A Life Accidentally Planned ch 6 Two to Tango
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A Life Accidentally Planned Ch. 1 Dancing To Someone Else's Tune free porn video
A Life Accidentally Planned
Chapter one; Dancing to someone else's tune
They say that writing is good for the soul and my soul could use
something good. I can't blame anyone else for what happened; I put
myself in harm's way and pay the price to this day. At this stage of my
life I just need to get something off my chest. Sorry for the bad pun.
I guess it all began in 1968. I was entering seventh grade in another
new town. My family moved a lot as dad changed parishes or mom went from
one counseling job to another. They were always busy and I kind of
brought myself up. That meant learning how to avoid the painful
punishments and by '68 I was pretty good at it. Looking back, I guess I
was a tad naive about most other things.
Anyway, on the first day of school I found myself sitting next to Bruce
in almost every class. I didn't know it at the time, but it was not just
the start of long friendship, but a journey to my present life. Bruce
and I became almost inseparable. It was friendship that worked out for
me, because it meant I could spend time at his house and not at home.
Bruce's mom was great and I felt like I'd found a second home, or the
one I missed out on. When really home, severe punishment was the rule.
Mom thought that spanking and slapping were more than just appropriate,
they were needed.
The only weird thing was Bruce's brother, Jim. I wasn't aware of sexual
things. I really didn't have much guidance in such matters. I didn't
think anything of it when Jim asked one day if he could see my "thing."
I mean what the hell, it was just a look at a part of my body, right?
That's what I thought at the time. Later it became a request for a
touch. Nothing else ever happened, but in hind sight I should have heard
warning bells.
Life was really uneventful through high school. I heard rumors of Bruce
wearing his mother's clothes, but ignored them and we remained friends.
I now remember that women's underwear tended to be in areas of Bruce's
house that I guess were not normal, but what did I know or care? Bruce
and I were not exactly hunks and even though I played sports, I was not
the popular date for the girls. I was awkward around them anyway. By
senior year of high school I was known as "safe date." You know, the guy
who wouldn't try anything on a date or after a dance. I don't remember
Bruce ever being at a dance.
Bruce and I both went to college an hour down the road; big school
little city type of school. We didn't really hang out much during
school, but we did get together during vacations. I was still trying to
avoid punishment. During those times I noticed that Bruce's Mom, Jane,
and I had more open conversations about home, girls and other stuff. She
was more touchy feely too. I just thought it was the way that a real mom
acted and I have to admit I liked it.
So after graduation Bruce and I stayed in touch and even saw each other
once in a while. He was working in theater and I was kind of bumming
about doing all sorts of things. I was managing some clubs and
restaurants for a mafia sort, Antony, when I ran into Bruce one night.
It was at the Nightliter, a gay club owned by Antony. I was there to
assess the operations and figure out why the bar was turning a loss.
That was easy, the head bartender was pocketing cash and free pouring
for friends. I called the boss and there was a sudden change in
employees. I was also made the unofficial manager of the club, which
meant spending more time there. I had no special feelings about the
clients one way or the other and even became good friends with many of
the regulars. Though I had been the reason the bar man had been fired,
most patrons and employees thought of me as a sort of hero. I had stood
up to him and made the club profitable. I sort of saved their home away
from home that night.
Feeling good about the firing, Antony's comments and financial offer, I
poured a draft from the bar and smuglysettled into a booth. I had heard
rumors of the "drag" show and was curious. It was really good. I do have
to admit I appreciated the girl who did a great Bowie, when up came
Petula Clark. Oh my god, it was Bruce singing "This is My Song" and
"Don't Sleep in the Subway, Baby."
The reunion was a bit awkward at first, but by the end of the night, and
several drinks on Antony, it was old times again. Bruce was still Bruce.
He explained that he had always had "urges" and asked if I was put off.
I said no, I guess that had always been a part of him so it made no
difference now that it was "out." Bowie came over and we ended the
night as a threesome. As it turned out, "Bowie" was Bruce's cousin,
Angela.
Angela and I became friends. I sat with her every night between her
numbers. She did her Bowie and then there was her Frank Sinatra. For
that she had a drag "bobbie sockser" who swooned as she sang to "her."
At the end the poodle skirted lass flipped the back of her skirts to
flash panties with F.S. emblazoned on the rear before scampering off
stage in Frank's embrace. The flash was Angela's trademark. Her girl did
it at the end of every show, no matter the character.
One night Angela sat down and told me her partner wasn't there, he had
another obligation, and she needed a stand in. She looked panicked. "I
can't do the show without a girl." I looked quizzically at her not
grasping the meaning of her words for me. "Please can you do it with
me?"
"Ah, what?" The shock in my voice was palatable. "What me? Are you
kidding?" My mind was a whirl. I mean what was one to think? I had just
been asked to dress as a girl and show off on stage in front of an
audience of guys, maybe gay, but still guys, and butch looking females.
"Isn't there one of the regulars?"
"You know the routine. You've seen it before. You don't have to remember
any lines and it'll be fun to act on stage together. No reason to be
embarrassed or worried. Everyone here knows you and it will build
rapport with the customers. No one will make a pass. You're safe."
I couldn't think of a comeback at that moment so I was stuck. I was
thinking, but not fast enough and then several customers nearby urged me
on and the applause started as someone announced I was going to help out
Angela.
She took my hand and gently pulled me out of the booth and walked me
back stage as I took my fake and nervous bows. As I passed the bar I
ordered a double shot of Finlandia. Maybe Vodka would help.
I was ushered to a chair by one of the makeup tables and Randy, who was
Dolly, one of the drag queens, came over. "Randy is going to do you up
while I change for the act. Be gentle, it's his first time." The last
words were to Randy who smiled a wide smile giggled and then winked at
me. I should have walked away right then, but no, I had committed so I'd
go through with it. True blue friend as usual, I was stuck. Angela went
into her dressing room. She was something of a star and had her own
changing area.
Randy turned me so my back was to the mirror. "You don't need that yet,
just trust me." He took a brush and after pulling the elastic out of my
hair, began to brush it back. My hair hung over my shoulders and was
always ponytailed in public. He then twisted it and with a huge hair
clip, pinned it to the top of my head. I have to admit to a tingle
rushing through me. I had never had anyone do things to my hair except a
barber when I was young. He then went to work on my eye brows. "Sorry
honey this is going to hurt a bit, but we don't have time to be gentle."
The plucking began. I wondered why it was necessary, but I never even
gave a thought to how I would explain my looks tomorrow. If he said it
was needed it was needed.
To tell the truth after a few tugs it really didn't hurt that much. It
brought back memories of mom spanking or slapping and how it didn't
really hurt after the first ten or twelve blows. He finished quickly and
then trimmed what was left and ran a color brush over what was left. I
couldn't imagine much had been done in that short a time. He bent down
kissed my forehead and whispered, "What a brave boy. I have never had a
better client." He then asked me to stand and strip to my underwear. As
my cheeks flushed, I followed instructions. I guess I was a natural
submissive. As I stood in front of him he smeared a cream onto my legs
and most other exposed areas of hair. He had me sit back down and
brought over a hot damp towel that he wrapped on my face.
Head back and unable to see, I felt areas of my head hair being tugged
and the sound of shears. I made a move but, "Don't worry darling, I'll
make it look real good and you'll be fine. It will be something unisex,
not too girly." I relaxed and savored the hot towel. My hair was again
pulled and this time a band was put in to hold it back. There was some
rustling and slight tugging at the back of my head, but it was short and
painless so I paid it no mind. Someone else rubbed something on my legs
and was dragging what I assumed was a razor up my legs. Then they rubbed
them down with a damp cloth and applied a lotion of some sort..
The towel was removed from my face and I was given my vodka. It went
down quick and smooth. Randy produced his shaving cup and razor. My face
was lathered and I was then shaved. "Stand up and go to the shower." I
did. With water, what was left of my leg and body hair went down the
drain. I toweled off and put my underwear back on. It felt weird. I
walked back to Randy's table and sat down.
Again facing Randy, a creamy light brown liquid was dabbed all over my
face, neck and hairless chest above my pectoral area. "Good foundation
is the key to a good makeup job. Never skimp on the foundation." Yeah,
like I needed the advice. This was a onetime deal I thought to myself.
Once satisfied, randy smiled and told me to close my eyes gently. "Just
bring your eyelids together, but don't press. "Perfect! You're a
natural. Angie should be so proud. First you'll feel the pad of my eye
shadow. It will add color above your eyes and make them a focal point."
I felt a soft something cross from my nose to the end of where my
eyebrows should have been. "OK, now I'm going to use eyeliner. It's
like a pencil so there may be some pressure." I could feel the point go
across my top lids and out toward my temples. Then the same on the
lowers. "Perfect. What we girls go through for a performance eh?" All I
could do was sit there, head erect, eyes close and chuckle behind a
nervous grin. "Now hold real still, I'm going to give you long lashes
and I don't want to smear the glue." First the right then the left.
"Blink your eyes for me. Ah perfect!" I start to turn toward the mirror,
but "No,no not yet we aren't done." I return to look at Randy and saw a
rolling table with all sorts of stage makeup.
Powder was applied, something was brush on my chin, then something else
on my nose and forehead. It all smelled like my grandmother's room. Then
my cheeks and an overall brushing, "Just the right blending. That's the
trick. Just think, girls do this all the time just to look right." And
finally the lips. liner and color. "Roll your lips together. That's
right."
It took longer than I thought it would, but the entire time I had a
strange feeling. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it didn't feel bad,
just strange. Someone was playing with my face and that was ok, but
strange. All was brushed out, over my face down my neck and onto my
chest. "Amazing! You look amazing if I do say so." Randy did one more
fussing motion to my hair in the front. "Now turn around."
I turned to the mirror. My eyes widened! I was staring at a young,
almost teenaged girl, but it was my face. "Holy shit! I mean oh my god!
This is amazing. I never knew what a difference makeup could make." My
hair was pulled back into a ponytail except for a new set of bangs that
hung over my forehead to just above my eyebrows. And what brows; deep
black, thin lines and arched over my blue colored eyelids and long thick
lashes. I blinked a few times. "You really do have beautiful eyes you
know." All I could manage was "I do now."
"We have to hurry now, it's almost stage time. Let's get you dressed.
Take off the shorts." And Randy turned to a pile of clothes. I slowly
removed the tidy-whities and put them on the chair as I stood. Randy
reached around me and pulled a white garter around my waist clasping it
in the back. Clasps hung down bouncing off my legs. "Here these are the
panties for the show. They go over the belt so you can pee more easily"
They were white nylon panties with ruffles on the seat. I stood dumb
founded. Here was a crossroads, at least in my mind. If I put them on
there was no going back. Makeup was one thing, but female underwear was
something else. "Now remember, at the end of the number you have to bend
over and flick your petticoats and skirt up to flash the panties. That's
Angie's trade mark."
WHOA! Petticoats? Skirts? I hadn't thought that far ahead and now, as I
raised the panties up my legs, the enormity of my decision to help hit
me. At that moment though, the feeling of the panties against my bare
legs hit me. What a feeling. I had never felt anything like it. I should
feel bad, I thought, but it felt so good. I pulled them up and tugged at
the clasps on the garter so they hung below the elastic leggings of the
panties. "Oh, something of an expert eh?" It was meant as a joke, but I
blushed at Randy's comment. "No time to be embarrassed, the show must go
on and there is no turning back now." My stomach did a small turn as I
realized Randy was right. There was no turning back now. A promise is a
promise, A friend was a friend and what the hell, I'd come this far.
Made up and in panties, what could be worse? After all it was only for a
couple of minutes, one three minute show. I wasn't going to be in this
get up long enough to find out what Randy meant about the peeing.
"We'll do this a tad out of order, but put these on." Randy handed me a
pair of nylons. "Ok, this is the tough part. Roll them into your hands
like this." Randy demonstrated as he began to ready his Dolly character.
I put my thumbs inside and gently worked my fingers until the stocking
was bunched in my palm and my thumbs were in the toe. Following Randy's
lead I put my toe in and slowly worked the roll up my leg to the clasps.
If the panties were a joy, this was a thrill. I worked the clasps, all
eight of them, and then stood. "Great eyes and better legs. You really
have it all." Randy meant well, but worse, I enjoyed the comment.
"Thanks. Who knew?' I was smiling. I could see it in the mirror. There I
stood a made up boy in panties and stockings grinning at myself.
A moment of fussing at the table later, Randy placed two rubbery things
on the table in front of me. "Now hold still a second." He brushed a
sticky substance on my chest over my nipple area and onto the flat area
of the rubber thingies. "This is surgical grade adhesive. It will stick
tight for quite a while, but it will come off." Then he raised one of
the rubber thingies and, "This is the left one." He pressed it against
my chest and pressed for a good minute or so. Then the right. "A little
more makeup," dab, dab, brush brush, "There almost invisible." The line
between skin and glued rubber things nearly disappeared. "A perfect C-
cup!" Reaching over to the table, Randy handed me a bra.
I stuttered for a moment. A bra. The ultimate female accessary. I was
handed a C-cup bra. I starred for what seemed an eternity at the lacy
garment in my hands. "It's a real nice demi-cup push up. It will help
with the effect. It will make all that on your chest into cleavage. Now
here. Put it around you below the tits" I did. "Clasp it together," I
did. "Now rotate it around and put your arms in the loops. Pull it up
and put the tits in the cups so that they fill and look smooth." I did,
but for the first time I watched as I, no one else, I put on a female
garment. I had just willingly put on a bra. My head was spinning as I
turned side to side to look at myself.
Randy gave me no time to think. He gently tugged my arm, "Now here, step
into this." I did. And then I pulled up a ruffle of crinoline, a thick,
multi-layered white petticoat. If the panties and nylons had felt good,
this was exquisite. I couldn't go slowly enough. I didn't know what was
happening to me, but it felt so different, so good. I was losing it, I
knew it and for some reason I liked it. I shifted my hips side to side
and felt the materials rub against each other. The sound, the felling.
No time to think though.
"Arms up." I did. Down over me Randy passed a full white poodle skirt.
If things going up felt good, things going down did too. "Now clasp and
zip that in front and turn it until the zipper is in the middle of your
back." I did. It had weight and pressed the petticoat closer to my legs.
There was no avoiding the feeling.
"Hands up again and careful of the hair and face." Over my hands was
placed a pink fuzzy sweater. As it came over my head Randy pulled at the
v-neck to make sure it cleared his work. As it settled over my torso I
noticed the softness against my skin. I could see it almost mold to my
shape. Tight on top and a slight flare over the skirt. I couldn't wait.
I turned to the mirror.
I saw Randy fussing over the hair and touching up the makeup of girl I
would happy to go out with: a girl that was so pretty, she would have
been out of my league in high school or college. It was me, but not me.
"remember it is only a character in a skit." I was trying to defend
myself against the person I saw in the mirror. I convinced myself that
the defense had worked. It hadn't. I looked down and on the floor by the
chair was a pair of shoes. White heals about two inches in height.
Without needing to be told I step into the right one first and then the
left. I took a few steps.
Oh the sounds. The clack of heals on the wood floor, the swish of
petticoats and swaying skirt. All was strange and pleasant. Nothing
prepared me for the feeling though; soft sweater against bare skin,
breasts tugging against the chest controlled by bra, and most of all
crinoline against shaved, stockinged legs. I was even aware of the
ruffled panties rubbing the petticoat. I wanted to stand there and take
it all in. My senses were overwhelmed. Nothing before, or since felt
that way. Then I saw myself in the mirror again. I turned to see my
chest move. My tits jutted out covered in pink fuzz and moved with my
every turn. I saw a slight bounce in the depth of the v-neck. I was
enjoying the delay in the turn of the skirt as I swung my hips. "Put
your hands on the skirt and swish it against your turn. I did. I picked
up one leg and twisted from the waist. I put the foot down, scrunched
the skirt and petticoat against my legs and started to double over in
ecstasy. I could have almost died right there. I was getting a hard on,
but I was emotionally in a place I never knew existed.
I turned and saw Angie standing there, "I knew you were a natural."
"I haven't been on stage yet."
"Well at this rate you may by the best 'girl' I've ever worked with.
Even the heals don't bother you." It was then that noticed Angie's
costume. She was in a white tux and white shoes. All white, vest bow
tie, ruffle shirt, you name it, it was white. This was not Sinatra.
There were also three others behind her dressed the same way. It wasn't
going to be just Angie and me. This was an ensemble cast.
"We decided to try something new as long as we have a new partner. We
are doing the Temptations' song My Girl, Just like the record. You will
dance between us as we sing to you like we are serenading you. You just
twirl and dance between us like a tempting vixen. At the end, just bend
over and show your bottom so the crowd knows it's my act. OK? We all
set, let's go."
I wasn't given a chance to answer, comment, question or think. Angie
hooked her arm in mine we walked to the end of a curtain at the side of
the stage and as the lights went down, "And here they are, the Tempters
singing My Girl." And we were walking arm in arm onto the stage.
I heard the music for second. The lights stunned me momentarily, but
then I noticed I couldn't really see anyone in the club. I convinced
myself that it was because all of us were on stage. No one would notice
me. No one cared, so I began to dance. Angie was lead singer and the
other three back up. I twirled from Angie to the backup line. I spun
between them. I heard and felt the petticoat and skirt, I felt the tug
of breast and bra. My hair swung from side to side as I turned my head
from singer to singer. As they kept singing "my girl, my girl, my girl,"
I began to picture the girls at the dances I went to. I passed my hand
over the chest of one singer while arching my back to look at another.
As I did I noticed the third looking down my sweater. I arched a bit
more, almost losing my balance. I swung my head so my hair brushed the
middle singer, "talkin' bout my girl," and swished my skirt like Randy
had told me. I felt the weight of my chest move as I danced. I relished
the feel of petticoat against nylon encased legs. I was into it. Every
sensation was beautiful I didn't want it to end. I was in my own little
world. Her world, whoever she was. I didn't know and I didn't care. The
clothes, the attention and the vodka had worked some kind of magic. I
danced and at the end I turned backside to the audience bent deeply at
the waist and with both hands, threw my skirt and petticoat onto my back
to reveal my frilly pantie and stockinged legs.
The place erupted and so did reality. Oh my god there were people out
there, lots of people. What a smack in the face. Then a thought, "I'm so
made up, no one will know who I am." Glee returned to my body and I did
a deep curtsy as the group bowed. I could see the standing ovation
though my lashes as I fluttered them for the patrons.
"That was perfect! You were great." I listened to the accolades
backstage as we rushed off. The backup signers offered to buy me drink.
As I moved to the dressing table but didn't get far. They hooked my arms
and between two of them led my out into the club. I swished and clacked
my way to the bar amid a standing ovation. One of the singers put his
hands on my waist and lifted me onto a stool. Randy pointed to his legs
and made a signal crossing his arms. I crossed my legs, right ove left
and swung my top foot against the crinoline.
Another Finlandia was poured into a martini glass and a lemon twist was
added. I took a cigarette offered by another patron. Down went the
drink, a long drag on the cigarette and deep breath, "whew," I thought,
"it's all over." I had another thought, "I had survived." I grinned and
then I saw the red on the filter between my fingers and on the glass.
That was my lipstick. I suddenly realized that I was in public in a
skirt. I was and was being treated as a girl, the belle of the ball. I
didn't really care at that moment. After all, it was a one-time thing. I
looked to see another drink, took another drag and enjoyed myself for
the night. Angie sat next to me and we talked until closing. After all,
"Tomorrow is another day."
Lesley
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