Like Mother Like Son 07 free porn video
Three months later...I was sitting in front of a mirror on my wedding day!
LIKE MOTHER LIKE SISTER 07
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HERE COMES THE BRIDE
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"You look so beautiful and happy," my mother said as I lit a wonderful
brown More Menthol 120 in front of the full length mirror. "Agnes did a
wonderful job on the alterations. The dress fits you like a glove."
"Like a tight glove," I said with the cigarette clenched between my
teeth. I ran my hands down the front of the wedding dress my mother had
worn when she married my father. I took a puff from the cigarette and
then held it beside my cheek as I blew the smoke up toward the ceiling.
"If I remember right," my mother said as she touched her finger to her
chin knowingly. "This is one of your fantasies. Isn't it? Standing in
front of the mirror and smoking a cigarette in my wedding dress."
I turned around and hugged her. "It is, Mom. I wish I could wear this
dress every day for the rest of my life! Thank you so much for letting me
wear it today!"
"You're welcome. Seeing you so happy is thanks enough for me. You look
like a dream," she said.
"Speaking of dreams," I said, "this pretty much feels like one. I keep
thinking any minute, I'm going to wake up and this is all going to be
over. I'll be a boy again and none of this ever really happened. Are you
sure this isn't a dream, Mom?"
"Do you want it to be a dream?" she asked.
I took a puff from my cigarette and let the smoke settle into my lungs
before blowing it out. "Of course not," I said. "But what if it is? What
if I'm really asleep?"
"You're not asleep, Honey. And this isn't a dream. For all practical
purposes, you're a 47 year old woman and you're marrying Ken Edwards
today. You're going to be his wife and a step-mother to his children."
She rubbed my arm with her hand and said, "You're just like me now,
Honey. You're an older woman."
A tear formed in the corner of my eye and I felt a lump of something in
my throat. Was it regret or happiness? "I love you, Mom. I love you so
much," I said.
"And I love you too, Darling. But if you really want to get married, we
should get a move on here. The photographer wants to take some photos
before the wedding and I'm sure your Dad and Sammy are anxious to see you
in your dress."
*******
I should have been overjoyed on my wedding day. I'm not saying I was
upset or disappointed, or anything like that. Its just that I think for
most women, their wedding day is the culmination of their life's wishes.
Doesn't every girl dream of a prince charming or a Mr. Right?
I'm not dissing Mr. Edwards, because he's a wonderful guy and its not
like he's ugly or anything. But lets face it. When I was a boy, I didn't
dream about marrying a good man like Mr. Edwards. I fantasized about
marrying my mom's best friend, Margie! I've always had a thing for older
women and of course it starts with my mom.
So how did I really feel about getting married on my wedding day? Despite
what I said about Mr. Edwards not being my Prince Charming, he was
definitely my Mr. Right. I mean I needed a Mr. Right because I was an
unemployed high school drop-out. But that's not what I'm talking about.
I'm talking about the fact that I was wearing my mother's beautiful
wedding dress! I mean what kind perverted sissy boy doesn't get off on
the idea of sneaking on his mother's wedding dress. And better than that,
I wasn't sneaking. I was wearing my mother's dress proudly in public!
Did I say proudly? I think that "without fear" is probably more accurate.
Male pride for me was a distant memory, but joy was in my present and in
my future! Who needs male pride when you have a closet full of women's
clothes and a carton of More Menthol 120s? Not me. I chose my fetishes
and perversions over something more noble.
My mind spun as the preacher asked me if I would take Ken as my lawfully
wedded husband and love, honor, and cherish him until death did us part.
I looked Mr. Edwards in the eye as the preacher asked that question. I
had known what I was going to say long before the moment sprung to life.
I would say yes...because what choice did I have?
....But it was the look of love and respect on Mr. Edwards' face that I
hadn't counted on. I'd rehearsed the preacher's words in my head almost
from the time Mr. Edwards had asked me to be his wife. But now it was
real and it was happening right in front of me. Why did he have to look
at me the way he was doing? Poor sucker! If he only knew the truth, but
the truth he'd never know if I could help it.
It was at that moment that I accepted the fact that Mr. Edwards, right or
wrong, or for better or worse, really did love me and he loved me as an
older woman. This realization brought forth something new to me. It
begged the question; can I love him back?
I don't love him. How can I love him? He's a man and I'm a boy. But he's
going to be my husband. Maybe I can learn to love him in time.
"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"Yes," I said. "I do."
**************
The Reception
**************
"I think this is the part, where I ask you to dance," Dad said.
I smiled gratefully at the man who had raised me and said, "Well
technically speaking, this is the father/daughter dance and you're my
brother now."
"Yes, but I did give away the bride today. What? You don't want to dance
with you old man?"
I shook my head and bit my lip. "I do, Dad. I just can't believe you want
to dance with me. You know...considering the situation and all."
"Come on," he said as he reached for my hand. "It will give us a chance
to talk."
"I'd like that," I said as I guided my father's hand to my hips. "Maybe
we can go outside and I can have a cigarette and we talk a little more
privately. I'm just thinking the things we might talk about might be a
little personal, if you know what I mean."
The music began and my father and I fell into an awkward kind of rhythm.
Despite how it looked, he wasn't my brother. He was my father and I know
we both felt it. Pretending is just so weird, you know? And I was
pretending about so many things. But if you pretend long enough, then
don't they become more real, I wondered?
We turned with the music in time for me to see my mom with Margie and
Susan. They waved and smiled at me and I smiled back. Susan said
something I couldn't hear to my mother. Knowing Susan, it was probably
something smart-ass. Yes, Susan Estes was a smart-ass, but she was one of
my best friends. Whatever it was that was said, my mother found it funny.
Margie playfully punched Susan in the shoulder and shushed her. There was
no doubt in my mind that they were having a little fun at my expense.
After the song ended, I took hold of my father's hand and asked if he
wanted to go outside with me while I had a cigarette. "I just need to
grab my purse. Its by the table," I said.
Dad looked at me and blushed as he cleared his throat. "This is going to
sound kind of...I don't know...I mean its going to sound kind of strange, but
do you think we could get the photographer to take a photo of me lighting
your cigarette for you?" he asked.
I giggled at my father's awkward moment because I knew exactly what he
was thinking. "Its the wedding gown, isn't it? I bet its one of your
fantasies to light a bride's cigarette. Isn't it?"
Dad shook his head and stared down at the floor. "I'm sorry," he said.
"With everything you've got going on, my stupid fetish is probably the
last thing you need. I feel like such a jerk."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," I said. "Its not like Mr. Edwards doesn't
feel the same way."
"But he's not your father. He's your husband."
"And you are my father and I'd say that makes it kind of special. Don't
you think?" I asked as I grabbed my purse and led him him through the
crowd to the door. Along the way, I caught the photographer's attention
and motioned for him to follow us outside.
It only took a moment or two for the photographer to get the picture my
father was almost too embarrassed to ask me for. "Most brides are kind of
reluctant to have their picture taken while their smoking," the
photographer said. "But I think it will make a great picture."
"I think so too. Maybe later you can a picture of my husband lighting me
up, but right now I'd really like to talk to my brother in private."
"I'll check back with you later then," the photographer said as he
straightened the camera around his neck and went back inside.
I looked at my father seductively as I angled the cigarette to my cheek.
My confident and sexy posture made him squirm and for some strange
reason, it gave me pleasure. "So Dad," I said. "I got married to a man
today. What do you think about that?"
"I think you make for a very beautiful bride and it was a beautiful
ceremony. And it looks like everyone at the reception is having a good
time."
I exhaled a puff of smoke to the side of his face. "I think you're right,
but that's not what I was asking when I asked you what you thought about
me getting married."
"I know what you meant," Dad said sheepishly.
"Then talk to me from your heart," I urged. "I know we're supposed to be
brother and sister but I really need a father now."
"What's wrong? Are you having regrets. I mean its kind of late for that
if you are because you just got married."
"No. Its not like that," I said as I tapped an ash to the ground. "I was
wondering about how you feel about all this? So much has happened so
fast," I said.
"It has happened fast. But that's not to say its a bad thing. This is
what you wanted. Isn't it?"
"Forget about what I want for a minute and focus on what you wanted for
me. Did you want this? Did you want for me to be a woman and take up
smoking? Did you want me to throw away my manhood and my youth at the
same time?"
"You sound angry. Are you mad at your mother and me for not trying to
stop you."
"I'm sorry if I sound mad because I'm really not. Its just that when Mom
and I were talking about it one time, she said that I didn't put up too
much of a fight."
"Why would you? I thought this is what you wanted. I thought it would
make you happy. Your mother and I both thought it would make you happy."
"And it does make me happy, but it still leaves me wondering why you
didn't try to change my mind."
"Are you trying to say I didn't love you enough to make you stay a boy."
"No, I'm not saying that. I'm just saying that I wish you had tried a
little harder to get me to think about what I was doing instead of just
cheering me on the way you did. You and Mom both cheered me on. It's
almost like I was doing this as much for you guys as I was for myself."
"I'm sorry if you feel that way, but your Mom and I were just trying to
let you do what you wanted to do."
"But I was only 16 when I told you that I wanted this. Don't you think my
feelings might have changed if you gave me a chance to grow out of it."
"What if I said I didn't think you'd grow out of it?" Dad asked. "You
know how I feel about this. I'm jealous of you son and I'm so proud of
you at the same time for following your heart and becoming the woman of
your dreams."
"Are you really?" I asked.
"Am I really what?" he asked. "Proud of you for doing what I was too
afraid to do myself? Yes, Son. I'm proud of you. The real question that
begs to be asked is whether or not I'm proud of myself and the answer
is...No. I'm not proud of myself. Its not a secret between the two of us
that I just got off on lighting your cigarette for you. For crying out
loud! You're wearing a white wedding dress and you look like you walked
off the pages of Glamour magazine!"
I blew a puff of smoke in the air and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm
sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Its just that I'm
still trying to figure out how all this happened."
"It happened because you wanted it to happen and because your mother and
I are bad parents."
"You're not a bad parent and neither is Mom," I said. "The two of you
are just weird parents and I was a weird kid."
"And now you're a weird old lady," Dad laughed. "Sorry," he said. But
you walked into that one.
"Yes. I guess I did."
*******************
Three Months Later
********************
"Your house is so clean, Nancy! I'm so jealous!," Margie said. "What do
you use on your wood floors? They look brand new!"
"Just olive oil and water," I said.
"Your idea? Or did you find it on the web?" Susan asked.
"Pintrest," I said. "Its amazing. I can't believe the three of you don't
use it."
"Well...we don't use Facebook either," my mom said. "Maybe its an age
thing, but computers are so intimidating."
"You weren't so intimidated on the day you snooped through my computer
and saw all my sissy secrets," I scoffed.
"That was different," my mom said. "You were my son and I was worried
about you. I guess that gave me a little motivation. But aren't you glad
I snooped?"
I sat back in my chair and lit another More 120 and thought about my
mother's question. "Of course I'm glad," I said as smoke from my exhale
punctuated each syllable. But was I really? Was I glad to be an older
woman? Such a simple question...and one I asked myself every day...and every
day the answer was a resounding YES!
I'm not saying I was completely without my doubts or my bad moments. A
bad moment is being stuck cleaning up the kitchen while your teenage
stepson (who is only a couple years younger than you) gets ready to meet
his friends or go on a date. Despite my fantasies of wanting to be an
older woman, housework didn't qualify. I mean don't get me wrong! I take
pride in my house. It meant a lot to me that Susan and Margie respected
my house keeping skills. But on a scale of 1 to 10, with all the things
that went with being an older woman, housework rated about a 2.
For the most part, my life had fallen into a routine, but it was a
routine I enjoyed because it began with putting on my womanly clothes in
the morning and ended with putting on a nightgown. The funny thing about
it is that I still thought of it as crossdressing. Nothing excited me
more than looking my best as a woman- an older woman like my mother!
I finished my cigarette and reached for my cigarette case. I did it out
of necessity and habit, but I also did it with a sense of anticipation
and pride. Its funny when I think about pride.
I've struggled with pride from the first moment I put on one of my
mother's nightgowns when I was a little kid. I remember it as being like
pure joy covered with shame. I also remember thinking how that was so
unfair, just because I had been born a boy. My mother's clothes and her
cigarettes were taboo and off limits to me, but not any more. I was just
like her now. I was her equal and her peer.
I placed the brown cigarette between lips and brought a flame to it as my
mother and her friends (my friends) watched and smiled. I bathed in the
glow of their acceptance of me as I surveyed my clean and tidy kitchen.
I thought about my new family, Ken, Abbie, and Ben. They loved me as
Nancy. The kids called me "Mom". They depended on me and I wasn't letting
them down. Even if I do say so myself, I was a good mother and a good
wife...and I was proud of what I was accomplishing with them. Proud- as in
pride?
I am a boy dressed like a woman. No. I'm a boy who is now a woman- an
older woman like my mother. I looked across the table at her and returned
her smile.
"What are you thinking about?" my mother asked. "And don't tell me
nothing because something is written all over your face."
"I was just thinking about when I was a little boy and I tried on your
clothes and shoes for the first time."
"Most young boys want to fill their father's shoes," Susan said testily.
Margie hit Susan on the arm and said, "I think its so sweet that he
wanted to be like his mother instead of his father." She looked at me and
said, "You know I thought your mother was pulling my leg when she told me
that you had been dressing up in her clothes. You seemed like such a
manly boy, which just goes to show that looks can be deceiving and you
can't judge a book by its cover."
"You were nice to me about it though," I said as I looked at Margie and
Susan. "You both were. I was so afraid the first day I dressed in front
of you. It would have killed me if either of you had laughed at me or
made fun of me."
"It must have been hard for you to do that," Susan said. "Everything must
have been hard because you had so much to lose."
"It was hard," I said. "But it would have been harder not to do it
because in my mind, I had so much more to gain by becoming a woman. And
as it turns out...I was right."
The End
Vera
- 20.07.2021
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