BECOMING A FULL FLEDGED LEGAL AGED COCK LOVING FEM
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ose together until she shuddered with a strong
orgasm, triggering an equally strong response from me. I felt my seed
come in great spurts, again and again until the ach was gone and I
slowly shrunk and exited her.
I lay there in her arms not knowing which was better, being her woman
or having her as mine. But it didn't matter. I was with the person I
loved, I loved being a woman, and if she preferred me to be her woman,
that was fine with me.
With the way we looked at each other at work, it didn't take long for
people to figure out we were in love. Many of the women couldn't figure
out what Jo would see in such an effeminate man. I would occasionally
overhear rather cruel remarks intended to emasculate me; but how do you
emasculate a man that lives as a woman and is the woman in bed? The
remarks that did hurt where the ones directed at Jo, accusing her of
being some kind of sexual deviant or 'butch dike,' and the ones that
accused me of gold digging. We loved each other and what we did in bed
wasn't any one else's business. I certainly didn't want to know what
they did or didn't do in bed.
With my raise, I was able to afford breast implants, some minor
cosmetic surgery to alter the few small male physical features I did
have, and permanent hair removal.
Jo offered to move me up in the company but I declined. I wanted to
continue in my old position. I loved what I did and being in a passive
individual-contributor role suited my personality and temperament
perfectly.
Many of the girls treated me different once they found out I was the
bosses girl; more guarded, always on their best behavior. I guess it
was to be expected, but I missed the gossip, friendship, and
spontaneity we had shared. I felt like a third wheel at the Wednesday,
after work, get together and stopped going. A few like Ms. Smith, Mrs.
Williams, and Sue, of course, were just as open and relaxed with me as
before.
Plans for my wedding were coming together. I drew the wedding gown I
wanted and Sue turned it into a reality. It was classic beaded satin
and lace. The dress was off the shoulders with a low neckline and up
thrust bodice to accentuate my assets and maximize my cleavage. The
corsets I had been wearing had slimmed my waist nicely, giving me a
very feminine silhouette, adding greatly to the look of the dress. The
skirt was very full; with so many layers of taffeta, I couldn't count
them all.
By the wedding, we had expanded into a line of pants suits that sold
extremely well. Jo had Sue alter the most masculine and formal of the
line to look more like a tuxedo.
Jo would tease me that I should change one letter in my first name
John, and become Joan Cleaver. It was cute, but I liked Shirley better
and everyone knew me as Shirley. When we married, I became Mrs. Shirley
Cleaver. To avoid confusion, everyone called me Mrs. Cleaver and Jo Ms.
Cleaver, which sent the gossip mills into overtime for a while.
I cried tears of happiness as I walked down the isle in my gown,
looking at Jo standing so handsomely at the alter. The wedding was
beautiful and we spent a month honeymooning in Europe.
Jo had wanted to wait three or four years to have children. The
business plan called for a major expansion over the next few years. The
petite line and pants suits had been the foundation for expansion and
would require a couple more years of hard work and long weeks to get
them firmly established. I was a lot more eager to start a family but,
since I wasn't the one who would be carrying the baby and she was the
man of the house, I had to accept her time schedule.
After marriage, we quickly settled into a routine where she let me be
the man about twice a month, the other three or four times a week we
enjoyed intimacy, I was her woman and pleased her in any way she
wished.
We had just celebrated our one-year anniversary when Jo started getting
sick a lot; general nausea and fatigue, nothing specific. We should
have known, but we had been careful, and I was rarely the man anyway.
After a few weeks, she went to see her doctor who quickly determined,
we were going to have a baby. She came into work and dropped by my desk
with a worried look.
"We need to talk, Shirley," Jo said.
I knew it was serious because she always called me Mrs. Cleaver at
work. We went to her office and sat at her conference table.
"I don't know how to say this and I don't know how I feel about it. I'm
pregnant."
I grabbed her and hugged her screaming with excitement. She remained
silent and reserved so I quickly settled down. I looked at her and her
eyes had tears in them. I felt very uneasy as I let go of her and slid
back in my chair.
"You don't want our baby?" I asked, the fear and hurt clear in my
voice.
"I do Shirley. Just not right now."
I started to tremble and cry. I could see that she was seriously
considering an abortion.
"No," I said shaking and feeling a cold in the very core of my being.
"Not our baby. You can't."
Jo stiffened and in an angry tone said, "You are forgetting your place
woman. When we married, you agreed that I would be the master of the
house. As master, I decide what I will and won't do."
I slowly stood and looked down at her through my blurred, teary, eyes.
Taking a deep breath to ease the shaking, I softly said, "You are my
husband and the master of our house. I love you and want to spend the
rest of my life with you. After you decide what you are going to do
with our child, I will let you know what I will do with us."
I turned and started towards the door. She practically leaped out of
her chair and grabbed my arm.
"What do you mean, what YOU will do with us?" her eyes burning with
anger.
As tears flowed down my cheeks, I said, "I am just a foolish girl who
believes in dreams and happily ever after. You're much smarter and
worldlier than me. I don't think I need to explain it."
I tried to pull away and she screamed, "I am the master, you stupid
bitch," as she back handed me hard, knocking me to the floor. A little
dazed, I looked up at her. She looked as shocked as I was.
"Oh God! Shirley. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I I I."
She helped me to my feet and I pulled away. I felt the warm blood drip
from my nose and could taste it from the cut on my lip.
"I don't know you," I said as I backed towards the door, shaking so bad
I could hardly open the door.
I hurried out of the building, several people seeing me tried to ask if
they could help, but I just kept running. As I reached the parking lot,
I rounded a corner and literally ran into Sue. We caught each other and
didn't fall, but my face was right there for her to see.
"God Shirley! What happened to you?" Sue asked.
"I just fell," I said sharply.
"Well it was nice of someone to put their hand in the way to cushion
the fall."
She pulled some tissues out of her purse and cleaned up my face as I
stood their weeping. Leading me to her car, she opened the passenger's
side and told me to get in. Taking me to a restaurant, we had tea and
chocolate fudge brownies with ice cream as I told her about what had
happened and cried.
"Shirley. I started the business with Joanna's parents before she was
even born. She has been as much a part my life as my own kids. She has
always had a strong will and during those times when she got bullheaded
and hormonal at the same time, hell would run for cover."
I chuckled. I had seen Jo there a couple times and knew exactly what
she was talking about. You just got out of the way and let the storm
blow through.
Sue continued, "I am not making excuses for her. There is no excuse for
hitting a spouse. I know a baby wasn't in her plans for right now and
that when you're pregnant, the hormones can do nasty things to your
moods and mind. I hope she keeps the baby; it would be good for both of
you. The cards are on the table and you two need to talk; she needs to
balance the ledger in her mind before she can make a decision. But you
know that at the end of the day, she will do what she wants and that
the more you challenge her, the more she will dig in."
Sue took me home where I found Jo waiting. She had a big bouquet of red
roses and a box of chocolate for me. We hugged and we both apologized.
Jo talked for nearly two hours about how a baby would interfere with
her work, what she would have to change, what it would cost the
company, and how she just couldn't afford to take the time she would
need after the baby was born.
"I'm sorry Shirley. I just don't know what to do," Jo said, pretty much
talked out.
"All you have to do is get her here. I can quit and be a stay at home
mom. I would love it and you wouldn't miss more than a couple weeks of
work."
Jo looked at me like the light had come on. Hugging me she said, "I
didn't see the obvious. You are my wife; of course you should stay home
with the baby. I had my brain stuck in the, I'm carrying the kid, I
have to take care of it rut. Thank you Shirley, this is going to be so
much fun. I'm going to be a daddy!"
I was overjoyed she was keeping our baby, but that day left a mark in
my soul. While she apologized for hitting me, she didn't apologize for
calling me a 'stupid bitch;' she had disrespected and devalued me as a
person and she didn't see a need to apologize. I had always assumed
that with love came respect. I was no longer as naive as I once had
been.
I had seen a selfish cold side of Jo that scared me. I hadn't minded
her being controlling with me. I had always been passive, preferring to
let others make decisions so I wouldn't have to be responsible. I chose
to allow her to tell me what to do. But when she was willing to throw
away our child and I was helpless to stop it; something changed. I
could no longer be her totally submissive and passive wife. I was going
to be a mother and I had to grow up and accept some responsibility.
Jo didn't seem to notice a difference, but sex was no longer as
enjoyable as it once had been for me. There was an emotional distance I
barely recognized and I didn't know what to do with it. After Jeremy
was born I stayed at home and things seemed to get a little better, or
maybe I just adjusted to the change.
Just before Jeremy was born, I started taking hormones to promote
breast milk production so I could breast feed Jeremy. It made me
impotent, which made Jo angry; but to her it was a better option than
being up four times a night and pumping her breasts at work so I could
feed Jeremy.
Jo wanted me, wanted a man now and then instead of lesbian sex all the
time. But she had agreed that Jeremy needed to be breast feed; and it
would only be eighteen mounts. I would please her in other ways as best
I could.
One day she came home with a small hard jock cup with a silicone vagina
attached to the outside. Handing it to me, she said, "I want you to
start wearing this all the time."
"I don't understand," I said
"One. Since you're useless as a man right now and seeing you shriveled
up frustrates me, I would rather have you looked like a cunt when
you're undressed. Two. You're useless as a man so during sex I can
screw you from the front without worrying about smashing your balls, or
your dinky coming to life. And three. I can screw you like I would
screw any lesbian, from the front, so I can see your face and kiss your
lips as you enjoy having me up your ass and cum for me."
I was angry, feeling berated and thought of as nothing but a sex
object; and an undesirable one at that; but I knew my place. When we
were intimate that night, it was nice having breast against breast,
kissing as she worked me, and wrapping my legs around her as we
climaxed. But.
Several months later, Jo was at yet another one-week trade show. Jeremy
was 12 months old now and I was supplementing his breakfast with solid
food when the phone rang; it was Jo at the trade show.
"Hi Shirley. How is my love doing?"
"I'm doing great Jo. I'm feeding Jeremy and then we are going to go
play," I told Jo.
I put my nose against Jeremy's and wiggled it, "Aren't we cutesy?" He
let out a huge giggle and got creamed carrots on my nose. Getting back
to Jo, I asked, "So how is the show going?"
"It is going great! Good sales, a couple new large accounts; I just
wish you could be here with me. We have three more days and I really
miss you."
"I miss you too Honey. Maybe I can come on the next one. Jeremy is more
than old enough to travel."
"Sounds great sugar. Gotta go, a customer. Love you. By by."
"You know something Jeremy? Mommy has an idea. What if we surprise
daddy and go see him at the show. I could get tickets and we could be
there by four and have dinner, spend the night, and then come home
tomorrow?"
I caught a flight out at ten and was scheduled to change planes in
Dallas but the flight was canceled because of mechanical problems. By
the time they scheduled me onto another plane, we didn't arrive until
8:00 p.m. It was 9:15 by the time I reached the hotel, so with Jeremy
on my hip and a bouquet of red roses beginning to wilt in my hand, we
headed up to Jo's room.
I knocked on the door and heard a man say, "That must be room service
with the Champaign. I'll get it."
A Chippendale looking hunk in his early twenties opened the door and
stood there in boxers and a robe, hair messed up, and lipstick smudges
on his face.
"I'm sorry. I must have the wrong ..."
Jo came out of the bedroom in a red lace baby-doll with her hair and
makeup a mess. Our eyes met and I could see both embarrassment and
anger in her eyes. Embarrassment at being caught and anger that I would
come without her permission.
As the roses fell to the floor, I turned and ran to the elevator with
only Jeremy, the diaper bag, and my purse, leaving the luggage behind.
Jo called after me but I ignored her. I red-eyed home where there was
one messages from Jo saying she was sorry and that we would talk when
she got home. I cried most of the day and half the night.
I had sometimes worried about not being able to please Jo, but I
thought she was committed enough to stick it out for the eighteen
months.
When she arrived three days after my visit, I greeted her as I always
did with a big hug and kiss, acting like nothing ever happened. It was
clear she had expected a storm of tears and anger, which left her
confused and unsure of what to do.
I got her a drink, gave her a heads up on the important messages, and
sent her off to her home office while I finished dinner. At dinner, she
told me about the new accounts, some of the new fashion trends, and how
well the show had gone. As I unpacked her luggage and started the
laundry, she came into the laundry room. I gave her a peck on the cheek
and said I loved her.
"I think we need to talk," Jo said.
"Oh! About what dear," I said nonchalantly.
"You know." A bit of irritation was in her voice.
Continuing to sort the laundry, I said, "I was wrong to come
unannounced. I know I am not much of a man and a woman needs a real man
once in a while. You have given me a son, love, and provide well for
us. I love you and will always be grateful for our son and your love. I
wish I could be enough for you, but fate has denied me that. I accept
your needs and will not interfere. I only ask that you respect me, and
my position as your wife, by remaining discrete and keep the knowledge
of your affairs from me and our friends."
Jo stood there not knowing what to say. I had given my blessing,
allowing her to have an affair whenever she chose.
"I am sorry. This was the first time. I swear I won't do it again," Jo
said.
I looked at her, sadness on my face; the tears I once would have wept
gone. I reached up and gently took her face in my hands, pulled it to
me, and gently kissed her lips.
Looking deep within her eyes, I whispered, "How am I to believe any of
what you say?"
She stood their, tears in her eyes. My hands slipped from her face, I
turned, and left to do the dishes.
Two nights later, I fulfilled my wifely duties by being Jo's woman. For
me it was only physical, the love and it's passion now buried under
hurt and distrust. Jo tried, but I could tell she felt unfulfilled as
well. It was nearly two weeks until we came together again; and time
had not healed.
Jo asked me to arrange a babysitter for a date and to wear my LBD
(little black dress), a simple gold necklace and dangly earrings. We
would be going to dinner and the ballet.
It was like our first date; same restaurant, same table, even the Swan
Lake ballet again. As we left the ballet, I expected to go home and be
laid, but Jo drove me to her work and we went in. The building was
empty except for the two of us. She took me to the dressing room where
she had first seen me as a woman. It was full of memories for me; all
the hours Jo and Sue had spent teaching me to be a woman. The fun, the
friendship, the embarrassment, the laughs.
Jo lead me to the same mirror I had stood before my first day on the
job.
Standing behind me, Jo said, "Shirley. What do you see?"
I was more beautiful now than I was four years ago. More graceful, more
refined, real breasts with real cleavage instead of batting.
"I see a beautiful woman," I answered, sadness in my eyes instead of
the sparkle and coy smile I once had.
"And how does it feel to be a beautiful woman?"
After a long pause, I replied, "Like a cruel joke."
I knew that was neither the answer she expected nor wanted and saw it
tear through her heart like a dagger.
Jo pulled me tight and wept. After she settled down, she looked at me
with the same sadness I had seen in my own eyes minutes before.
Jo said, "You once said that I was smarter than you. At the time, I
believed that I was. I excelled academically and have a flair for
business. But compared to you, I am a fool. I know and understand how
to run a business and make money. You understand love. You understand
loyalty. You understand character. You understand compassion. You
understand the things in life that have real value and make it worth
living.
What I have done is unforgivable. I struck you. I was willing to deny
our child. I betrayed your trust. I treated you without respect. I was
a fool. I am a fool."
I knew how hard it was for Jo to say those things. She was so prideful
and admitting a mistake or flaw was painful for her.
She continued, "I know that you are loyal and will stand by my me
despite what I have done; I don't understand how or why; but I know it
to be true. You are a better person than I.
I have you physically, but I have lost your heart. I have hurt you too
deeply. I do not deserve your trust and I will not insult your
intelligence by asking you for it.
Since the hotel, I have had you on my mind constantly. I have spent all
my time thinking about us, why I did what I did, how I can earn your
love and trust again. I talked with Sue and told her what I did. She
said marriage only works when you are partners in life, not master and
servant; when you are honest and loyal. I thought about that a lot.
I want to be your partner Shirley. No more master of the house and
wife. Just Shirley and Joanna, husband and wife, friends, equal
partners in life with equal weight given to our individual needs.
Whenever you need to be my man, I will gladly be your wife. If I need
you to be my wife and you are willing, I will be your husband. No more
demands. I want us to freely share our love at a time, in a place, and
in a way, we are both comfortable with."
I was crying now. I had expected her to continue being an ass. To
continue lying to me and using me.
"Shirley, I know it will take time, and maybe I never will earn your
trust; but if you let me, I will spend the rest of my days trying. I
want you to love me as much as you did the first time we came together.
I will be your wife and become Mrs. John Shirley if that is what you
want. I love you and I want you more than anything in the world."
Oh gag. Mrs. John Shirley? I'd rather be Mrs. Joan Cleaver. I'll stick
with Shirley Cleaver, thank you.
"My greatest fear," Jo said, "is that I have wasted my chance for that.
I would understand if you decided to leave. I have advised women who
work for me to leave husbands who hit and cheat. I would only add
hypocrisy to my list of sins if I said you should stay. If you wish to
leave, I will give custody of Jeremy to you if that is what you want.
You are a better mother than I could ever hope to be and both of you
will be well provided for."
Tears filling Jo's eyes, she continued, "You are my hero Shirley. I
aspire to have the love, loyalty, and honor you have. Please help me to
find that within myself. Please give me another chance."
As I looked in the mirror, I could see the tears in my eyes and a
trembling smile on my face.
"The question isn't, 'how does it feel to be a beautiful woman?'," I
said. "The question is how does it feel to be Mr. and Mrs. Joanna
Cleaver."
Turning to face Jo, I slid my arms around her neck, pulled her close,
gently and warmly kissed her lips feeling my love for her coming back
to life.
As I marveled at the beauty I called my husband, I said, "It feels like
we are home."
Cayleigh
- 13.10.2020
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