Jennifer s Journey Becoming the Perfect Housewife Part 4
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Jennifer's Journey -- Becoming The Perfect Housewife, Part 16 free porn video
Jennifer's Journey - Becoming the Perfect Housewife, Part 16
I took full advantage of Sarah's absence for the rest of the weekend,
using my time alone to think about my decision to make my life as
Jennifer more permanent and more complete. The more I thought about it,
the more certain I was that this was the right thing to do. I was tiring
of the fantasy of being Jenny - and excited about the idea of letting
Jenny become a real person.
Sarah returned on Sunday evening. She said her trip to New York had been
fantastic. I wasn't particularly interested in hearing any more about
it, so I retired to my bedroom early. Without actually saying the words,
I made it perfectly clear that I expected Sarah to continue to sleep in
the guest room.
There was one reason that I was glad Sarah and Dr. Roberts were back from
New York. There was a phone call I needed to make first thing Monday
morning.
Calling Dr. Roberts
I know this will sound terribly strange, but on Monday morning I phoned
Dr. Roberts. When I called his office, the phone was answered not by
his usual gruff receptionist and assistant, but by a much younger and
nicer voice. She said her name was Tiffany and that she had been working
with Dr. Roberts since the old receptionist retired a couple of months
ago. I told Tiffany that I needed to speak with Dr. Roberts.
I expected to be told that the Doctor would call me back later between
patients, but within a few moments Dr. Roberts was on the phone. He
sounded guarded, wary, not knowing why I was calling. After all, when
your girlfriend's husband is calling, you can generally expect trouble.
But I wasn't looking for trouble; I was looking for help.
I reminded Dr. Roberts that several months ago he had said that he knew
of doctors - the best anywhere - to whom he could refer me to figure out
what next steps I might take in developing Jennifer, physically at least.
Dr. Roberts was clearly uncomfortable. "Listen Jennifer," he began, "I
know you must hate me for my...relationship with Sarah. And because of
that whole situation, it would be morally and ethically impossible for me
to treat you. Furthermore..."
I interrupted him. "Doctor, please spare me the speech. You said that
you could help me by referring me to specialists you know. I think you
owe me that much. I'll sign whatever waivers you need me to."
"Okay, okay," Dr. Roberts relented. "Can you come over to my office
tomorrow morning, first thing. Say 8:30?"
I hadn't been prepared for this. "Well, I guess I could. Yes, of
course."
Over the phone I heard Dr. Roberts call out, "Hey, Tiff. I'm starting
early tomorrow with an urgent 8:30 appointment. And cancel all my
appointments tomorrow until 10:00."
In the background I could hear "Tiff's" voice reply, "Okay, Jake, but
your schedule is already really tight, especially since you went to that
medical conference over the weekend."
Medical conference? I knew exactly where Dr. Roberts was all weekend
and, unless she was referring to Dr. Roberts examining my wife's naked
body in bed, it was no medical conference. Dr. Roberts appears to have
fed "Tiff" a lie about his weekend activities. Hmmmm.
Back to me he said, "Look, Jennifer, I'm really sorry about everything.
I promise I'll do my best for you." He sounded sincere.
He asked me a few more questions, like the name of my therapist. I
thanked him and before hanging up said, "Oh and Doctor, this is between
you and me. You are not to discuss this with Sarah. We both know that
there are rules about this."
The Doctor's Office
I certainly didn't tell Sarah where I was going as I got ready for my
appointment with Dr. Roberts early the next morning. I felt rather
nervous - maybe even a bit sick to my stomach - as I picked out my
outfit. I had briefly considered looking for some boy clothes to wear,
but realized that was just stupid. The whole point of seeing Dr. Roberts
was to cement my life as Jennifer. And besides, my old clothes wouldn't
fit me now anyway since I had lost so much weight -- and I'd look pretty
funny dressed as a boy with my lovely mane of soft red hair. So I worked
my way through my closet struggling to find the right outfit. After all,
there are no books written to tell you what kind of dress you wear when
going to see your wife's boyfriend! In the end I selected a simple black
and white floral print dress. The dress was rather fitted up top, with a
full, floating mid-calf length skirt. The dress was sleeveless, so I
added a black linen jacket. And since the day was going to be warm, I
skipped the panty hose and slipped on a pair of low sandals, my painted
toenails plainly visible. I kept my jewelry and make-up simple. I
thought I looked fairly presentable. Conservative and appropriate for a
meeting with Dr. Roberts.
I got to the doctor's office about 8:15, 15 minutes early for my
appointment. I parked in the lot in back of the medical professions
building and walked through the still quiet halls of the building. I was
clearly Dr. Roberts' first patient of the day and the door to his office
suite was still locked when I got there. I was about to knock on the
office door when I heard some talking and giggling from inside. Curious,
I stood quietly for a moment trying to make out what I was hearing. I
could hear Dr. Roberts' voice and a second voice I recognized as
Tiffany's. Yes, definitely giggling, and then I high-pitched, "Stop
that!" followed by more laughter. Hmmmm.
Done eavesdropping, I rapped on the door and was greeted by Tiffany. She
was a knock-out. A beautiful blond girl with a great body, big blue eyes
and a stunning smile. She wore a tight, white nurse's outfit that was
both too short on bottom and revealed too much cleavage up top. I'm sure
she wasn't anymore than 25 years old. She ushered me inside, not to an
examining room, but to Dr. Roberts' office in the back. He stood up and
greeted me warmly when I entered and directed me to an armchair. As
Tiffany turned to leave his office, I distinctly noticed Dr. Roberts
stealing a quick glimpse of her shapely little ass as she left. Hmmmm.
Dr. Roberts began by explaining that he had made a number of calls on
Monday afternoon on my behalf. He had spoken with both my therapist and
the specialists he knew that could help me.
He asked me to describe what I thought I wanted to have done. I
explained that I wasn't planning on doing the whole SRS procedure - at
least not yet. I just wanted to get cosmetic procedures done to my face
and my body so that I could look more convincingly female and pass more
effectively. He said that that seemed like an appropriate path to take.
"Jennifer, I am recommending that you go see the doctors at a place
called Malibu Aesthetics Partners, in California obviously. They are the
best anywhere. Very exclusive. I can get you in there because the head
surgeon and chief partner of the group is an old medical school buddy of
mine. It's expensive, but I know that you can afford it and I don't
think you should be treated by anyone less. Their practice is divided
roughly three-fourths female clients - celebrities, models, very wealthy
women -- and one-quarter...situations...like you. I've spoken with your
therapist and with my friend at Malibu. No one sees any reason why you
can't be fast-tracked through a combination of plastic surgery and
hormone treatments to get exactly the outcome you are looking for."
Dr. Roberts continued, "And they will do it all for you. They assemble
the team, they arrange the details. You just need to show up and do what
they tell you. They make it very easy and very quick."
My heart started pounding hard.
"Does this sound like what you want to do?" he asked.
My mouth was dry. "Oh, yes," I managed to whisper. "This is exactly
what I want."
"Alright then. They can take you in six weeks, if you're willing to move
that fast," Dr. Roberts said. I responded that I was. Dr. Roberts
explained that I needed to see an endocrinologist ASAP to begin a hormone
regimen. Anticipating that I was going to want to proceed, he had made
an appointment with an endocrinologist two floors up in the same building
for later that morning.
"But first," Dr. Roberts said, "I need to give you a complete physical.
As the referring doctor, there is a lot of information that Malibu needs
me to provide. So let's take care of this right now. Okay?"
What?! A physical?! I wasn't expecting this! I thought I was just going
to have a conversation with Dr. Roberts - simply get a referral to a
plastic surgeon - not get examined by him.
But I had come this far. I swallowed hard. "Okay. I guess we should,"
I managed to say.
The doctor moved me to an examining room and asked me to remove my
jacket. I did so and felt terribly exposed. I climbed up onto the
examining table. First he took my blood pressure and then took a number
of blood samples from me. While he did these tests I felt so self-
conscious as he touched my skinny bare arms with his large manly hands.
With my jacket off, I became more aware of the bracelets around my
wrists, the rings on my fingers and the polish on my long nails. Now
uncovered, my fitted dress was now on full display, the darts of the
bodice perfectly tailored to encase my full (but still fake) bosom. I
avoided Dr. Roberts' eyes, but I could feel him stealing glances at my
bust as he worked.
He had me remove my sandals before he checked my height and weight. He
said that I was borderline underweight - which I suppose is a bad thing
but I was secretly thrilled to see that I had dropped a few more pounds
since the last time I weighed myself.
He asked me a series of questions as he recorded my answers on one of the
Malibu Aesthetics forms. Some of the questions were very personal and
very embarrassing - like how old I was when I started dressing like a
girl and did I feel sexually attracted to men. I did my best to answer
these questions completely and truthfully, which was especially difficult
since the man asking the questions was my wife's lover. But he was very
professional throughout - and I was now very focused on my objective. So
I forged onward.
He grabbed his stethoscope and said he needed to check my lungs (I
thought to myself, "you've been staring at my 'lungs' ever since I took
off my jacket," but I said nothing.)
"I need you to unzip your dress," he said. Oh, God, no.
I reached around behind me while the doctor looked on. I am ordinarily
good at this, but I guess I was nervous and couldn't quite get a grip on
the zipper.
"Let me help," he said, as he reached behind me and pulled down the
zipper.
"Thanks," I croaked.
As the top of my dress loosened, I crossed my arms in front of me to hold
the dress in place. "I'm going to need to move this a bit," he said as
he spread the opening in back apart. "Now breathe deeply," he
instructed. I did as he asked as he moved the cold metal of the
stethoscope around my back. I knew my bra straps were now on full
display as he listened. I squeezed my eyes shut hard at the thought of
this.
"Okay, and now the front," he said. Reluctantly, I lowered the front of
my dress, sliding my arms most of the way out of the dress. As the top
of my dress lay puddled in my lap, I now sat completely exposed from the
waist up. My pretty white lacy bra, completely covering my realistic
silicone breast forms, hung from my skinny shoulders. This bra, one of
my favorites, had a decorative little satin rosette detail with several
small pearls nestled in the cleavage. And now I was showing it to Dr.
Roberts. I sat there, half naked, on display, for what seemed like hours
as he continued to check my breathing. I caught a glimpse of myself in
the mirror on the wall. I looked so petite and delicate and vulnerable
as I sat there, Dr. Roberts towering over me as he performed his
examination. "You can zip back up," he finally said.
"Now if I could get you to stand here," he instructed. He held out a
hand which I instinctively accepted to help me down from the examining
table. I just need to examine your...pelvis."
Oh, dear God, say this isn't happening.
"If you could just hold up your skirt for a moment..." I did as he
asked, my pulse quickening. I thought I was going to die. "And would
you please pull down your panties a bit."
Actually it was a pair of panties over my gaffe. I took a deep breath
and yanked them down together while still managing to hold up my skirt.
How humiliating. I thought I was going to melt into the floor at that
moment. The doctor - my wife's lover - was now looking at my pathetic
"Little Princess", looking even smaller than it really was as a result of
the constant compression of the gaffe. But worse than that - far worse -
was that he was also looking at the results of a bikini waxing Debbie had
done last Thursday! There was no mistaking it. My pubic area was as
trimmed and groomed as only the vainest, most pampered woman might have.
I'm sure there were also traces of the perfumed powder I dust myself with
down there each morning.
But the doctor said nothing, but Lord only knows what he was thinking.
The exam concluded and he handed me a fat envelope of brochures and
paperwork that Malibu had delivered by FedEx overnight. I thanked him
for his trouble and he wished me luck. Tiffany chirped a cheerful "bye-
bye" as I headed out of Dr. Roberts' office and upstairs for my
appointment with the endocrinologist. That was uneventful and I walked
out with several hormone prescriptions that I had filled on my way back
home.
I was really going to do this.
Sharing the News with Mark
I had waited more than a week before telling Mark about the recent - and
monumental - developments in my life. In fact, strange as it may sound,
on the Friday after Sarah returned from her romantic long weekend in New
York, Sarah and I had our Friday morning massages together with Mark as
usual. I even held Sarah's hand and stroked her hair as Mark worked his
magic on her, bringing her to multiple orgasms. I thought about how
strange it was that I had never really been bothered by seeing Mark touch
my wife - or seeing how much she enjoyed it. I could even tolerate Sarah
going out on a few dates if that made her happy. But I now realized that
Sarah was no longer there for me. I was roiled with emotions as I
watched Sarah's taut, lean body writhe under Mark's touch. I felt sad
and lonely as Sarah's eyes locked onto mine. She was so very, very
beautiful and I had loved this elegant, exotic creature so deeply. I
would miss this woman - or at least the memories of the happier times we
had shared - terribly.
But I also had an exciting - if not terrifying - future ahead of me. I
was going to live my life as a woman, even if Sarah wasn't going to be
part of it anymore.
After Mark had finished with my massage, I asked him to wait for me
downstairs and to not follow me upstairs. He agreed. We took our
showers and I put on a pretty ivory dress with a delicate floral print.
I did my make-up and my hair as quickly as I could. I took one final
look in the bathroom mirror as I steeled myself for going downstairs and
explaining all of my news to Mark. The idea of telling him of my plans
to become Jennifer made me terribly nervous.
As I entered the kitchen where Mark was waiting, he let out a whistle and
said "Well, don't you look lovely." This brought a smile to my lips and
a flush to my cheeks. Mark certainly was a very sweet man. I wrapped my
arms around his strong neck and hugged him tightly for several minutes.
It felt extra wonderful today. "What did I do to deserve that?" he asked
when I finally released him.
"That was just for being here," I replied. I knew the minutes were
quickly passing before Mark would have to run to his next appointment, so
I busied myself getting his lunch together and prepared myself mentally
for telling Mark about my big decisions.
As I just about ready to bring the lunch plates over to the table, Mark
said, "I have something to tell you." Oh no, I thought. Why is it that
every time I want to make an announcement, the other person beats me to
it with an announcement of their own? Well, this was the new Jennifer
and she wasn't going to defer to other people all the time from now on.
"Well, I have something to tell you first, Mark," I said as I placed the
two plates on the table and sat down next to him. And so I proceeded to
tell him about Sarah and New York and the end of my marriage and, most
importantly, my decision to move much deeper into my life as Jennifer.
Mark pushed his plate away, not yet having a chance to eat a single bite,
and took both of my soft, little, manicured hands in his. "Oh,
Jennifer," he said, "I am so sorry. I know how very deeply you love
Sarah. I hear it in your voice when you talk about her. I see it in the
way you look at her. I know how devoted you are to her and I know this
must be hurting you terribly." Mark was able to see my pain and say the
words that no one else could. I burst into tears and Mark held me in his
big strong arms. I sobbed uncontrollably for several minutes before I
was able to settle down. "There, there," he whispered softly in my ears
as he stroked my back. It was remarkably comforting.
He didn't even ask me more about my decision to walk away from my male
existence, at least not at that moment. He only wanted to help me deal
with my emotions around Sarah. Mark was a good friend.
I encouraged Mark to eat his lunch while I could only pick at my food. I
expect my make-up was ruined from all my sobbing. I took a deep breath
and forced the next words from my lips, "So Mark, you said you also had
something important to tell me?" I braced myself for whatever Mark might
be needing to tell me.
He let out a little laugh and said, "Well, I did say I had something to
tell you, but I never said it was important. All I wanted to say was
that my first two appointments of the afternoon were cancelled. I'm free
until 4:00 today."
I let out a laugh, relieved that Mark wasn't delivering some unexpected
bad news.
"And so..." Mark said with an evil glint in his eye, "since you're
planning on being a girl, what do you say we go upstairs to your bedroom
and let me start treating you like a girl right away."
And with that, Mark literally picked me up in his big strong arms and
carried me all the way up the stairs. We were both laughing as he did
this, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck, head resting on his broad
shoulders. He gently placed me on my bed and drew the curtains shut.
The End of Part 16.
I hope you are enjoying the tale of Jennifer's Journey. Please leave
comments in the Review section. Readers' comments are very, very
important to me.
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