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Warning: As well as the usual transvestite themes this story contains graphic descriptions of both hetero' and homosexual sex. It also deals with incest; so be warned. If you don't want to read this sort of stuff, you know where the OFF button is! Consequences. By Belle Gordon. Chapter One My decline into immorality and depravity began the morning I was summoned into the Headmaster's office. With only another week till the end of the school year, my class was not doing anything important. The exams were all finished and as final year students, we were spending our time researching for our futures, be they paid employment or third level education. At 17 (nearly 18) I was excited to be leaving school and starting a career in the real world. I had been accepted by a teaching hospital to study nursing, and assumed this was the reason for the summons. On entering his office, a room I had only ever visited once before, I saw middle aged man sitting in the only other chair. He wore a brown pin-strip suit with shiny knees and fiddled with a brown felt trilby hat. He looked ill at ease. The headmaster gestured towards him and said, "Ashford, this gentleman would like a word with you." 'This gentleman' stood and offered me the chair. "I'm Chief Inspector Durham," he announced when I was seated, "and I'm afraid I have some sad news for you." I could only offer an, "Oh?" I was beginning to get a little alarmed. I'd never before had a visit from a Chief Inspector (or any other rank of policeman for that matter). And the fact that he had sad news was worrying. "Are you Andrew Ashford?" I nodded. "Of 'The Laurels', Grafton Lane?" Again I nodded my head. "Then it's my sad duty to inform you that your mother, Mrs Ashley Ashford, was killed in a road traffic accident at 8:30 this morning. She was pronounced dead on arrival at the county hospital and I would like you to accompany me there to make a formal identification of the body." That was it. Talk about a bombshell? No effort to soften the blow or to couch the news in less harsh terms. It was simply an emotionless statement of fact, a brutally dry announcement that my beautiful mother was dead. It took me several minutes to absorb what he had said and for the full impact to sink in. At first I thought it was some elaborate joke, an end of term prank, but when I looked at the two men I realized that they were deadly serious. Then I thought it must be some sort of mistake, a case of mistaken identity, but a senior policeman wouldn't waste his time or be so unfeeling unless he was absolutely sure. No this nightmare was real. I began to cry. Silently at first, the tears running down my cheeks, then my sobs became uncontrollable and for many minutes I shook with grief. I vaguely heard the Head' ask his secretary to bring a glass of water and then felt a comforting arm round my shoulder and Mrs Cheshire was wiping my tears. After a while I calmed down and I blew my nose. I took a deep breath and said, "Ok, let's go." I could think of nothing else to say, my mind was numb. I was too shocked to think of all the questions I should be asking. The drive to the hospital mortuary seemed to pass very quickly and I found myself standing in a cold smelly room with lots of steel doors along one wall. A man in a green hospital gown, a plastic apron and white Wellington boots consulted a clipboard before opening one of the doors. A stretcher was slid out upon which lay a shrouded body. The man pulled down the top two feet of sheet exposing the head and shoulders of a young woman. He glanced at the body then looked at me, indicating I should come and look. I took a deep breath and stepped forward. There lying on her back was my beautiful, beautiful mother. She looked so peaceful, as though asleep. There were no marks or wounds visible on her face or shoulders. Her red painted lips contrasted starkly with the deathly white pallor of her skin. Someone must have combed her hair I thought. "Oh Mummy!" I cried. "What's happened to you? Please wake up; I want you to come home with me. You're going to be alright." I fell forward and frantically kissed her face eyes and lips. "Mummy, Mummy, wake up. It's Ok. Please, don't leave me. I miss you so much." I felt strong arms lifting me away from her. The sheet was replaced and the stretcher silently disappeared into its locker. The door swung shut and that was the last time I saw my adorable mother. She was cremated three days later. The Chief inspector, satisfied with my identification, left me in the charge of a young constable. He was very sympathetic and bought me a cup of tea in the canteen. "What happened?" I asked him. "They were waiting at traffic lights when a truck swerved across the road and slammed into them. Your mother was killed instantly and the other woman passenger is in intensive care" Other woman? Then I remembered. Aunt Alice was with her. I had forgotten they were going to work together as they always did. "Oh, my God! Can I see her?" I asked. "She is all I have left now." More tears started to flow down my cheeks. "I'll have a word with the doctor." He said. "I'm sure it'll be alright. But I think she is still unconscious." A West Indian doctor opened the door of the Intensive Care Unit and led me to her bedside. Aunt Alice was hooked up to lots of wires and tubes. Boxes of flashing lights blinked and clicked monitoring her vital signs. The top half of her head was swathed in bandages totally covering her eyes, with only the tip of her nose and mouth visible. "Is she going to be alright?" I asked. "The next 24 hours will be critical but we feel she has a good chance of recovery. Unfortunately her eyes have been severely damaged and I'm afraid she will be blind for the rest of her life. Also there could be some brain damage but we won't know for sure till she regains consciousness." I was stunned. No only had I lost my mother but her sister was going to be physically and maybe mentally handicapped. The only two people in the world I could call family were gone or changed. My world had suddenly fallen apart. Chapter Two My mother was born just 2 minutes and 35 seconds before her sister. The babies matched each other perfectly. Not only were they identical but they were also two of that small percentage of monozygotic twins that are a mirror image of each other. Meaning that my mother was right handed and Alice was left. Mother's hair whorls were clockwise; Alice's went anticlockwise. The crown of mother's head was on the right side and Alice's on her left and so on. As they grew it became increasing difficult to tell them apart. Not only did they dress alike but their mannerisms and speech patterns were the same. Throughout their schooling they were constantly confused with the other, much to the teacher's chagrin and their delight. Often they used their resemblance to their own advantage, swapping identities to suit their own ends. It was as a result of this interchanging that I came into being. Alice had had a date with an older boy, a fourth year medical student but wasn't able to go. As she didn't wish to disappoint him or risk losing him, Ashley agreed to take her place. At fifteen both girls were blossoming into stunning beauties and were the subject of much attention from horny boys. Their hair was long and blonde and during school hours invariably worn in a ponytail. Their bodies were acquiring womanly shapes with firm young breasts, shapely butts and long slender legs. In short they were every teenage boy's wet dream. The date started off perfectly normally, they went to the pictures and a pizza parlour. Then he parked his car in a well known 'lovers lane'. Perhaps my mother was partly at fault for not discouraging the guy, but by allowing him to kiss her, his raging hormones took over and the resulting rape left her pregnant. His name was Davy Chesterfield. He was from a wealthy and influential local family; a family who could ill afford to have such a scandal attached to their name. Consequently, the matter was hushed up and a substantial amount of money was paid for the baby's upkeep and to ensure silence. Two days after their sixteenth birthday I was born. If anything the birth brought the girls even closer together. They shared the nursing and nurturing and to their credit they still managed to complete their schooling. Their parents, my grandparents, were a great support and without their help and the payola, things might not have been so easy. I was named Andrew after my maternal grandfather, a man long dead by the time I was born. Throughout my childhood I was sickly and didn't thrive well. I inevitably contracted all the diseases that were going such as measles, chickenpox, mumps and was prone to colds and the flu. Because of my failure to flourish properly from an early age, I was small, (I'm still only 5'9") with spindly arms and legs, small hands and feet and a skinny torso. I was sensitive and shy, and tended to avoid other people's company. Despite this I was often complemented on how pretty I was, being frequently mistaken for a girl. (Much to my annoyance and blushing embarrassment, but to my mother's great joy). I had inherited their blonde hair and china blue eyes as well as my Mother's 'Angelina Jolie' lips. It was often noted how alike Mother and I looked. Grandma, who had become a third mother to me passed away when I was twelve. She had been my daily companion and from her I had learnt how to cook and clean. I felt a huge loss at her going. Granddad had died years earlier, killed by the cigarettes he'd been enslaved to all his life. So from then on it was only the three of us. Neither Mother nor Aunt Alice had shown any inclination to marry. It seemed the rape had turned them both against the entire male population, but neither did I think, they were lesbians. They were happy and content as two single girls with a shared child. On completing school they found work together as sales assistants in a large department store. They worked diligently and competently and were soon promoted to senior sales assistants, a promotion that entitled them to certain perks, one of which was generous employee discounts. These they used to purchase all their clothing needs. Every item bought was duplicated. So that if one girl liked something she would buy a second knowing that the other would also like it. They dressed alike not to maintain their twin identities but because their tastes in nearly all things were identical. After Grandma's death I necessarily spent a lot of time on my own. When school ended at four o'clock I'd cycle home and engage myself with homework and a little house cleaning, which I was now expected to do. I'd prepare a meal for when the sisters arrived home from work at six thirty. Saturday was a working day at the store, which meant the girls were gone all day. I used the day to do the weekly laundry, then spent the rest of it wandering round town or going to the cinema. Sundays were our family days together and we always looked forward to them. If the weather was sunny and warm we'd often drive out into the country, exploring the nearby Cotswold Hills. We'd stop for a picnic at some picturesque spot or scenic viewpoint. They were without doubt the happiest of times. Chapter Three It was three months before Aunt Alice was discharged from hospital. She had regained consciousness on the fourth day after the accident and was moved into a general ward. She was seen by numerous specialists and many tests where done on her to determine her mental well-being. Fortunately it appeared that she had no serious or permanent brain damage but was suffering from retrograde amnesia, which meant she was unable to retrieve her long-term memory of events that occurred before the trauma to her brain. It was hoped that the amnesia would gradually disappear, and her full memory return, which was usually the case. During her convalescence Aunt Alice had been taught to use a white cane and had begun learning Braille. She underwent a course of physiotherapy to strengthen her muscles, which had become weakened from non-use. Also during this period the courts had awarded us a huge sum of money as compensation. Fortunately she was not required to attend the court, as the action was uncontested: the haulage company accepted full responsibility. This meant that Aunt Alice wouldn't need to worry about money again. Since my mother's death my life had become unfocused, I felt as though I was drifting around on an open sea with no compass. I had no direction or purpose to my life. When not at the hospital I would spend my days moping about the house, unable to concentrate on anything. I spent hours sitting in her bedroom staring at the things cluttering her dressing table. I opened the drawers of her vanity unit and examined her lingerie. I became intrigued and fascinated by the different materials and items. They were totally unlike those worn by a boy. For instance, I noticed that even though we both wore underpants, mine were boring cotton Y-fronts, whereas she wore lovely soft silky things, adorned with ruffles of lace and tiny satin bows, and they came in many different styles: high cut, bikini, hipsters and French knickers. (Terms I only learnt later). I closely studied her brassieres. I of course knew what their purpose was but had never looked closely at their construction. I discovered she was a size 36C and so, presumably, was my aunt. Like her panties her bras were of many and varied styles. I found that the bras often matched the panties and occasionally a suspender belt completed the set. These were also gorgeously decorated with lace and tiny bows and on some, little embroidered roses. Their colours ranged from sexy black through shades of pink, blue, violet, and scarlet to virginal white. I looked in her wardrobe and closet and found her slips, nightgowns, blouses and dresses in sumptuous satins and silks, along with more mundane jeans, rayon skirts, cotton tops and soft lambs' wool sweaters. In another location I discovered her many pairs of shoes. Like her underwear there were many styles and colours, from strappy sandals on spindle heels to sensible walking shoes with chunky heels. One night I slept in my mother's bed, and I found I derived a great amount of comfort from it; somehow feeling closer to her. When I buried my face in her pillow I could smell her lingering scent. Her room was permeated with her aromas, a mixture of perfumes, make-up, colognes and all the other unique smells of a woman. I started using her bathroom so as to be among her shampoos, conditioners, moisturizing creams, bath oils and all the other bottles and jars women find indispensable for their daily toilet. I took to using her bath, filling it with water and pouring in her favourite bath salts and bubble bath. I would lie in the water till it was almost cold before reluctantly getting out and drying myself with her big downy towels. I'd dust my body with her talcum powder using her big fluffy puff to dab my skin inhaling its flowery scent. Then I'd wander around the house stark naked enjoying the unconstrained freedom, and then relishing the risky excitement that someone might call to the house or see me through a window. Among the many items in her bathroom was a packet of five pink lady shavers. I puzzled for sometime over why she would have a razor and shaving foam until the penny dropped and I understood that smooth legs and armpits didn't happen naturally. I wondered what it would feel like to have hairless legs and body. I was not endowed with much body hair so it wasn't much of a job to remove it. The resultant smoothness was a surprising and pleasurable feeling. At about this time I began wearing her nightgown to sleep in. I discovered it under her pillow one night and I had held it clutched to my chest as I slept. It was made from pale pink satin, was knee length and had thin little straps crossing the shoulders. The bust was adorned with white lace, as was the hem. I'm not sure what made me put it on; perhaps I hoped I would I feel closer to her, but as the silky article slid over my head and I smoothed it down my naked body, I was amazed that I got an instant erection. I walked around her room, the soft material sliding against my hairless body and felt an irresistible urge to masturbate. I stood before her long mirror and grasped my rigid cock. After only a few strokes I ejaculated spectacularly soaking the inside of the nightie with a huge quantity of semen. I was taken completely by surprise at this result and put it down to abstinence, for I had not 'taken myself in hand' since mother's tragic death. I was fourteen when I discovered the joy and pleasure of masturbation. I was occasionally privy to whispered conversations amongst the boys, whenever I was allowed into their company. Being small and wimpish I was a natural target for bullying and was normally excluded from the gangs and cliques they formed. I was usually jeeringly told to go and join the girls as I looked like one anyway. Their talk and sniggered descriptions of their own wanking adventures intrigued me so that I resolved to try it for myself. I duly succeeded in bringing myself to a clumsy climax one afternoon as I lay in a warm bath soaking after a particularly punishing game of rugby. (I swear the P.E. master picked me to play full back knowing I would be the target of the opposing front row.) After that first memorable occasion, which produced only a few small drops of clear fluid, there was no stopping me. My hand was in my trousers at every opportunity, bringing myself off several times a day. My semen production increased dramatically also, so that six months later I was spurting prodigious amounts. From then on I wore one of her nighties every night. I also began trying other clothing items on. First a pair of panties, which I discovered, had the same result. I got incredibly hard and could not resist wanking into them. Then I progressed to a matching bra, which I stuffed with panties or handkerchiefs, then a suspender belt and stockings. Soon I was wearing complete outfits. Underwear, stockings or tights, dresses or skirt and blouses. I plundered her entire wardrobe trying on everything she owned. Whenever I returned to the house I immediately threw off my boy's stuff and dashed into her bedroom to don whatever I'd selected earlier. I became totally addicted to her clothing and only felt comfortable when dolled up in one of her lovely dresses. I also began experimenting with her make-up, it being the next logical step in my endeavour to look like a woman. The first few attempts were disastrous. I looked like a circus clown, with huge smudged and lop-sided lips, eyes looking like I'd been in a fight, and the face powder so thick it cracked when I smiled. But slowly I became better at it. I studied women's magazines looking for tips and watched television programmes intended for women. After a lot of practice I became very accomplished and could make my face up in several different ways depending on whether it was for daytime, evening, or formal. The pleasure I got from her clothes soon led me to start wearing panties and a bra all the time, even when visiting my Aunt Alice in hospital. I would carefully select the underwear I wanted, then bathe and powder myself, before dressing in jeans and a baggy sweater. One day I was over generous with the cologne I sprayed on and Aunt Alice noticed it as I sat at her bedside. "Have you been using my perfume?" she asked. "No," I replied truthfully. I had forgotten that they both used the same brand, "It was in Mummy's bathroom, and I just thought I'd try it." "That's Ok," she said. "It smells lovely. Would you bring some for me the next time you come?" Fortunately she didn't query what I was doing in Mummy's bathroom. "Of course." This seemed like an open invitation for me to investigate Aunt Alice's bedroom and bathroom. Funnily enough I had not entered her quarters at all since the accident, and very few times before, so I was quite excited as I opened her door and stepped in. The rooms were slightly smaller than Mummy's. She kept her demesne very much tidier that mommy did. Everything was hung carefully in her closet, her dressing table was clear of the clutter that covered mum's, and her bed was properly made. I opened her wardrobe door and looked inside. The hangers were filled with identical clothes to the ones in Mummy's room. I had forgotten that they always bought the same things since their tastes as well as their appearances were identical. This left me with a feeling of disappointment as I'd looked forward to wearing some new things. I should have realized; hadn't I been doing their laundry for ages. I knew perfectly well that what one wore, so did the other. By the time Aunt Alice was discharged from hospital I was a dedicated and enthusiastic cross dresser and was dreading having to curtail my activities. I hated the thought that I wouldn't be able to prance and mince about the house in all my feminine finery (I now thought of Mummy's clothes as my own) now that my Aunt would be living with me. I continued sleeping in Mum's nighties but reluctantly decided to move back into my own room. Aunt Alice took a while to settle in. Although she knew the geography of the house it took a lot of practice before she was able to navigate her way around without bumping into various pieces of furniture. She spent many hours each day sitting in the lounge listening to the radio, or to talking books on her personal stereo. She received these every few weeks by post and they gave her great pleasure. It was curious, but I still hadn't fully accepted her sight loss and still imagined she could see. I found myself testing her to ascertain that she was in fact blind. I would quietly enter the room and stand before her. She appeared to be looking at me through the dark, wrap around glasses she now habitually wore. (They had been supplied by the hospital so that the scarring on her sightless eyes would not alarm strangers). I would pull faces at her and wave my arms about but get no reaction. I'd suddenly shout her name and see her jump at the sudden noise; she not realizing I'd entered the room. One evening after I bathed, I slipped one of Mummy's silk bathrobes over my shoulders. I crept down the stairs and peeped into the lounge. Aunt Alice was sitting in her customary chair, headphones over her ears listening to a tape. I tiptoed into the room and walked in front of her. With my heart beating with excitement I opened the robe and exposed my naked body to her. I could see myself reflected in her dark glasses and the thrill of committing such a shameless act gave me an immediate erection. But I lost my nerve and quickly left scurrying back to my room where I masturbated to an explosive climax. After this I was sure she really couldn't see and became much bolder. I would sit opposite her and expose myself. I would slowly masturbate as I talked with her. It was very eerie and unsettling to be blatantly wanking myself in front of her. But the thrill I got from it was exquisite. Sometimes I stood directly in front of her, no more that two feet away and stroked my rampant prick. I gazed at her lips as she talked and wondered what it would feel like to push my throbbing cock between them. On occasions I had to quickly turn away when I came so as not to shoot my jism into her face. One evening I stood naked in front of her and masturbated whilst she ate a bowl of muesli. I watched enraptured as her sensual lips wrapped around the spoon and sucked the cereal from it. In my mind's eye her lips were sucking my cock and the image was so powerful I came before I could turn away. My spunk shot from my cock head and landed squarely in the middle of her dish of food. I stared in horrified fascination as she spooned a dollop of my hot sperm into her mouth and ate it. After this I frequently laced her food or drinks with liberal helpings of my cum. She consumed the stuff on her breakfast porridge, on deserts where it mixed well with cream. I ejaculated oodles of it into her cocoa and her milkshakes. Soon she was consuming almost my entire production. I resumed my cross dressing; now unashamedly parading around the house wearing the sexiest underwear I had. I would take a long time preparing myself, making sure my make-up was perfect, then enjoying the thrill of dressing in bra, panties, garter and stockings. Being in Aunt Alice's presence so adorned kept me in a state of permanent erection. I began pushing my daring, almost as if I wanted her to know. I would sit opposite her, cross my legs and rub my nylon-clad legs together, creating that wonderful sound so loved by transvestites. I watched closely as Aunt Alice cocked her head to one side trying to identify the noise. I became bolder and began wearing heels. I would walk across the timber floor of the hall making the unmistakable click, clicking of stiletto heels on a hard floor. I walked into the room where she sat, and although the floor was carpeted the sound was still loud enough to hear. "Andrew, are you wearing high heels?" she asked suddenly as I minced into the room. "Yes, Aunty" I said. "Would you mind telling my why?" she wanted to know. "Practicing." "For what?" "For the college ball," I lied. "And anyway I rather like wearing high heels. I love the feeling and extra height I get from them." "That's a very odd thing to do. Still if you want to I suppose it does no harm." From then on I wore mummy's shoes all the time except when going out, and even then if I thought I could get away with it, I'd wear a pair of her flats. Going out with Aunt Alice was fun. Because of her blindness, dark glasses and white cane no one seemed to notice me guiding her. So I began wearing mummy's jeans or slacks with a blouse or top, the kind of stuff that was fairly unisex. Beneath I would of course wear bra and panties and often a camisole top. The suggestion of shoulder straps and lace front that could be glimpsed through the blouse I found very exciting. On one such trip Aunt Alice said she would love to get her hair done. In the months since she had been home I had regularly washed, combed and brushed her hair. I had become quite adept at styling and setting it in rollers. I'd even trimmed it, cutting off the straggly and split ends, but my efforts were nowhere like a professional job. "I have a better idea," I said. "There's a guy on my course who used to be a professional hairdresser before he decided to give it up to become a nurse. I know he still does it in the evenings for some of the girls, and I'm sure he would come to the house and do yours. Shall I ask him?" "Oh yes, that's a good idea. I am a still a bit self-conscious about my eyes." Chapter Four His name was Adrian Wall, and because we were studying the same course we had become friendly. We would spend our lunch breaks together, talking about our interests and pastimes. I was immediately attracted to him. I was infatuated with his rugged good looks, his Brad Pitt features, and his masculine attitude. He was all the man I was not; all that I longed to be, so I was quite surprised and flattered that he saught me out to be his friend. I envied the ease with which he attracted girls and secretly wished I was one of his conquests. I was fairly sure I was heterosexual, although, I was unsure of my feelings toward him. Up to this point in my life I'd had no experience with either sexual inclinations, being the virgin I was. He came over on Saturday afternoon the next weekend. I had already shampooed and conditioned her hair when he arrived and she was waiting in the kitchen with a towel wrapping her head, turban fashion. While he set to work on her I showered and carefully washed and conditioned my own hair. I had not had it cut since before the accident and now 9 months later it was getting quite long and definitely needed some attention. I powdered with mimosa talc and dressed in a bra, panties, a white silk camisole and a mannish thin white cotton blouse that I knew my underwear would be visible through. I resisted the temptation to insert my newly acquired breast forms, leaving the bra cups empty. In an attempt to make my crossdressing not too obvious I wore a pair of mummy's grey flannel slacks and flat sandals through which my painted toenails peeped. I had this compulsion to let Adrian see me as the transvestite I'd become. I subconsciously wanted him to know I was wearing women's underwear but I pretended to myself that I'd be safe from exposure and he wouldn't notice. I was just kidding myself, of course. He'd have had to be blind and stupid not to notice; I was fooling only myself if I thought he'd not discern the bra straps through the back of my blouse or not see my painted toes. Although I wore women's clothes all the time at home with Aunt Alice, (and I was fairly sure that she knew, or at least suspected), this was the first time I was intentionally letting another person know my secret. I wasn't sure what his reaction would be but the knowledge that he would know that I was wearing feminine underwear was extremely exciting and gave me a huge buzz, not to mention an erection. While he was attending to Aunt Alice's hair I minced around the room swaying my hips in a provocative manner, and generally being as feminine and flirty as I was able. I was very conscious of him watching me. When he'd finished with Aunt Alice and removed the cape I asked, "Adrian, would you mind giving me a trim too?" "Sure," he said, "sit in the chair and let me have a look at you." I sat with my back to him as he pulled a comb through my still damp hair. He moved to the side and the front studying my head. I felt him running his fingers through my hair and lifting it off my shoulders. "Mmm," he said, pondering the problem. "I think I can do something with it. Have you any preferences?" "I love how you've done my Aunt Alice's," I said, "perhaps you could do something similar for me?" He had cut and styled her hair in a simple pageboy bob, with a slight under curl at the sides and back. He'd also expertly layered it giving it plenty of body. He had added blonde highlights to her natural blonde colour and cleverly trimmed her fringe in such a way that it detracted somewhat from her dark glasses making her look less obviously blind. "Of course sweetie, I know exactly what you want. Leave it to me." He had dropped his hands onto my shoulders and made it obvious that he was feeling my bra straps by rubbing his hands back and forth over them. Giving me a squeeze he draped the cape about me and set to work. He chatted with Aunt Alice and I for the hour it took him to do my hair. When he'd finished he led me to the large mirror over the fireplace so that I could see the end result. I was gob smacked. He had cut my hair in exactly the same style as Aunt Alice's, even adding the same highlights. "Oh my God!" I gushed. "It's wonderful. You couldn't have done it any better. I love it." I turned this way and that looking at it from all sides. I realized I would have to comb it out into a more boyish style before I went back to college, but for now it was perfect. I glanced at Aunt Alice in the mirror. We could easily be mistaken to twins except that Aunt Alice was a little older looking and of course she wore her dark glasses. If we dressed alike I was sure we could pass ourselves off as identical twins. I turned back to Adrian to thank him again and was flabbergasted to see him standing with his trousers open and his hard cock in his hand. "Time to pay my fee, sweetheart," he whispered into my ear. His hands reached up to my shoulders and pressed downward. I intuitively knew what I was expected to do and slowly sank to my knees. If I had stopped to think I would have baulked at holding another man's penis. Never before had I held a huge, hard pulsing cock, but I instinctively grasped it with both hands and stroked its length. My left hand slipping inside his boxers and gently squeezed his swollen balls whilst my right slowly wanked his shaft. He placed his hand on the back of my head and lightly pulled me towards the impressive weapon that pulsed before my eyes. With an eagerness that surprised me I brought my mouth to the shining head of his pole and took it in. The sensation of sucking this hot live thing into my mouth caused my own prick to jump to attention and I could feel pre-come dribbling from its eye. The experience was made infinitely more exciting by the fact that Aunt Alice was sitting not three feet from where I knelt avidly sucking another man's cock. I hoped she wouldn't suspect what was going on from the slurping noises I was making. Adrian kept up a constant chat as if nothing untoward was happening. He held my head firmly in his hands and began to fuck my face. His trousers and boxers had fallen to his ankles and he almost fell when I brought him to his climax. How he managed to keep talking in a calm relaxed manner as he erupted a vast quantity of spunk into my mouth and throat I shall never know. I swallowed frantically as the stuff kept pouring out of him and he kept jamming his cock further into my throat. I began to think I would choke if he didn't soon stop, but eventually his thrusts eased and the man-liquor slowed and stopped. I gulped it all down then diligently licked every last drop from his lovely penis. Finally his flaccid flesh slipped from my mouth. I was left with a feeling of regret and the lingering taste of his sweet cum. I was reluctant to lose it, but he casually pulled up his shorts and trousers. He collected his equipment together and packed it into his satchel. He said, "I'll be going now. If either of you ladies need my services again please let me know." "What about payment?" Aunt Alice asked. "Don't worry about it. Ashley has looked after me." And with that he wished Aunt Alice and myself a good day before walking out of the house. "See you on Monday, Ashley," he called as he closed the front door. "Who is Ashley?" Aunt Alice enquired. "It's what some of the guys call me at college." "Why?" "Well, Andy, Ashley. It sort of makes sense, and because I'm small and look kind of girly. I'm often mistaken for a girl you know. Tell you what," I said, changing the subject. "Why don't I make up your face, we get dressed up and go out somewhere? It's been ages since we enjoyed ourselves." "Ok, you're on," she said. "I feel like a little bit of fun." I had been waiting for a long time for an opportunity to venture out dressed as a woman. On several occasions I had been fully made up and dressed then at the last minute my nerve had failed me and I'd gone back to my room disappointed at my lack of resolve. But now that I'd proposed the outing and Aunt Alice had accepted I was committed. Chapter Five Sitting at her vanity I went to work on her face. She had been extremely fortunate that the accident had not marked her face: only the area around her eyes had been scarred, which was hidden behind her glasses. I used a small amount of foundation on her flawless skin, a light blusher on her cheeks and lipstick. I wanted to make up her eyes but she refused to remove her glasses. I painted her fingernails and toes one shade darker than her lips. "How do you know how to apply make-up so expertly?" she asked. "I don't know. I'm just a natural I guess." I didn't say that I had been practising for months on myself with Mummy's stuff and was now very accomplished. I went to her closet and selected a knee-length, black crepe cocktail dress. It was embroidered with a silver thread detail on the bust and shoulder straps. It was paired with a small bolero style jacket with short puff sleeves. Of all Mummy's dresses it was one of my favourites and I loved to wear it. It made me feel so very sophisticated and elegant. I left them on her bed together with a matching bra and pants set in wicked scarlet, light tan, 15 denier tights and black patent leather stilettos. "You get dressed while I'll go and get ready." I said. I went into Mummy's room and quickly stripped off my blouse, slacks and camisole. I swapped my bra and inserted my breast forms. I changed my soiled panties and tucked away my unruly member as best I could. I now wore the same underwear as I'd selected for Aunt Alice and the identical dress and shoes were waiting. I applied my make-up with great care, paying particular attention to my eyes. I used exactly the same shade of lipstick and nail polish as I'd applied to Aunt Alice. When my nails were dry I carefully rolled the tights up my legs then stepped into the dress, wriggled it up over my hips and faux bust, then with a certain amount of contortionism managed to pull up the zip. Finally I put the little jacket over my shoulders and pushed my feet into the shoes. I looked a million dollars! But something was missing. Then I saw what it was. I fixed a single strand of Mummy's pearls round my neck and a pair of clip-on pearl earrings. Now I was perfect. "Are you ready?" I asked as I entered Aunt Alice's room. She was just putting on her shoes. I looked at her then at my own reflected image and was amazed at the astonishing similarity. Except for her dark glasses we were practically identical. Her figure was slightly fuller that mine but I didn't think anyone would notice when we looked so alike. "Wow!" I said. "You look fantastic! You're a real knockout, I wish I looked as good as you." "Thank you" she said. "It's a long time since I have felt so feminine. What are you wearing?" "There is something missing though," I said, ignoring her question. I took an identical single strand of pearls and fastened it around her neck, and clipped on her earrings. The white stones contrasted beautifully with the black of her dress and jacket. "One final touch" I said. I spritzed Channel No5 behind her ears, on to her wrists and into her cleavage, and then did the same to myself. We were ready to hit the town. This was it then, I thought to myself, I would either pass casual inspection and be accepted for what I appeared to be, or I'd be the subject of derision and scorn. There was even the possibility of arrest and all the shame attached. My excited anticipation was tempered with trepidation and nervousness. Chapter Six The taxi pulled up at the front steps of the 'Posh Nosh Restaurant', a discreet eatery with a reputation for excellent food. A uniformed doorman hurried forward to open the car door. I paid the driver and took Aunt Alice's elbow and guided her up the few steps and inside. The Maitre D. greeted us profusely and had no trouble finding us a table. The head waiter fussed over us as we settled ourselves. I studied the menu while we waited to be served gins and tonic. I ordered pate de foie gras to start, followed by a lightly poached Dover sole for both of us. We accompanied the meal with a bottle of South African Chardonnay and finished off with coffee. The meal was excellent. I relaxed totally as we ate and I chatted to Aunt Alice describing the other diners and the admiring looks she was getting. I didn't mention that I was also the focus of many lustful gazes. I loved all the attention we received, far more than I ever got as a man. "Do you fancy going on to a night club? Or perhaps you'd prefer something quieter?" I asked as I signed the credit card bill. I was enjoying myself so much I certainly didn't want to go home. "I love to go to a night club. Do you know of somewhere?" "I know just the place," I said, "Let's go." The taxi dropped us on the street outside a non-descript three-storey building. I paid and led her down an adjoining alley. The door to the club was about half way down. Music seeped out as a burly bouncer opened the door to admit us. We were ushered into the gloom and found a table in the corner near the low stage. As my eyes accustomed to the dim light I scanned the other customers. Adrian had talked about this place a lot. It was a club for transvestites and crossdressers named 'Deceptions'. I had visited it a couple of times previously dressed in male clothes but I hadn't stayed long. I'd somehow felt uncomfortable and out of place; but this time dolled up en-femme I was completely at ease. The clientele fascinated me. Some were obviously drag queens but for others it was extremely difficult to tell their true gender. So far as I could tell the patrons were mostly men passing as women, but there were also quite a number of women dressed as men. I'd been dying to visit here 'properly' dressed, so when Aunt Alice had agreed to an evening out it had been the perfect opportunity. We were early, so the place was still relatively quiet; it didn't really get going till the early hours. A woman dressed in a royal blue satin mini dress, fishnet stockings, towering heels and a spotless tiny white apron approached our table and said, "Hello, I haven't seen you two in here before. My name's Pattie, I'm the owner, and your very welcome to 'Deceptions'." "Thank you. This is our first time," I said. "This is Alice and my name is Ashley." I saw aunt Alice's head turn toward me when I introduced myself. "Pleased to meet you both, and I hope you enjoy yourselves. What can I get you to drink?" I ordered brandies and soda for us both. A few minutes later she was back with the drinks. As she poured the soda water onto the ice she said, "I must say you make a stunning pair. It's not often we see such beautiful identical twins. Give me a wave if you want anything else." "Identical twins? What's she talking about?" Alice asked. "She must think we look alike." "How can we, I'm a woman and you're a? Wait a minute. Now it's starting to make sense. I've suspected for sometime that you've been wearing women's clothes, I've heard the rustling of skirts and the sound of nylons rubbing together, and you've been wearing high heels. Now you've started calling yourself Ashley." I found myself holding my breath as she put together the clues she'd been gathering. I was not at all sure how she was going to react. She might blow her top accusing me of being some kind of pervert. She could even throw me out of the house. (Although I didn't think that was likely, as she needed me as a helper and guide). Alternatively she might just accept the fact; after all I was not the first boy who loved to cross-dress. She thought it over for several minutes, then I detected a smile form at the corner of her lips, it slowly spread across her face till she beamed at me. I released my breath sighing with relief. It looked like it was going to be all right. "Well you are a crafty one," she said. "How long has this been going on?" "Since Mummy died," I confessed. "It started when I began wearing her nighties to bed, I found it helped me to sleep at night, and it progressed from there. First her under things, then her dresses and skirts, then shoes and make-up till I was spending all day dressed. I only wore my boy clothes when I came to see you in hospital, and even then I'd wear her panties." "Why do you do it?" "Oh, because I love it," I replied. "It's not that I want to become a physical woman, you know, change sex or anything, I'm happy as a man, but I just love everything feminine, especially the clothes. I love the touch of soft fabrics, the silks, the satins and the lace. I adore feeling a skirt swirling about my stocking clad legs. I love the way my legs feel when wearing high heels, and of nylons caressing my smooth skin. I love wearing my hair in soft feminine styles and being properly made up. But most all I love just living as a woman. I do so want to live normally like you: to come and go as I please without the fear of detection; to be able to spend hours in shops trying on various things and just casually shopping for lingerie or shoes and have no one think it odd." "I see. Have you worn any of my things?" "No, I swear I haven't touched anything of yours." I paused, and then said, "Why should I, Mummy had exactly the same stuff as you have." "I wish I could see you. I find it fascinating that you want to dress as a woman and to act and live as one. And if I'm honest, I think it's quite exciting. How often do you go out dressed up?" "Believe it or not, this is my first time out in public fully cross dressed. I've wanted to for a long time but didn't have the courage or the opportunity until today. When I saw that Adrian had done my hair the same as yours I realized I could easily pass as a woman and thought, why not." Chapter Seven It was after midnight when we left the club. We were somewhat tiddly by this time having consumed several more brandies and were in high spirits. I put on some music when we arrived back home and asked if Aunt Alice would like a nightcap. "No thank you," she said, "but I would like to dance. Would little Miss Ashley like to dance with her Aunty Alice?" she giggled. "I'd be delighted," I said, starting to giggle as well. She took me in her arms and we began swaying to the music. My arms slipped about her waist and I laid my head on her shoulder. I had removed my bolero jacket and her face rested on the bare skin of my chest. I could feel her breasts pressing against mine. "Where did you get your tits from?" she mumbled into my shoulder. "They're not real are they?" "Unfortunately not. I bought them over the Internet. There are lots of sites for guys like me who want to appear feminine. Do you like them?" She surprised me by cupping her hand over my breast and gently squeezing it. "They feel very realistic, so soft and I can feel your nipple" As her hand continued caressing my boob her other hand slid down my back and groped my bum cheek. "Mmm." She sighed, "you feel just like a woman. So soft and curvy, it's been a long time since I've done this." I was a little shocked at this revelation, as I had never suspected that she had any lesbian tendencies. I said nothing; instead I lifted her chin with my fingers and gently brought my lips to hers. She responded immediately by pressing her lips roughly against mine. I felt her tongue dancing on my lips then push into my mouth. I opened my mouth slightly allowing her tongue to cross the threshold. She forced her tongue into my mouth, probing my teeth and the inside my lips. I reciprocated by pushing my tongue into her mouth. As soon as it entered she sucked it hard pulling it far into her mouth. We kissed passionately for several minutes as we continued swaying to the music. Her hands were wandering all over my back, bottom and hips. My hand found her breast and I at last felt the soft flesh, I'd desired for so long. I was sure she could feel my bone hard cock pressing against her lower abdomen. I thrust myself against her and almost came. She pushed back and I knew we were heading for hell. Even in my lust enflamed mind I was aware that if we didn't stop now we were about to commit the sin of incest. Ever since I'd been aware of the opposite sex, it was Aunt Alice that had been the subject of my fantasies. I had no interest in girls of my own age, with their puppy fat titties and skinny legs. I had always desired her; she was to me the epitome of womanhood. I knew of course that this yearning was forbidden but it was her vision that never-the-less, appeared for my nightly wanks. "Don't you think we should stop this?" I croaked. "Why should we?" She slurred. I realized she was drunk and it was the alcohol that was fuelling her lust. "Nothing wrong with a little snog is there? Besides, I really think you like it too, don't you, Ashley?" As she said this I felt the zip at the back of my dress being pulled down, then the garment was round my ankles. I nearly fell, stumbling as it entangled my feet. I managed to kick it aside and swayed against her again. Taking her lead I did the same, sliding the zip to the bottom of its track and dropping her dress to the floor. We continued smooching: two girls dancing together in their lingerie. All the time we were kissing passionately, our hands roaming over the others body. I had abandoned any hope of avoiding what we were inexorably heading for. There could only be one conclusion, and it happened in an instant. Aunt Alice slid her hand down the front of my panties and gripped my raging hard on. At the same time my hand found her dripping cunt, as my fingers plunged into the slimy depths she groaned in ecstasy. "Oh, yes, yes, Ashley, do it to me. I want it so much. It's been so long." My cock slid effortlessly into her as we swayed together. I gasped as I entered a woman's vagina for the first time. The inside of her cunt seemed on fire, I thought I had put my prick into a bowl of boiling oil. Despite my inexperience, instinct took over and I began to fuck her as we stood. With her arms holding tightly round my neck and her legs entwined about my waist I was supporting all her weight. I cupped her buttocks and rammed every last centimetre of my weapon into her. It didn't last long. After only a few thrusts I felt myself coming. I was unable to delay and fired several rounds of my sperm into her depths. The sensation of my first ejaculation with something other than my hand was overwhelming. My back arched rigidly, and my legs locked solid as though gripped by some sort of seizure. Then my legs buckled under me and I collapsed to the floor with her still clinging to me, still impaled on my shaft, which showed no sign of wilting, and still smothering my face with kisses. Slowly my senses returned and my breathing quietened. I lay on my back, with her weight squashing me into the carpet. The enormity of what we had just done hit me. We had committed a heinous crime in both the eyes of the law and of the church. We would be imprisoned and the key thrown away for sure. "Oh my God. What have we done?" I barely whispered. "It's called fucking." Aunt Alice giggled. "I know that. That's not what I mean. You are my aunty and this is incest. We could get locked up." "Only if anybody found out. Now don't worry about it and let's go to bed and do it some more." It seemed as though I had unleashed a demon. She was insatiable. I had opened a Pandora's box, and all her sexual cravings and desires had been released. She was like a monster in a feeding frenzy, with an unquenchable appetite. Her hunger grew with each occasion I entered her. As morning dawned I fell into a deep sleep and didn't wake till lunchtime. I became aware that I was hard again and that something nice was happening to my cock. Peering through bleary eyes I saw a blonde head centred in my crutch and bobbing up and down. It took a while for me to understand that she was giving me a blowjob. I ran my hands through her hair holding her head steady so that I could force my prick into her throat. She pulled away and said, "Good, you're awake at last. Give it to me again, lover; you are such a wonderful fucker. I simply can't get enough of you." She wriggled up my body and kissed me with renewed passion. I rolled over onto her and attempted to enter again. "No not in there," she giggled, "put it in here." She raised her legs onto my shoulders and presented her lovely bottom to me. Her abundant juices had run down the crack of her bum and her hole was well lubricated. It required some effort to force my cock into her anus. Once the head was passed her sphincter I slid in quite easily, and found her hot tunnel delightfully tight and thrilling. She shuddered with pleasure as I rove the last millimetre up her rectum. I began slowly to move in and out of her. My stamina was improving now that my balls had been emptied, I knew not how many times, since our first coupling. Aunt Alice was soon delirious with joy at being penetrated in her back passage. She was thrashing about under me so much that I was finding it difficult to stay buried inside her. I could clearly feel her anal muscles contracting on my cock, squeezing it in a powerful grip. As her frenzy heightened, her thrashing head dislodged her dark glasses. They flew off her nose and landed at the side of the bed. Aunt Alice was unaware of their absence and for the first time I could see her damaged and disfigured eyes. The scarring had healed pink and puffy across her lids and eyebrows. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, the pupils opaque discs. I stared in fascination at the mutilation as I pounded into her gripping sphincter. As my passion mounted towards my climax a corner of mind was aware that something was wrong. Some nagging detail that was not as it should be. Something I couldn't put my finger on like a word on the tip of my tongue, or a face glimpsed in a crowd that I couldn't put a name to. As I thundered toward my imminent explosion it hit me. In a flash of clarity the entire puzzle was revealed. The small mole, or beauty spot on the top of her cheek just below the eye, that had been hidden all this time behind her glasses, was on the wrong side. Aunt Alice was the left twin and the spot I was staring at was on the right. This could only mean one thing. As I fired my load of cum into the depths of her rectum, the ghastly truth crashed in on me. It was not aunt Alice that I'd been energetically and enthusiastically fucking for the last 12 hours, but my own mother! Part Two Chapter One The discovery that I had been fucking and buggering my mother was so shocking that I was unable to think properly. It was as bad as when I'd been told she had died in that awful car smash. Aunt Alice, or Mummy as I should now think of her, was unaware of anything untoward. After our final carnal act she had drifted into a contented sleep and I had retired to Mummy's room to try to think through the implications of my dreadful actions. Obviously there had been a terrible mix up immediately after her death. Because the car was registered in Mummy's name the police had assumed she had been the driver and hence the twin who had died. I had compounded the confusion by confirming the body was my mother at the formal identification. When I saw her lying in that cold mortuary I had broken down and not having the will or inclination to examine her closely I had agreed that it was indeed Mummy. From then on things had escalated, becoming inextricably involved. Because of her amnesia she had not known she was being mistaken for her sister. Her memory still hadn't fully recovered so she was happily assuming she was Alice and not Ashley. And I was her nephew and not her son. After much soul searching and agonising over the problem I decided that what was done was done, and there was no point worrying over it. I could talk to Mummy and try to explain the situation, or simply leave things as they were. After all, she had happily lived as Alice all this time so why confuse and upset her by overturning all that was familiar to her. On the other hand, if she were to suddenly regain her memory, how would I explain that everyone thought she was Alice, and was living in her sister's room? I really needed to talk to someone, but whom? I had no other family that I was aware of and no real friends other than Adrian, and I didn't think I could tell him I'd been committing incest with my mother thinking she was my aunt. But I needed someone to talk to. So in desperation I called him. "I'd love to," he said, when I invited him to supper. I also mentioned I had something I wanted to talk over. "I'll be there about 7.30. The doorbell rang a little after 7.30 and I went and opened it. Adrian stood on the threshold clutching a bunch of flowers. His mouth dropped open when he saw me. "Hi, you're looking real cute," he said. Only then did I remember how I was dressed. I had become so accustomed to wearing Mummy's clothes that I had forgotten Adrian had not seen me like this. I'd dressed casually in a camisole top, denim mini skirt and heeled sandals. I'd inserted my breast forms, as I did every morning, into a lacy bra that was partially visible at the front of my low cut camisole. I'd left my legs bare because it was warm enough in the house not to need stockings. I'd applied a light make-up; just some blusher and lipstick, and brushed my hair. My nails were still painted from the previous evening and I still wore my pearls and earrings. I blushed at his remark. "I'm sorry," I stammered, "I forgot I was dressed like this." "Don't apologize," he said, "you look very pretty. If I didn't know differently I'd think you were a very attractive girl." He proffered the bunch of flowers to me. "I brought these for your aunt but I think you should have them as you're the prettiest thing I've seen all day." I accepted them and said, "Thank you. Please come in." He followed me into the kitchen and I knew he was looking at my tush. I wiggled it deliberately (and I hoped) provocatively, then I bent from the waist instead of stooping to get a vase from a low cupboard. The mini skirt rode up my hips giving him a glimpse of my pink silk panties. I don't know what possessed me; I was intentionally teasing him with my brazen exhibition. I had to remind myself that I had asked him here for a serious discussion and not to try to seduce him. "Come in and say hello to Aunt Alice," I said. I took his hand and led him into the drawing room. "Adrian's here," I announced as we entered the room. "Why don't you get us all a drink, Andrew, I mean Ashley?" Alice said. "Sit down Adrian and tell me what you think of my adorable niece." As I left for the drinks I heard Adrian say, "I think she's beautiful, almost as beautiful as you are," "Oh you old flatterer." Alice was not averse to a little flirting either. She had never actually seen Adrian as I'd only introduced him to her since her blindness but she claimed she could get a pretty good idea of what people looked like from the sound of their voices. He sat on the sofa beside Alice and they chatted easily together. When Alice suggested I get something to drink it was the excuse I needed to make myself more comfortable. I scuttled out to the kitchen and immediately released my cock from its confinement and settled it into the front of my panties. It caused a very obvious bulge but I didn't care. Flaunting myself at Adrian was giving me a tremendous buzz. I didn't understand what was happening to me. I only knew one thing; I loved how he was making me feel. My cock was painfully hard trapped inside my panties and I longed to release it As I carried the drinks into the lounge, Adrian was standing to remove his leather bomber jacket. It was only then that I took in what he was wearing. Under his jerkin he wore a spotless white cotton singlet. It was so tight across his chest that his bulging pecs and nipples were plainly outlined as were his abs. His upper body was covered in a thick mat of black hair that looked like the pelt of a furry animal. His lower half was covered in an equally tight fitting sheath, that looked like ski pants that were three sizes too small. They were made from thin cotton and were tucked into a pair of hand-tooled leather cowboy boots. My eyes were immediately drawn to the prominent lump in the front of his pants that was obviously an erection. He made no attempt to hide it and on the contrary he rubbed it suggestively several times before he sat down again. I placed Alice's drink on a table beside her then stood at the end of the couch to hand Adrian his. As I leant slightly forward I felt Adrian's hand touch my buttock and gently squeeze it. I was shocked at first but then I began to enjoy the pleasurable sensation of having my bottom fondled. His hand then reached under my skirt and caressed my silk covered cheeks. I didn't move as his hands roamed over my bottom making me shudder with joy. My eyes were fixed on his crutch watching in fascination as his rigid cock twitched inside its tight confines, a wet spot appeared and gradually spread as his prick discharged pre-cum into his pants. Reluctantly, I dragged myself away from his wandering hands and sat opposite in a low armchair and sipped my drink. I noticed he was staring at my legs that I held primly together at my knees. When I'd sat down my mini skirt had been pushed up by my thighs and I made no attempt to pull it down. A sudden exciting thought entered my head. I watched his face as I slowly crossed my legs, a la Sharon Stone, and gave him a flash of my pink pantied crotch. His eyes opened wide when he saw up my skirt and could see my erect cock. I glanced down at his crotch and could clearly see his prick outlined in his thin trousers pulsing. Chapter Two I could feel my own cock leaking into my panties and was relieved when Alice suggested we eat. I had prepared a light supper of fresh baked bread, salad and cold meat. I opened a bottle of Chablis to wash it all down. After we'd eaten we retired to the lounge, which was lit by the flickering light of several scented candles. I brought in a pot of coffee and a bottle of brandy, poured and served it. I sat next to Adrian on the couch and we sipped our coffees. As we chatted his hand began stroking my leg from the knee up to the hem of my skirt. I glanced across at Alice who was sitting opposite us. I had the same eerie feeling that she was watching our every move from behind her dark glasses. Gradually Adrian's hand worked its way up under my skirt and onto my crotch. I gasped as his hand folded round my stiff length. "Are you alright dear?" Alice asked. "Yes, something went down the wrong way." I lied. I lay against the back of the couch, raised my hips and pulled my skirt up around my waist. Adrian immediately pushed the front of my panties down and released my throbbing penis. I looked at Alice or Mummy again as Adrian began to masturbate me. It was uncanny the way she stared at us as though she could see exactly what we were doing. Raising my hips again I pushed my panties down and removed them, then I lay back once more and spread my legs wide so that Adrian had unfettered access to my cock. "If you'll excuse me I think I shall go and change into something more comfortable and cooler," Alice announced, "it's awfully hot in here." As she left the room Adrian stood and with a single movement removed his ski pants. His huge erection swayed before him. I was surprised by the nonchalant way he exposed himself. "You want to dress like a girl, well, you can act like one." He said. "On your knees and suck this." He gripped his rod and waved it at me. Without a second's hesitation I did as he commanded. I admitted to myself that I loved the feeling of a hot cock in my mouth. Since the previous occasion I had dreamed of fellating him again and had longed to repeat it. I was so engrossed in blowing Adrian that I didn't see Alice return to her seat. I turned my head sideways to look at her as she brushed passed me. She had changed into an apricot silk ankle length negligee, tied loosely at the waist. I knew she was naked beneath it because as she lent forward it gaped open exposing her lovely breasts. Lately she had taken to wearing see-through nighties and negligees in the evenings, but this was the first time with someone else present. Perhaps she didn't realize just how revealing they were, or maybe she was deliberately teasing Adrian. I felt a pang of jealousy that another person was viewing what till now had been my exclusive privilege. I got a reminder to concentrate on what I was doing when Adrian roughly grabbed my head and thrust his prick into my throat. "That's a beautiful gown you're wearing, Alice." Adrian said. "Thank you, it makes me feel very sexy." "Would you mind standing up so that I can see it properly?" "Of course not." As she got to her feet the sash unravelled and the front of the gown opened like theatre curtains to reveal her naked body. She was unaware of her inadvertent exhibition and stood uncovered for our delectation. I wa