of all so once she was really flying I spread her bush to expose her lovely little clit. I placed my lips over her button and began to suck lightly. I inserted my finger into her love tunnel, pressing upward in time with my lashing tongue on her clitoris. She really got off on that, and I had a hard time keeping up with her as she shifted her sexy ass under me. When she came, I crawled up her body and plunged my manhood deep into her well lubricated hole. The bed was the perfect height; I was able to stand beside it and slide myself deeply into her with ease. I like that position, especially when I'm wearing my bra. There's a whole new dimension to fucking when you can feel your falsies shift and bounce with each thrust. I found there's a downside to the "Act NOW" strategy. Because I was so horny, I came far too soon, filling her with my juices after only a few strokes. Oh well, we still had the entire weekend to go. That afternoon, we had signed up for an amateur golf tournament. Neither of us were really golfers, but I was curious as to what playing golf as Darlene would feel like. Our casual business attire was abandoned for the comfort of simple white shells over suitably patterned bras that would just show through, flowered cotton skirts, and athletic shoes. I rather admired how Darlene looked in resort garb, a look I had never tried before, and I positively drooled when I looked at Jenny. I was going to have to watch that or people would start wondering. Golf while being dressed turned out to be a wonderful experience. It took a while to get my balance with the weight of the falsies in my bra, but it felt great to take a swing at the ball and feel how my bra moved with the motion. Then there was the feeling as my breasts brushed my arms when I stood over a putt, skirt caressing my legs in the gentle breeze. My score at the end of the round clearly testified to my amateur status, but I won the prize for the "Most Enthusiastic" participant. Being a tourney run by an outfit trying to sell us something, there were prizes for everyone, but it was fun. Sunday morning she surprised me by putting on stockings and garters. Stockings were my preference; Jenny usually saved them for erotic play. No panties, either, so I followed her lead; I got the feeling she was trying to motivate me. We donned our proper business attire and we went down to breakfast, but before leaving the room I made sure I had a certain motivational tool in my purse in case it was needed. By then I was sure the whole program was just one more alphabet soup of letters with no real benefit except to the people selling the plan, so I had little interest in the seminar. However, we both searched the program, looking for the next movie and she smiled at me as she pointed it out. This time we sat in the back of the theater and as soon as the lights dimmed, I pulled up her skirt and began to play with her bush. I took out my moti