Jennifer's Journey -- Becoming The Perfect Housewife, Part 4 free porn video

Jennifer's Journey ? Becoming the Perfect Housewife, Part 4 January Brings Some Changes With the start of the New Year, there were a few changes to my life and my weekly schedule. I was no longer going with Sarah to the gym two mornings a week. I was doing my work-outs at home in front of my TV with my new exercise DVDs and workout outfits. My favorite routine was something called Fitness Ballet, which combined some ballet basics with lots of stretching and some aerobics. Sarah was even good enough to install a ballet "barre" in out mirrored exercise room in the basement. Another change was that I was no longer taking cooking and sewing classes. And as I wasn't going to the gym and the YWCA on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I was pretty much free to dress as Jennifer seven days a week. Sure, there were times when I needed to be John, but these seemed to be fewer and fewer. My Thursday afternoons were still spent at the salon, but now I was starting to arrive dressed as Jennifer, leaving as a somewhat more glamorous version of Jennifer after the girls worked their magic on me for several hours. By now, my longish hair had grown out quite a bit more, and Sarah arranged for the girls at the salon to change my style and color. My hair now had full, frilly bangs in front, with the sides and back left long and layered. The subtle highlights were replaced with more obvious honey blonde highlights. The bottom line, I now had girl hair all the time. If I needed to look "butch" for the day, I would slick my hair back so the style wouldn't be so noticeable. Otherwise, I now had a pretty, feminine blonde hairstyle, 24/7, that I learned to blow out, brush out and style on my own. One of the reasons Sarah relented and let me drop the gym and the classes at the YWCA was that I had made a lot of progress over the past three months. I had slimmed down and toned my body into a more delicate, feminine shape and had proven to Sarah that I learned a lot from my sewing and cooking classes. But the main reason she agreed to let me skip the gym and the Y was that I now had some other reasons to get out of the house and be with other people. Sarah had been concerned from the start that by being Jennifer, I would withdraw into the house and not interact with other people, which Sarah thought would be unhealthy. As it turned out, January brought lots of new experiences for Jenny. Therapy When I had my check-up with Dr. Roberts in December, he had strongly urged me to get in touch with a therapist, Donna Mitchell, who did a lot of work with people with gender issues. Sarah was very supportive of this idea and so I called and made an appointment. I went in for my first session on the Tuesday morning of the second week of January. As it was during the time Sarah would be at the gym, we agreed that I would drive myself, something I didn't do too often these days. Dr. Mitchell's office was located in an area called Mayfair, south of the downtown area (Sarah and I live on the northside of town) on a busy street lined with many professional buildings, not far from Dr. Roberts' office. And of course I went as John. My first session was great! Dr. Mitchell seemed to understand so much about what I was feeling and going through. I found I talked and talked and talked. Before I realized it, 90 minutes had passed and I was making my appointment for next week. She also urged me to think about joining a TG group therapy session that she had every Thursday morning ? she said that she thought I would get a lot out of it. I said I'd think about it and agreed to discuss it the following week. I looked forward to my second session all week. We talked about my childhood and my earliest feelings about crossdressing and my relationship with my parents and my sister Caitlin. Before the session ended, Dr. Mitchell asked me something which really surprised me. She said, "Wouldn't you prefer to come and speak with me as Jennifer instead of as John?" "You mean, it would be OK with you if I came dressed as a girl?" I stammered. "Sure, why not?" she replied. "That's what it's all about isn't it? I'd have no problem with you dressing however you're most comfortable. I have many transgendered clients who come to see me dressed in the role they are transitioning into. I'm not trying to pressure you, but I want you to know that the choice is yours." "I think I'd really like to come as Jenny next week." "Wonderful," said Dr. Mitchell as she hugged me before saying good-bye. Well, I was on pins and needles waiting for my next session. I even needed Sarah to miss her Tuesday gym appointment to help me get ready and to drive me to my session. I worn a conservative grey wool skirt and a black and white sweater twin set. I also had on opaque black tights and new black pumps that Sarah had bought for me. Because it was cold out, I wore my long cream-colored wool coat and my cashmere scarf and gloves. I was very nervous as Sarah dropped me at the front door of the professional building where Dr. Mitchell had her office. I climbed out of the car up walked up the short path and up the front steps of the building. I opened the door and turned to wave good-bye to Sarah, but she had already pulled away from the curb. I was completely on my own. I entered the building and walked past the doors leading to the offices of various doctors, dentists, accountants and lawyers. I reached the elevator at the end of the hall and waited for the door to open. So far I hadn't run into any other people so I started to calm down. And then the elevator door opened and my heart stopped. The elevator was packed with businessmen in their dark suits and ties and overcoats. As they poured out of the elevator, each one gave me a quick smile and a "good morning," or "hello," or ? my favorite ? "excuse us, ma'am." I expect that the businessmen didn't notice anything unusual about me because they were in a hurry and probably distracted by whatever they were talking about in the elevator. And perhaps they didn't notice that I was different simply because they were men -- who I find are often rather clueless. I work hard to look as nice as possible, but I rarely think I look truly passable, especially up close in the light of day. Anyway, after that successful close encounter, I felt great and my nervousness disappeared, at least for a little while. I arrived at Dr. Mitchell's office and she was full of compliments. I had a wonderful hour chatting with Dr. Mitchell and ended the session feeling better about myself than ever. Dr. Mitchell practically insisted that I come to her Thursday TG group session and said that I should feel perfectly comfortable to come dressed as Jenny. When our session was over, Sarah was waiting in the reception area. I introduced her to Dr. Mitchell who offered to have a session with Sarah about all of this if she wanted ? Dr. Mitchell pointed out that partners and friends of people with "gender issues" often benefit from having someone to talk to. She also urged Sarah to encourage me to come to the Thursday group session. Sarah walked me out of the building as I gushed about the session and how I wanted to come back for the Thursday group session. Of course Sarah was enthusiastic. She was happy that I was getting out and mixing with other people. Well, Thursday came quickly. I was able to get myself ready on my own and to drive myself, as Sarah had a morning at the gym planned. It was a terribly cold January morning, so I wore some pretty black wool slacks that zipped up the side. I also wore my black suede boots and a pretty white angora blend sweater. It took me longer than usual to get my make- up just right but I managed to get to the session on time. I parked in the little lot behind the professional building and made my way to Dr. Mitchell's office with a lot more confidence than I had when I made the same trip just two days ago. I became a bit anxious as I climbed to steps to enter the building wondering if I might run into another gang of busy businessmen pouring out of the elevator on their way to an important meeting. I was both relieved and strangely disappointed when I encountered no one as I made my way up to Dr. Mitchell's office. The group therapy session was exciting, fun, emotional and educational all at the same time. There were four other "girls" in the group, all TSs in various states of their transitions. One girl had already had her SRS and the other three were living full time as girls and planning their SRS for sometime later in the year. All four of the girls were very welcoming and open and articulate in talking about their feelings and their experiences. I'm not one to brag, but I really think I was the prettiest one in the room, even though I wasn't in the process of really becoming a woman surgically. Also, I was just a beginner in being out in public while these girls had been doing it for ages. I also felt as if my bearing, my mannerisms, even my voice were more girlish than the others. I hate to sound so catty ? I really don't mean to be. It's just that my own confidence in my ability to pass had always been so low and my nervousness about being in public so high. Being with these other girls encouraged me to start to reassess my attitude about being in public. I learned two important things about myself in just the very first group session. First, was how lucky I was to have Sarah in my life, helping and supporting me the way she did. The other four girls in the room, while each had friends, none had the kind of loving and supportive relationship that I had. The second was more surprising. I found I had a lot in common with the other girls in many ways. However, unlike the other four, I didn't feel like a "woman trapped in a man's body," or the "God had made a mistake." I knew I was coming from a very different place. Over the next couple of weeks, I discussed this at length with Dr. Mitchell. You see, I don't dream of having SRS. I know I am male. I also know that I enjoy playing the part of a woman ? a passive, docile, obedient woman. I like being the caregiver. I enjoy the feelings that come from serving and pleasing another person. I am at peace when someone superior to me is making most of my decisions for me. I feel excited when I am able to transform myself into an attractive, feminine ? and desirable -- object. I feel fulfilled when I hear words of praise or appreciation for the things I have done around the house. And I quiver at the secret, guilty delight that all these sensations are forbidden to me because I was not born a female. The feeling of my silky smooth legs beneath a pair of nylons or the aromas and chatter that surround me during the hours spent in the salon or the sound my high heels make as we walk across the parking lot into the Old Water Mill Inn or the flush that comes to my cheeks when I come downstairs and see a bouquet of flowers on the table for me? I don't need SRS. I just need the feeling of leaving my old self behind and transforming into a lovely, delicate creature that exists for someone else's pleasure. In short, I am a sissy. A sissy whose only desire is to be the perfect housewife. Dr. Mitchell seemed to understand this, although she admitted that I was somewhat unusual among her clients. She made me understand that I was on an important journey of self discovery and that my feelings, unique or not, were important and valid. Over the next several months my confidence in myself and my sense of my own worth grew as did my love and respect for Sarah who was making all this possible for me. Life Around the House Now just because January brought many new experiences for me, don't think for a second that I let up on my household duties. And there seemed to be no end to the chores around the house. I still did my biggest, messiest chores on Wednesdays, a bandana wrapped around my hair and rubber gloves on my hands. The rest of the week included lots of laundry and routine cleaning, like vacuuming and dusting. Twice a week I would balance the checkbook and pay the bills sitting at Sarah's big desk in her home office. I had also become a very accomplished cook. In addition to the lessons at the YWCA (which were really very good, by the way), Sarah taught me to prepare her favorite recipes, including a lot of oriental dishes. I was making curry dishes and vegetable stir-fry dishes, along with more complicated dishes like lemon grass prawns and gingered duck. Sarah says that I am an excellent student. Also, Sarah had given me some interesting cookbooks and I became more adventurous in trying out new dishes and techniques. Around the house, I was most comfortable wearing dresses. I had a strong preference for a certain look. Dresses with short sleeves and full skirts that fell below the knees were my favorites. And I had lots of them. I had several dresses with pretty collars, some with pleated skirts and several that I wore with a skinny black patent leather belt cinched tightly around my corseted waist. Some were cut a bit low in front and I would enjoy seeing just a hint of my pretty lingerie peeking out. I'm sure I looked more like Lucille Ball or June Cleaver than the typical housewife in our town. But that's the way I liked it ? and I think Sarah liked it too. I always wore stockings and pumps around the house, some with open toes. I liked these shoes the best because it was fun to see my painted toe nails poking through the opening of my shoes. I'm sure these outfits don't sound very practical for taking care of housework, but once dressed like this, I became very motivated to get to work as the proper housewife I longed to be. I worked hard to make everything perfect at home for my lovely Sarah. And it took a lot of time and effort. And as my life became a bit fuller outside the house, I needed to be very focused and diligent at home, lest some chore go undone or some detail go untended. I still rose very early in the morning, about 5:30. I needed the early start to shower (and yes, shave), to get dressed and to do my hair and make-up. It was important to me that I looked nice and polished and attractive for Sarah when I work her up a little after 7:00. I still brought Sarah her breakfast in bed each morning. While Sarah ate her coffee and muffins we discussed the chores that needed to get done. Before taking the breakfast dishes back down to the kitchen, I would start Sarah's shower so that the water would be nice and warm by the time she stepped into shower. I would try to be back upstairs ten minutes later so that I could be there with a warm fluffy towel when she was done. I enjoyed gently drying her off, secretly eyeing her exquisite naked body while I did it. Sarah would giggle when I did this because it tickled a little. Because I had become so proficient and well educated in hair and make-up from all my hours in the salon, I increasingly did Sarah's make-up as well as my own. We bought a new stool that I could perch on while Sarah sat in the chair in front of the vanity we shared while I fixed her hair and applied her make-up. Doing Sarah's make-up was very different from doing my own. Not only was her coloring so different from my own but she also needed to wear so much less make-up to get a pretty result. I became good at blowing out her hair and getting a nice silky and subtly styled effect. On days when Sarah was just going into the office, we went for a natural look with pretty, neutral colors. But if she had lunch plans or an important client meeting, she might ask for a bit more color, a bit more glamour. I was all too happy to oblige ? I loved painting Sarah's lips in a deep, glossy burgundy and adding smoky or bronze shadows to her eyelids. Sarah was always pleased with my work and I felt I was really providing a very personal and valuable service to my darling spouse. By staying focused and organized, I was able to get a lot accomplished every day. I learned to iron while watching my favorite soap opera. And most days I was able to take a nice nap in the middle of the afternoon. I delighted in curling up for an hour or so in one of my cuddly nighties and drifting off to sleep, always setting my alarm to ensure that I would wake up in time to start Sarah's dinner. With my improving cooking skills I was able to make Sarah's dinner an ever more elaborate and special event. With my apron tied around my waist, I would prepare the evening's meal, changing into something a bit sexier than my daytime housewife outfit before joining Sarah in the dining room to eat. And then there was bed time. After the dinner dishes were put away and maybe an after dinner drink for Sarah, we would retire to the bedroom. It was important to me to look my loveliest for Sarah at bedtime. Sarah had helped me build an enormous wardrobe of the most beautiful silk and satin and lace nightgowns. Some were short and sweet, others were a bit trashy and trampy, while others were long and flowing and very classy. Early on I struggled with getting a pretty curvy shape while wearing a strappy, sexy nightgown. It didn't look right (nor was it very comfortable) to wear a bra and my regular breast forms under my pretty, skimpy nighties. My bright idea to fix this was to sew into the bust area of my nightgowns some light padding ? sewing stores sell soft foam bra liners for swim suits. With these sewn into the tops of my nightgowns, I had a delicate and natural looking fullness in my bust, without needing to wear a bra and falsies all night. And so attired in one of my sexy nightgowns, I would brush out my hair and freshen my lipstick ? and sometimes dab on just a bit more perfume ? before joining Sarah in bed. I know Sarah liked how I looked at bedtime. She would say the nicest ? and naughtiest ? things to me as I emerged from the bathroom. Sometimes we would light some candles to make the mood even more romantic. Something new that Sarah seemed to enjoy a lot was to sit on the edge of our bed with her warm robe wrapped around her. In my sexy nightgown, I would get on my knees on the floor between her legs and use my mouth to pleasure her. Sarah had repositioned some mirrors in our room, including a full length cheval mirror, such that she could watch the show while I worked on her with my month. While it was hard for me to see, Sarah clearly enjoyed the looking at the mirrors, seeing the back of her little feminine lingerie-clad lesbian lover on her knees positioned between Sarah's legs. As I worked on her and Sarah got hotter and hotter, her robe would start to fall from her shoulders. Soon, a nearly naked Sarah was reflected back in the mirror. Sarah's eyes would never stray from the scene playing out in the mirror, her legs wrapping around my back and her hands pulling my head hard into her as I used my lips, my tongue and my teeth the way Sarah had taught me, bringing her to wave after wave of wild orgasms. My Friend Vicki Obviously, I was finding my life at home to be very fulfilling, and that's an under statement. But January also brought another new and exciting dimension to Jennifer's life. I had met a girl named Vicki at my courses at the YWCA. She was the only other student who was in both my cooking and sewing class. She also figured out that John had a secret life and so I told her all about Jennifer. She thought this was thrilling. We exchanged phone numbers and we agreed to stay in touch after our classes ended. So I shouldn't have been surprised when the phone rang at the end of the first week of January and it was Vicki. She invited Jenny to come over to her place for lunch the following week. So we arranged to get together on Thursday. She gave me directions to her place and it was a date. I liked to dress conservatively when going out of the house. I wore a brown and black herringbone knit skirt and a black cashmere sweater and a string of Sarah's pearls and matching earrings. I had some pretty black and brown two-tone spectator pumps that looked great with this outfit. I checked my make-up, grabbed my purse and my coat and I was off. I had really liked Vicki at our classes, but I was pretty nervous about this meeting. Sure, she said she was enthusiastic about meeting Jenny, but I was certain that she had never been around a sissy who was all dolled up like a girl and I wasn't sure how she was going to handle this. I found her house. It took nearly 30 minutes to get there as she lived all the way on the south edge of town in the Mayfair area that is principally made up of smaller homes and some newer townhomes and apartments. Her house wasn't that far from Dr. Mitchell's and Dr. Roberts' offices. Once I arrived, I parked in her driveway and I made my way to the door of the modest split level house. Well, if I had any doubts about Vicki's ability to handle Jennifer, they were dispelled in the first five seconds after she opened the door. She squeeled with delight at seeing me and gave me a big hug as she pulled me inside. She said, "I knew it! I knew it! I was certain you'd be adorable! Look at you. Wow!" She hung up my coat and took in my outfit and let out a soft whistle. "You look so?elegant. Gosh, I feel so sloppy next to you." I told her not to worry about it. I told her if I could look as pretty as she did in jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt, I'd dress like that too. I'm not sure I really meant that, but it seemed like the right thing to say at the time. She showed me around her house and made me feel completely welcome. She treated me as if my being in her house dressed the way I was was the most natural thing in the world. As she showed me around, I noticed that the inside of her house wasn't particularly nicely decorated. In truth it was a bit dumpy. The house itself wasn't bad, it was a modest, 1970's split-level, not particularly large, but definitely OK. I think you'd call it a "starter home". It seemed as if they had just moved in, but she told she and her husband had lived in the house for a year and a half. She had planned a simple lunch of soup and sandwiches which was nice. As we ate and continued chatting, she offered me a glass a white wine, which I declined. She had one glass and then a second. With the second glass of wine in her she really started to open up. She talked about not having friends and being overwhelmed by taking care of the house. She talked about being far from her own mom and not knowing where to turn for help. Tears were starting to well up in her eyes as she spoke. She talked about not having any idea of how to do housework or decorate or cook or anything. She said she felt like a failure and how her husband couldn't hide his disappointment in her and how their relationship was becoming strained as a result. She explained that was why she took the cooking and sewing classes where I met her ? she was desperate to try anything to become a better homemaker. She was starting to pour herself a third glass of wine, but I gently put my hand on hers and told her I didn't think more wine was a good idea. She admitted that she had recently been drinking more as a way to escape from these feelings of helplessness and failure. I felt so bad for her. Here was this pretty, generous, friendly girl feeling so bad about herself. It was clear to me that she wasn't stupid or lazy, just, well, a bit lost. She didn't know how or where to begin to get her home set-up in a way she and her husband could be proud of and enjoy. And she had no one to show her the way. Maybe I could help. I made us both some tea and gently asked her to start from the beginning and to tell me more. I learned that her husband was a junior accountant at a firm in town and made a decent, but not overwhelming, salary plus Vicki worked three nights a week at a department store in the mall on the highway. So money wasn't really a problem, although clearly they didn't have any to waste. I asked her if the cooking classes hadn't helped a bit. She said that nothing she made at home came out like the way it did at the YWCA. That didn't make sense to me. That's when she showed me her pots and pans ? Yuch! They were awful. No wonder her dishes didn't turn out right. I pulled out the morning paper and showed Vicki that her own department store had a sale on a very nice set of cookware that was similar to what I used. Vicki acknowledged that she had gotten some money for Christmas and with her employee discount she could certainly afford to upgrade her pots and pans. And so that day we solved one little problem. I promised Vicki that every problem around the house was just as solvable and that I would help her. Together we would work on one problem at a time. Vicki was so overwhelmed by my offer to help that she burst into tears and hugged me hard. Vicki became not only my best friend but also a kind of project. We met for lunch at her place twice each week. I would drive over after my Tuesday and Thursday sessions with Dr. Mitchell, which was very convenient because I was already on that side of town. We practiced a little cooking using her new cookware by making a different dish for lunch each day. We would always prepare extra portions so that she could serve it for dinner to her husband in the evening. Then we would try to tackle some other issue in the house. One day we decided to work on drapes, focusing on the master bedroom, the living room and the dining room. I brought over a JCPenney catalogue and showed her that you could get very nice window treatments without spending a lot of money. I brought my own tape measure and showed her how to measure so she could order the right sizes for each room and window. We rearranged the furniture in the living room on another day and I showed her how she could change the look of the room for just a few dollars with a new slip cover for her sofa which looked kind of ratty. Another time I brought some framed prints that Sarah and I had in the attic that came from a vacation cottage we sold years ago. I thought to bring my own picture hanging hooks and hammer to hang the prints, figuring (correctly) that she would have none of these things herself. (I was proud of myself for hanging up the frames without breaking a single nail!) I even helped her pick out some lamps and area rugs off the Target website that she picked up and brought home. Once we got some of the big stuff straightened out, I helped Vicki organize the shelves and arrange some framed photos, including some nice wedding photos, and some other pretty decorative items that she had collected in a way that looked really nice. I pointed out to her that her dishwasher needed to be replaced and even taught her to iron well ? something that Sarah had only recently taught me how to do. And we had fun while we did all these projects. I also urged Vicki to cut down on the drinking. When I helped her rearrange her closet and drawers (and helped her fill three bags of clothes to give away) she was so overwhelmed with appreciation she broke down a cried. She held me and said how lucky Sarah was to have me and how any man would be thrilled to have a housewife like me. She later told me that she dreamed of becoming as talented a housewife as I was. With nice words like that I felt completely repaid for all the efforts I had made for Vicki. The results of our work together were almost instantaneous. Vicki's mood and self-esteem picked up right away. She reported that her husband noticed each and every improvement and was very pleased with the nice dinners Vicki was now able to prepare. I saw that there were some flowers in a vase on one of my visits. Vicki didn't mention anything about them, but I figured they were from her husband and I thought that was a very good sign. A couple of weeks later, Vicki described, more graphically than I might have preferred, how her husband was lavishing a great deal of attention and affection on her now that the house was becoming a true home. She became visibly flushed as she shared all sorts of lurid details with me. I guess girls talk with other girls about their relationships with men and sex, but this was all new to me and a bit disconcerting. And Vicki did something wonderful for me. It wasn't until I met Vicki that I realized just how accomplished I was as a homemaker. I took renewed pride in my housework and my cooking and my caring for Sarah. Vicki and I have been best friends ever since. After a couple of months, we seemed to need to do fewer projects and less household how-to lessons. But we still got together twice a week for lunch and conversation and sharing. And for those precious few hours each week I was truly a girl in the company of a delightful girlfriend. I hope you have enjoyed the latest installment of Jennifer's tale. If you haven't read the first three parts, please do so. There's a lot of know about Jennifer and Sarah. Please leave your comments in the Reviews section ? your comments are very important to me. I read all the Reviews and I check the Reviews section often. Let me know if you'd like to hear more about Jennifer's journey. If people are interested, I'll share more of her story.