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Single Mother by circe ([email protected]) "So, be honest." Zoe and Emma lay on the queen-sized bed, giggling and wiggling their toes. The little girl was already in her pajamas and was lying on her front, holding her head up in her hands as she watched her mother. Their housemate, Zoe, lay next to her, copying her girlish pose and reaching out to tickle the young girl every so often. Mandy stood in front of them in her underwear, holding two dresses in her hands - one was red, strapless with a square neckline, the other black, sleeveless with a plunging neckline. Both were short - finishing above the knee. Mandy held one, and then the other against her as she turned this way and that, and twirled to see for herself in the mirror. "Well?" Mandy asked. "Red," "Black," the two girls said simultaneously, before erupting in laughter. "You are no help," Mandy said, mock-seriously, turning back to compare the two in her mirrored wardrobes. "Has he seen you in either before?" Zoe asked. "This one," Mandy held the red dress up. "I picked Emma and Jack up from the nursery Christmas party in it." "Six months ago." "Yes," Mandy agreed. "He'll remember won't he?" She went to put the dress down. "Can you remember what he was wearing six months ago?" Zoe asked. "A red suit with white trim and a fake beard," Mandy replied, her eyes twinkling. "Wear the red one then - he'll think it's Christmas," Zoe said. The girls giggled. "What do you think darling, do you like the red one?" Mandy held the dress against her, smoothing the front of it over her tummy. The little girl made a great show of looking her mother up and down, wiggling her eyebrows in appreciation. Eventually she broke into a smile. "Yes, it's pretty," Emma said. "What shoes go with it?" Zoe tickled her. * * * * * It was Friday afternoon, and the office was deserted. The large clock above the reception desk swung towards 4pm, and Carole, the bored receptionist, sneakily read a magazine below the partition. The lawyers and assistants had long gone, out for an after-work drink, or to enjoy the long weekend. At her desk outside Mrs. Parkinson's office, Mandy touch-typed with perfect posture, large headphones cushioning her ears. Her left foot effortlessly worked the pedal under her desk as she transcribed the notes of another house visit. She glanced up, aware that Dan, one of the I.T. guys, had spoken to her on his way past heading home. She smiled and said "bye", noticing that he too had taken advantage of the casual day by wearing jeans and a band t-shirt. Mandy had not, and had come into work in a smart charcoal skirt suit with a pearl blouse and tan pantyhose. She never really knew what to do with casual days. She rewound the audiotape and played back the last sentence, her elegant fingers flying over the keyboard as she transcribed the words of her boss, and former care-worker, Mrs. Parkinson. After almost two years part time, Mandy's touch-typing was the best in the office; even with the inch long nails she treasured so much. The visit had sounded quite upsetting, and it sounded like the child in question, a little boy, would have to be taken into care. Dorothy, her boss, had sounded quite upset on the tape. Mandy became aware of a presence by her desk, and released her foot, stopping the audio. She looked up and removed her headphones, to see a young and very pretty girl with bright pink hair, standing by her desk. "Can I help?" "Hi," the girl replied, smiling nervously. "I hope so." She slung a large carpet bag off her narrow shoulder and onto Mandy's desk and began to fish inside. "I got this letter." She pulled out a crumpled note, still in its envelope. "And I tried calling and talking but I couldn't get through and I just want to talk to someone about it." Mandy realized the girl was trembling. "Come with me," Mandy said gently, standing up and leading the girl into her boss's empty office. "Have a seat," she gestured to the large sofa taking up one wall as she walked over to the water cooler and poured the girl a cup of water. She handed the cup over and sat down on the sofa next to the girl. "Have a drink and I'll see what I can do." The girl smiled and took a sip of water, clutching the crumpled envelope as she did. She wore a tight black top, blue denim shorts, thick black pantyhose and Converse trainers. Her face was narrow and elfin, with large eyes and a small mouth and chin and her whole body was small and slender, save for a slightly rounded belly and enormous breasts, which threatened to burst out of her top. Mandy decided she was about seventeen, and had not long had her baby. "Thanks," she said after a moment. "Are you in charge?" she asked, taking in Mandy's suit and the office for the first time. "Oh, no, sorry," Mandy replied sympathetically. "I'm just a secretary. But I know I can help. Can I see the letter?" The girl handed it over, and Mandy unfolded it and read it quickly. She recognized it as one she had typed a week ago. The girl's name was Alison, and her midwife had reported that her baby, a little girl called Molly, was underweight. The midwife had also noted that Alison wasn't in contact with the baby's father, or her own parents who had kicked her out when they had discovered she was pregnant. The letter was advising that there would be a visit with the midwife and a care worker this Tuesday to assess the situation. "Alison?" The girl nodded. "I'm Amanda, it's nice to meet you. Everything's going to be all right, I promise. There's nothing to worry about. Where's your little girl now?" "She's at home, with my neighbor." "Okay," Mandy smiled," and is she nice, your neighbor?" "She's great. She's got two grandkids." "How old is she?" "She's eighty I think. She's really lovely." "Alison, I'll talk to my boss on Monday. Please don't worry." "Thank you," the girl began, before bursting into floods of tears. Mandy instinctively put her arm around her, and within seconds was cuddling the sobbing girl to her bosom. "Hey," Mandy said, awkwardly patting her on the back. "Shh. It's all right." "I don't know what I'm doing," the girl sobbed. "She cries all the time and I can't sleep. I'm so sore and so tired. I don't want to lose her." "It's hard, being a new mommy. I'm sure you're doing great. I found it hard." Mandy stroked Alison's pink tresses as she talked. "I'm sure your little girl is beautiful." "She is," the girl replied, her voice muffled by Mandy's blouse. "I love her so much. But the letter..." "I promise I'll do everything to help. I'm sure once she puts on some weight she'll be fine." Mandy reached behind her for the large box of tissues she knew were there. "Here, fix your face honey." "Thanks," the girl had stopped crying and took the tissue, dabbing her eyes and smudging her eyeliner. She looked down at Mandy's blouse and blanched. "Oh I'm so sorry." Mandy glanced down, to see her blouse was wet, and decorated with two black smears on her left breast. She smiled. "That's all right, please don't worry. I promise I'll help. Cross my heart." "Thank you," the girl said again. "You're so nice." "It's my pleasure." Amanda beamed as she walked over to her boss's desk and began writing on a post it note. "Here, this is my mobile. If you need to talk you can call me any time." "Thank you," Alison said again, standing and stuffing the balled up tissue into a pocket on her shorts. "I'm sorry for losing it there, it's just..." "Honey, being a single mom is hard. I know, trust me." "Thank you." The girl smiled weakly and left the office, looking no less upset and no happier. Mandy looked at her as she went, concern on her perfectly made-up face. Behind that face, Andy watched Alison Steadman - the most beautiful girl in school - walk away, her perfect ass wiggling in those sexy cut offs. He had worked so hard to stay in character, and it had paid off - she had his number. Okay, she thought he was a thirty-six year old single mom, but so did Andy, most of the time. His tight clothes, heeled shoes and perfume quickly snapped him back into Mandy and she glanced down again at her blouse, the wetness of the tears making the silk almost transparent. She sighed and looked up at the clock. It was time to go home. * * * * * "What happened?" Zoe asked, staring at her stained blouse, as Mandy and Emma arrived home. "Long story," Mandy replied, ignoring the stained blouse and helping Emma off with her coat. "You're home early." "Quiet afternoon, and my last appointment didn't show up for her wax," she added pointedly. "Oh God, I'm sorry!" Mandy bit her bottom lip. "I completely forgot." "Don't worry about it," Zoe smiled. "We can do it here along with your usual treatment." "Zoe makes you beautiful," Emma said, looking up at her mum. "Yes," Mandy replied, bending down to kiss her on the head but looking at her friend. "Yes she does. Dinner in half an hour, all right?" "Okay," the little girl grinned and ran upstairs to her room. "Seriously, what happened?" Zoe asked again. "Alison Steadman ruined a perfectly good blouse," Mandy replied, unfastening the buttons and untucking it from her skirt to show a white lacy full-cup bra. She took the blouse through to the kitchen, and held it up to the light. "Do you think it'll come out?" "It might, I've got some make-up remover. Nice bra," Zoe added. "Oh, do you want it back?" Mandy asked with a smirk. "No, no. I'll just borrow one of yours. We are the same size after all. Do you want me to do anything for dinner?" "No, I'll just get changed and do some pasta if that's all right with you?" "That'll be fab, gorgeous. And then you can tell me who Alison Steadman is." * * * * * The doorbell rang, sending a shockwave of excitement through the house. Emma immediately squealed and ran through from her room into her mother's, shouting: "He's here! He's here!" as she went. The little girl found Mandy sitting at her make-up table dressed, made-up, perfumed and accessorized. She gripped a small clutch purse tightly; her knuckles and slender fingers were drained of color. "I'll get it!" Zoe called from down the stairs. Mandy and Emma were quiet as they listened to the door opening, and the gentle faraway murmurs of the two voices. The mood in the house changed instantly, and Mandy took a deep breath, smiled at herself in the mirror, bent down to kiss her daughter, and stood, walking carefully on tall heels towards her date. "Amanda," John said warmly as she entered the living room. "You look amazing." She smiled and gingerly reached for his shoulder as he reached in to kiss her on the cheek. "So do you." He wore a dark suit with a pink shirt and tie. She took a deep breath, drinking in his aftershave. She had missed that smell. "And so do you Jack," she said, looking down to see her date's son, already at home sitting on the floor. "Hello Ms Scott," the little boy said, blushing. He looked behind Mandy to see Emma waiting by the doorway, waving. "Shall we?" John asked, gesturing to the door. "You kids be good," Mandy said to Emma and Jack with a wink. "I might say the same," Zoe added, with a raised eyebrow. * * * * * "Everyone loved Alison." Mandy lay on her bed, on a makeshift blanket of white cotton towels to protect her sheets. She wore just a long white t-shirt, which had ridden up onto her belly to show her pink panties. Her face was covered in a thick green facemask and her hair swept back by a simple hair band. "Seriously, everyone. She was pretty, smart, and had time for everyone. She was sporty - she played hockey - and arty too. She was always hanging out in the music department. I think she played Cello. I can't remember." "Talented girl," Zoe gently spread the thick wax onto her calf as she talked. "Totally." Mandy agreed. "She had chestnut brown hair when I knew her. She was in the same year as Andy, although we only shared English and History I think. She used to wear school uniforms all the time too, even though some of the other girls wore jeans. White blouse, pleated black skirt and pantyhose every day pretty much. She was so beautiful. Ow!" "Sorry sweetie." Zoe ripped off another patch from Mandy's bare leg and dropped the muslin strip on the towel. "So, did you have a thing for her too?" "Oh gosh, no. I'm old enough to be her mother." "Turn over?" Zoe asked, satisfied with the work she'd done on the front of Mandy's legs. "Uh huh." The woman tugged down her t-shirt and wriggled over, careful to keep her head propped up so her facemask wouldn't touch the pillow. "What about Andy?" Zoe asked, gently rubbing the backs of Mandy's legs with lotion. "Did he have a crush on her?" "He thought she was beautiful, definitely. Pretty. Maybe envied her a little." Zoe smeared the hot wax on the backs of her friend's thigh with a wooden spatula. In a long list of things she had come to deal with, and even accept, Andy only talked about himself as Mandy in the present, and obviously had split himself into two people. The little boy she had once known had almost completely vanished, and these few hours on a Friday night - where his mask and breasts were removed and washed while his skin was moisturized and cleansed - were the only times he almost broke character. Even so, he still spoke in his mother's voice. It was almost as though he had vanished completely into her. "Why envied?" Zoe asked, pressing down another muslin strip onto a creamy thigh. She suspected she already knew the answer. "Because, she was so pretty and popular. And, she...Ow!" "Sorry!" "She got on great with her folks. They were always at school shows and parents nights together and stuff." "So what happened to her? How did she end up on her own, crying in your office with pink hair?" "I honestly don't know. I hadn't seen her since school." Zoe thought about asking about that time. She knew that despite appearances, this thirty something woman was a teenage boy, even though the seams in that mask were getting harder to find. She worried about the boy inside the woman. She had worried he had sacrificed his life for his sister, but Emma was at school now. No, he had sacrificed his life to become the mother he never had, for himself as much as Emma. She also worried what would happen if his mother ever came back. "Have you heard from John?" she asked, changing the subject. After the Sunday lunch a month ago, they had talked several times on the phone, often late into the night. Zoe knew they both wanted to go on a date. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, when she thought about it, but Mandy was so real to her now, she found herself thinking about it less and less. "Not since Wednesday. He's away on business" Mandy still didn't know what she thought about John. She enjoyed being with him, and enjoyed how he made her feel - he complimented her, and made her feel desired. He was her first kiss, and that had been new and exciting. She thought about that a lot. That, and what she had done afterwards. She had wanted to please him, she had decided. And then there was his touch afterwards. He had touched between her legs - caressed her. He must have felt... She didn't know for sure, and he had said nothing since. It was driving her to distraction. "There you are honey," Zoe slapped her friend playfully on the bottom. "Silky smooth and sexy." "Thank you sweetheart." Mandy pushed herself up onto all fours and slid off the bed. Her legs felt wonderfully smooth, but sticky from the lotion. She decided to go for a shower, and carefully pulled the t-shirt over her head and unashamedly stepped out of her panties. Zoe looked at the naked body of her friend. He was unmistakably male, with narrow hips, a flat chest - spotty from the breast prosthesis - and, well, the matter of his small penis. Even so, the way he moved, stood and the aura he projected was so feminine, it almost made you doubt your eyes. She packed up her things as her friend took her shower, washing off the lotion and facemask. Soon, Zoe would re-attach the mask and breasts, and Mandy would be back, whole. The boy emerged from the bathroom, hair wrapped in a large white towel and face glowing from the treatment. Even without the mask and makeup, he looked like a girl - his eyebrows were neat and plucked, his lips plump from collagen. His chin was hairless - the result of a few IPL sessions at Zoe's salon. As a result, the mask was never irritated with hair, and he never shaved. After everything else, Zoe had had no energy to object. Mandy's phone vibrated on the bedside table, rasping rudely against the wood. Andy leant over to pick it up and frowned. "John?" Zoe asked. "No. Don't know the number." Mandy's voice emanated from her son's face. "Hello?" Zoe looked at the naked boy standing there with the mobile held to his ear?oblivious to the strangeness of the situation. "No, of course," he said in his mother's voice. "I'll be right over. It's no trouble." A few moments later, he hung up, still clutching the phone in his slender feminine hands. "That was Alison," he said in his own voice, for the first time in ages. "She didn't know who else to call. I need to get dressed." * * * * * "Do you remember when we first met?" The restaurant was full, with a background hum of chatter, the clinking of glasses and the scraping of cutlery. It was dark, with large candles on each table providing intimate yellow pools of light. It was mostly filled with couples, dressed in their finest, and leaning towards each other as they ate, drank, laughed and flirted. John had sat next to Mandy, rather than across from her. As the waiter removed their plates, the sommelier topped up their wine glasses, and John slid his hand under the table and onto Mandy's nylon-clad thigh. She gave an involuntary shiver. "I do actually," she said, taking a sip of wine. "Do you?" "It was the first day of after school club," he said carefully. "You introduced yourself as Emma's Mommy to me, which I thought was either cute or weird." Mandy laughed. "That's not the first time," she said, with a smirk. She had sat in the waiting room for 40 minutes, but she had been 30 minutes early. Every so often she would look up from the magazine she was pretending to read and smile at the receptionist. This was how grown ups acted in waiting rooms, she had thought. They read boring old magazines and panicked. The phone on the receptionist's desk rang. She picked it up, looked at Mandy and said, "Miss Scott? Mrs. Parkinson will see you now." Mandy stood up, smoothing the front of her grey ankle skirt over her thick black stockings. She walked towards the open door, her black knee- length boots clicking on the stone floor as she walked. She hoped she looked like a confident woman. She felt like a frightened little boy. "Hello!" Dorothy Parkinson met Mandy on the other side of the door and held out her hand. Surprised, Mandy shook it and then laughed nervously. "You look lovely, as always. Come with me." The woman began moving down the hall, with Mandy following behind. "I just wanted to be the one who met you - a friendly face." She smiled as they reached the elevator. "You won't be there?" "Sorry dear, no. But I've put in a very good word for you. Told them all about you, how you're turning your life around." The elevator arrived with a ping, and the doors slid open revealing the empty carriage. The two women stepped in and waited as the lift ascended. "How are the kids?" "Emma's wonderful. She asked when the lovely lady was coming back actually." "And Andrew?" "Oh, he's a typical teenager, you know. Going through lots of changes." "I wouldn't be that age again for anything." Dorothy grinned. "No," Mandy agreed. "No, me either." "And the rose bushes?" "They're doing really well." Mandy said with a smile, as she glanced in the mirrored doors of the elevator, and quickly scanned her face - the pencil thin eyebrows, heavy brown eyeshadow, black mascara with fake lashes, cute button nose, high cheekbones dusted with blusher and full pouting lips, slick with red lipstick and lip gloss. She brushed a strand of her platinum blonde hair behind her ear. Her grey suit was smart, tailored and very form-fitting on her artificial curves. A one- button jacket clung to her narrow waist, the cream blouse underneath buttoned up to her throat, swelling slightly over her small perky breasts. The long skirt was tight around her ample bottom, but flared out down her thighs to end at her calves. Her boots started a few inches above, and the black leather shone in the fluorescent light, curving into a one-inch heel and pointed toe. The doors opened, and in front of her, two tall men were laughing and talking. One of the men, the younger of the two, turned and stared at Mandy before nodding his head and stepping aside to let the ladies past. It took all of Mandy's resolve to not jump to the conclusion that this man had read her, had seen through her disguise. "Excuse me," he said, his eyes quickly darting down her body. "Thank you," she said, relieved. "Who were they?" she asked her friend as they walked towards her interview. "Lawyers," Dorothy replied. "They all look the same. Not one of ours I don't think. John something. He was talking to Mr. Cavindish, who is one of our senior legal advisers. He's quite grabby at the Christmas party," she added quietly. * * * * * It was almost midnight by the time Mandy had found Alison's apartment - following the tearful directions given over the phone, and enough time to fix her face. She was out of breath as she walked along the open walkway, having climbed six flights of stairs due to the out-of-order elevator. The night air was warm on her bare legs as she walked, but she still hugged herself close. This wasn't a good area at all. How had Alison ended up here, she wondered. She found the number and rang the doorbell. "Thank you so much for coming!" Alison answered the door in what Mandy guessed were her pajamas - a white vest top and capri pants. She looked exhausted. "Honestly it's no problem." Mandy gave the young girl a hug on her doorstep and walked in, the sound of screams and tears filling her ears. There were toys and baby clothes everywhere, as well as changing mats, diapers, and various bottles of lotions and creams. The room was chaos - so much so Mandy had to clear a space to set down her handbag. "She won't stop crying. She won't stop," Alison had said on the phone. "I don't know what to do, and you said I could phone. I'm so sorry." Little Molly lay in the middle of the chaos, on her back on the floor. Much to Mandy's surprise, her clothes were clean and her nappy had obviously been recently changed. A bottle of milk sat next to her. Instinctively, Mandy bent down and picked up the screaming child, supporting her head with one hand, and her back against her arm. "Hello Molly," Mandy said, her eyes sparkling. "Hello. You're a beautiful little girl." She was little - tiny even. "What weight was she?" Mandy asked Alison, who hadn't moved from the door. "Sorry?" "When she was born, what weight was she?" "Oh, four pounds something," she replied. She didn't look much over that now, and felt as light as a feather. No wonder the midwife had been worried. She guessed Molly was two or three weeks old. "Does she drink her milk?" Mandy asked, rocking the little baby in her arms. "A little. She just takes a little and stops. She doesn't sleep, she just cries." Alison was on the verge of tears. "Oh, you don't cry do you?" Alison asked the little bundle. She realized that it had calmed down quite a lot since she had picked her up. Molly was still sobbing, but not as much. What she was doing now was opening and closing her tiny lips and staring intently at Mandy's large breasts. "Good luck," she whispered to the baby. "Honey," she asked out loud, "are you breastfeeding?" Alison shook her head. "No, my friend Lizzie said it would make you sore and made your boobs saggy." "Have you tried it?" Mandy asked. "No, I didn't want to. Do you think I should? Will it shut her up?" "Well, she's staring at my boobs like I'm a cow, so you never know." Mandy giggled. "Okay." The petite girl moved over to the couch and pulled off her vest top, causing her large breasts to bounce inside the confines of the too- small bra she wore underneith. Mandy watched transfixed as Alison reached behind her and unclipped the bra, the cups springing away from her full, round breasts. Her nipples were fat and long, and Mandy found her lips had parted slightly. "Wow," Mandy said, before she could stop herself. She coughed, and looked down at the little baby. "Now," she corrected herself, "it's dinner time for you, you lucky girl." Mandy handed the small bundle to her mother and crouched down in front of her, her eyes level with Alison's full breasts. The baby needed no help however, and soon had her mouth full of flesh. Alison shuddered, and gasped, and then slowly relaxed, looking down at her baby for the first time with love, and not fear. She grinned at Mandy. "This feels totally weird," she said. "Does it hurt?" Mandy asked, stroking the suckling baby's head. "It did at first but not now. It just feels weird. Good weird." She smiled. "Stay there," Mandy commanded, standing up and looking around the small apartment. "Can I get you anything? Water, tea?" "Tea would be lovely," the topless young woman replied, her gaze focused on her baby. The kitchen area was a mess. Unwashed dishes piled in the sink and the open bin gave off a very unpleasant aroma. After opening and closing a few greasy cupboard doors, Mandy found the teabags and milk and set the kettle on to boil. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom, hon?" Mandy asked while she waited for the kettle. "Go ahead, it's that door there," Alison pointed with her free hand. If the kitchen was a mess, the bathroom was a disaster. Bottles and cosmetics lay open, and long hairs were everywhere. The sink, which had been white at one point, was covered in dried toothpaste and grime. Mandy gently closed the door behind her and swiftly unzipped her knee- length denim skirt, letting it fall down her bare legs. She snaked a hand down into the tight confines of her nude girdle and adjusted herself, letting out a small boyish sigh of relief - her hard-on had caught her by surprise, and had been intensely uncomfortable. Mandy waited a few moments as her penis softened. She pulled up her skirt and easily zipped it up over her round padded bottom. She flushed the toilet and washed her hands, making sure not to touch the sink itself, and left the bathroom. "Is she still hard at it?" Mandy asked, handing Alison a cup of hot tea and sitting next to her, crossing her legs at the thigh. "She really is," the girl replied with a smile. "Should I swap?" "She'll let you know what she wants to do I think," Mandy replied, taking a small sip of tea and deliberately looking Alison in the eye. "I feel so stupid," Alison said. "You're here five minutes and she's calm and quiet." "Don't be silly. It's so hard being a new mom. I really struggled with my little girl." "How old is she?" "Emma. She's just turned six." "Did you breastfeed her?" "Yup," Mandy lied. "Just the first six months. When they've got teeth it's time to stop," she added, repeating something she had heard one of the girls in the office say. "She's slowing down," Alison said after a moment. Sure enough, the baby girl detached herself from her mother, her eyes closed. She was fast asleep. "Thank you again," Alison whispered. "As you can tell, I'm not doing too great." * * * * * "Dessert Madame?" The waiter handed Mandy her menu first. She really didn't want anything else. She felt full, and a little drunk - she was usually only allowed one glass of wine by Zoe. "I want to ask you something," John said, setting down his menu. "Ask away." "The other Sunday, in the bathroom," John began. Mandy felt her body tense. "It was wonderful," he added quickly, reading her nervousness. "I just wondered if..." He paused, looking into her eyes. "We got carried away maybe? In the heat of the moment? I was worried that... I was flirting with you a lot and maybe it was too fast. I felt really bad." "It was wonderful?" She asked quietly, tilting her head towards his. "It was," he replied, leaning in towards her ear. She felt his hand on her thigh. "I was just sorry I didn't get a chance to reciprocate." "I don't..." Mandy began, unsure what she was going to say. She had played this moment in her head a thousand times, but she still didn't know what to say. All she knew right now was that she felt totally desired. "I know," he whispered gently in her ear, his breath tickling her. "I know you're special." "I'm just a working mother," she began, turning her head towards his. "You are so much more," he said, closing his eyes and kissing her softly on her glossy lips. She melted, closing her eyes and leaning into the kiss, pushing her tongue inside his hot mouth. She felt his hand slide up the inside of her thigh under the ridden-up hem of her dress. Quickly, she moved her hand down into her lap to stop him. "Not here," she whispered, pulling away with a smile. "Do you want to continue this conversation somewhere more private?" he asked, taking a drink of wine. "Yes and no." "I don't want to hurt you. But," he took her hand from her lap and placed in on his own. She felt him hard under the fabric of his trousers. "You have this effect on me." She giggled. "Would you be upset if I told you I took the liberty of booking a hotel room here?" "No," she said quietly. * * * * * "Morning!" Alison rubbed her eyes as she emerged from her bedroom, wearing a pink fluffy bathrobe. "What time is it?" she asked, her eyes coming into focus, and looking around the small living room-kitchen for the first time. It was spotless, with everything tidied away, cleaned (scrubbed, in some cases) and sparkling. Molly lay on her back in the middle of the room, on her playmat, gurgling happily. "Did you sleep all right?" Mandy asked, snapping off a rubber glove. "We didn't want to wake you." "Yeah, like a light," the surprised girl answered. "What time is it?" "It's about ten. Do you want some breakfast? There's not much in the fridge but I can make you an omelet or some French toast?" "Hang on, wait, wait, time out. What happened here? Why are you... What have you... Did you stay here?" "I hope you don't mind. You crashed last night and, well, I thought you could do with the sleep. Molly and I had some cuddles and some formula." "Mind? I don't mind. I'm amazed. Why would you do this? You don't even know me." "Honestly," Mandy smiled. "You remind me of myself when I had my baby. I'm sorry, I'm probably coming off as totally crazy." "No no," Alison frowned. "Well, a little. But any crazy that cleans my flat and gets me seven hours sleep is really fucking welcome. Sorry," she added. "You look amazing for having been up all night." "We've had naps, I promise you," Mandy replied, looking at Molly. "I think I should go though, I think I've crossed a line here." "No! Stay! It's fine. You haven't stolen her, so that's pretty much all I'm worried about. I'm going to wash my face and get dressed and if you wanted to stay that would be fine." Alison turned in the direction of her bathroom and opened the door. "Jesus Christ, you cleaned in here too?" "How about breakfast?" Mandy asked innocently. * * * * * Champagne was waiting for them in the hotel room - the bottle chilling in an ice bucket by the super king sized bed. Mandy walked over to the bed with an exaggerated wiggle - brought on by a mixture of the heels and the wine. At the foot of the bed, on top of the duvet, there was a large white box with bright red ribbon. A single red rose lay on top. "For me?" she asked. "For you." John closed the door behind them and unbuttoned his jacket. Mandy set aside the rose, and eagerly pulled apart the ribbon, took off the lid and unfolded the thin layer of tissue paper that greeted her. The garment inside was black satin, with thin straps. She bit her lip and lifted it up delicately by her fingertips. The slip was plain, simple and beautiful with a ruched v-neck. She held it up against herself - it was the same length as her dress. She looked down into the box, about to put it back when she saw something she had previously discarded as lining. She sighed, and picked up the white swimsuit carefully folded at the bottom of the box. "So," she asked, turning around and putting her hands on her hips. "Which one do you want me to wear first?" John was leaning against the wall of the room with a large smile. "I hope you like it." "It's beautiful thank you." She walked towards him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. That she was kissing a man, for the second time tonight, ran through her mind. A grown man who treated her like the woman she wanted to be, she reminded herself. She felt desired, and sexy. She felt completely aware of herself, her clothes and makeup, her mask and padding. She was aware too of his strong hands around her slender middle, the warmth of his body. She felt, like she had felt last time, the thrill and fear of discovery. "Would you like a drink?" John asked after they pulled apart. She nodded and they walked to the bed holding hands, squeezing their fingers together. He poured the champagne into two flutes, handing her one. "You look so beautiful; so feminine. You are the most amazing woman Amanda." "I owe it all to Zoe," she said, taking the glass and sitting her round bottom on the bed. "She's great." "She does your makeup?" he asked absently as he sat beside her, their thighs touching. "No!" She laughed, hitting him playfully on the arm. "Not any more, but she, you know, waxes and plucks and... This doesn't just happen," she added, slightly slurring her speech. "Well, to Zoe!" He toasted. They clinked their glasses together and drank. * * * * * "So, do you make a habit of this, rescuing single mothers?" "You're my second," Mandy replied honestly, cutting a small piece of omelet. "What happened to the first?" Alison asked, smiling. "You're looking at her." Alison laughed. "Seriously? You're like, Mom of the Year or something. You make my mom look like something from Desperate Housewives." "Believe it or not I was pretty wild when I was younger. Drink, drugs, a lot of bad stuff. Not that I'm saying you're like that," Mandy added hurriedly. "Just it was bad, and I couldn't cope. I haven't seen my parents for years - don't know if they're alive or dead. I only had my best friend, Zoe, and I didn't know how lucky I was." "Did she give you good advice?" "Hell no!" Mandy laughed. "Well, at least I didn't think so. It took a blow to the head to really wake me up. Metaphorically speaking, of course." "What happened?" Alison asked. "I killed her," Mandy replied, setting down her cutlery. "Overnight. I just decided to be a better mother, a better woman. I became someone else, and decided to try every day to be her. I've been doing it so long now I think I am her." Mandy smiled. "Wow, that's intense," Alison grinned. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm totally jealous of your hair!" "Hey, I can dye yours for you if you like," the teenager replied. There was a gurgle from the floor, followed by a small squeal. "What about you, what's your story?" Mandy asked, tilting her head to one side. "Oh, you know, the usual tale of sad teenage woe. I fell for a guy, got pregnant, hid it from my folks and then they kicked me out." Alison took a slurp of tea. "Wow, that's the shortest version of that story I've ever told." "I'll bet you were the most popular girl in school. I hope the boy knows how lucky he is." "Was - I don't want him in my life any more. He cheated, he..." she broke off. "He's still involved, I mean, he was at the birth. I just don't think I love him. I miss the sex though," she added with a mischievous look. "Oh God, I can't believe I said that to you, you're like a mom." "Hey, I've had sex," Mandy lied. "How do you think I got to be a mom?" "No, duh, but like, you're parent age." Alison took another mouthful. "You're pretty awesome though. I can't believe you actually, you just seem too good to be true. Good shit never happens to me." "That's not true," Mandy replied, glancing towards Molly, wriggling on the mat. "Yeah, oh yeah she's beautiful. It's just," Alison pushed her plate away from her. "I thought I wanted to give up my teenage years to be a mom. I really did. Now I'm not so sure." "You're still a teenager." "Oh sure, but with no friends, no school, no job, no sex. I might as well not be." Mandy was about to reply, but stopped herself. She knew she had nothing to say, no experience to give to this girl that wasn't exactly her own. She realized this was the longest conversation she had had with anyone except Zoe for months. "I want to be your friend," Mandy said finally. It was true. * * * * * Andy sat alone in his room, pretending to read. His mother was preparing to go out, he knew. Not because she had told him, she never told him. No, she was engaging in the usual house-wide chaos that she always did. She used every room, strutting between bathroom and her room in various states of undress. Her music was loud and blasted all through the house. His door burst open, and she strode in, turning on his bedroom light as she walked. She wore a white lacy dress with a plunging neckline and long tight sleeves. It fit her body tightly, her pink bra and matching thong visible through the semi-transparent outfit. It was especially tight around her tummy, which was beginning to grow. She was heavily made up, with hot pink lipstick, and bright red rouge. Her hair was loose and fine, falling easily around her face and over her shoulders. She crouched next to the bed, a gold necklace with a heart between her fingers. "Baby, could you help mommy?" Andy sighed and got up, taking the necklace and holding her hair as he fastened it around her slender neck. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with her Chanel perfume. The clasp was fiddly, but he'd done it many times, and fastened the necklace after a couple of tries. She stood, smoothing the front of her dress and tugging the hem down her thighs. She smiled at her son and kissed him lightly on the cheek, leaving a pink stain. "Don't wait up baby," she said in her rich breathy voice, turning towards his mirror and examining herself critically. She reached down the top of her dress into her bra cups, lifting her boobs and enhancing her cleavage. "Is mommy pretty?" she asked. "You're so pretty," her son replied, unable to take his eyes away. "Good boy," she said, leaving his room and leaving the light on. Moments later she had gone, leaving the house in disarray. Andy began his usual routine, turning off her stereo, and switching off the various lights his mother had left on around the house. He tidied up her clothes and makeup, folding or hanging the dresses and tops she had left strewn around her room. When the house was back to normal, he delicately opened her underwear drawer and removed a matching bra and panty set. He laid them carefully on the bed and removed his jeans, t-shirt and boxer shorts before sliding the panties up his legs and fastening the bra around his middle. He pulled four tissues from the box on her dresser and stuffed them into each cup, giving him a small bust. Make-up was next, and he carefully and deliberately applied foundation, powder, eye shadow, mascara and lipstick. The boy then opened her wardrobe and stood on his tiptoes, looking for the hatbox. It was where he'd left it, he was happy to see. He laid it on the bed and opened it, taking out the black wig inside. He easily tugged it into place on his small head, and used his mommy's paddle brush to restore the black bob to its artificial glory. "Is mommy pretty?" Andy said, his voice an unnatural falsetto. "Is mommy pretty?" he asked again, trying a different tone. He repeated the phrase over and over, trying to get the inflection right, as he took a sheer teddy from the wardrobe. He wriggled the slinky outfit down his narrow frame, enjoying the feel of the garment against his bare skin. "Baby, can you help mommy?" he asked, watching the young girl in the mirror reach into her bulging panties. He tucked his small hard cock between his legs and crossed them at the thigh. The phone rang. He froze, deciding whether to let it ring out, or to take a chance. "Hello," he answered, in his best Mandy voice. It wasn't perfect, he knew. "Mandy! You free at eleven?" The voice on the other end of the phone was Katie, a friend of his mothers. She was always dressed slutty, he remembered. "Sure," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging down the hem of the teddy. "Great, you're totally saving my ass. It's a new guy. Cash. Outcall. You got a pen honey?" Andy picked up the pen and pad that lay next to the phone. "Go ahead!" His voice was too high. Katie didn't seem to notice as she rattled off the address of a hotel in the middle of town. * * * * * Mandy stood naked in the hotel bathroom, her red dress, black bra, girdle and hold up stockings in a heap on the floor. Daintily she stepped into the satin slip and drew it up her boyish figure, enjoying the feel of the fabric against her gooseflesh. She slipped the impossibly thin straps up her slender arms, and drew the garment up over her large bust - despite the ruching, it was tight across her boobs. She checked herself in the mirror, lamenting the lack of womanly hips and bottom, and decided she looked pretty. "Amanda, are you all right?" John asked from inside the room. She reached into her bag and removed her perfume, dabbing a little on her neck, wrists and between her round breasts. She thought for a moment, and then hiked up her slip to dab a small amount just above her cock. She let the garment fall back, almost hiding her masculinity. Oh God, she thought. Oh God this is a huge mistake. She reached down to pick up a pair of black lacy thong panties and quickly pulled them up her legs, tucking herself in. Somehow, she felt less exposed. "I'm wonderful," she said to herself, giving her face a final check in the mirror before opening the door and padding into the room. "Wow," John said, his eyes obviously looking her up and down. "You look amazing." He was sat where she'd left him, perched on the end of the bed with a glass of champagne - fully dressed. "Do you like what you see?" Mandy asked, giving him a twirl. "Very much," he said, grinning. "And I've not really been able to think of anything else." She walked over to him, swaying hips she didn't have, and bent down from her narrow waist until her face was level with his. His eyes flickered between hers and her no-doubt impressive cleavage. Gently, she pouted her glossy lips and moved towards her man, closing her eyes as they kissed. She felt his large hand stroking her leg as their lips parted. "Me either," she whispered, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his top shirt. "Sit on my lap," John said. "Okay," Mandy giggled, planting her bottom on his lap and squirming slightly as she felt him hard under her. She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and felt him hold her around her middle. "How's that?" "Just like old times," he replied, grinning a predatory smile. The mood in the room had changed suddenly. "Sorry?" Mandy asked. "You wont remember, but Amanda and I used to meet in this hotel room all the time. She'd start with a lap dance, or a massage, or sometimes just a blowjob. She was gifted. I think I prefer her with larger tits though," he added, leering at her ample cleavage. Mandy tried to free herself, to push away, but it was no use. John held onto her firmer. "Which does rather beg the question, who the fuck are you?" John asked. "Let me go," Mandy replied with more authority than she felt. "Please." "I will," John smiled, reaching in for a kiss that Mandy wrestled to avoid. "I just want you to consider a proposition." "Please let me go." "You are a beautiful woman," John said, appraising her face with great interest. "Zoe is obviously very talented, but you... You sell it, this fifties housewife parody of a woman, you make it work. So, I want you to try your talents elsewhere, that's all." John lifted her up and stood, throwing her back onto the bed, her slip falling up above her panties. He pulled off his tie in one motion and stood over her prone figure. "Wait there," he said, crouching down to reach under the bed. Mandy needed no further opportunity, and rolled off the bed before making to run for the door. "Really, you'll go outside dressed like that?" he asked, calmly removing another white box from under the bed. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise, but I will expose you. Not that you need much more exposing right now." Mandy stopped at the door. She tugged the slip down over her boyish hips and turned around, standing awkwardly - all pretense of femininity forgotten in fear and resignation. "I just want you to take this," he said, opening the box on the bed and taking a step back. Mandy cautiously walked towards the open box, and peered inside. It was full of photos: Photos of Suzy. The top-most photo showed her wearing a black satin slip, identical to the one Mandy wore now. She reached in, and rummaged - in amongst the photos were videotapes. Home movies, she presumed. "Here's my proposition. Your secret will stay safe with me, if you apply yourself to being as good a Suzy as you are an Amanda. I want my wife and my whore," he added shrugging. "You've got a month. Learn her voice, copy her face and figure. If it's flawless, I won't tell anyone," he added, his eyes darting down to her crotch. Mandy continued to stare at the photos in disbelief. She realized she was crying. * * * * * "What about this one?" Alison held up a pretty blue and white floral top with thin straps and white lace around the bust. "That's beautiful, are you sure?" Mandy looked past the girl into her drawers, and could see several plain tops that would do just as well. It was obvious she was trying to impress her. "Totally, it will suit you too, goes with that skirt. And, you'll bring it back," she added with a smirk. Mandy took it gladly and felt the thin cotton with her fingers. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of Alison's room. She set the top down on Alison's bed and made a decision - she began unbuttoning her stained blouse in front of the girl. "Thank you," Mandy began as she slipped out of the simple white blouse, showing her white patterned push-up bra. "Silly to wear white with a baby around really." "It's pretty," Alison said. "Wow, you said you breastfed?" she added. "Okay, if I end up with boobs like that I'll be pretty happy." Mandy turned around and picked up the top, gathering it in her hands and slipping it over her head, and tugging it down over her front. It fit perfectly, flattering her narrow waist and flared hips. "This is beautiful," Mandy said. "I promise I'll give it back." Her new friend smiled and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing her tight and pressing their bodies together. "Thank you," Alison whispered, giving Mandy a kiss on her cheek. Inside, Andy wanted to kiss her on her lips and grab her ass through her jeans. He wanted to suckle on those amazing breasts and kiss the inside of her thigh. He wanted to feel her lips on his swelling cock. He wanted her, and would do anything for her. "My pleasure," Mandy replied, giving Alison a squeeze and a kiss on her cheek. "Give me a call whenever you want to talk, all right? And please, don't worry about Monday. Promise?" "I promise." Mandy gathered up her things, and made to leave the small flat. "I have to ask you, have we met before?" Alison asked, as Mandy slung her bag over her shoulder. "You seem really familiar to me. It's been driving me mad." "I don't think so," Mandy replied, suddenly very conscious of her disguise. "No, I can't think. I just feel like I've known you for ages," Alison smiled, opening her front door. "Take care," Mandy said hurriedly as she left. "Good bye Molly, be good for mommy."