Finding My Voice - Chapter 4 - Duncan free porn video
FINDING MY VOICE
Chapter 4 - Duncan
My habit of socialising with Imogene and Paul on a fairly regular basis
continued much along the same lines for the next few months. I still
lacked the courage to go out dressed so we tended to entertain each other
at our respective houses. I found I enjoyed planning meal menus and
discovered a real passion for cooking. I won't say that I was in any way
competitive; let's just leave it with the comment that, for both
households, the meals became more and more elaborate as time went by!
Still it was all in good fun and we became very good friends.
I still formally booked the occasional makeover session with Illusions
when I needed help with some new aspect of my dressing, but, in the main,
by now I was sufficiently proficient not to need Imogene's help on any
regular basis.
One Friday evening I had just returned from work and was enjoying a glass
of wine whilst I considered whether it was worth dressing that evening, or
whether I would rather just slob about in track-suit bottoms and a tee-
shirt. I had just about settled on the tee-shirt option when the phone
rang. It was Imogene inviting me over for Sunday lunch. "I thought we
would have a bit of fun and go 'formal'," she announced with a giggle. "I
have just bought the most fabulous new dress and I am dying to wear it.
Why don't you come over about 11:30 for coffee and I can help you dress
your wig." This was very kind of her as one of the things I was still
having difficulty with was putting up my long haired wig into an elegant
formal style. I thanked her and told Imogene I would see her on Sunday
morning.
Well that changed my decision about not dressing that evening. If Imogene
had a new dress I would certainly need to look my best on Sunday. What, if
anything, did I have in my wardrobe that would be able to compete? I
hurriedly got into my female underwear and spent a very happy evening
trying on all my formal and evening dresses - (not that I had that many,
but by the time I had tried them all on with different combinations of
accessories, the evening just sped by.) In the end I concluded that I did
have one dress that would do. This was a fairly recent purchase which
Imogene hadn't seen me in yet. It was purple crepe, with a cross-over vee-
neck that showed a reasonable amount of cleavage without appearing cheap.
It had a knee-length, loosely-pleated straight shirt and looked fabulous
teamed with nude, glossy hose and a pair of shiny purple pumps.
It was my habit, when visiting Imogene and Paul, put on my female
underwear beneath my male outer garments, but to carry my dress, shoes,
wig and makeup in a bag to change into on my arrival. So, on Sunday
morning, I shaved extra closely; moisturised my skin with a lovely new
product I had recently discovered and put on my underwear. After months of
dressing and dieting, I had trimmed my waistline down quite a bit and no
longer needed to wear a corset unless my dress was particularly form-
fitting. My purple dress, fortunately, wasn't of this style, so I was able
to dispense with corset and control knickers and just wear a pretty,
matching pair of panties and suspender belt. I still needed a substantial
bra to keep my breast forms in place, but I had progressed from the long-
line, front-fastening garment I wore initially to prettier, back-fastening
ones. Fortunately I had one that closely matched my panties in colour, so
I slipped my arms through its straps and reached round to fasten the
clasps. (I still found the very feminine action of clipping one's bra on
an intensely thrilling experience that constantly reminded me of my new
status as a part-time woman.)
As Paul and Imogene inevitably served rather good wine at their lunch
parties, I decided to leave my car at home and caught the bus over to
their house. I had to remember to hold my bag on my lap so as to hide any
tell-tale sign of suspender clasps being visible through the material of
my trousers! All turned out well and I arrived at their house with my
secret intact. Imogene welcomed me in with a kiss. "I'm glad you are nice
and early," she greeted me. "We haven't had a good chat in ages and I'm
sure we have lots to catch up on. Paul was planning to dress today, but
has had to pop out for an emergency meeting with a client, so he will be
in man-mode I'm afraid. Still I guess we ladies will be grateful to have a
man around to fuss over us at lunch!" We both giggled and Imogene
continued, "I'll make us a cup of coffee and then we can go up to the
makeover room and I'll help you with your hair."
We carried our coffee upstairs and I quickly stripped off my boring male
outer drab and climbed into my beautiful purple dress. Imogene made all
the right "oohs and aahs" over it which gratified my vanity! She hadn't
put on her own dress yet and was clad in a fetching dressing gown over her
undies. By now I was accepted as "just another woman", and neither of us
was embarrassed to be seen clad only in our underwear.
As I was now fully dressed, I hastened to put on my jewellery, fastening
my necklace round my throat. It was one I had purchased especially to go
with this dress and I thought it particularly pretty. It comprised an
amethyst pendant hanging from a rope of crystals interspersed with small
amethyst beads. I had also found a pair of earrings that matched. These,
together with a slim, gold ladies watch on my left hand and gold bangle on
my other wrist, set my dress off a treat. Imogene was also very
complimentary about my shoes, so I sat down at the dressing table to put
on my makeup in a very contented frame of mind.
"I know it is lunch-time," said Imogene, "but I fancy a bit of 'glam', so
I am going for an evening-style makeup; I suggest you do the same." I was
happy to fall in with her wishes and started to sort out appropriately
dramatic shades of eye-shadow from my makeup bag. "Have you got any false
eyelashes with you?" Imogene enquired. "If not I can let you have a pair."
This lunch clearly was going to be a dressy occasion and I gratefully
accepted her offer. I still found the application of false eyelashes
difficult, so Imogene helped me glue them into place. They certainly had a
dramatic effect on my appearance.
Imogene busied herself getting her own accessories together whist I worked
on my makeup. When I had finished, Imogene gave me a critical "once-over"
and made a slight adjustment to my eyeliner, drawing it into a more
dramatic line. She also passed me a tube of lip-gloss. "A more 'kissable'
effect is called for I think," she mussed. I went along with her
suggestions, although I was somewhat amused; this all seemed a bit over
the top for a Sunday lunch.
Next Imogene turned her attention to my hair. Whilst I had been finishing
off my makeup, she had started to dress my wig on a wig-stand. She now
placed it on my head and I held it steady whilst she fastened it in place
with hairgrips. It was all very relaxing, sitting there observing
Imogene's actions in the mirror and trying to learn from what she was
doing. She was certainly a highly skilled makeup artist and hairdresser;
my hair was transformed as she piled, curled, and pinned tresses into
place.
"Oh by the way," Imogene suddenly said in an unnaturally casual manner, "I
forgot to tell you; we have another guest for lunch today." I started up
in surprise; I hadn't been dressed in the presence of strangers before and
wasn't at all comfortable at the prospect. Imogene knew immediately what I
was thinking and gently pushed me back into my chair. "I didn't tell you
before, because I knew this would be your reaction," she said calmly.
"However, it is about time you opened up your feminine side to a wider
circle of acquaintances. You are very convincing as a woman and have
nothing to fear about going public; if you won't go out to meet people, we
will have to bring them here to meet you!"
Whilst I knew that her assessment was broadly correct; emotionally I
wasn't sure I was ready for such a revelation and told her so in no
uncertain terms! Imogene remained calm. "Paul and I have discussed this,"
she continued. "We both feel that unless you are 'forced' into the open,
your dressing will go no further than it is at present and that you both
need and deserve better than that. I'm sorry if out plan has upset you but
I don't apologise; you will be fine and Duncan, our guest, is a lovely man
who is used to the company of transvestites and transsexuals. We first met
him when he came here for a makeover and liked him immediately. However,
Duncan came to the conclusion that dressing wasn't for him. He prefers the
company of the transgendered to dressing himself. I'm sure the two of you
are going to get on famously."
Well I guess when the inevitable is going to happen, there is not much one
can do but go with the flow, so I took several deep breathes to calm
myself down before replying to Imogene. "Well I think this is a pretty
sneaky trick, but I know you will have done it for the best reasons. We
are good friends and I know you are not trying to deliberately humiliate
me. I promise I will do my best to stay calm and be as feminine as
possible. You are just going to have to help me keep focused."
Imogene gave a squeal of delight and hugged me close - (taking care not to
smudge my makeup!) "Oh darling," she cried, "I know this is right for you
and I'm so pleased you are entering into this in the right spirit. I have
to confess I was a bit nervous as to how you would react. Now let's finish
titivating ourselves so as to be ready when the boys get here. Paul will
be back any minute and Duncan is due in half an hour!"
Imogene quickly finishing pinning the last strands of my hair in place and
gave me a generous squirt of her favourite perfume - ("drives Paul wild,
darling!") - before slipping out of her robe and into her own dress. The
new dress she had bought was truly gorgeous; a classic lbd, it was figure
hugging, with an overlay of lace on top of a satin under-dress. It had a
boat-shaped neckline that emphasised Imogene's elegant neck, and little
cap-sleeves from which her slender arms emerged entrancingly. She was
wearing sheer, black, seamed stockings and black, patent, 5-inch heeled
pumps. She too was wearing her hair up, with diamond drop earrings and a
fine gold chain necklace. "Aren't we a delectable pair?" she enquired with
a smile, looking at our reflections in the mirror. Well she certainly
looked good enough to eat and I was pleased that, standing beside her, I
gave no indication that underneath my feminine finery, I was actually a
functioning male!
Just then Paul called up the stairs that he was home and starting to
prepared drinks. "We will wait up here until Duncan has arrived and been
given a drink," Imogene whispered. "After all this effort we aren't going
to miss out on the chance to make a dramatic entrance, are we?!"
The door bell rang a few minutes later, announcing Duncan's arrival.
Shortly thereafter Paul called out, "Aren't you girls ready yet. Duncan is
here and your drinks are waiting for you."
"Off we go then," announced Imogene. "Best foot forward girlfriend and,
remember, enjoy yourself. You are a pretty woman; behave like one and
everything will go off swimmingly." She made sure that, as we walked
downstairs, I was in front and hence the first to enter the lounge.
Duncan Preston was standing in front of the fireplace talking to Paul with
a gin and tonic in his hand. He was a tall gentleman of about 50. His
brown hair was greying slightly at the temples and he looked very
distinguished in his elegant, navy-blue lounge suit. Paul also looked good
in a pale grey suit - (although I knew he would secretly have preferred to
be wearing a pretty dress like Imogene and me!)
He came over and kissed me on the cheek. "Hi Sonia," he greeted me, "you
are looking lovely today - but you always do! Let me introduce you to
Duncan Preston."
He turned, and Duncan offered out his hand for me to shake. I remembered
to let my hand to go limp and not return Duncan's handshake with a hearty
grasp. Duncan smiled at me. "Well Paul has been telling me what a
beautiful woman you are," he said, still holding onto my hand, "but his
description does not do you justice. I have met many cross-dressers in my
time, but never one as pretty and convincing as you!"
I was pleased that Duncan was openly acknowledging my true status and not
trying to pretend that I was a real woman - and I can't pretend that I
didn't feel flattered by his obvious admiration of my appearance. It
immediately made things easier between us and I started to relax a little.
Paul handed Imogene and I each a glass of chilled white wine. "So I don't
get offered a choice of drink," I mussed to myself, smiling inwardly,
"typical of the way men always assume they know what a woman wants!" As it
happens the wine was delicious and I sipped it with pleasure. We chatted
amicably together for a few minutes until Imogene announced that lunch was
ready and waiting for us in the dining room. Duncan escorted me into the
dining room and held my chair whilst I sat down. I had never had a man
"seat" me before and I have to say I quite enjoyed the courtesy. I smiled
a "thank you" to him as he sat himself beside me.
Lunch was great fun and went very smoothly. The food and wine were all
excellent and the conversation stimulating. Duncan went out of his way to
put me at my ease and I soon found myself enjoying his company. He seemed
to enjoy flirting and I have to confess that I found this flattering. As a
"man" I was quite nerdy and, as I think I have mentioned previously, as a
"boy" I never had much success with girls. Thus I wasn't used to having
another individual devote all their attention towards me. I found myself
confiding things to Duncan I would never have dreamed of talking about
previously. Hence he soon learned about my early wishes to please Mummy
and her lady friends by behaving in as feminine a manner as I, a young
boy, could. He told me about his interest in transgendered people. "For a
while I tried cross-dressing myself" he told me, "but, as you can see, I
don't really have the build for it and I soon realised I was better off
being the "man" when in company with transvestites and transsexuals."
Of course we didn't only talk about gender issues. The conversation over
lunch ranged widely and I was pleased to discover that Duncan shared my
enjoyment of theatre and music. "I am particularly keen on opera," Duncan
told me. I had to confess that this was an art form about which I did not
know much. "Opera tickets are so expensive," I complained "and pretty well
unaffordable on a librarian's salary!"
"Then you are in luck," responded Duncan. "It so happens that I have four
tickets for an opera relay at the cinema this evening. I had intended it
to be a surprise and my treat to Imogene and Paul for such a lovely lunch.
Now I can have the pleasure of introducing you to your first opera. It is
'Eugene Onegin' by Tchaikovsky and I promise you that you are really going
to enjoy it."
Now remember that, at this time, I had never ventured forth in public
dressed as a woman, so I protested that I couldn't possibly go the cinema
dressed as I was. The other three would not countenance my dropping out of
the party and Imogene reminded me, forcibly, that this whole party was
designed to drive me out of my comfort zone and embrace my femininity more
openly. In the end, of course, I had to give in and agree to join the
others for our trip to the opera.
When it came time to set off, Imogene took me upstairs to the makeover
room. She helped refresh my makeup and tidy my hair. "You are going to
need a coat and purse," she announced. "I can loan you things from the
Illusions wardrobe." She produced a pretty black, silk, A-line coat and
matching handbag. I put my wallet, phone etc inside and Imogene added my
lipstick, a powder compact, a lace handkerchief, and a packet of condoms
and a tampon! "A girl always needs to think ahead and be prepared," she
laughed. I blushed with embarrassment.
Duncan's car was a period Jaguar of which he was clearly very proud. He
opened the doors and ushered Imogene and I into the back seats - the
"boys" sat up front! He drove us to the local Arts cinema and we were soon
shown to our seats in a crowded auditorium. Fortunately no-one gave me a
second glace and I breathed a sigh of relief as I sank into my seat.
Imogene and I were seated between Duncan and Paul and I had Duncan on my
right hand side. He leaned over and quickly outlined the plot of the opera
before the performance started. As the lights went down and the music
started, I surrendered to its voluptuous charms and allowed myself to be
swept away into a world of glamour, love and heartbreak. Tears were soon
beading my eyes and Duncan reached over, took my hand and gave it a gentle
squeeze. He continued to hold it until the lights went up for the
interval. I didn't object!
I really enjoyed the opera performance and was eager to ask Duncan more
about it once the relay came to an end. I therefore acquiesced to his
suggestion that we go to the bar for a final drink almost without
thinking. Being seated in a brightly lit bar was a whole different
experience to being in a darkened auditorium, and I was a little nervous
when I noticed a few people looking in our direction. "Don't be scared,"
Imogene whispered. "They haven't read you; it is simply typical male
behaviour of eying up all attractive women that they see. You are an
'attractive woman' and had better start getting accustomed to admiring
glances. You can also expect the odd glare from their female partners!"
We settled down with our drinks and my nervousness soon disappeared as I
eagerly questioned Duncan about the performance of Eugene Onegin and opera
in general. He was clearly delighted by my reaction to his treat and
started to share with me something of his love for the art form. Paul and
Imogene had also enjoyed themselves and joined in our conversation. All in
all we were an animated party and I was a bit disappointed when the barman
announced that they were closing.
Duncan held my arm as we walked back to the car. I was grateful of his
support as I was finding it harder walking in heels on uneven pavements
than on carpets indoors. This time Duncan seated me beside him in the
front of the car, whilst Paul and Imogene sat in the back. We continued
chatting all the way back to Paul and Imogene's house. "It is too late for
you to get a bus home," said Imogene, "why don't you leave your things
here and pick them up another day. I am sure Duncan would be happy to run
you home." Duncan immediately confirmed that he would be delighted to give
me a lift home; so I agreed.
We dropped Paul and Imogene off outside their house and, as she kissed me
goodnight, Imogene whispered in my ear, "Well I'm glad you have so
obviously enjoyed your first outing en-femme; give me a ring in the
morning and we will have a long girly chat about it." I promised that I
would and, waving goodbye, Duncan and I drove off.
It wasn't that far to my house and Duncan's Jaguar made the journey in
next to no time. I was quite sad as we drew up outside. I really had
enjoyed the evening; not least my conversations with Duncan. He switched
off the engine and we sat silently for a few seconds. "Well thank you
Duncan," I said eventually. "I have really enjoyed this evening and
meeting you. Thanks to you I now have the incentive to start exploring the
world of opera."
"I'd be happy to help you with that," Duncan immediately replied, "I too
have enjoyed our time together and would love to see you again."
I went silent. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea," I finally
replied. "I do like you, but, as you know, I am not a real woman. You
treat me as one - and I have loved being pampered - but I am confused. I
have never 'dated' with a man before and don't know how I feel about
that."
"I do understand," said Duncan, "and I don't intend to pressure you in any
way. If you would be happier meeting up in male mode as a 'couple of
mates' going for a drink in the pub, that would be fine with me."
He was being very kind and I told him so. "Let me think about it," I said.
"Give me your phone number and I will ring you in a day or so once I have
thought things through. I promise I will ring; whatever my decision."
"Fair enough," replied Duncan, as he pulled a business card out of his
wallet and handed it to me.
I slipped the card into my handbag and turned to say goodnight. On an
impulse - where it came from I cannot fathom - I leaned over and kissed
Duncan on the cheek. "Thank you for a lovely evening," I gushed. "Whatever
happens in the future, tonight has been a wonderful experience." Without
speaking he took me by the shoulders and gently returned my kiss, but this
time on my lips. I found myself responding. It wasn't any "full-blown
snog", but it definitely was a proper kiss. I blushed and found I couldn't
look him in the eye as we broke apart and I fumbled for the door handle.
"Goodnight," I said once again when safely out of the car. "I'll ring you
very soon." Duncan gave me a warm smile as he watched me walk to my front
door and go in before driving off. He is a real gentleman.
Once indoors I took off my coat and kicked my shoes into the corner.
(After several hours my feet were starting to hurt. It wasn't all
sweetness and light being a woman!) I made myself a cup of tea and curled
up on the sofa. (I was amused to observe how naturally I curled my legs
under me in a very feminine fashion!) How did I feel about Duncan? Tonight
had been a real rollercoaster and my mind was in a whirl. Oh well, only
one thing for it; go to bed and sleep on it. Things are generally clearer
in the morning.
Stevie
- 26.05.2022
- 14
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