Jennifer s Journey Becoming the Perfect Housewife Part 4
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Jennifer's Journey -- Becoming The Perfect Housewife, Part 18 free porn video
Jennifer's Journey - Becoming the Perfect Housewife, Part 18
California Bound
On the day before I was to fly to California for the "procedure" at the
Malibu clinic, I called Sarah to fill her in on the major new
developments in my life. She had been staying at Dr. Roberts' home
since I had last seen her about two weeks ago. She was completely
surprised by my news - yet at the same time seemed distracted and not
terribly interested. She was fully disconnected from me and my life and
she was now fully immersed in the next chapter of her own life.
The arrangements were all set. Vicki agreed to water the plants in my
house while I was away. She also drove me to the airport. My anxiety
about my trip to California had been building day-by-day and Vicki had
been there throughout to give me some calming advice and comfort. She
even had to help me pack and get dressed for the trip as my nerves had
me nearly incapacitated on the morning I was to leave.
I had just assumed that I would travel in boy-mode, but Vicki encouraged
me to leave all my male things behind. She offered to pack up my few
remaining boy clothes up and give them to charity while I was away.
Besides, as she pointed out, since I had started the hormones just a few
short weeks, I was already looking more feminine, more convincing.
Vicki suggested that I wear a simple heather grey sweater twin set, a
pair of tailored black slacks and my black ballet flats. While I
dressed, Vicki helped to pack a small bag of essential toiletries, make-
up and clothing. The people at Malibu Aesthetic Partners had suggested
packing very light. As I finished brushing my hair and doing my make-
up, I realized how much the hormones were changing my appearance. I
smiled at how good my reflection looked in the mirror. I felt more
passable than ever and I was pretty confident that I would be able to
handle the flight as Jenny without too much trouble.
Vicki dropped me at the curb in front of the terminal and gave me a big
hug and kiss good-bye. With a big grin, she handed me a "bodice-ripper"
romance novel and a Vogue magazine to read on the plane. She wished me
luck and I was on my way. I was so lucky to have a friend like Vicki.
I checked in for my flight without a hitch, although I will admit to
getting some funny looks by the men at Security when they checked my
driver's license. But they didn't say a word -- I guess they've seen it
all before. The plane wasn't very crowded so I had a row of seats to
myself. The flight itself was uneventful. I read some of my magazine
and even dozed for a little while.
Arriving at LAX, I saw an attractive 40-ish year old woman holding a
sign saying, "MAP - Jennifer" as I exited the baggage claim area. She
introduced herself as Tina and gave me a big hug, welcoming me to Los
Angeles. She insisted on taking my small suitcase from me as we walked
to her car.
Tina explained, just as Dr. Roberts promised, that the people at Malibu
Aesthetic Partners would handle everything for me during my six week
stay in California. Tina would be my "case worker" - but she preferred
that her "girls" thought of her as their "sister." We chatted
pleasantly for the next hour as she drove, and as we did, I felt my
nervousness melting away. She was a very kind and charming woman.
Driving out of LA and north up the coast, we arrived at a very large,
very modern home on the hills overlooking the ocean. This would be my
home for the next six weeks. Wow! It was gorgeous. At any time, Tina
explained, there might be anywhere from two to five patients living in
the house, some might be girls like me, some might be girls, well, more
like Tina, if you know what I mean. I was shown to a lovely room with a
view of the ocean and given a tour of the home. There was a large
terrace that cantilevered out over the cliffs with a pool, chaises, a
fire pit and dramatic views. Sunsets, I was told, were not to be
missed. I was going to have no trouble staying here for as long as I
needed to.
But there was little time to relax. As soon as I had a chance to put my
things away and freshen up, Tina drove me down to the MAP offices.
There I was introduced to the two doctors that ran the practice. Dr.
Jaeger was a gentleman in his late 40s, with greying hair, looking like
he was sent from Central Casting to play the part of the experienced,
confidence-inspiring doctor in a soap opera. I figured out that Dr.
Jaeger was the med school buddy of Dr. Roberts who had used this
connection to me get in door at MAP. Dr. Penn, on the other hand was a
very young woman with short black hair, funky eye-glasses and multiple
piercings in her ears. You might have guessed she was an architect or a
designer if you didn't know she was a top plastic surgeon.
I spent the next few hours in consultation with the two doctors. Tina
stayed in the room and occasionally was sent to retrieve a file or to
take notes. The doctors reviewed my file with me in detail and seemed
satisfied that everything was in order. Then came the physical part of
the exam. For the next hour the doctors discussed my face as if I were
a lump of clay - and they talked about it as if I weren't even in the
room. They went over every inch, every detail. Occasionally Dr. Penn
would stop and take photos. The longer we were in the room together,
the more I realized that while Dr. Jaeger was permanently serious and
all-business, while Dr. Penn was a jokester, a real character.
The plans for my face debated and agreed, the team went on to my body.
For this, Tina was asked to leave the room. Dr. Penn had succeeded in
getting me to relax with her clowning, so I wasn't too nervous as I was
asked to remove my sweater and slacks. Again, the doctors examined me
and discussed options and ideas. Interestingly, I realized that Dr.
Penn seemed to take the lead in planning the surgery (perhaps the
architect/designer image was fitting after all). I had to remove my bra
and the doctors examined the small swellings that were developing where
my breasts would be. Dr. Penn had me slip various size breast forms
into my bra to get a sense as to the size that would work well. At one
point she had me slip on a bigger bra (36 D) to see how some even bigger
breasts might look. "Perfect!" she announced seeing how the new shape
looked.
"Good heavens, no!" I exclaimed. "These are much too big. I couldn't
be comfortable with these. These are...huge!"
"Oh hush now," she replied with a wicked grin. "That's what they all
say. Those aren't really so big. That's that look all the housewives
out here are going for. Don't worry your pretty little head over this.
I know what's going to be breast for you - I mean "best" for you." She
giggled at her own joke that she's probably made a thousand times
before.
After endless photos and measuring and discussion, the doctors seemed
satisfied and I was allowed to get dressed. They met privately for a
half hour or so and came back to meet with me.
"So, Jennifer," Dr. Penn started, "we've had a chance to work out a plan
for you that we think will work well. But before we go through all
that, why don't you tell us what you want to achieve from this
procedure."
"Well," I started hesitantly, "I guess I would just like to be able to
live my life more confidently and more comfortably full-time as a woman.
I mean, I think I'm starting to pass pretty well already - and the
hormones really seem to have helped - but I know if anyone is really
paying attention, they know I'm not a woman. So I guess that's what I'm
hoping to achieve."
"Oh, we know all that," Dr. Penn replied with a dismissive wave of her
hand. "What I'm asking is: What is your dream? What are your secret
hopes about what you might get from going through all this?"
My mouth went dry. What exactly was she asking me? I thought for a
moment and then said some words aloud that I hadn't even said to myself.
"I guess what I'm hoping for...I mean I guess my dream is...that I could
be beautiful. You know, like the photos of my sister that I sent you.
Yes. That's it. My secret hope is that you could make me beautiful
like my sister. Can you? Can you do that? Do you think you can make
me beautiful like my sister?"
After pausing a moment for dramatic effect, Dr. Penn replied with a
smile, "Honey, that's exactly what we are going to do. You are going to
leave here be-a-u-ti-ful! As for looking like your sister, when you get
home people will think you are your sister's younger, hotter, sexier kid
sister. Dr. J and I discussed it. You will be drop-dead, stop-traffic
gorgeous when you leave here. That's a guarantee. What do you think
about that?"
And that is when I fainted.
The New Me Emerges
I won't bore you will all the details of the next six weeks, but I
underwent four separate surgeries over the course of the first week and
several minor, "clean-up" procedures at the end of the fourth week. The
rest of the time was for recovery and getting used to the new me.
As for what I had done, let's just say they did it all. No sex change,
of course. I wasn't ready for that. But they did perform a great many
procedures to my face from my hairline on down. Brow, nose, jaw, lips -
even my ear lobes! And lots of work on my body. Yes, I got the very
large breast implants that Dr. Penn insisted on. Also lipo-suction
galore (everywhere - including my arms) and some small implants to make
my hips look fuller and rounder. I even had my teeth whitened near the
end of my stay.
Initially the swelling and discomfort were really overwhelming and it
took some time for the new me to finally emerge. But when it did, I was
so very, very happy. With each passing day, the swelling and bruising
diminished and my new face and body came into sharper focus. I knew
that Dr. Penn had been telling the truth - I was going to be returning
home as an absolute knock-out!
Over the course of the second half of my stay in LA, in addition to
having lots of time to read, relax and recover, Tina also took me
shopping and out to restaurants and museums to get me comfortable with
my new self in public. And the more the trauma of the surgery faded,
the more I realized that I was attracting attention when I went out -
the good kind. People - and by that I mean mostly men - would
practically break their necks to get a good look at me as I passed by.
As for the shopping, the first thing I needed was a new collection of
bras that were much, much bigger than the ones I already owned. And my
waist was now much skinnier so I was also going to need to replace my
pants and skirts. And besides, the new me could handle fashions that
were much more fun and sexy than the old me. I spent a small fortune on
new designer clothes and had a great time doing it. I even had to buy
two new suitcases to bring it all home in! Tina and I also spent a lot
of time at the make-up counters in several stores and I got some useful
tips on applying make-up to my lovely new face. Throughout, Tina was
delightful company and she made every aspect of these experiences fun
for me.
With all due respect to Debbie and the girls at the salon at home - all
of whom I love dearly - I had the most amazing salon experience of life
on Rodeo Drive. Tina took me to one of the most famous (and most
expensive) salons in town. The stylist there, who I've seen on TV a
bunch of times, ordered up a new shade for my hair - this time more
blonde than red - a shade of strawberry blonde. I guess I shouldn't
have been surprised by that, after all I was in LA - and blonde is the
way to go in LA. Anyway, I got the most amazing color, cut and style of
my life. My hair shone in the California sun and framed my new, softer,
prettier features just perfectly. It made me feel beautiful!
Maybe the most fun and exciting experience was sunbathing out on the
beautiful terrace. And the best part was doing it in my new bikinis! I
couldn't believe the feeling of my big round breasts only partially
hidden by my pretty bra tops. Tina had taken me to several shops and
suggested styles that were very sexy - but had bottoms that would cover-
up my gaffe, letting me look relatively...flat down there. Out on the
terrace, none of the other guests would care if my bikini bottoms showed
a little bulge that shouldn't be there, but I would. So just to be
extra sure, I would always wrap a little sarong around my hips whenever
anyone else was on the terrace with me. I enjoyed strutting around the
terrace in my high heeled sandals, skimpy bikini, jangling jewelry and
designer sunglasses. I delighted in the feeling of rubbing suntan oil
all over my sleek, lean body, especially on my long, silky legs, across
my flat tummy and, best of all, on my large and largely exposed breasts.
After a brief dip in the pool, I would lie on a chaise and bake in the
sun. Sometimes I would untie my bikini top as a lay on my tummy reading
my magazines.
On one day near the end of my stay in California, I was sunbathing alone
on the terrace in the strong midday sun. I had slathered suntan lotion
everywhere I could but I was afraid I might get a sun burn on my back.
Just as I was thinking about how I wished there was someone around to
help put sunscreen on my back, the pool boy, a Latino kid named Sergio,
who was maybe 20 years old, arrived to tidy up the pool area. I asked
him for help and he was more than happy to oblige. As he poured some
lotion onto his hands, I untied the back of my bikini top and lay down
on the chaise. And while it should only have taken less than a minute
apply some lotion to my back and shoulders, for the next ten minutes --
maybe more - Sergio treated me to the most sensuous back rub I can
imagine. I was in heaven, laying there in the hot sun, feeling the
cool, slick lotion and this young man's strong and rough hands on my
soft and exposed skin. He started innocently enough, gently smearing
the lotion on my back and shoulders. Then he proceeded to gently rub
and knead the lotion into my skin. Seeing no protest from me, he became
bolder and more...intimate. He climbed onto my chaise, straddling my
bottom, placing a knee on either side of me. His massage became more
intense and he leaned his upper body in very close to my back. He must
have wasted half a bottle of lotion on me as he continued to slide his
hands across my back, my shoulders. His hands drifted down to the
sides of my narrow waist and up across my ribs. I knew what was going
to happen next. His hands began to slide forward, his fingers caressing
the sides of my breasts. I gasped but didn't move to stop him. His
hands became bolder, inching their way towards my nipples. I
instinctively arched my back, lifting slightly from the chaise, to make
it easier for his hands to fully grasp my breasts. I looked down to my
chest, thrilled by the sight of this young man's big hands gripping onto
my even larger breasts. He continued to play with my breasts, squeezing
the soft and bouncy flesh and gently pinching and pulling at my nipples.
My back was now pressed up hard against his chest and I could feel his
now hard cock pressing against my bottom through his shorts. Without
thinking, I turned my head to look back at him and he seized that
opportunity to kiss me hard on the mouth. And when he did that I
shuddered with pleasures, feeling a jolt of electricity that seemed to
well up from the tips of my toes, to my highly stimulated breasts and to
my lips that were locked onto Sergio's mouth.
We heard some noises coming from the house. It sounded like someone
might be coming out to the pool. Sergio quickly climbed off the chaise.
As a way to show my appreciation for young Sergio's attention, I turned
over, my bikini top completely undone, giving Sergio a full view of my
naked breasts. He smiled from ear to ear. The noises were getting
louder and people were, in fact, coming on to the terrace so I quickly
did up my bikini top and made myself decent again.
I watched Sergio toil for the next hour cleaning the pool, and I could
tell he enjoyed having my eyes on him while he worked. As he gathered
his things to go, I pulled a $100 bill from my purse and handed it to
him. It seemed like the least I could do.
And so my six weeks passed rapidly and with great excitement. There was
a little farewell party for me at the cliff house before I left. I
thanked and hugged my doctors and Tina for what they had done for me:
giving me a fresh start and an entirely new and exciting chapter of my
life.
Returning Home
Tina drove me to the airport and helped me with my two large bags and
wished me well on my return home. She made me promise to call her as
soon as I got home. As for the outfit I wore for the flight home - well
let's just say I wasn't wearing a conservative twin-set and slacks. No,
for my flight home I wore an off-white silk tank top that, from the
right angle, provided an unobstructed view of my now more-than-ample
cleavage. From every angle, the straps of my new Victoria's Secret bra
were clearly outlined through the thin, clingy material of my silky top.
I wore a short, tight grey skirt with a gold chain belt. I skipped the
stockings and wore a pair of sexy stiletto sandals, my bright red toe
nails visible to all. I could feel the eyes of all the men on the
plane (and a lot of the women) on me as I found my seat in First Class.
The guy in the seat next to me couldn't seem to get enough of me, first
insisting on helping put my carry-on bags in the overhead compartment
and then chatting away almost the entire flight home. He was nice
enough, but not really my type.
Half way through the flight, the co-pilot came back and introduced
himself to the passengers in the First Class section. He was a
handsome, surprisingly young guy - friendly and cocky the way you'd
expect a pilot to be. He too seemed to want to give me some extra
attention, stopping to chat much more with me than he did with the other
passengers. I'm sure he enjoyed the view down my blouse from where he
was standing in the aisle next to my seat.
After retrieving my new suitcases from the luggage carousel, I started
to head for the terminal exit. I was planning to take a taxi home as
Vicki was traveling and not available to pick me up. As I waited in the
long taxi cab line, the handsome co-pilot from the flight walked out of
the terminal building and came up to me.
"Say," he said, "Looks like you need a ride home. Can I give you a
lift?"
"Oh, gee," I stammered, not really sure at all what to say. "That's OK,
I'll just take a cab. But thank you anyway."
"What cab?" he replied, looking down the road that ran in front of the
terminal building. "I see a really long line of people ahead of you and
no cabs. Come on. I've got a limo waiting right over here. And the
best part is, it's all paid for by the airline!" This guy was slick.
"Well, I suppose, if you're sure it's no bother. It does seem like
there are a lot of people waiting and not many cabs."
"Now you're talking," my co-pilot replied with a grin as he scooped up
my suitcases. We walked a short distance to where his car and driver
were waiting.
We climbed in and asked where I was going. I told the driver the
address. The co-pilot was staying at the Marriott in downtown, I was
going to take him far out of his way, but he said he didn't mind, so off
we went. We chit-chatted away in the in the backseat while the driver
drove. My co-pilot started getting a little flirty and a little bold.
He suggested that perhaps I could join him for a drink at his hotel, and
then drive me home. I declined his invitation but was enjoying his
attention. He was charming, in a fun and, dare I say it, roguish sort
of way. He had me giggling at the lines he was using on me. And he was
nothing if not persistent.
There was no way I was going back to his hotel with him. As it was, the
ride to my house was going to take about 40 minutes and it was already
late in the evening. But undeterred, my co-pilot kept on coming after
me. It wasn't long before he had managed to close the space between us
on the back seat and slide an arm around me. I surprised myself by how
much I was enjoying this. It was very easy to let myself go and be
swept away by this smooth talker's romantic attentions. It felt very
good, very natural.
He proceeded to nuzzle and kiss my neck which tickled and made me
giggle. His lips traveled up to gently kiss and blow in my ear. I
closed my eyes and simply melted. With one hand wrapped around my
shoulder, pressing me against him, his free hand started exploring my
body - first my tummy, then up my ribs, then to my breasts. I couldn't
resist, it felt so wonderful. I didn't protest when he worked his hand
under my skimpy top, squeezing and playing with my breasts through my
lacy Victoria Secret bra. He had me panting and moaning as he fondled
my big boobs. His lips found mine and I kissed him hungrily. His
tongue plunged deep into my mouth which I eagerly accepted. We were
putting on quite a show in the driver's rear view mirror.
While we kissed, his hand had found its way beneath my bra. When his
fingers found my nipples, a jolt of electricity shot through my body. I
yelped with pleasure it his touch.
As we continued to make-out, he took one of my hands and placed it over
his crotch. His cock was rock hard and straining at the material of his
dark blue uniform pants. Instinctively, I started to rub my hand across
his swollen dick. He started to moan softly as I did this and whispered
in my ear, "Take it out, please."
I unzipped his trousers and his big, rock hard cock sprung out. I
wrapped my dainty hand around his big tool and started gently playing
with it. "Please," he practically begged, "I want you right now." His
hand started drifting down towards my panties.
I had a pretty good idea of what he meant, but this was no time to give
my co-pilot the shock of his life. No, my panties were going to stay
on. I pushed his hand away and whispered back to him, "Be quick."
And with that I lowered my head to his lap and placed his big hard dick
in my mouth. I proceeded to let his cock slide across my full, crimson
lips, using my tongue to play with the head of his penis as it slid in
and out of my mouth. His eyes were now shut tight and he was panting
and moaning.
I sped up the rhythm, my head started bobbing up and down furiously, my
tongue swirling around his cock. I could feel his entire body start to
become rigid and his breathing even shallower. His hand started to push
down on my head as I knew he was about to cum.
At that moment, I pushed my head as far down into his lap as I possibly
could, taking his cock into my throat. When I did that, he exploded. I
could feel blast after blast of his hot sticky cum shooting down my
throat.
As his orgasm subsided, I eased off his cock, gently and thoroughly
cleaning it off with my tongue. I swallowed every last drop of his cum.
"Wow, that was amazing," he managed to say while still breathing hard
from his exertions. "You are amazing."
I zipped him back up just as the limo arrived at my house. He thanked
me profusely and we exchanged phone numbers. The driver was trying to
be discrete, but I could see he had a huge smile on his face. My co-
pilot helped me bring my bags to the front door and we kissed one last
time before he drove off in the limo.
As I fumbled with my keys and began to think about tonight's co-pilot
encounter and my brief experience with Sergio, the pool boy. Perhaps I
wasn't being too wise or careful about my new-found sexuality. After
all, that was two fairly anonymous sexual experiences in the span of 72
hours. But it felt so good to feel desirable and to experience the
incredibly erotic sensations of my new body. I would need to think
about developing some sense of self-control, I decided.
As I opened the front door of my house and prepared to enter, I realized
that Sarah's car was parked in the driveway. What the hell was Sarah's
car doing there?
End of Part 18
Please stayed tuned for future installments of Jennifer's Journey.
There are more adventures ahead. And please read the prior installments
if you haven't done so - the story is better from the beginning. And
PLEASE leave comments - your comments are very important to me!
Marisol
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