After The Wedding - Chapter 2 - I Think I Am In Lust! free porn video

AFTER THE WEDDING - CHAPTER 2 - I THINK I AM IN LUST The Sunday morning following our day at the clinic dawn bright and fair and Sandra suggested we go to church. I was a bit apprehensive; this would be my first public statement in the village that my cross-dressing wasn't just a "one-off" affair to please Rosemary and Sandra, but rather an indication of my true personality. Mary pooh-pooh'd my doubts, pointing out that I would have to come out in public sooner or later and that the church was as neutral a place as I could possibly find. "If they accept you there, I don't think you will encounter any prejudice elsewhere" she said. "Anyway nearly everyone around here had already seen you in your female wedding outfit, so it is unlike to come as any great shock for you to be seen wearing a dress again." Grudgingly I had to accept Mary's arguments and set about getting ready. I had only a few outfits from which to choose and settled on a black, white, and grey skirt printed with a chevron pattern; a white blouse and a black, tailored jacket. Mary suggested we wear hat and gloves and kindly loaned me things that complemented my outfit. Light tan tights, black heels, and one of Mary's patent leather clutch bags and I was ready. Mary dressed in a cream suit with red accessories and looked gorgeous. Church went surprisingly smoothly. I took the precaution of phoning the Vicar before the service to explain that I would be cross-dressed and was that OK with him? Although by no means a trendy clergyman, he knew better than to raise objections - equality legislation and all that! In the event he went out of his way to greet and talk to me after the service and I'm sure this helped calm concerns felt by other members of his congregation. I did receive the odd sideways glance, but most people took my changed appearance ion their stride and some even told me that they weren't surprised to see me back in skirts. "You looked so natural when you escorted that Sandra to the Registry Office, we were surprised when you went back to wearing trouser!" seemed to be the general opinion. Back home I changed into a more casual outfit of slacks and sweater and helped Mary prepare lunch. Mary insisted that it was smaller portions for me from now on; I had my figure to think about and would need to be careful about what I ate. We spent the afternoon lounging about reading the newspapers. Mary seemed totally unfazed by my new appearance, although I found myself doing a double take every time I walked past a mirror. After the excitement of the weekend we retired to bed early. Mary was clearly randy once again - (was the fact that I now looked like a woman, bringing out her latent lesbian tendencies?) - and I did my best to satisfy her orally, but, to be honest, for me it wasn't very satisfactory and I am sure my dissatisfaction communicated itself to Mary for she soon gave up her attempts at love making also. Monday was a working day for both Mary and I and I asked her advice about what she thought it most appropriate for me to wear. Fortunately I had not thrown out all the feminine clothes we had purchased for me when I was practising dressing as a woman in preparation for Sandra and Rosemary's partnership ceremony. Although many of the outer garments had had to be returned to stock at Mary's dress agency, I had kept quite a lot of underwear and a few skirts and tops. Mary suggested I wear a loose fitting skirt in a jazzy pattern with a pink shirt and knitted brown sleeveless cardigan. "I think that will look appropriately arty!" she said, giving me a critical once over. She also suggested "sensible shoes", pointing out that I would be spending much of the day on my feet. We found a pair of tan shoes with a chunky 2-inch heel that Mary said would be fine. She also dug out of her jewellery box a long rope of coloured beads and a coordinating chunky bracelet. "You want to look a little bohemian I think", she mussed; "Arty but not scruffy. It is a shame your ear piercings haven't healed yet as I have some lovely drop earrings that would just go so well with the other pieces. Still, maybe you can try them another day." I brushed my hair into a more manageable style. (The "big hair" Carole had given me on Saturday looked fantastic but was a bit impractical for a working girl!) As we drove together into Peterborough, Mary suggested we meet up at lunchtime. "You are going to need a few more clothes for work" she said "and you ought to learn how to choose and buy them for yourself. I'll come with you and am happy to offer advice, but I let you take the lead and only interfere if asked or if I think you are making a really bad choice!" I couldn't see why I needed to more clothes. This experiment was only supposed to be for a week and I probably had enough garments to mix and match for that amount of time. If, at the end of the week, I decided to continue cross-dressing on an occasional basis - and I thought I probably would - then I could always borrow odd items from Mary's shop; why did we need to spend money now? Still I wasn't going to argue with Mary as she clearly had set her heart on our little expedition; so we arranged that she would come to the gallery at 12:30. The morning went smoothly at the gallery. None of my regular customers happened to come in that day and the few casual browsers who did come to look at my exhibits just assumed I was a natural woman. I even sold a couple of ceramic pieces without the purchaser suspected my true identity. Mid-morning I popped down to Caf? Art and had a cup of coffee with Sandra. Paul, her chef, came over and said how nice it was to see me in skirts again. "What do I call you now?" he asked. "I can hardly refer to you as "Brian" when you look so pretty in your feminine finery." Blushing, I told him that Rosemary had christened me "Belinda". "It is a nice name and I am happy to adopt it when in female mode" I told him. "Well Belinda" he laughed, "you had better not eat too many buns and cakes here in the caf? if you want to keep that trim figure!" Guiltily I put aside the remainder of the cake I had been enjoying. I had totally forgotten that, whilst a woman, I had to be more careful about my diet than I was when in male mode. (It had become my habit to enjoy one of Paul's excellent cakes with my morning coffee; "Well no more" I thought with a sigh.) Mary pitched up promptly at 12:30 and I locked the Gallery and we walked together to the main area for clothing shops. "Now remember, it is for you to choose what clothes you like" Mary reminded me. We wandered up the main street and then back again on the other side. I looked carefully at all the window displays and eventually decided I liked the clothes that were on display in Hobbs. They were colourful and modern, but smart and suitable for the "professional woman" that I purported to be. "Good choice" said Mary. "I always like Hobbs' clothes and have bought quite a few things here myself. Not that you would have noticed; men never do, but maybe now you are seeing things with a different pair of eyes, you may be more appreciative of my efforts to look nice for you." I mumbled my apology; it was true what Mary was saying, whilst I like seeing her looking pretty, I had never previously give a thought to the shops she patronised. Anyway, we went into Hobbs and I started browsing the racks. There was quite a large area of the stop devoted to sale items and, conscious that I probably wouldn't get that much wear out of what I bought, I started looking there. I soon found a couple of dresses I liked and, in a whispered aside, checked with Mary that they were my size. "You will have to try them on" replied Mary. "Although the label indicates that they are your size, you can't always rely on that; one size 12 can be different to another. You will find that sometimes you can get into a size 10, whilst with other makes you might need a 14." This was another "first" and I smiled nervously as I took the dresses to the changing room area. The assistant on duty didn't bat an eyelid and I was soon stripped to my underwear trying on the new garments. They both fitted perfectly and, on each occasion, I came out and gave a little twirl for Mary to ascertain her opinion. Fortunately she approved my choices and so I bought them. "You will need a pair of matching shoes to go with that red dress" Mary told me, and so it was off to Russell and Bromley to look for a pair. I found a delightful pair of red heels that went perfectly with my new dress. Whilst they had a four inch heel, there was a bit of a platform sole and, hence, the shoes were very comfortable to wear and walk in. We returned to the Gallery well pleased with the success of my first shopping expedition. "You will now have to confidence to go out shopping without my being with you every time" Mary said with a smile as she kissed me goodbye. Again, I was confused to all this talk about future shopping trips. I couldn't see that they would be necessary. Anyway, I was pleased with what I had purchased and just had to show them to Sandra. She enthused over my things and said, gleefully, "This is one aspect of womanhood you are going to enjoy. I just loved it when I was able to start buying my own clothes. As you know, when I was little I had to hide the fact that I was actually a girl trapped in a boy's body from my parents and teachers and it was only when I went up to university at age 18 that I was able to start buying female clothing. I became a shopping addict overnight!" I happened to get home before Mary that night and decided I would surprise her and cook dinner. I started preparing a nice meal of salmon and couscous in a Moroccan style; taking care to protect my pretty clothes with an apron - something I never bother with when cooking in male mode! Mary walked in when I was about half way through and I suggested she might like to shower and change into something flirty whilst I continued with the cooking. When she came downstairs, Mary looked good enough to eat on her own! She was wearing a short, ruffled skirt that display her superb legs to great advantage, with a tight, low-cut top that revealed quite a lot of bosom. I passed her a glass of chilled white wine and asked her to keep an eye on things in the kitchen whilst I changed. There wasn't much for her to do other than make sure nothing burned. I took a quick shower and dressed in fresh underwear and my new red dress from Hobbs. With the matching shoes it did look rather good and I took the liberty of raiding Mary's jewellery box for a simple gold chain and bracelet. On a whim, I removed the studs I had been wearing in my pierced ears for the last three days and slipped in a pair of dangly, gold-lattice, earrings. Mary was much impressed when I rejoined her downstairs. We both enjoyed a romantic supper and, as we sat over coffee, I questioned her about some of the remarks she had made whilst we were out shopping together at lunchtime. "You suggested that in future I would have the confidence to go out shopping for female clothing on my own" I started; "What did you mean by that? You know as well as I do that in a few days my cross-dressing experiment will come to and end and if I do dress again in the future, it will only be on the odd occasion. Surely I already have enough female clothing not to have to think about buying any more?" "This week doesn't have to be the end you know" Mary reposted. "I can see how much happier and relaxed you have been since you switched genders last Saturday. I can tell you now that your behaviour prior to Saturday was starting to worry me. You were clearly so unhappy and, what is worse, you were taking your unhappiness out on me!" I knew I had been treating Mary unfairly but, only as the tears started to trickle down her cheeks, did I realise how much my mood swings had been upsetting her. I rushed round the table and took Mary in my arms. We were both crying as I tried to stammer out an apology. "That is not the point" Mary insisted, pushing me away; "Your behaviour was inexcusable, but the real issue is that what seems to change your moods is whether or not you are dressed as a woman. Now I don't care what you wear so long as I can be assured you love me and are prepared to treat me with respect and affection. If it takes you wearing skirts and heels to achieve this; so be it. Clothes make neither the man nor the woman. I can be happy with you living en femme just as long as you get back your good humour and start behaving as a loving partner should. I use the word "partner" deliberately, because I find it hard to think of you as my "husband" dressed as you are!" This tirade struck home and I hastened to reassure Mary that I loved her - and only her. "If I have to stop dressing to retain your love I will do it" I insisted. Mary smiled weakly; "You don't mean that" she said, "I have seen the change that comes over you when you are wearing female clothing. Now that you have experienced that pleasure, there is no way you could give it up and still be the happy, loving person that I married." Maybe she was right. We talked at and around the subject for the rest of the evening until, tired out, we retired to bed. Although I was exhausted, lying next to Mary, our satin nightdresses rubbing softly together, I could not get to sleep. Mary's remarks kept running through my brain. Was I really so obsessed with cross-dressing that, having started down this path, I couldn't stop with risking our marriage? I had to acknowledge that I could see some truth in her observations. I had certainly felt much calmer and relaxed since Saturday, now that I was living as a woman 24/7. But love making with Mary hadn't had the same spark since then; what could we do to ensure that we both gave the other what each needed from our marriage? I tossed and turn, but sleep would not come. Eventually, out of sheer exhaustion, I did drop off into a fitful doze but, when the alarm went off to announce the new day, I did NOT feel refreshed! I knew I had to talk this through with someone and so rang Rosemary. She said she could fit me in for a consultation at her clinic at 4:30pm. The day dragged by with my mind racing until, finally, it came time for me to close up the gallery and go and see her. Rosemary was entirely professional; "What you are experiencing is not unusual" she said. "As I have mentioned previously, you are untypical in reaching the age of 43 never having succumbed to the challenge of wearing women's clothing for some reason or another. By your age most men will have cross-dressed at least once - but for many this will have been several times! Since you are a "late starter" it is hitting you more strongly. There is nothing to be ashamed at in that; but you do need to push yourself to the limit in order to determine whether you are a genuine cross-dresser, or if this some passing exotic fantasy. My advice would be that you continue to live as a woman, 24/7, for quite a bit longer and only review what this means to you in, say, a couple of months time." So, at least another 7 weeks in skirts; could I cope with that? Yes I could! Rosemary's advice lifted a load off my shoulders. I suddenly realised that I had been dreading the ending of my "experiment". One week was way too short a time to bottom out my desires to experience life as a woman; I would just have to go on for a longer period! I relayed all my conversation with Rosemary to Mary as we lay in bed that night. "I can see the sense in what she is suggesting" I said, "but the major downside for me is that our love-making has gone off the boil since I started dressing. I want to rekindle the flame; how can we set about that?" Mary replied; "It hasn't been great for me either; but, if you trust me and promise to do whatever I suggest, I think I ,may have thought of a way to put the excitement back into our love-making." Of course, I immediately agreed to go along with whatever she suggested. The next few days were fairly straightforward; I went into work at the gallery dressed "en femme". Inevitably some of my regular clients dropped by and expressed surprise at seeing me prancing about in skirts and heels. I told them, frankly, that I had discovered that I was a transvestite and that I hoped this wouldn't interfere with our professional relationship. To my relief, the overwhelming feedback was supportive; for most of my clients, how I dressed was an irrelevance; what art I could show them was what mattered. By the Friday of the second week of my transformation, I was starting to become comfortable in my new role and no longer found the simple process of dressing a turn-on. Wearing women's clothing was becoming the natural state of affairs. What happened after work on Friday was, however, anything but "ordinary"! I arrived home a bit later than I had anticipated, only to discover Mary in the kitchen, wearing a smart trouser suit I hadn't seen before. She was busy preparing our supper. "Go and shower and change into something sexy" she instructed. Puzzled I went upstairs and took a quick shower. What did Mary mean by "wear something sexy"; I didn't have anything sexy in my wardrobe! Well, at least I had some pretty underwear. I put on a lovely bra and panty set in a very pale blue that I hadn't worn before. There was nothing in my wardrobe remotely "sexy"; so I raided Mary's! I found a very short black and white check miniskirt that barely covered my stocking tops. (For me "sexy" equated with stockings, not tights"). A tight, cream cashmere sweater and check- patterned high heels seemed to meet Mary's instruction, and I piled my hair high on the top of my head and lavishly sprayed it with lacquer to hold it in place. For jewellery, I selected a silver necklace that hung down into my bosom, a few silver bracelets and a pair of dangly, silver earrings. Well I thought I looked sexy; would Mary? I returned downstairs to an appreciative whistle from Mary. "Very sexy; darling" she said, handing me a glass of what I discovered to be as I sipped it, a very strong Margarita! We sat sipping our cocktails whilst I agonised about what game Mary was playing. Although she had a very secretive, dirty grin on her face she would not let on; no matter how hard I pleaded. Mary proceeded to serve supper, still without satisfying my curiosity. The first course was a plate of oysters, served with a glass of sparkling wine. (An aphrodisiac starter; this should have given me a clue; but it didn't!) This was followed by a delicious plate of grilled steak, served with asparagus and broccoli. Desert consisted of a very alcoholic raspberry fool; and we finished off with mint chocolates and coffee. All through our meal, Mary was eying me lasciviously across the table. She suggested we take our coffee and chocolates across to the sofa, where, before she sat down, she poured us both a large glass of cointreau. Now, I am not normally that partial to sweet liqueurs, but, as Mary seemed keen for us to get a little tiddly, I drank it without protest. What with a cocktail before dinner; wine with the meal; and now this, I was starting to be more than a bit merry and was showing a tendency to giggle at the slightest provocation. Mary was not in a much better state! "Why do you seem determined to get us drunk?" I enquired. "Not drunk" responded Mary; just sufficiently relaxed for you to go with the flow of what I have planned." "Well, you may have overdone it!" I complained. "If I drink any more this evening, I am going to fall asleep straightaway!" "No, you mustn't do that" cried out Mary, snatching my half-empty glass from my hand. "That would spoil everything. I just want you relaxed, not comatose!" She swiftly poured, and made me drink, another cup of strong black coffee. She then produced her "surprise". Reaching under the sofa, she brought out something wrapped in one of her silk scarves. Blushing slightly, and avoiding looking me directly in the eye, she un-wrapped a spectacular double-ended dildo! "I have been getting increasingly frustrated since you stopped fucking me" she announced. "Oh I enjoy having my lesbian tendencies satisfied by a loving "girlfriend", but my "husband" seems to have forgotten that a girl needs a good fucking from time to time. As you seem to be desirous of playing the female role yourself, I thought we could satisfy both our needs with this." I blanched as I took in the enormity of what she was suggesting. Could I really take something that long and thick up my arse without being split in two? I had, however, to acknowledge the essential truth of what Mary was saying; I had certainly started looking at hunky men through a different pair of eyes since I started living as a woman and was beginning to fantasise what it might be like to be made love to by one of them. By now we were both blushing furiously. "I have laid out some night things on our bed" said Mary. "Please go up and change into them and then get into bed whilst I get sorted out down here. Give me a call when you are in bed and ready for me." I really didn't know how to respond to this instruction, so took the line of least resistance and "went with the flow"! I hurried upstairs to discover that Mary had laid out a diaphanous "baby doll" nighty set for me to wear. Well there was no point in going into this in a half-hearted manner, so I quickly divested myself of my clothes and pulled on the nighty and matching panties. I brushed up my hair and reapplied my lipstick. I also quickly added another coat of mascara to my lashes. I wanted to look my best for my "man". I also took the precaution of grabbing a jar of Mary's best face cream and lubricating a part of me for which this particular cream had never been designed! I plumped up the pillows and hopped into bed. Sitting up with the covers around my waist, I was very conscious that the diaphanous nature of my nightdress left my boobs very much on display. I called out to Mary that I was ready and waiting for her in bed. She took no time at all to arrive at the bedroom door. She had shed her jacket and shoes and was now wearing only a white shirt and the trousers of her brown trouser suit. The front of her trousers bulged ominously and I gulped as I contemplated what lay ahead. At one and the same time I was excited, eager, and apprehensive! This would be a "first" for me. I had never had homosexual leanings and so had never handled another cock, let alone have one shoved up my arse, but that was exactly what Mary was planning to do! Well, I had committed myself to going along with her fantasy, so I cooed invitingly and beckoned my "man" over to the bed. Mary leaned over and kissed me passionately as I unzipped her trousers, allowing the front half of the dildo to spring into sight. (I had to remind myself that the other half was already well ensconced inside Mary's cunt.) "Hallo gorgeous" Mary whispered; "Are you ready for your lover?" "As ready as I will ever be, Big Boy" I replied, giving the dildo a firm tweak and being rewarded by the smile of pleasure that shot across Mary's face. In no time at all, I was kneeling on the bed with all our pillows piled under my waist. Mary raised the hem if my nightdress and pulled down my knickers. I shuddered as I felt the tip of her dildo press up against my back passage. "Relax darling, or I am afraid this will hurt you" Mary breathed in my ear. Trying to do as she suggested, I felt the tip of the dildo enter me. To be fair, Mary was very gentle. Even so there was a moment of severe pain when I very nearly cried out begging her to stop. However I didn't; and boy was I glad I managed to hold out! All of a sudden the pain ceased, to be replaced with the most wonderful sensations as Mary rocked to and fro on top of me. I was soon squealing with pleasure; "Oh yes darling" I cried, "please keep fucking me; it is wonderful!" I could tell from her groans that Mary was getting pleasure out of this also. We both came at virtually the same instant and collapsed onto the bed sweaty and gasping for breath. "On my goodness" I finally managed to croak; "If I had know an arse- fucking could be this good, I would have gone over to the other side long ago! Thank you darling for showing me that we don't always have to make love in the same old way and that there are all sorts of variations we can try. I REALLY hope it was as good for you?" "Well. To be honest, I still prefer a good length of man-flesh inside me" replied Mary, "but yes, it was an amazing experience and like nothing I have felt before." By now Mary had withdrawn from me and was lying by my side. I suddenly became conscious of dampness under my bottom. I started up; only to be shocked to hear Mary burst out laughing. "Oh my" she exclaimed, "for once it will be your turn to sleep on the wet side of the bed!" What I hadn't realised was, that as I had climaxed under Mary's ministrations, the fact that my penis was connected by tube to the opening in my false vagina had resulted in cum starting to trickle out of me. "Now you can experience what we women go through after love making" Mary joked. She did however take pity on me and helped me affix a sanitary towel inside my knickers to soak up the mess. This in itself was a strange experience; wearing a sanitary towel was another reinforcement of my new femininity. Whilst I was busy remaking the bed - seriously messed up as a result of our lovemaking - Mary retired to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed herself. She looked so deliciously feminine in her "baby doll" - that was very similar to the one I was wearing - that I found it hard to believe that only a few short minutes ago she had been the dominant "male" fucking me senseless. We cuddled down together and, after a further brief period of kissing and petting fell asleep. After this amazing night, our mutual sex-drives seemed to have been satisfied - for a while at least - and for the next week or so we went back to gentle kissing and cuddling. However, one evening, about a month later, Mary sat us down with a drink and started to tell me about her latest research. Clearly my cross-dressing had released something latent in Mary and she was herself now driven to explore new ideas that the two of us might enjoy. "Now I want you to approach what I am going to say with an open mind" Mary started, ominously. "You remember that when we first got together we were both sexually liberal and that even when we started going together both of us occasionally enjoyed a "one-night stand" with someone else?" This was quite true. Mary and I had met at a fairly wild party in London and, like most of our then friends, had been quite happy sleeping around to the mutual pleasure of all parties. Unlike many of our friends, however, I had been strictly heterosexual - (I couldn't, of course, speak for Mary!) As Mary and I had become an "item" and started contemplating a long term relationship, our desire for casual sex with others gradually faded and for many years now we had been faithful to each other. We were each confident in the other's deep and abiding love. Mary continued with her train of thought; "I have been wondering whether it might, just occasionally, be rather exciting to revisit that way of life." My shock must have shown on my face because Mary hastened to reassure me; "Don't get me wrong; I'm still very much in love with you and know that you love me. It is just that we are both going through a period of sexual re-evaluation and, just at present, neither is being totally satisfied with the other. My thought is that, now and again, we might go out together "on the prowl" for a couple of men - nothing serious; strictly a one-night stand - and see whether that "scratches our itch"! It would be fun comparing notes the morning after, don't you think?" Well, of course I was shocked, but at the same time quite excited by Mary's suggestion. Ever since she had used her dildo on me, I had been secretly fantasising about what it might be like to have a real man up my arse; maybe this would be a way to fine out! "I have been talking to Sandra about this" Mary continued "and she has been telling me about a club she used to visit as a "single woman" in the days before she completed her transition and partnered up with Rosemary. The club is called "The Star" and it used to be a working man's pub before manufacturing jobs dried up and it fell on hard times. Some years ago it was bought by a young entrepreneur who did it up as a night club. He has developed a novel and, apparently, highly successful business plan. Each night of the week the Star caters for a different sort of clientele; On Tuesdays it is "Gay Night"; Wednesday is for Lesbians; and Thursday for transgendered people like you and Sandra. Friday and Saturday nights it is a regular club for young people - you know the sort of thing; disco and the occasional live band. On Sunday's it is "Swinger's Night" when pretty much anything goes; and it is closed on Mondays whilst everyone has a well deserved rest! I thought we might try one of the "Swinger's Nights", what do you say?" Not surprisingly for a short while I was speechless; this wasn't the compliant, sweet "little woman" Mary had become over the last few years. This was a re-emergence of the tough little raver I had first met all those years ago in London. The devilish sparkle I remembered so well had returned to her eyes. "Well I can't deny I am intrigued" I finally managed to respond. "But are you sure? It would be a real departure from how we have behaved during the last few years and I wouldn't want to do anything that might put our love for each other at risk." "It will be fine" Mary insisted. "This will be purely sexual and nothing about "love". We must each promise to be totally honest with each other afterwards and to relate all the gory details the following morning!" "Well OK; if it is really what you want" I said, as I started giggling. "Who would have thought two middle-aged, married folk like us might be able to recapture the sexual excesses of our youth?" "Oh I'm so glad you are still the exciting man I married" Mary cried, throwing herself in my arms. "I was really worried that you might have lost your nerve and I couldn't bear the thought of you just becoming some closet cross-dresser who just wants to sit at home in a skirt watching television!" This remark triggered my competitive side. "Nonsense" I responded. "After all I'm the one who started this renaissance by telling you I wanted to explore my feminine side. I'm willing to go the whole way in experiencing life on the other side of the gender divide; I tackle any challenge you care to set me!" Mary was delighted with my reaction to her suggestion and we agreed that we would give the Star a try on the following Sunday evening. "Why don't you have a word with Sandra?" Mary advised. "I have already spoken to her, so have some idea about what The Star is like; you might find it helpful to get a briefing as well." This was a good idea, so I rang Sandra and we arranged to meet privately for lunch the following day. In practice this wasn't difficult, as all Sandra had to do was arrange for a lunch to be delivered to my office at the Gallery from her restaurant on the floor below! "I think Mary's idea is a good one" said Sandra, once we had settled down to our lunch. "Unless you push the boundaries of your cross-dressing, you will never be sure just how deep the drive is and will always having nagging doubts about your true sexuality. You and Mary are clearly both confident enough in your relationship for this not to be any real risk for you." "When I was going to The Star" Sandra continued; "Initially I would drop in to the Thursday "Transgendered" evenings; then, as my transition progressed, I would swap between that and Wednesday's "Lesbian Night". I don't think I ever went to a "Sunday Swingers". And then, of course, Rosemary and I got together and I stopped going entirely. If you like, as well as going "swinging" with Mary, I could accompany you to one of the evenings for the transgendered. I think you would enjoy an opportunity to talk to like-minded "girls"." Another good suggestion; which I immediately accepted. It seemed an age for the weekend to come round. After breakfast on Saturday, Mary turned to me; "Right we are off shopping" she said. "If we are going clubbing to morrow, we will both want to look our best and neither of us has suitable to wear from among our current wardrobe." Well by now it didn't take much to encourage me out of a feminine shopping trip, so I quickly slipped into a pair of skinny jeans; a camisole with a mink-coloured cardigan over; and a pair of flat-heeled shoes. A quick brush through my hair and the application of a spot of makeup, and I was ready. Mary took no longer, so in no time at all we were in town hitting the shops. "As we are looking for party clothes" Mary explained, "we don't need to worry about how well made they are; we will probably only wear them a couple of times before they become old hat! I suggest we go to one of the cheap chain stores.? Our first stop was Primark and it didn?t take long for me to spot a darling little dress. It was basically a tube-dress with little spaghetti straps and a hemline that ended about six inches above the knee. It was covered in multi-coloured spangles and glittered beautifully as I held it up for inspection. Fortunately Mary approved of my choice and, shortly afterwards, found a dress she liked. This one was black and gold with a brief, flared skirt; with just a single strap running over her left shoulder. Elsewhere in the store Mary picked up a lovely pair of gold-coloured shoes with a six inch heel that perfectly complimented her new dress. ?I don?t think you will need new shoes? Mary mussed; ?Your black patents will go fine with the dress you have chosen. However, you will need to buy a strapless bra, and I suggest we go to M&S for that. The underwear here doesn?t look as though it is going to provide much support.? Before leaving Primark, however, we descended upon the jewellery section and I purchased a gorgeous pair of long, glitzy earrings and several sparkly bangles for my wrists. We found a very pretty strapless bra for me in Marks? and Mary insisted I buy a pair of matching knickers. The knickers came in several different styles, and Mary dared me to buy a thong. Needless to say I ended up taking her dare and spent the whole journey home trying to work out how I was going to tuck myself away securely! However, as Mary pointed out; ?If you do succeed in getting picked up tomorrow night, the last think you want your new beau to discover is a pair of ?granny knickers? under your dress!? On the Sunday we had a late lunch and started getting ready about 3pm. The first thing I did was to carefully remove my fake vagina/hip-pad garment. The girls at the Spa had given me some special solvent and explained how I should take it off for cleaning and how to glue it back on afterwards. This was the first time I had removed it and was surprised at how shrunken and shrivelled my penis looked when released from its confinement. Fortunately my testicles dropped back into place of their own accord, but they too felt slightly smaller than I remembered. I also took the opportunity to remove my breast forms and give them a good clean. I reapplied the breast forms, but decided to go ?au natural? down below! We both enjoyed leisurely foam baths and followed these with painstaking work in front of the mirror as we busied ourselves putting on makeup and titivating our hair. Mary showed me how to apply a very heavy makeup that would look good under club lights. Strong eye-shadow over a thick base of foundation; curling, false eyelashes; bright red lipstick; and matching nail varnish was set off by backcombed, lacquered hair. When Mary finally declared we were ready for the off, we certainly looked like a couple of women up for a good night out! Our dresses were ridiculously short and tight for our ? relatively mature ? years, but with our heavy makeup, trashy jewellery, and skyscraper heels, we certainly didn?t look anywhere near our true age. Mary insisted we went bare legged. Fortunately my waxing was lasting well and I shaved of what little re-growth there was whilst having my bath. Mary handed me a clutch bag that went well with my dress. On opening it I discovered she had put in my wallet, phone, lipstick, hanky, and several packets of condoms! ?We each have the same number of jonnies? Mary giggled. We can compare notes in the morning and see who has used the most! I have also given you a couple of tampons and a sanitary towel; you really don?t want to leak cum all down your leg!? By now I was blushing furiously; but, after all sex was what we were going out seeking and it made sense to be prepared! We ordered a taxi to take us to the Star. After all, as Mary said; ?We don?t know where we might end up tonight and it would be silly for the car to be somewhere else, possibly miles away!? The Star was already starting to get busy by the time we arrived and we had to queue for about fifteen minutes before being allowed in. It was worth the wait however. Whilst waiting in line, I could see men ? and some women ? eying us up and down as ?new talent ready for trying?! Once inside we made our way to the bar. I was pleasantly surprised at the ambience and d?cor. I had been anticipating some fairly cheap, seedy sort of place, but I was wrong. Money had clearly been spent on making The Star over. Alcoves with banquette seating lined the walls for those who fancied a bit of privacy. Elsewhere, bar stools lined the counter for those wishing to display their wares. Needless to say Mary and I took seats at the bar. Mary ordered two white wine spritzers. ?Better go gently to start with? she cautioned. Sensible thinking and I sipped my drink slowly whilst looking round the room and taking in the atmosphere. Most people seemed to be of a similar age to us, ie middle to late 30?s/early 40?s. Some had clearly come with their partner, whilst others were with mates of the same sex ? at least apparently ?of the same sex?! After a few minutes Mary suggested we get up and dance. I was a bit reluctant as I was acutely conscious of my very short skirt and teetering high-heels. Naturally Mary paid no attention to my pathetic whimpering and before long I was bopping away with the best of them. We hadn?t been dancing long, when I felt a hand on my bottom; ?OK if we cut in, darling?? and, without waiting for my answer, I was suddenly in the arms of a hunky man who was smiling down at me. Now although I am not overly tall, I was wearing very high heels, but still the man towered over me. He must have been 6 foot 4 inches at least. He took me in his arms and swirled me round the floor. He was so strong that fortunately I hardly had to move my feet; he simply took control. When the music paused and I stood gasping, trying to recover my breath, the man introduced himself; ?I?m John? he said. ?I don?t recall having seen you here before.? ?No, it?s my first time? I managed to stammer out. ?I?m here with my wi?my friend Mary. My name?s Belinda.? ?Hi Belinda? said John, ?let me buy you a drink. I asked for another spritzer and took a seat at the bar where I could check that the barman was pouring what I had asked for. John knew instantly what I was doing and smiled indulgently. ?It?s OK? he said, ?I?m not one of those blokes who spikes a girl?s drink. I can usually get all the women I need without having to resort to such underhand tricks.? I could well believe him; even in my somewhat ambivalent state of womanhood, I found John incredibly attractive. ?Talking of ?girls?? John continued; ?You are one of those special ones with that little something extra, aren?t you?? I had to confess that I was indeed a tranny, but seeing my evident disappointment at being so easily discovered, John continued; ?Don?t be upset. You are very convincing as a woman. Maybe your voice could benefit from a little more work, but apart from that I doubt most people here have any idea that you are anything other than you appear. It is just I have a real penchant for boys who like to be girls and I decided I wanted to get to know you better from the moment you walked in.? This situation was rapidly getting out of hand and I looked round anxiously for Mary. She was wrapped in an embrace with another very good looking guy. ?Don?t worry about your ?friend?? John grinned. She is in the very good hands of my mate Simon. He will take very good care of her. Anyway, enough of this chit-chat; let?s dance.? With that he whirled me back onto the dance floor. Of course, sods law dictated that at this precise minute the disc-jockey had chosen to play a slow number, so John took me in his arms and led off with me pressed up against his very manly chest. To be fair, John was a very good dancer and, although one of his hands rested gently in the small of my back, he made no crude attempt to grope me. I didn?t know whether to be relieved or disappointed! We danced the next set and then retired to one of the alcoves where Mary and Simon were already sitting. Mary grinned up at me and took my hand. ?I think it?s time we girls took a visit to the Ladies? she announced. ?We?ll be back in minute boys, so just get another round of drinks in.? We hurried off to the toilets and had hardly got inside the door before Mary turned to me, smiling broadly; ?What do you think?? she enquired. ?My Simon is a cracker and you seem to be getting on like a house on fire with John. I think we?ve scored here! However, before we go any further I want you honestly tell me how you feel. Are you still up for a bit of experimentation; because if not, we can offer the boys our thanks and leave.? ?No, I?m OK? I mumbled, blushing furiously. ?Great? said Mary; ?I have to confess I would have been disappointed if you had backed out now. My knickers are positively damp with desire to find out what Simon has in his trousers!? We giggled together as I confessed that I too was feeling somewhat frustrated that John hadn?t tried to cop a feel whilst we were dancing. ?OK, back we go? announced Mary, ?and, from now on we are two grown up single women out to have a good time. If one of us goes off without the other, so be it. Just remember we share all the gory details in the morning! Touching up our lipstick, we headed back to the bar and slid into our seats alongside ?our man?. I took a sip of my drink and gave John?s hand a squeeze. ?Thanks love, I was ready for that?. The four of us chatted away for about half and hour. We each revealed enough about ourselves to convince the others as to the sort of people we were, but all of us kept quite as to real personal details. I discovered that John and Simon worked together in some kind of financial activity and that they came to The Star most weekends, not because they needed the ?swingers? environment to pick up partners, but because they liked the buzz of the place. After a while Simon led Mary back onto the dance floor. ?Shall we split? enquired John? ?I don?t think the others need us around, and I?d really like to get to know you better.? Well this was it; was I a big enough girl to go through with this? I knew that if I chickened out now I would never forgive myself, so I nodded to John and gave him a beaming smile as I replied; ?I?d like that.? We rose and walked to the door. I managed to give Mary a quick wave and she gave me a ?good luck? thumbs-up sign. John?s car was parked in a multi-storey just around the corner from the club. I was slightly surprised to see that he drove a rather smart Porsche and not some run of the Ford or Vauxhall. Maybe there was more to John than immediately met the eye. My suspicions were confirmed as he drove us out into the country before finally pulling into the driveway of a pretty little cottage in an out of the way village. ?Welcome to my humble abode? he joked as he handed me out of the car. John?s cottage was anything but ?humble?. He had clearly had it extensively remodelled and everywhere was tastefully furnished with leather upholstered furniture and rich fabrics. He used his iPhone to start some hidden music system playing and I settled down on the sofa whilst he prepared us a couple of drinks. ?Bandy OK, or would you prefer scotch?? he enquired. I told him brandy would be fine and nodded my appreciation as I took my first sip of a rather nice Armagnac. ?I thought you weren?t just some little scrubber out for a quick screw? John laughed. ?I can see you appreciate the better things of life ? as I do. Are you prepared to share a little more about yourself with me now that we are starting to become better acquainted?? Still without revealing any truly personal details, I did explain about my recent confusion as to my gender and sexuality and my agreement with Mary that each of us had the freedom to take tonight?s encounters to the point at which we became uncomfortable. ?Well I hope you aren?t starting to feel uncomfortable just yet? smiled John as he moved closer beside me and put his arm round my shoulders. ?Not at all? I replied, slipping my arm round his neck and drawing his mouth down to mine. We kissed for a very long time ? and very good John proved himself to be. Finally we had to break for air and, as we did so, I felt his hand slide up my leg, under my skirt. I allowed my thighs to part slightly so that John had easy access to my cock, straining to break free of its confining thong. I groaned with pleasure as John eased it free and stooped to kiss the tip. I wasted no time in unfastening John?s trousers and slipping my eager hand inside his boxer shorts. He was enormous! Now I know my cock isn?t anything to write home about, but I have seen quite a range of well hung men in my time ? (in sporting changing rooms I hasten to add!) ? but without doubt John had the longest and fattest cock I had ever seen. Was I really going to encourage him to shove it up my arse; he would split me in two! I asked John to help me unzip my dress and soon I was kneeling in front of him, clad only in my bra and heels ? my thong seemed to have followed the dress onto the floor ? gently sucking his wonderful cock. Just in time I remembered and, reaching out, grabbed my handbag and extracted a condom. ?No jonnie; no sex!? I smilingly admonished John. He accepted with good grace and I rolled the sheath over his erection. ?Just give me one moment darling? I asked him as I hurried off to the bathroom. A quick search of his bathroom cupboard revealed a jar of Vaseline and I quickly lubricated myself to prepare for the shafting imminently to follow. John had removed the last remnants of his clothing when I returned to the lounge and was sprawled out in all his manly glory. For someone who until a few days before had never suspected that he might have a gay side, I was very turned on at the prospect of becoming intimate with this gorgeous hunk of manhood. Our petting became more intense and before long I found myself flat on my back on the floor, my legs flung over John?s shoulders eagerly encouraging him to get on with it and give me a ?right good seeing to?! Ever the gentleman, John obliged! I really was fearful that he might do me physical harm, but, although it hurt a bit, his cock slid smoothly up inside me and I started screaming with pleasure. When he came, it felt as though his torrent would never cease and I felt my insides filling up with my lover?s juices. I had come at the same time as John so that, once we had recovered our breath, I found I was sticky all over. I hurriedly excused myself and retired to the bathroom to clean up. Boy was I glad Mary had put those tampons in my bag; my insides felt as though they might fall out at any moment! I swiftly inserted one and re-donned my knickers to make sure it stayed up inside me. I found a couple of towelling robes on the back of the door. One was clearly John?s; it was much too large for me. The other, whilst still big, covered me reasonably well, so I wandered back to the lounge and tossed John his robe. As he put it on, I curled up at his feet; ?That was truly amazing? I murmured as John leant over to kiss me. ?You are the first male lover I have ever had and I?m not sure you haven?t spoiled me for any more in the future!? Like any man John was putty in the hands of any woman who praised his sexual prowess, and I had no trouble in convincing him that it was time for bed. In keeping with the rest of the house, John?s bedroom was fabulous, with a six-foot bed set with crisp clean linen. We snuggled under the sheets and I fell asleep wrapped in John?s strong arms. When I awoke the next morning, at first I was somewhat disorientated. Normally I would wake up spooned around Mary, with her sweet, feminine perfume in my nostrils. This morning, however, I was firmly wrapped in a pair of masculine arms, with a very evident erection pressing against my bottom. John also smelt strongly, but pleasantly, masculine. Sensing I was now awake, John gently rolled me over and gave me a warm, friendly kiss; nothing overtly sexual, just a very nice way to say ?good morning?. ?I went along with you last evening when you said you were ready for bed? he said with a smile. ?I knew it was your first time with a man and that you would need time to come off your high. However, this did mean I was totally satisfied. I gave you a good fucking; but you didn?t return the favour. Don?t you think you ought to make up for that omission now?? To say I was surprised would be an understatement. It had never occurred to me that John might want to adopt the ?feminine? role in our love making. He was such a manly figure; I had instinctively assumed he only wanted male sex in the one way. Still, I was here to experiment and John?s wish was my command! Accordingly I piled our pillows in the middle of the bed and helped John arrange himself on top of them. I very nearly had a fit of giggles at the sight of his hairy arse sticking up in the air, but I managed to contain myself; John would not have appreciated the joke! I found the jar of Vaseline and lubbed him up before rolling a condom over my smaller, but now very erect, penis. This was all new to me. Previously I had been on the receiving end of an arse fucking; now I was the active partner. However, everything went smoothly. I slipped easily inside John and he groaned gently as I hit his pleasure spot. I gradually speeded up my hip thrusts and we both spurted to a climax at the same time. I found the experience pleasurable, but did not enjoy it as much as I had when I had been on the receiving end. This struck me as being an interesting observation and worthy of further consideration. My ?experiment? in seeking a male partner with whom to have sex had been very successful and I had been lucky in meeting up with John. He was a cultivated man and a considerate lover. I could so easily have ended up with a ?bit of rough trade?, in which case my experience could have been very different. However, all good things have to come to an end and I reminded myself that today was Monday and I was supposed to be at work. John offered to make me a coffee whilst I tidied up and got dressed. A quick shower and an attempt to repair my makeup and tidy my hair were only partially successful. A small handbag-size hairbrush and a tube of lipstick can?t remedy the ravages caused by a night of lovemaking! I made a note that I needed to re-evaluate my ?emergency? kit! The coffee John had prepared was very welcome. He offered to run me home but I declined as I did not want him to discover where I lived. ?Look? he said ?I appreciate why you are being cautious, but it will take ages for a taxi to get out here and take you back to town. At the very least let me run you into Peterborough ? I have to go into the office anyway; I can drop you off at the Railway Station and you can get a cab from there.? This was not only generous but sensible, so I accepted. I sipped my second cup of coffee whilst John took a shower and dressed. True to his word, John did not press me for any personal details about myself on the journey into Peterborough, and it was only as he dropped me off at the station that he remarked; ?Maybe I?ll see you at The Star another evening?? I replied that I wasn?t sure whether I would venture there again and, that even if I did, I thought it would probably be a bad idea for the two of us to hook up again. ?Remember I am happily married to Mary? I explained. ?Last night was purely about sex. I have to admit I enjoyed it immensely and you are a fantastic lover, but we had both better think of it as just a one-night stand.? ?Fair enough? said John, ?but if you do change your mind, her is my number? and he passed me a business card. ?Cheerio then? he called out as he drove away and that was it! Now I have to tell you that Peterborough Station is the last place any self-respecting transvestite wants to find herself at 10am on a Monday morning; wearing a very short, tight dress; ?fuck-me? pumps; and looking like she has been dragged through a hedge backwards! I hurriedly got into a cab and gave the driver my address. He clearly knew what I had been up to and leered at me as he asked; ?Had a good night love?? I did not deign to reply and sat in stony silence as he drove me back to Tynewood Parva. On arrival home, I quickly paid the driver his fare and hurried indoors. Whilst our small community might be willing to accept the presence of two lesbian couples in their midst ? (two of whom are transgender); I did not think they were yet ready for me to display myself as an out and out tart! Mary was in the kitchen as I came in. She was wearing her dressing gown. ?Well from the look of you, you had a good time last night!? she said with a grin. ?And, pooh, you stick of sex just as much as I did an hour ago. Go and have a shower and clean off your makeup; we can talk about our adventures when you come down.? I went upstairs; stripped off my soiled clothes and carefully removed the tampon from my bottom. I cleaned off the smeary remains of my makeup and then took a long, hot shower; washing my hair thoroughly in the process. I wrapped my hair in a turban and put on a towelling robe. I hesitated at the top of the stairs. This was a crucial moment. I loved Mary deeply and did not want to lose her. However, there was no getting away from the fact that the previous night we had both consciously gone out seeking sex ? and had clearly both been successful! What would this mean to our relationship? I had to know and started down the stairs with a sense of trepidation.