Joan: The Real Deal free porn video

Joan: The Real Deal - 1 - It was a Tuesday and I was in the office, running around with my shirttail on fire. There were problems with two major accounts and I was interviewing for an administrative assistant. The accounts had to take priority, so my 2:00 candidate had to sit in the lobby for fifteen minutes. Amanda, my receptionist, got her some coffee so she wouldn't think everyone in the company was rude. When the smoke finally cleared, I had Amanda show the candidate in. She introduced herself as Laura. She was wearing a blue chalkstripe suit with a skirt that went just below the knee. She had long brown hair tied in the back. I invited her to sit down and apologized for the delay. "This is why I need an administrative assistant," I said. She was polite and said it wasn't a problem. When she spoke, I thought her voice was a little husky, but she was big and broad-shouldered, anyway. We started by going over her resume. Recently there were a lot of temp jobs. I asked her if she liked temping. "I'd rather have a permanent position," she said, "but I haven't found one for a while, and I'd also rather have a roof over my head." Fair answer; she could play the hand she'd been dealt. Most of her positions were as assistants to executives or business owners. I explained to her what I wanted out of an AA. First, I need someone to keep me organized. I have been working long enough to be honest about what I do well and what I don't. I don't want to sort vendor information and prune the outdated data sheets, and I will find anything else to do rather than do that. Second, I am a big-picture person, and want help taking care of the details. With that, I stopped talking. Laura took the cue and gave two examples from her previous work of how she had shouldered those sorts of responsibilities for others. I liked what I heard. Her examples showed initiative, thoroughness and good sense. But something didn't quite add up. So I asked her why she left her last permanent position three years ago. She responded by asking if she could have the door closed. I volunteered to get it. Anyway, I wanted to check out her shoes. She was wearing plain black patent pumps with kitten heels and pointed toes. I was impressed. Now I braced myself for the hardship story. But I hadn't put the clues together, so I never expected what I heard. "If you hire me, you will want verification of eligibility to work. When I show you my social security card, it says Kevin on it. Four years ago, I realized I needed to be a woman at work. When I came out, management tolerated me, but my co-workers made my life a living hell. I couldn't stay. I have been trying to get a permanent position, but I haven't found a lot of understanding out there." She was on the verge of tears. I took a box of tissues that I keep for such occasions off the shelf and handed it to her. "Laura ? I'm going to call you by the name you introduced yourself as ? everyone here is either very busy or needs to find another place to work. If I've set this up right, no one is going to have time to get their shorts in a bunch over who you are or aren't. But let's try something." I stood up and walked to the door. "You've already met our receptionist, and there is one other woman who is here all the time that I'd like to introduce you to. Are you sufficiently composed to go meet someone?" Laura said that she was. She stood and walked behind me. I took her out to Kristin's desk. Kristin is my customer service rep. I made the introductions. I asked Kristin to describe what she does. Laura asked a couple of questions. Then a call came in and Kristin had to return to her primary job function. I walked Laura back to my office. I told her that I was probably going to make a decision this week. I asked her if she would be immediately available if chosen, and she said that she was. I wrapped up the interview, saw her off and went back to the rest of my day. - 2 - There were three reasons that I was not too put off by Laura and her story. The first reason was that I had enough years as a manager in Corporate America to be exposed to issues such as this. Once I had a employee put pictures of his boyfriend on his desk. I didn't care as long as he made his numbers, which he did. Some of his peers copped a 'tude over it. Things got so poisonous, since I didn't know how to handle it at the time, I had to get help from human resources. I learned a lot about how to handle "employee lifestyle issues" from the experience. The second reason is one I just alluded to. I run a business. We're here to work. If you can work effectively, do what you want on your own time. If a salesman had come to me to tell me he wanted to start wearing dresses to work, that would be a problem because the customers wouldn't tolerate it. A back-office person didn't have that constraint. The third reason is that I like to wear women's clothes myself. I don't wear them in public, but I sure wish I could. I like the bright colors women get to wear. I like skirts and, above all, women's shoes. I wish I could be at work in a skirted suit and high heels. But there is just no way. So I guess I identified with Laura and her current problem. - 3 - I also wish I could be accepted at home in a dress and heels. I think that would be possible if I had an understanding wife. Instead, however, I had Diana. Diana and I had met twelve years ago when we worked for the same company. She was a business analyst in IT. We were on a cross-functional team and had to work on a project together. There was no immediate spark, but we started to get along after a while, and one thing led to another. At the time, Diana had long black hair, down past her shoulder blades. She typically wore reasonably feminine clothes at work and very flattering clothes when we went out. Ten years ago, we were married. After that, there began to be changes for Diana: * she started seeing increased responsibility in her job; * she became increasingly critical of everything that wasn't done the way she would have done it; * her hair got shorter; * her necklines went up, even out of hours; * her heels went down; * her clothes became plainer, more causal and less feminine. I was happy for her that she was getting career growth, but I didn't like the rest of the changes. My desires cut no ice with her. Diana's position was, "I'm not going to try to be a person that I'm not." I felt like I had a bait-and-switch pulled on me. At the time, I wasn't wearing women's clothes myself. Instead, I was shopping vicariously through her. She went along with it before the marriage, but once we were married, it was like she didn't think she had to go through the effort anymore. Meanwhile, I wasn't being honest with myself about what I really wanted, either. - 4 - Three years after we were married, I started my own electronics distributorship. It was something I had wanted to do for some time, and I had discussed it with Diana. I had no intention of spending my entire adult life as an employee. I had enough of the corporate life and stupid rules that accomplished nothing for anyone. Diana was not happy about this. She had a heavy emotional investment in the corporate life and didn't want to see me opt out. She hadn't voiced her distaste when we were talking about it; she often did not follow through on what she said she would do, and I expect she thought that this was likewise idle talk on my part. But when I did the deed, she didn't speak to me for two weeks. The Silent Treatment was one of Diana's favorite coercive tactics. I got the Silent Treatment when I incorporated the business, and again when I took out the lease on the building. In between these bouts of silence, we would try to have a life together. Both of us were working long hours. Sometimes on the weekends, we would go out to eat or to a movie. She typically wore jeans and clogs, with a loose shirt in the summer or a sweater the rest of the year. I tried to talk her into at least wearing heels, but she wouldn't consider it. She'd say, "If you think they're so great, you wear them." About five years into the marriage, I was on my way back from the accountant's office when I passed a store I'd never noticed before. They had lingerie in the window and I looked at it and thought that never in a million years would I get Diana to wear any of that. Then I noticed the shoes. In particular, there were a pair of pumps, fire engine red, with heels that had to be at least four inches high. I thought they were fantastic, and I wanted to wear them. I wasn't ready to actually buy them yet, but I screwed up my courage enough to go into the store and ask what the largest size was. They had my size! I walked out empty handed, but for the next three days I kept fantasizing about those beautiful red shoes. Finally, I couldn't take anymore. I went out and bought them. I had to hide them in the basement until the time was right. When I was home and Diana was at work, I practiced walking in them until I was comfortable. When I was ready, I decided to take the risk. It was a Saturday evening and we were home, with no plans. Diana was in front of the TV, as usual. I went to her and said, "I have decided to take your advice." "How's that?" she said and looked up at me. "I'll show you." I went into the basement and changed into my new high heels. I was wearing jeans and a golf shirt. I walked up the stairs into her view. "I like high heels, so I'm wearing them, like you said." Diana's response was immediate and unambiguous. She ran into the bathroom and threw up. - 5 - After that, Diana started to shift away from the Silent Treatment and into Throwing Darts. We would be talking about her job, and she'd toss in some line like, "But since you couldn't make it in the corporate world, I wouldn't expect you to understand." Or she'd be talking about some celebrity she didn't like, and she'd say, "Next thing you know, he'll be dressing up like a girl." Everyone she didn't like could soon be expected to dress up like a girl. I spent a year waiting for this to subside. It didn't. I tried to ignore it and ride it out. I wanted the woman I married back. She wasn't coming back. Simply put, I was in denial. I began to notice that her circle of friends was changing. Her friends now were harder-looking, nastier and more judgmental. When I asked about one of her old friends I didn't hear about lately, Diana said, "Oh, she's gone off to be Suzy Homemaker." Sometimes she would have some friends over, and I would be working in the den and hear snippets of their conversation. It was mostly about being in control and being needed but not needing anyone else. By this time, we were basically living separate lives. She immersed herself in her job and her social circle ? hell, let's be honest, her clique at work. I immersed myself in building my business, which was like two full-time jobs anyway. So after about a year of this, I started coming out of the fog. I realized that Diana wasn't going to ever make everything all right for me. That would be my job. I began to respond to the Thrown Darts. For the more overt ones, I would trot out the old chestnut from school: "That was uncalled-for." Diana would roll her eyes and not say anything. - 6 - In another time and place, I would have been totally on my own to figure out who I was and what I needed to do. I would have been extremely lucky to hear about any kind of support network. But in my time and place, I found the Internet. We had just got connected at work. I was wandering around, trying out search engines, and I went exploring. To my surprise, I found a wealth of information. I spent hours reading the bios of the T-girls who had put up web pages. There was every possible background and motivation. Some had supportive wives and some had wives like mine. But the key point was this: I was not alone. I also found vendors. One day I bought over two hundred dollars' worth of clothes and shoes. When the package came home, Diana got to it first. When I came home that night, she went absolutely nuclear. "Didn't you comprehend my feelings when I went into the bathroom and puked at the sight of you wearing women's shoes?" she hollered. "Yeah, that was abundantly clear. But I've made my feelings clear about what you wear, and you couldn't care less." Immediately Diana started to reposition what I said. "I know you want me to look like a teenage slut, but it's not the look I want to create." "So you will decide what is right for you and you will decide what is right for me." "Society decides what is right for you. Do you see other women my age walking around in mini-skirts and stiletto heels?" Actually, I did, but I was confident from observed past performance that she would have a dismissive remark for any of them. "Do you see men walking around in womens' shoes?" I can reposition, too. "So that's what life is all about, monkey see, monkey do?" "You're not keeping this in this house." "Who are you, my mother?" "What are you going to do with these clothes? Wear them to a gay bar and pick up men?" "I haven't decided." "I don't believe this." She turned and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. From then on I started having my orders shipped to the office and sneaking them into the basement. It was just easier than having to go through that scene every time. I soon built up a set of sites I used to routinely visit. I was very paranoid in case someone sat down at my computer when I wasn't there and found the URLs. So I found out how to go into the registry and remove them. One day I removed the wrong registry key, and when I shut my PC down, it wouldn't boot again. I had to get a consultant in to fix it. After that, I stopped messing with the registry. It was also through the Internet that I found a support group in town. I was nervous as hell the first time I went. We met at a member's home. I had to change there; there was no way I was going to go in and out of the house in front of Diana dressed. I was mortally terrified that I would be seen by someone I knew in business. But it turned out to be a very safe and supportive place. I met friends who helped me pick out wigs and put on makeup. It was at this time that I chose Joan as my femme name. And the secret stash in the basement continued to grow. Soon it was getting hard to hide. - 7 - So Diana and I muddled through what passed for our marriage. I tried to keep who I really was away from her so that I didn't have to see the eye-rolling or hear the sarcastic remark. Two or three times a year we had perfunctory sex, but even that had control overtones. On the plus side, I had taken ownership of my desire to dress. On the minus side, I was basically living three lives: one in the support group, one at work and one in my marriage, where I had to suppress everything about me. I was often frustrated and always short on patience. I was quick to criticize and slow to praise. When one of my employees was willing to shoulder the load, I kept piling it on because it was easier than trying to get some of the substandard performers to pick it up. There were times when I was abrasive toward my employees. I lost a good customer service rep through these methods. They also contributed to my last AA quitting. So now I needed to hire a new assistant, soon. I thought Laura was the best that I had seen and I felt that she could succeed in the role. But I needed to take the temperature of the office staff. This was the reason I had introduced Laura to Kristin. Laura would be in the office with Kristin and Amanda all the time and if there was going to be a morale problem, I needed to know before I made the hire. Kristin was an okay customer service rep. She was very bright and energetic, but she did not suffer fools gladly. You could hear the impatience in her voice when she had to tell anyone anything a second time. With that and her unwillingness to wear anything but jeans, I can't take her out on calls. I have the attention span of a gnat for details, so she has been short with me more than once. I spoke to Kristin and to Amanda about Laura. If they had any problems with her, neither of them said anything. I asked both of them straight up, "Can you work with her?" They both said yes. So two days after I interviewed Laura, I called her in after hours and made her an offer, which she immediately accepted. We set her start date for Monday week. - 8 - By the time Laura showed up for her first day at work, I had been thinking of things for her to do. There were some obvious tasks: all you had to do was look around my office. But I had some additional ideas that I needed help with, and I wanted to see what she was capable of. The relentless decline of my marriage had made me come to the realization that it might not last forever. Among the other problems this would cause, I would have to do something about health insurance. I had never put a plan in place for my company, and I personally was riding on Diana's plan at her employer. Maybe it was time to do something about that. I certainly didn't have time to do it. So I outlined the problem to Laura. She had never been involved in health insurance before. I told her what I knew of the selection process and told her to contact three companies and arrange to get quotes. With the guidance of the reps from the three insurance carriers, and very little guidance from me, Laura did a superior job. She was apparently told that we had to provide health backgrounds for the employees to get quotes. She circulated the forms provided by the insurers and got everyone to fill them out. In a month, we had a health plan. It wasn't a Cadillac plan, but it was serviceable and it was reasonably priced, as these things go. There were other changes as well. Laura organized the product information. She took over my master calendar and my work life got a lot better. She built a schedule to make sure product literature and sample kits got out on time to the prospects. One day I was talking to Kristin and she observed that Laura "wasn't normal." Lately I had been so involved in the business that I had pushed out of my mind the obvious way in which Laura wasn't normal. I was thinking about performance when I said, "Isn't it great? I can find things in my office." Kristin looked at me funny and said, "That's not what I'm talking about." I asked for clarification. Kristin said, "She never wears pants." I said, "I saw her in pants last week." "Okay, once," Kristin replied. "It's not normal." I waited a couple of days and had a chat with Amanda. I asked her how things were in the office since my new hire. Amanda said, "He's okay, I guess." "He who?" "Oh, come on," Amanda said. You know and I know that Laura is really a man. Kristin doesn't know, because she's a little dense about stuff like that. Why did you hire him?" "First, do me a favor and refer to Laura as her, since I don't want to create a hostile work environment. As to your question, suitably rephrased, I hired her because she was the best candidate for the job. It happens to be illegal to discriminate against her because of her plumbing." This was a slightly disingenuous answer. In reality, having less than fifty employees, I could have avoided hiring her without consequence if I was clever about fabricating an acceptable reason. Many other business owners would have done exactly that. Many apparently had, which was why Laura had to make a living temping for the past three years. However, it was wrong. I didn't expect that argument to get far with Amanda. She was very traditional and rigid. She liked having rules and she liked seeing them enforced. She used to talk about how she would drive 55 in the fast lane of the freeway and the cars who wanted go faster "can stuff it because that's the law." So instead, I positioned it in terms of the law. It was a reality she was prepared to understand. - 9 - I had been noticing was Laura was wearing, although it wasn't at the forefront of my mind. My talk with Kristin brought focus on the subject. Laura usually wore either skirted suits or a skirt and some kind of top. She had gorgeous legs. I wasn't in the office every day, but I had yet to see her wear the same pair of shoes twice and she'd been with us three months. The shoes she wore were absolutely beautiful and very feminine, with a range of heel heights. She put Amanda to shame. Amanda usually wore pants and always wore flats. Lately it seemed that Amanda had started to compete. She came in skirts more, and once I actually saw her in low heels. And then I'd go home to Diane, who dressed like the girls I knew in college. The contrast was sharp and inevitable. And the wheels began to turn in my mind. What I really wanted was a girlfriend who was just like Laura. That wasn't on the horizon. Laura was not just attractive, but also pleasant and, in the limited time I had been able to work with her, enjoyable to be around. But there were three problems that I could see: 1) I was running a business, not a girlfriend farm; 2) Laura was not really a girl; 3) I was married. I was married, but I was miserable. I didn't really even want to go home. Diana and I occupied separate corners of the house until it was time to go to bed. We slept in the same bed, but you could park a semi in between us. So how much longer was I willing to ride out a sham marriage? - 10 - Over the next few weeks, I turned the situation over in my mind many times while driving home in the car, searching for a solution. I didn't even know if Laura was available or would be interested. What if I alienated her and lost a really good assistant? What would it do to office morale to know that the boss was shtupping one of the employees? What would the salesmen say behind my back when Amanda told them the owner's main squeeze was really a guy? And then I'd get home, and be confronted with the unsustainable reality of here and now. We had bought a newer house, one of the larger houses on smaller lots you see so often. At least I didn't have a large lawn to do. I could throw my dishwater into the neighbors' bedroom, except the neighbors didn't have a single window facing my house. The house was bigger than we needed. Diana drove that decision, and I agreed, secretly hoping that if she had the house she wanted, the marriage would get better. Of course nothing of the sort happened. Instead, we had enough room in the house to avoid each other as much as we wanted to. And we wanted to. One night I walked past Diana on my way to the den. Oversized sweater, jeans, sneakers with no backs. Her hair was now shorter than mine. Diana was an attractive woman, but it seemed like she was going out of her way to negate it. Everything she wore said, "Stay away from me," and I heeded the message. I sat at my desk, but I really wasn't in the mood for busywork. I was peering down the road into my future. I didn't like what I saw. There had to be more to life than this. I don't know why I had the impulse to go down to the basement. I always felt a little better when I could at least look at my girl clothes. When I turned the light on, I saw that someone had been doing a little digging. I rooted through the boxes. It didn't appear that anything was missing, but it had all been looked over. But I hadn't been down there for several days, so I couldn't say whether it had happened today or earlier. It was time to take the initiative, to get the armor on and start dealing with this. The right way. - 11 - I went into the room where Diana was sitting in front of the TV. "We need to talk," I said. "We sure do. How much more money do you plan to spend on girly clothes?" "I don't know. How much more money do you plan to spend on butt-ugly clothes? "You seem to forget that what I'm wearing is acceptable for me to wear. It is not acceptable for you to wear a dress and high heels." "It's not that I forget, it's that I don't care. Forget the clothes. You haven't liked anything I do in years. If I don't do it the way you would have done it, I've done it wrong. You roll your eyes when I talk." "How do you expect me to feel when it turns out I've been married to a sissy?" One thing I learned in Corporate America is how to play Throw the Problem Back at You. "How do you expect me to feel when it turns out I've been married to Pat from Saturday Night Live?" "You're the one who isn't normal." I felt it was time to bring this around to some adult outcome. "It's obvious to me that we can't solve our problems by ourselves. We need to see someone about our marriage." Diana looked at me funny. "Are you seeing someone?" "No," I replied, "but you can't tell me what we have is working." "So is this some kind of mid-life crisis?" "Well, I'm in mid-life, and this marriage is in crisis, so I guess that could make it a mid-life crisis. But I'm not out looking for problems because I don't have enough trouble in my life. I can't stand being around you, you avoid me, and I don't think we got married with this in mind. We need to get to a counselor." "You're the one who needs a counselor. You're the one who wants to wear dresses." I'm not doing this line any more. "I want marriage counseling or I want out." "There's the door, Jeff. Or whatever you call yourself." I knew how vindictive she had become. If I walked out now, there would be a sudden movement of property from the basement to the garbage. "I don't have to leave. You leave. You're the one who doesn't want to take measures to make it better." Diana got up and turned the TV off. "OK, sissy britches, I will. See if you can find a woman who will put up with you." She went downstairs and got a suitcase. On the way upstairs she picked up the cordless phone. As she packed, she called one of her friends and arranged to find a place to stay. I sat in the dark living room and waited for her to leave. As she walked by with her suitcase in her hand, she said, "Stay away from my clothes." "You can count on it." "Good-bye, faggot." There was only one appropriate reply. "Don't let the doorknob hit you in the ass on the way out." SLAM! - 12 - So now, I was alone. And what did I feel? Incredible relief. But I was also in shock. It was really happening. I had thought that, if Diana ever walked out, the first thing I would do is get dressed up. But now I had no desire to do that. I was incredibly wired. The first thing I did was to take off my wedding ring. I looked at the time. Home Depot was still open. I knew what I had to do. Run, not walk, down to Home Depot and get new locks for the doors. After I changed the locks, I got online and started moving money around. I had no intention of hiding assets or cheating her out of what was rightfully hers, but I didn't want her to get the first punch in. I spent the next three days underwater. I worked, went home and slept. Then I got a call at work from a very irate ex-to-be. I picked up the phone. "You locked me out of the house." "Fine, thanks. And yourself?" "You locked me out of the fucking house!" "What the hell did you expect? You walked out. I gave you the right of first refusal, and you refused." "You're not gonna strongarm me. I know that I'm right. You could tell anyone the story of our marriage and they'd agree with me." "Then what was your problem with telling the story to a marriage counselor? Presumably he or she would agree with you, too." "I DON'T NEED COUNSELING!!!" Not much, apparently. "You're the pervert." "I don't intend to take this shit from you anymore. Either you talk to me respectfully or you don't call me." "I can ruin you, you know. What would your business associates think if they knew you were a fairy?" I was waiting for that. "It wouldn't be in your best interest to do that." "Why the hell not?" "Because I would show the court that you deliberately impaired the value of my business, and you would get that much less in the settlement." That shut her up for a minute. "So we're getting a divorce?" "What did you think was going to happen? You refused counseling. You walked out. The door only swings one way." "I'm gonna find out who you're seeing." "Even if I were seeing someone, it makes no difference. We live in a no-fault state. Grounds for divorce here are failure of the marriage beyond repair, and that's what we have." She asked me if I was going to file. I said that I would. Sure, I'll take the initiative again. "I will wait to receive the papers. Then I will make your life hell." "You've already done all you can there." "You'll see." She hung up. - 13 - Not long after the call, Amanda walked into my office. "You had one angry wife on the phone," she said, as she looked at my left hand. "Not for long," was my reply. "What happened?" It really was none of her business, and my first instinct was to say so. But in the light of what I was contemplating, I thought it would be better for all concerned if I made an explanation and made it now. "We were living two separate lives. I asked for counseling, but she wasn't interested. So we're done." "OK," she said, and walked out. Amanda's cheaper than a full page ad in the Sunday paper. I had full confidence the story would get around with no further intervention on my part. That afternoon I called around and got a referral for a divorce attorney. I called her office and made an appointment. That evening it hit me for the first time that I was alone. But what was different? I went downstairs and turned the TV on to something I wanted to watch. Now there was no meaningful change in the house from how it had been last week. Next day I went to see the attorney and started the process. That night, for the first time, it hit me that the marriage I had once thought I would be in for life was over. - 14 - I went for about two weeks eating one meal a day and grazing a little bit to supplement it. I was functional on sales calls and in meetings, but I avoided unstructured time. I came home every evening and plopped in front of the tube. Then I started to re-enter the atmosphere. And as I did, it seemed to me that Laura was trying to read my eyes every chance she got. Was she interested? Was I interested? Well, yes I was. But I was still struggling with the fact that she wasn't really a woman. But what was a Real Woman? Was Diana a Real Woman? She had the biological parts, but I could discern nothing soft, appealing or feminine about her now. The more I thought about it, the more confusing it seemed. What is a woman? What is a suitable partner? How do you know who is the real deal? Perhaps it was time I found out. Any I would think if anyone could understand me as I really am, Laura could. Besides, I went into business for myself because I would rather get results than live by someone else's rules that did nothing for me. Maybe it was time to start applying the same mentality to the rest of my life. I called Laura into my office. I told her that I would be working Saturday. I told her I had to catch up on stuff I'd let go over the past two weeks, which happened to be true. "I don't require you to be here, but I would appreciate your help if you are available." "Will anyone else be here?" she asked. "Not likely. This place becomes a ghost town at five on Fridays." "I'd be happy to help. What time do you want me?" I told her to come in at ten. I could then get in a half hour before and unlock. She walked out of my office. Was it my imagination, or was she walking on air? Her rear end could have conducted the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra as she walked out. I wanted to get there before Laura so that I could bring in some clothes. I would read her actions and make a decision. If I thought there was something there, I would come out to her. If not, we would do our work and go home, no one being the wiser. - 15 - Friday night I picked out the clothes I wanted to wear. It would be the first time I dressed up since Diana moved out. I picked out a business look and a sexier look, complete with shoes. I packed it all with wig, jewelry and makeup in a suitcase. Saturday morning I took the suitcase and my briefcase and drove to work. I sat down at my desk and tried to focus on working while I waited for her. At five of ten I heard the door open. I stood up, because I wanted to make sure it was Laura and go talk to her so I could read the situation. It didn't require involved reading. She was absolutely stunning. She was wearing a red print dress that really showed off her figure, with a skirt that ended just above the knee. It was very low cut and showed off her cleavage. I had assumed she was wearing breast forms, but now I didn't see how that was possible. On her feet were bright red pumps with what appeared to be four inch heels. As she turned toward her desk, I saw that her shoes had string bows at the tops of the heels. I also saw that she was wearing seamed stockings. We worked together on product information for about an hour. It was very difficult for me to keep my eyes off of her. Finally, I decided it was time. I asked her to do some work at her desk. I reached under my desk where I had put my suitcase. I took it and locked the front door. Laura looked up as I walked by with the suitcase. "What have you got there?" "A surprise," I said, and went into the bathroom. I changed my underwear and put my bra on. I put my boobies in and pulled on white hose. I put on a white shell and a black pinstripe suit; this was my business look I had picked out. The shoes I had chosen to go with them were black patent leather pumps with 2" heels and straps that buttoned like mary janes, but more forward on the instep. I applied my makeup and put my wig on. I clipped on earrings and put a silver chain around my neck. I was as ready as I was going to be. I opened the door and walked over to Laura's desk. Her face was a picture. She was lost for words. Finally, I said, "What do you think?" "You're very pretty," she said. "I should have known there was a reason you were so understanding. What is your femme name?" "Joan." Laura stood and approached me. "Hi, Joan. I really like your shoes. Are you a shoe person like I am?" I reached to her and our hands closed around one another. "You know it. Come on into my office." I led her in and closed the door. As soon as the door was closed, we put our arms around each other and kissed. It had been so long since I had another's tongue in my mouth. I almost melted in her arms just from the kissing. We both pulled all the shades down. I sat her down in the chair we had pulled up next to mine earlier, when we were attempting to work. I sat in the chair and took her left leg in my hands. "There's something I want to do for you," I said. I move my hands down to her feet. I started kissing her pump slowly, passionately. I saw her head go to the side and slightly back as she cooed to me, "More." I put her left foot in my lap and she swung her right foot up to where I could reach it. I gave her right pump the same treatment. "I need to get my purse," she said as she swung her feet over and stood up. She returned with her purse, from which she pulled a tube of lipstick. She painted her lips a bright pink and rolled them together. "Now there's something I'd like to do for you," she said. She went to her knees in front of me and lifted my skirt. She pulled down my panties and I wiggled to help her get them off my butt. She pulled them down my legs and completely off. My cock was throbbing as she reached for it. She squeezed it and took it into her mouth, smearing her lipstick all over it. I loved the sight of her head in my lap, sucking me off, and her seamed legs ending in beautiful red stiletto heels with bows. Her mouth felt incredibly good and she worked her tongue very well. When I came, it was absolutely wonderful. I felt it all the way along my cock. I shot a lot and she swallowed it all. She lifted her head up, holding up my skirt. "I don't want to get lipstick and stuff all over your skirt," she said. But please don't wash it off." "I don't want to," I replied. "Take my skirt down for me." I stood up and she removed my skirt, keeping it clear of my cock which was already stiffening again. I put my hands on her hips, turned her around and guided her to the back of my desk. She moved items around to make a space, and bent over. I asked her if she had any lubricant in her purse. She had been sufficiently thoughtful to bring some. I pulled her panties down, grabbing her girlcock and bag firmly as I did so. I found a condom and some lubricant in her purse. I put the condom over her girlcock. "I love having you do that for me," she said. I lubricated her ass and made my way in. "Confucious say," I whispered, "secretary not permanent fixture until screwed on desk." She was just the right height with our respective heels. She was very pleasant to be inside of, and I was surprised how quickly I came. We went to the bathroom and cleaned each other up. Evidently, she had come, as her condom was full. We went back to the office. "Can you stay like that all day?" she asked me. "Do you think we'll get any work done?" I said as I pulled my skirt on. When we got back to my office, I put my arms around her and we kissed again. I looked in her beautiful green eyes. "Laura," I said, "I love you." She lit up. "I love you too, Joan." - 16 - We did get some work done, although we spent a lot of time necking. For lunch, I called for a pizza. Laura had to get the door. At about four, we decided we had done enough for one day. Laura invited me over to her place. I told her I had to change into boy clothes for the drive. "Leave your makeup on," she suggested. "It will take less time and no one will notice." She waited for me while I changed. We left the office, locking the door behind us, and went to our cars. She had parked within sight of me. I followed her to her apartment. When we got inside, I told her I needed to change. "Good, I liked you in that suit," she said. "Well, thank you," I replied, "but I brought something else to wear for tonight. I want you in what you have on, though." I headed for the bedroom to change. I put on a flower print dress with a white background and a mid-thigh length skirt. I decided to go without stockings. I took out the shoes that I had brought, which were pink pearlized ankle straps with open sides and heels over 5" high. Then I had a thought and called Laura into the bedroom. When she arrived, I said, "would you like to put my shoes on me?" She enthusiastically said yes. She walked over and sat on the bed, and I placed the shoes between us. She lovingly took each leg, sucked my toes a little, then slipped the shoes on and buckled the straps snugly around each ankle. "You know," she said, "I have an older pair just like this, but they don't have the pearl finish." I figured this is a good time to ask, "When do I get to see your shoe wardrobe?" She got up and walked over to the closet and opened it. "This is some of them," she said, as she pulled the doors open. I walked over and knelt down beside two large boxes. There were shoes of every color, style and heel height. They were all feminine and beautiful. "You see anything you like?" she asked. "I don't see anything I don't," I answered. "I'm looking forward to seeing you wear every pair of these." When I stood up, she put her arms around me. I turned to her and began to kiss her. I felt her walking me toward the bed. When we got there, she asked me to lay down. I went to the center of the bed and she followed me. She lifted my skirt and took my excited girlcock into her mouth. I guided one foot inside of her skirt and worked it around until the toe of my shoe was pushing in between her legs. She pulled her panties down so that I could get access. I heard her moan as I applied gentle pressure. She responded by pressing with her tongue. Soon I exploded into her mouth. I felt her close her legs, holding my foot in place against her private parts. After I collected myself, I began to get up and she released my leg. When she did, I turned and guided her onto her back, lifting her skirt as I did so. I took her panties completely off, saying, "You're done with these for tonight." I knelt over her and took hold of her girlcock and brought it into my mouth. Briefly, the thought appeared that I was about to suck cock, but I pushed it away. All I wanted was to please this beautiful creature who was so intent on pleasing me. I took her into my mouth, being careful not to let my teeth touch her. I made my mouth tight around her and began to go up and down on the shaft. Soon, she was cooing to me. Everything about her behavior was so sweet and feminine. She filled my mouth with her spunk, I remembered the old punch line: like spits; love swallows. I laid down next to her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. I knew I had made my choice. I had pushed all the noise and bullshit out of my brain. I had set my course for her happiness and mine.