The Yellow Dress free porn video

The Yellow Dress More crossdressing adventures at the hands of Ann and her girlfriend, Susie. Jennifer wears a new yellow dress to a casino. Will luck be a lady tonight? By now, you've probably heard of my situation. My name is Jennifer -- at least, that's my name when I'm crossdressed. After my wife found a dress I secretly had purchased for myself, she put me on a course of crossdressing at her beck and call and, most embarrassingly, at the whim of her girlfriend and my coworker, Susie. Ann likes to keep my crossdressing private. Susie, on the other hand, likes to tease and taunt me with ever-increasing public adventures, but never exposes my true identity. At least, that's the way it was up to this point in my life as Jennifer. Things rarely stay the same for long, however. This chapter in my story continues a few months after my discovery, and after Susie's taunting at work and with the food delivery boy. Susie's French Maid A week ago, I was presented with a Hobson's choice. I was at Susie's house after work, waiting for dinner to be delivered. Susie came into the room holding two outfits. "So, Jenny," she said, "I said I had something for you to try on. Actually, I have two outfits, and you need to decide which you want, quickly. In my one hand is a french maid's outfit. It is complete with the apron, headpiece and these black pumps. Cliche, I know. But you'll look so cute. In my other hand, is that short, hot pink dress I wore to Ann's 'slutty dress' ladies-only party at your house last year. You know, the one you ogled when you 'happened' to return early? You could barely keep your cock in your pants when you saw me." In a few minutes, dinner was expected to arrive for the two of us. Susie made me choose which outfit I wanted to wear when opening the door. But there was one catch. "If you pick the french maid's outfit," Susie said, "You're going to wear it with no wig, just with your hair as it is. It will be obvious that you're just a guy in a french maid's outfit. Or, if you select the slutty dress, you get to wear this wig and these platform hot pink heels. Hopefully you'll pass as a woman, though I think my delivery boy's eyes will pop out of his head. So, which one is it going to be, crossdresser in a maid's outfit, or slut?" I selected the slut that night, and made it through without detection. Since that night, Susie wouldn't let me forget about the french maid outfit. "The road not taken," she said to me. "Don't you wonder what it would have been like if you had selected the other outfit?" I told her that I didn't, but clearly she did. Later in the week, Susie brought the maid's cap to work. I was in my office with one of our admins when Susie brought it to me. "You left this at my house last weekend," she announced. My admin looked at me with a puzzled look. Quickly, I took the cap and put it in my desk drawer. I laughed a forced laugh. "Oh, that's where it went. Ann was wondering where she lost it," I said. I looked as Susie, praying that she wasn't going to out me. "It was a costume party," I added, to my admin. I was already at risk, so I took a chance by further filling in the lie. My fate was in Susie's hands. "It's important to keep the whole outfit together," she replied. "You never know when the occasion to wear it may arise again." So far, Susie had not crushed my lie, but she hadn't exactly let me fully off the hook either. "Take that home, and tell Annie that the complete outfit is ready for use again. I'm sure it will make her happy to know." Thank God, I thought, she's only toying with me (again). I decided I had better give Susie something to please her, or this could all fall apart. "Thanks, Susie. I'll show it to Annie. I can promise you that if the opportunity arises again, Ann will put the outfit to good use." My admin, jokingly, added, "Be careful, big guy, the tables might turn at some future costume party, you know!" "That sure would be a sight to behold," Susie replied. "I'd almost pay to see that!" The thing is, I knew Susie wasn't joking. At that moment, I also knew that the outfit wasn't too far into my future. Sure enough, the opportunity presented itself only two weeks later. Ann told me she was going to visit her sister, Catherine, again. She said it would only be for a weekend. ("So don't go buying any new dresses, OK?" she added.) Ann told me to stay with Susie for the weekend. "That way, I can be sure you're not doing anything unauthorized. And Susie said something about wanting a helper this weekend. I think she has old friends coming over for a party. She said she could use some help with set up and clean up." (I would be lucky if that were all, I thought.) On Friday, Susie gave me the french maid outfit and explicit instructions. I was to show up tomorrow morning at 10 am sharp. "You should be wearing the french maid outfit. Your nails should be fire engine red -- both fingers and toes. And you should wear a matching red lipstick." "But," she continued, "you are not to wear any other makeup, nor are you to wear a wig or style your hair like a woman's. I want everyone who sees you here or on the way over to know that you are just a man in a dress. Do you understand?" I'm terrified. How can Susie want me to do this? How can I get from my house? What if a neighbor sees me? The guy on the corner is a total a-hole; if he sees me, I'm dead. And my other neighbor's 22 year-old daughter? She's so hot, but what would I say -- what could I say? -- if she caught me? As Susie knew, of course, when the morning came, I did as I was told. My hands were shaking as I painted my nails. It was probably my worst job in a long while. I had to re-do a few fingers twice. I put on the french maid's dress. It's much shorter than I expected. With the heels, I feel like my legs are 6 feet long. I'm not sure I can make the walk to the car. I carefully spy outside before making a run to the car. (At least, as best one can run in 4 inch black pumps). There's no sign of activity on my street. That's good. Just when I'm about to open my door, however, I see the neighbor's daughter step outside. She walks to her car. My God -- she's wearing the hottest skirt and halter top. Like any red-blooded male, I'm attracted to her. "If I were single ..." I think. But, just then, I also wonder -- would Annie find me attractive in that skirt? I'd love it if she slid her hands up my skirt and stroked my manhood ... The sound of neighbor's car starting shakes me from my daydream. She drives away, and I decide I have to make my move now. I open the door, check left and right again, and then hustle to the car. I fumble with my keys, but get inside without incident or detection (I think). Susie's house is not far away, and I also make it without incident or detection (I think). I knock on Susie's door. No answer. I knock again, glancing left and right for someone. Finally, she answers the door. "Don't you look pretty?" she exclaims. "You're cuter than I even hoped." "Let me in, Suze. Please." I plead. "I will, but you have to promise me something first." "Anything, just let me in." "No," she responded, "You have to hear it first. Today will be a new day for you, Jennifer. People are going to see you. But that's a good thing. They will know your true nature -- not only that you are a man, but that you're a girly man. I want you to be proud of that. You are what you are, after all. Embrace it." "OK," I say, and start toward the door. But Susie stops me. "You didn't promise yet." "Promise what?" I say. "Promise that, you are a girly man, but you will be happy to be girly. Say it." "I --- I am a girly man ... and I'm happy to be girly." "Say it again, louder." "I am a girly man," I say, "And I'm happy to be girly." "Curtsey," she instructs. I cross my right leg behind my left and bend my knees in a curtsey. Susie waves to someone behind me. I don't know if there is really someone there, or if she's just toying with me. I'm afraid to look. Finally, she lets me in. I quickly get my instructions. I'm to clean the whole house and wash the dishes in her sink. Then, I'm to prepare the hors d'oeuvres she set out and fix a few drinks. Susie will be having some guests arrive at noon. I'm to greet them and serve them lunch. She won't tell me who is coming. Noon arrives and I've completed my assigned tasks on time. I pace nervously waiting for the doorbell to ring. The bell rings. "I'm a girly man ..." I tell myself as I reach for the door. On the other side are two women whom I don't know. They don't seem surprised to see me or my outfit. I welcome them and escort them into the family room where Susie is waiting. The next few guests are about the same. All women. None of whom I know. Each smiles at the sight of me. One even giggled. "Cute," she said. I'm not so lucky with the next guest. I open the door to see ... the salesgirl from the dress shop where I bought my first dress. She of course recognizes me. I think she was even expecting to see me. I wish I could just sink away. ("I'm a girly man ... " I think, but it doesn't help.) The salesgirl is with a man, too. "Hi, Jennifer," she says to me. "Jennifer, this is my boyfriend, Rick. Rick, this is Jennifer, the guy I told you about a few months ago. He came to my store to buy a dress for himself." I say hello, and try to welcome Susie's guests. Rick laughs out loud. "THIS guy came to your store? Wow, he must be such a wimp. And look at him now. I bet you wouldn't even wear that outfit, baby." She defends me -- sort of. "Now don't be so hard on him, Rick. Not everyone can be a big strong manly man like you. Some men are less than that. Some are hardly men at all. Besides, Jennifer showed me the hot pink nail polish you like so much. You just love it when I stroke Big Rick with those nails, don't you? If it weren't for Jennifer, we might never have found that pleasure in our relationship." "Heh, heh, heh," he laughed, "Thanks, Jennifer. I'm glad you're so much of a sissy that you could show my girlfriend her new favorite color. Maybe you can come over sometime and the two of you can rub me with your pink nails. I just might like two 'women' tending to me, even if one is a sissy." A few more girls show up with their boyfriends. But except for the salesgirl, I don't know any of them. When everyone is assembled, Susie announces that I'm her hired maid for the day. She claims that she found me through a Craig's List ad. My name is Jennifer, she says. She doesn't know my male name. "But that's OK, because he's not much of a man anyway," Susie adds. Susie tells everyone that she didn't hire a prostitute (or a gigolo), so there is to be no sex with me today. "You're not to touch fair Jennifer," she tells one of the guys. "Nor will Jennifer suck you off," she tells another. But other than that, Jennifer is here to serve us and to entertain us. I spend the next hour serving food and drinks to the guests. The guys keep me running back and forth as much as possible. One keeps asking if my "titties" are real. He threatens to stick his hands inside my cleavage to find out. (Susie keeps him from doing so.) The whole time, both the men and the women mock me. Only the salesgirl is nice. She knows more of the story and I think she has more sympathy for me. She tells me that I walk well in the heels, and thanks me each time I serve her. She even reprimands Rick one time, tellling him to shut up when he asked if my lipstick smears during oral sex. When the food portion of the event was over, Susie gathered everyone in one room. She reminded her guests that my (fictitious) Craig's List ad said I would "perform" for guests. So feel free to speak up with any requests, she said. "Let us see your panties," one of the ladies yells. I reach down and pull up my skirt, but it's not to her liking. Instead, I have to turn around, bend over and flash my behind towards her. I'm made to do it a few more times for other women. One spanks me when I do. "Speak some french to me," Rick demands. I do my best, but he keeps going. He doesn't stop until I am forced to say, "Je veux sucer votre bite," over and over again. He won't call me Jennifer. He says it's insulting to his girlfriend and the "real" women in the room. Instead, he insists on calling me Craig ("because he's from Craig's List," he explains). Susie tells them that my ad said I had beauty skills. So I spend the next 15 minutes french braiding (of course) a few ladies' hair. Finally, Susie makes me give her a pedicure right in front of everyone. She sits on a bar stool, as if a throne, while I kneel at her feet and polish her nails. She asks for polka dots on her toes, showing the true depths of my feminine skills. At this, Rick finally gets up in disgust. "I can't believe this," he exclaims. "You are so pathetic. Wearing a dress and lipstick. Giving pedicures? Are you man at all there? Do you even have a penis?" He turns to the salesgirl and announces that he'll be waiting in the car. Susie's request is the end of the show. (She likes to be the center of attention sometimes). All of the guests leave, except for one man. "Jennifer," Susie explains, "This is Sam. He was my boyfriend back in college. He has the largest penis of any man I've been with. I'm going to renew my acquaintance with that body part. We want you to watch. You might learn something about how a real man pleases a woman." She leads us both to the bedroom. They both seductively disrobe, while I stand next to the bed and watch. Susie asks me to get her "good and wet" while she sucks on Sam's member. I humbly oblige, with my tongue. Finally, they shift positions and he mounts her. I see her eyes expand when his large member enters her. He's now lying on top of her, with his head turned toward her other side. A tear forms in my eyes. I'm surprised by this feeling. Am I jealous? As he's pumping back and forth, I start to cry more. But, as instructed, I stand by the bed, watching Susie (on whom I've always had a bit of a crush) making love to another guy. Susie grabs the back of Sam's head with her hands, pinning him to her chest. She screams in her passion, tilting her head toward to the ceiling. She screams in climax -- my name. My male name! Susie screamed my name while having sex. Sam doesn't seem to care. Apparently, he's in this only for a quickie. After Sam and Susie both reach their orgasms, Sam rolls off her to the other side of the bed. After a minute, Susie gets up and walks me toward the door. "Go downstairs and clean up, Jennifer," she says loudly. But into my ear, she whispers, "I'm sorry. That must have been difficult. Next time, I want you instead." After that comment, she quickly shuts the door to the bedroom, leaving me alone in the hallway. I'm left to wonder if I misheard Susie. The Yellow Dress Susie's passionate act wasn't the most surprising thing that happened to me that weekend, however. On Sunday night, Ann returned from her sister Catherine's house. "I told Catherine about the green dress," Ann matter-of-factly declared. "You what?" I respond, "How could you? I thought that was a private thing." "Private?" she laughed. "It was hardly private when you told the salesgirl you were buying a dress for yourself. And Susie has you walking around in public almost weekly. How can your crossdressing be private?" I start to explain that there's a difference with family, but Ann cut me off. "Ever since you snuck behind my back, I've been afraid of what you might do next. Returning to Catherine's house reminded me of your dress buying excursion. It bothered me, and Catherine noticed. So I told her the truth." I didn't respond. I couldn't respond. (And what is the truth? I thought). Ann continued, "You should thank me for doing so. Catherine was very understanding. More than I was, initially. In fact, she came to your defense. She said that you were a loving man and that the feminine side of you made you more caring, more understanding and more giving than your average man. Catherine thinks I need to embrace and encourage Jennifer more." We dropped the subject for a while. I told Jennifer about my trying experiences as a french maid. I told her everything except for Susie's sex with Sam and her last comment to me. I didn't know what to do with that one yet. The next day, Ann and I are eating dinner together. "Catherine wants to meet Jennifer," Ann announces. I'm stunned by this declaration, but a weak, "When?" is all I can muster. "This weekend. I thought about it some more last night, and I decided that I should spend some public time with Jennifer. I'm a bit nervous about it, however. I might face ridicule no matter what happens. If people see you as a guy, they're sure to laugh at the both of us -- not just you. I don't know how I would handle that humiliation. On the other hand, if they think we are two women together, more than a few people in this town won't be accepting of that. Finally, if any of our friends see us (other than Susie, of course), there is no putting that Genie back in the bottle. Our lives -- both of our lives -- will never be the same." So, after some discussion, Ann develops a plan. Ann is going to Catherine's Thursday night. On Friday afternoon, they will drive to a new high-end casino that's about halfway between our city and Catherine's. They're going to talk and Catherine is going to help Ann get ready for my arrival. Meanwhile, with Susie's help, I am to dress fully as Jennifer and Susie will drive me to the casino. I am to gamble in the casino for a while, until I can prove I can pass as a woman and, I suspect, until Ann can determine if she can be seen with me in public. Then, if all goes well, Ann and I will spend a lovely evening together and we will return to our room. If it doesn't, then ... well, I'm not sure what happens then. On Thursday, Ann has already gone to her sister's. I find a wrapped box for me. I open it to find a beautiful new yellow dress. It is a sleeveless sheath dress, about knee-length, with a thin red belt and a back zipper. Inside the box is a note: Jennifer, Wear this dress to the casino tomorrow. Put on your red heels and do something cute with your hair. It's long enough now to be feminine. Be sure to pack a weekend's worth of Jennifer clothes. I love you! Ann P.S. Here's $200 to gamble with. Maybe you'll get lucky! I'm preoccupied all morning at work. Susie knows why, of course, and covers for me with an excuse about a death in the family. Some distant cousin that I used to summer with alot, she says. By noon, we both leave work and go to my house. I have to get ready for my big debut as Jennifer. Funny, I've been dressing for quite a while, and dressing regularly for the past few months. But somehow, tonight is different. I try to take my mind off of it by getting ready. (Well, first I try to take my mind off of it by fixing a stiff drink.) I take a warm bath (with Susie downstairs the whole time -- I can't deal with any complications right now). I shave my legs, my underarms and what little chest hair I have. I re-do my nails in the fire engine red I wore Saturday as a french maid. I put on some undergarments, including a little shapewear. Susie comes up to help me get ready. She quickly sprays me with a few squirts of perfume, including one in my crotch area. She knows how to make me laugh, I think, as she says Ann will thank her for that spray. Susie then takes out a curling iron and gives me tight curls on my hair. My hair was just reaching past my ears, so the final product looked like early 1990s Meg Ryan, or the short-haired Jennifer Lawrence (or so I tell myself). Susie helps me into my dress, zips it up and then does my makeup. She's an expert makeup artist -- sometimes working part time when a movie production comes to our town. I'm amazed at my appearance. I almost look beautiful, I tell myself. Susie then gets herself ready, while I pack a weekend bag. "Here, I have a present for you," Susie declares, reaching into her own bag as she's almost finished. She tosses me a white bikini. "You may want to lounge by the pool this weekend. It's my favorite bikini. Think of me while you wear it. (I'll definitely be thinking of you.)" I pack the bikini, though I'm not sure if I could put it on, with the thought of Susie having worn it in my mind. I have another drink before we leave. Susie drives to the casino. It's a good thing, because I'm probably not legal to drive at the moment, and I'm pretty distracted anyway. I stare out the window most of the time, not really saying anything. Susie reaches out and holds my hand. I let her do so. I need it. When we get to the casino, Susie pulls into the parking lot. I don't make a move for the door. "Susie, what if ..." I say. But she cuts me off immediately. "Jennifer, don't be silly. I've seen you in all kinds of situations. You are beautiful, inside and out. Ann loves you. She's going to be there. This is going to be the happiest night of your life." I don't say anything. Then, Susie leans forward and gives me a kiss. It's not a girlfriend, kiss on the cheek kind. It's not a family, peck on the lips either. Instead, it is a full, passionate kiss directly on my mouth. I close my eyes and kiss her back. When we finish, Susie quickly turns back to the matter at hand. "You're beautiful," she repeats, "but you need to fix your lipstick. It's far too late in the day for a walk of shame." (Again, she knows how to make me laugh.) I enter the casino a little nervous. I usually gamble at the craps table, but not many women play that game and I don't want to stand out any more than I have to. Instead, I go to a blackjack table. It's safe, I think. I sit at an empty table, paying attention to my feminine mannerisms. I cross my legs. I fix my lipstick. The cocktail waitress shows up almost immediately, and I order another drink. It's a sea-something. Fruity. Again something that would not stand out if a woman were drinking it. The dealer asks me if I want to sign up for a casino card. In my purse I have only my male identification. I chuckle at the thought of the surprised look she would have if I showed her that, but I decline. I'm playing by myself for a while. Doing OK; maybe I'm up a little. When the shoe (of cards) is finished, an older gentlemen comes to my table. "Mind if I join you, pretty lady?" he asks. "That would be nice," I say, trying to use my female voice. "Maybe you will bring some luck." "With a pretty lady like you," he says, "I'm sure luck will come to this table. Luck is a lady, they say." I laugh politely at his comment. Do all men naturally flirt, I wonder. (I certainly do when I'm not wearing a dress, I admit.) Nevertheless, we begin to play cards. He's "helping" me play -- like I don't know how to play this game. Why does he assume that a woman doesn't know how to gamble? In any event, luck does begin to turn for us. We both start winning the majority of hands. He's betting with larger stakes, and he's amassing a good pile of chips. The cocktail waitress is regularly visiting, and we're having more than a couple of drinks. The cell phone in my purse vibrates. It's a text from Susie. "Flirt with him," it says. I laugh and I look around, but I can't find Susie (or Ann). I ignore the text and we continue gambling. Then I get another text -- from Ann. "Flirt with him, or we're going to leave you stranded here." Again, I look around but I don't see any of them. I slide over one seat, to be next to my companion. "You're pretty good at this game," I say, "Are you a professional, Mister ...?" "Bruce," he says. "It's Bruce. And you?" "Jennifer," I say. "Like the movie star." "You do have those movie star looks," he says. I don't know if the women can hear me, or just see me, so I try my best to keep going. "Well, Bruce. You have that handsome, George Clooney air to yourself. I'm about the age of George's preferred women. So you never know." Over the next few minutes, we keep talking and playing cards. Bruce tells me that he's on a business trip, that he hates traveling alone, and tells me his back story as an ex-intelligence officer in Desert Storm. I feign interest in all of this. I laugh at his jokes and try to stay close to his chair. One time, I bring my hand down on his forearm. I see my bright red nails, as he reaches with his other hand to caress my hand ever so slightly. I'm starting to get desperate for Ann to show up, so I say that I'm getting tired of playing blackjack. Bruce suggests that he teach me how to play craps. I know the game well, but if I can't ditch Bruce yet, that is better than where this is going. We cash in our chips for larger denominations and get up from the table. I've had more than a few drinks, and I stumble on my high heels. Bruce catches me. When I get upright, Bruce offers me his arm to walk. I don't really want to, but I kind of need it, so I am escorted over to the craps table arm-in- arm with a man. At the table, I try to establish a little more distance. I decline any more drinks, going for water instead. I watch Bruce play, and listen to his instructions. But I don't really react much, and I certainly don't banter with him. It's another 20 minutes and Ann still hasn't shown up. By now, Bruce has me playing craps too. (He's "showing me" which bets to make, of course.) Bruce is rolling the dice, and he's been on a good roll. He has a large amount of chips on the table. He needs a four in order to win a considerable sum. He also has a bet for it to come "the hard way," which means double twos. If he gets that, he'll win even more. (I also will win a few hundred. Not nearly as much as Bruce, though.) So, he turns to me and says, "I need some of that lady luck, Jennifer. Blow on the dice and wish for two twos." Awkwardly, I lean over and blow softly on his hand holding the dice. He throws double twos! We both win a bunch of money. Finally, after that event, Ann shows up. She's flanked by Susie and her sister Catherine. All three of them are wearing yellow dresses, very similar in color to mine. Ann's is very short, and showing lots of cleavage. They are very loud and draw lots of attention to me/us. "There she is!" Ann exclaims, "We've been looking all over for you, girl. You said you were going to be at the blackjack tables." They each gave me a hug, as girlfriends would. Ann then presented me with a few items "for the birthday girl." (OK, I thought. I didn't know it was my birthday.) She put a large costumed tiara on my head. She gave me a sash that said "Birthday Girl" on it. She gives me a small balloon on a stick (the casino won't allow the full size ones). And she gave me a necklace, bracelet and ring that had those light up lights on it. Every piece was intended to draw attention to me. There was no way I would be inconspicuous. "And who is your friend?" Susie asked me. I introduce Bruce to the women. Bruce is gentlemanly. "I hope Jennifer didn't lead you on," Susie says, "She already has plans for an evening with us, and you know how wild girls can get sometimes." Sensing Susie's playfulness, Bruce played right along. "We had a terrific time together. Jennifer is a special lady. And I certainly can't complain, we won some money and she gave me an excellent blowjob -- right when I needed it." He winked at me. Ann looked at me funny. That will be fun explaining. We finish our pleasantries and leave Bruce behind. He gives me one of his large chips, "as a birthday present," he says. I cash in my chips and we go to dinner together. I can't believe Ann. I tell her how hot she looks in that dress. It's more revealing than she usually wears. She explains that this was a special occasion, and she wanted to look special. "Besides, she said, I certainly can't have my husband looking more beautiful than me in his dress, can I?" I'm so relieved that she appears comfortable with this. I tell her that I want to kiss her, but I don't want to make a scene. "I understand," she says, "we will have time for that -- and more -- in our room tonight." Catherine finds the whole scene charming. She tells me that she likes me as Jennifer. She says it's more "natural" for me than my male mode. She says she finds my manicure skills most intriguing. "I'm a silent investor in a friend's shop. I can get you a job there. You'd look lovely in the uniform. The skirts they wear are long and tight, but you could manage, I can tell. Ann -- if Jennifer let her hair grow, and wore heavier makeup like they do at the shop, she'd fit right in." Ann and Susie agree. Ann promises me as a fill-in during a busy season sometime. After dinner, I take the tiara and birthday gear off. Catherine heads home. ("Call me about that job," she says.) I expect Susie to head home, too, but she stays. The three of us - all in coordinated yellow dresses -- go to the bar for a nightcap. At the bar, we have one thing to discuss. Over martinis, Ann starts: "Susie told me all about your french maid experience last week. Even the part you didn't tell me." I look at Susie, not sure how far she went with the disclosure. "It's true," Susie said. "I told her how you watched me have sex with a man." I'm left to wonder, did she also say that she screamed my name during her orgasm? "I'm not as uninhibited as Susie," Ann added, "But that image has intrigued me. Did you get hard watching Susie have sex?" I admit that I did, but I add that it was humiliating and I cried too. Ann knew that part, it seemed. She asked me why I cried. "I'm not sure," I admit. "It was difficult to watch her with another man. I felt so belittled. I guess that's why I was crying." Ann delved further. "Are you sure you weren't a little jealous of the guy? Did you want to have sex with Susie yourself?" I'm starting to panic. "Please be honest with me, Jennifer. Were you happy when Susie screamed your name during sex?" Reliving this whole experience is getting me excited again. Suddenly, the high-top stools we're sitting on make me feel very exposed. "I don't really know how to answer that," I say. "I love you, Ann. I always have. Susie is beautiful, and she has always teasted and tempted me. Even before she started crossdressing me. You know that. You've seen it many times. "I guess I did feel a little jealous of Sam. I started to cry because I was attracted to Susie but I was standing there dressed as a sissy, not a man. So, I was relieved when she called my name during sex. But I want to be with you, Ann." Then, Ann dropped the big surprise. It's every guy's fantasy, too. "I'm OK with you being attracted to Susie. She and I have always been 'special' friends. We experimented a little way back when." Susie jumped in. "Ann has great tits. You're one lucky boy/girl." "You see," Ann continued, "one reason I've been uncomfortable with your crossdressing is that it rekindled my own lesbian desires. I thought that was solely in my past. A 'youthful indiscretion,' they say. But what I found out tonight is that I'm attracted to you, both as a man and as the beautiful woman that you are now." She leaned over and gave me a passionate kiss. I could taste her lipstick, and I'm sure she could taste mine. Then, she gave me my room key. "Head upstairs. Susie and I will be right behind you. You're going to get lucky tonight, for sure."