The Lesson Plan - Part One: Endless Summer free porn video

The Lesson Plan Part One: Endless Summer by Tiffani Andrews ~The following story is written very much in the spirit of the "The Substitute" by author Victor G. Many, many years ago it was one of the first TG Fiction stories I had ever read and it left it's mark on me. This tale is an homage to the story that started it all for me. I hope you'll enjoy the ride! - Tiff~ Chapter 1 My little Honda Civic sputtered to a stop in my Aunt Ellen's driveway. I killed the engine, and climbed out. Even though I could smell the ocean on the breeze, it was still a humid, and hot June day. The sounds of summer were in full effect too. Sprinklers clinked and whirred on the neighbor's lawns. Insects hummed. Kids were yelling from somewhere in the neighborhood. I grabbed my suitcase and battered duffle bag from the backseat of the Honda and started up the walk toward the front door. I pressed the doorbell in with my thumb and waited on the porch as I heard the chime echo within the house. It'd been a long six months -- hell, it'd been a long year. Everyone always told me or would razz me about being an English major with a minor in theatre. 'Have fun working at Starbucks' I often heard or heard the equivalent too. Perhaps that's what inspired me to leave college early to try and chase a dream. Now, don't get me wrong, I knew it was going to be tough. But, I also wasn't one of these pretentious college students who thinks the world is just going to open her doors to him. When I left Derby College I went straight to New York with the intent of paying my dues in hopes that it'd payoff in stage time. On Broadway or off. It didn't matter. I just wanted exposure. Well, things turned out to be a lot tougher than I had planned. The money ran out quick, and I ended up back in Connecticut months later, mainly sleeping on couches or crashing at a friend's house where I could. I'd burned through all my savings in New York that it made it next to impossible to afford a place of my own again. My dad -- who I barely had anything resembling a relationship with -- also made it clear that I wasn't moving back home with him. The one bright spot was that my college girlfriend Angie and I sort of rekindled our relationship when I moved back, however, once it became clear that working anything above a retail job wasn't really panning out for me, things quickly cooled off again. I can't blame her. Angie had always been super ambitious, and was starting to hang around circles of people that I didn't have one thing in common with. Y'know, corporate exec types. The front door opened, and my Aunt Ellen greeted me with a warm smile. It was infectious, the type of smile you can't help but match. She was wearing a navy blue sundress and nude wedges which made her slightly taller than my five-foot-six-inch frame. She came in with a hug, and we embraced. Her strong perfume hit my nostrils hard. "Kevin, so good to see you!" she beamed as she hugged me tight. "It's been too long!" "It has," I said softly. My aunt was my mom's sister, and after my mom passed when I was twelve, she had been a floating maternal figure ever since. It was her who had reached out to me and offered me her place to stay until I could get back on my feet. "Grab your bags and come on in," she said. "I made some ice tea earlier if you're thirsty." "That sounds amazing," I said, picking up my bags. "I'm feeling a bit cooked. The AC in my car is shot." I followed her from the foyer, past the front staircase, and into the kitchen. She went over to the fridge, grabbed the pitcher of ice tea, and then set it down on the island counter. I always admired how put together my aunt was. For forty-two she could rival most women in their late twenties with her fashion sense. In her early twenties she had done some modeling, and you could see why. She had flowing brunette locks, vibrant blue eyes, a commercial worthy white smile, and a beauty mark on one of her dimples. Not to mention, a busty, hourglass figure. My dad had no siblings, and she was my mom's only sister, but I still thought of her as the "cool aunt" even if she was the only aunt I had. She was the aunt that always knew what Christmas and birthday gifts to get me, that let me stay up late if she babysat me, and talked to me about girls when I was older. "How'd your dad take the news about you staying here?" she asked as she poured me a glass. The pitcher was already starting to sweat with condensation. I dropped my bags down onto the kitchen floor with a sigh. "I didn't really tell him," I said. "We haven't spoken since the last argument we got in over my living situation." My aunt waved a hand at me and rolled her eyes. "Don't even worry about it!" she said. "He'll come around. You're twenty-three, you're out of college, and you're trying to figure it all out. When I was your age I had gone to France to see a college friend of mine, and met a guy who I thought was the love of my life." "Was he?" I asked with a wry smile. She chuckled. "Not even close, hon. But that's my point. You don't even know what you want yet. I'm almost twice your age and I still don't know what I want yet. You've just got to find a path." I quickly chugged the ice tea down. It felt good when it touched my parched mouth. Ellen stepped over and took the glass from me to fill it up again. "Did you bring me your DVD?" she asked. The look of general excitement on her face caused me to blush a bit. I'd always been rather self-conscious about any acting I did -- even though I was often praised for my skill at it. I pulled my duffel bag up onto one of the stools next to the island counter and unzipped the front pouch. I slid the white DVD envelope across the counter to her. "This is so exciting!" she said with a smile as she picked it up. "We'll have to watch it sometime this week." "It's not really a big deal," I said. "Nothing even came of it." The contents of the DVD were a few of the independent shows that I had put on with some other local actors. We had gotten really attached to a 'grassroots' style approach of getting noticed, and together we formed something akin to an improv group or an acting troupe. We'd had some moderate success, but we disbanded shortly after two of the members got gigs writing for SNL, and me and my friends Lana and Bryan were left a bit in the lurch. "It is a big deal," Ellen said. "We all gotta start somewhere, right? One of my biggest regrets is not pursuing modeling more when I was younger. I sort of chickened out when it started to get tough, and now one divorce, and several career changes later, here I am." I smiled as I zipped my bag back up. Ellen always had a way of making everything sound like it was the best thing going. I did admire that about her. I'd always been too much of a pessimist for my own liking. "Speaking of career changes," I said as I took a seat on the stool. "I think the last time we really talked you were still at Fancy Nancy's and doing some consulting on the side. How's that going?" She gave me a grin as she took a sip from her glass of ice tea. "Well, I sort of got talked into going back to teaching English at Pinkerton." "Get out," I said with wide eyes. "I thought you'd given that up?" "Oh, I thought that too." Ellen smirked as she set her glass down. "The principal over at Pinkerton, Wayne Chalmers, him and I go way back, and I ran into him one day and ... well ... next thing I know he's talked me into coming back for a semester or two." "How do you feel about that?" I asked. "I'm okay with it," she said. "They're in a bad way over there with their English department. A lot of tenured faculty retired last year so I got to name my price. We'll see what happens. I'm not looking forward to spending my weekends grading papers I can tell you that much." I nodded. "A job is a job, right?" "It sure is," she said. "If you want, maybe I can put your name in. They're always looking for tutors and it could put a little money in your pocket." "Sure, sounds great," I said, but tried to mask the deflation in my voice. Yes, I needed work, but the last thing I wanted to do was proofread high school essays. It felt ... sort of demoralizing to tell the truth. "I made the guest bedroom up for you," Ellen said as she returned the pitcher back to the fridge. "I'm going out tonight for a bit, so feel free to make yourself at home. I'll be back late." "Who's the lucky guy?" I asked with a grin. She gave me a knowing smile in return. "No one is getting lucky," she said. "I met him online, and we're just meeting for drinks. Knowing my luck he'll be shorter and balder than advertised." I chuckled softly as she left the kitchen. Despite everything, I was feeling pretty good about my decision to stay with my aunt for a while. I was also determined not to make it a long term stay. Ellen had been great about not giving me a time table of when I had to be out, but I didn't want to be part of that awkward conversation where she might be forced to ask me to leave. I had too much respect for her to let that happen. Chapter 2 Later, I stood in the upstairs hallway, and watched from the window as my Aunt Ellen's red BMW backed down the driveway. I ate a small dinner downstairs, and then went back up to my room to finish putting away what little clothes I had of my own. When I was done, I took my laptop out for a spell, but quickly grew discouraged when my 'Facebook stalking', as it's often put, just bummed me out more. I was smart enough to know that most of what is on social media isn't a true representation of how someone is living, but the never ending stream of engagements, BBQs, nights out in the city, and pool parties made me feel like I was stuck in stasis somewhere. I closed the laptop and went back out into the hall. I felt restless. It seemed that I should be doing something more productive -- like trying to hunt down a job lead -- or something of that nature. Instead, I started to wander the house. I looked on in awe and admiration at the photos that my aunt kept up on the walls. This was a woman who had lived a life. I didn't need a Facebook feed to see that. One picture showed her standing beneath the Eiffel Tower, another was her horseback riding on the beach with friends, and another was of Ellen standing with a group of women on a red carpet at some type of event function. Littered between all these were photos of her at parties, weddings, bridal showers, concerts, you name it. Somehow I had wandered into her bedroom. It was a wide open area with tall ceilings. There was a feminine touch in every corner. I probably would have left if it hadn't felt so welcoming with all its soft, subtle colors. I peeked into the private bath which had a standing shower and a jacuzzi tub. Then I went over to the walk-in closet and stepped inside. Impressive would've been an understatement. The space was almost bigger than my old New York apartment. I wish I was kidding. On the right side, making up the entire wall, were shelves filled with high heels of every type of heel size, color, and style. In the bottom shelves were rows of boots, flats, sandals, and running shoes. On top of the shelving were purses of all different sizes, style, color and trend. The left wall was racks of dresses, skirts, tops, and items that I couldn't quite tell what they were. In the center was a separate shelf for jeans and pants of all design types. It took me a moment to realize my mouth was hanging open. My first thought was that Angie would have a field day in a closet like this. On the back wall was an antique vanity and chair with pink satin cushions and white trim. I must've stood in there for a solid fifteen minutes, just shaking my head at it all. I thought of my dresser back in the guest room where I barely had filled a drawer. My aunt had quite the life for sure. Chapter 3 The month of June drew to a close with very little fanfare. I spent my days between working at the local miniature golf course and helping to tutor summer school kids at the junior high. I was miserable, but they were jobs, even if I was still barely making anything. Ellen, however, remained optimistic. Even after a few job leads fell through. My afternoons I spent on the beach letting my skin turn a golden brown. I'd even started to let my hair grow out a bit, something that Angie commented on the few times we met up. We were civil, friendly with each other, but each time we got together, either for dinner or just to watch the surf, it felt like we were meeting for the first time, and not in the good way. It stung as I'd cared deeply for her, but one of the last times I saw her it felt like I was keeping her from some other life she was trying to get back to. I suppose in a lot of ways I was. The evenings were fun, and a nice reprieve from everything else going on in my life. Usually it was my aunt and I spending time together, sharing stories, or talking a lot about my mom. It was nice to hear about the woman my mother had been before I was born from the one person who could share those intimate insights. Other evenings the house was filled with what seemed like a revolving door of Ellen's friends. Often I'd come home from the beach, or from grabbing a bite to eat, to find the kitchen alive with a group of women my aunt's age all laughing, reenacting stories, gossiping, and polishing off a bottle of wine or two. Sometimes they'd be out on the deck having a smoke, or enjoying a cool evening where the mosquitos were at bay. Sometimes they'd even invite me to join them. It felt a bit strange at first, and I usually didn't say much, just sort of observed. In time I got to know them all pretty well. There was Diane and Chantelle -- they usually brought the wine -- and they lived in the neighborhood. They were your typical bored housewives. Well dressed. Well groomed. Golf ball sized wedding bands, and seemed to know the dirt on anyone and everyone. When I first met them they were gossiping about someone named Jack who had just moved into the neighborhood. "He's got hurt eyes," Diane said. "You just know a woman has done that man wrong." "He can do some wrong to me!" Chantelle cackled, and the whole table erupted. Then there was Miranda, who was the history teacher at Pinkerton, and a close friend of Ellen. Sometimes I'd come home and find them talking quietly in the living room. I found out later that Miranda had recently finalized her divorce, and was trying to get the confidence to put herself back out there. And then there was Vicki and Shayna. They had worked with my aunt at Fancy Nancy's salon, and were usually the big (sometimes brash) personalities of the bunch. Vicki was a heavier woman with a shock of short red hair, and long manicured nails. She was incredibly outspoken, almost to the point of crossing the line sometimes. She'd even remarked to me one evening, "Keep growing that hair out, Sunshine, and with that complexion and those hazel eyes, people are going to start mistaking you for your aunt's daughter." My face had burned with embarrassment, and it only intensified when Shayna giggled alongside Vicki. I had something of a crush on Shayna. She had a full, heart shaped face, and her green eyes were very hard not to get pulled into. I thought Shayna was maybe in her early thirties, but found out she was only about four or five years older than me. However, my hopes for anything more were dashed when one evening she affectionately referred to me as "adorable," and then later asked what high school I went to. You can't win them all I guess. Chapter 4 I awoke one morning to the sound of rain hitting the window in the guest room. I reached up to grab my watch off the night stand and saw that it was a quarter past nine. Today was one of my rare days where I wasn't scheduled to work at either job. I threw on a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts that had been lying on the floor and headed downstairs to round up something to eat. When I entered into the kitchen I saw my aunt at the table in the tiny breakfast nook near the window. I noticed that her eyes were wet, and her face was flushed. She had the cordless phone up to her ear. "My god, sweetie," I heard her mumble as she put a hand to her forehead. "That is just awful." I quietly went about my business and poured myself a bowl of cereal. After a moment my aunt hung up and let out a long exhale as she wiped at her eyes. "Everything ok?" I asked softly. I wasn't really sure if I should pry. "No," Ellen said, and pushed her hair back off her face. "One of my oldest friends, Michelle, is going through a really tough time right now." "I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "What's going on? If that's okay to ask." "Well, for starters, her ex husband is trying to take the house that she lives in with her two girls. Which is one layer of stress, but Michelle's mother, who watches the girls while Michelle is at work, just got admitted to the ER last night for a stroke. It's a huge, huge mess." "Holy shit," I muttered. "I'm really sorry to hear that." She came up behind me and rubbed my shoulders. "Thanks, hon," she said quietly. "I appreciate that. I'm going to be heading out to Seattle for the week to see if I can help." "Of course," I replied. "I totally understand." "I need you to just keep an eye on the house, but do you think I could ask you a huge favor?" "Sure," I said. "I'm happy to help where I can." "I was hoping that you could maybe get a start on organizing my lesson plan for the fall semester." I frowned. "Sure," I said again. "But it's not even July. What's the rush?" "All the lesson plans have to be pre-approved far in advance before the semester begins. Especially with all the new faculty coming in, each with different levels of experience. I honestly haven't even begun to look at it all yet." I nodded. "Shouldn't be too hard," I said. "Mrs. Scheider usually lets me help with hers on the days I tutor." My aunt smiled, and ran a hand through my thick hair. "You're a good guy, Kev," she said softly. "I just want you to know that." To my surprise the lesson plans were fairly simple. It seemed that the administration at Pinkerton was taking a 'paint by numbers' approach where every moment of every day was already built in. That actually made things very easy to plug in, and by the time my aunt returned a week later, I had a syllabus and lesson plans ready to execute for her classes. "Kevin?" I heard her voice call from downstairs in the mudroom. "Can you help me with my bags, please?" I left the makeshift office that Ellen had off the kitchen and headed downstairs. We greeted each other with a brief hug, and I helped carry her luggage back up. "How'd things go with Michelle?" I asked. My aunt sighed as she set her purse down on the island counter. "Okay, I guess," she said, and when she looked at me I could see the fatigue in her face. "Her mother is still in a coma after the stroke, and it's looking like she's going to need to sell the house." I nodded as I listened. I didn't really know what else to say. I had never been good with platitudes. "I had meant to talk to you about this later," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "But Michelle asked if I could come stay with her in a few weeks and help with the house and the girls." I was still nodding along, but then it caught me what she was saying. "Do I ... do I have to leave?" I asked. "I mean I can if you need me--" "No, no, of course not," Ellen said, holding her hand up. "I'm going to need someone to take care of the house while I'm gone. I wanted to tell you because I don't know how long I'll be away for. I have to call Principal Chalmers tonight and let him know what's going on. He's ... not going to be very happy." "He doesn't really have a choice," I said. "This is pretty serious." "That's just the thing, I was his only choice. I don't know who he'll get to fill in on such short notice." "That's what he gets paid to figure out," I said, then I shrugged. "I guess I got all those lesson plans done for nothing. Maybe you can pass them onto whoever takes your place." "Thanks again for doing that," Ellen said as she took a cigarette from the pack in her purse. Now I knew she was really stressed. She never smoked inside. I stood by calmly as she lit it, then exhaled the smoke away from me. "I'm starving," she finally said. "What do you say we go out and get some dinner? I could use a tall glass of wine." I smiled. "You don't need to ask me twice." Chapter 5 I'd found that in the brief time of living with my aunt that going out with her was always entertaining. For starters, she was a great conversationalist, but I also enjoyed watching men of all ages just get tongue tied and awestruck when my aunt spoke or entered a room. We'd settled on a local steakhouse, and Ellen had our poor waiter -- a kid around my age -- practically giving us the royal treatment. I could only shake my head and chuckle. Over dinner Ellen told me all about what Michelle was going through. She also believed that Michelle wasn't being completely honest about how bad off she was financially. "Michelle won't take a handout," Ellen said. "So I have to find a discrete way of trying to help her." As we were driving back home an idea hit me. "Hey," I said. "What if you asked Chalmers if I could take your place. I know the lesson plan pretty well by now. You're only going to be out a month or two, right?" Ellen looked over at me and patted my knee. "It's a sweet idea, Kev, but you don't have a teaching certification, and you technically haven't finished your degree. Also, I don't know how long I'll be out for. It's probably best for Chalmers to find someone who is actually qualified. No offense, hon." "Right," I muttered as I stared out the window. "That whole degree thing." Later that evening I was sitting against the headboard of my bed while reading the playbook for "The Crucible" when I heard my aunt downstairs talking to Principal Chalmers. "Wayne, you have to understand that I would never intentionally leave you in a bad way. What's that? C'mon, now! Are you kidding me?! How long have we known each other?" There was a pause in conversation, and I set the playbook aside as I went to the doorway of my room. "Wayne, that is not fair. You know that I'm not looking to burn a bridge." Another pause. "Yes," I heard Ellen say, her voice had dropped a bit. "No, I'll sleep on it for sure. Let me call you in a few days all right?" I went downstairs and found my aunt in the living room. She was sitting on the couch, head tilted back toward the ceiling. She turned when I entered the room. "Did you hear all that?" she asked. "Yeah," I said. "It sounded like it went real well." My aunt closed her eyes and laughed softly. "Oh, it went swimmingly," she said. "He's asking me to reconsider, told me that he'd even find a way to pay me more if that helps, and he's already paying me more than he has any right to." "What are you going to do?" I asked as I took a seat on the leather recliner. "I'm committed to Michelle," Ellen said, "but in the morning I'm going to call around to a few friends to see if they'd be open to taking my place. I might be able to talk Miranda into picking up a few extra classes." "Will she?" "Not sure, but I guess we'll find out." She stood and placed a hand on my arm. "Anyway, I'm off to bed, kiddo. Let's see what the morning brings." Chapter 6 I didn't see Ellen in the morning. She was already out of the house by the time I left for my tutoring job. I stopped back home in the late afternoon so I could shower and eat before I had to get over to the golf course for the evening crowd. I was up in my room changing into fresh clothes when I heard the door downstairs open and then the sound of my aunt's heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "Kev?" she called up the stairs. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" "Sure thing!" I called back. I finished getting dressed and headed downstairs into the kitchen. Ellen was standing behind the island counter, sipping on a coffee from Starbucks, and looking elegant in a champagne colored summer dress. I wondered, not for the first time, how she didn't think I was a scrub compared to her. "What's going on?" I asked. "I had a chance to watch your DVD," she said with a tiny grin. "This morning before I went out." "Oh...," I said, rather puzzled. Is this what she called me down for? "Well, hey, thank you. Hopefully you're not regretting that decision too much." She chuckled. "Nonsense," she said. "In fact it gave me a possible solution to my problem." "Okay..." I said. "I'm not following." She set her coffee down. "Remember when you asked if you could cover my classes for me? But I told you that you don't have a teaching certification?" She waited until I nodded to show I was following. "Well, what if that didn't matter?" "Then that would be awesome," I replied. "But unless you're talking about mailing away for a fake degree, I don't see how this helps the situation." "No, I'm not talking about getting a fake degree. I'm talking about you -- playing the role -- of someone who does have a degree and a teaching certification." I frowned. "Aunt Ellen, you have completely lost me." "I watched your DVD this morning, and was very, very impressed with your ability to slip in and out of multiple roles. You're a natural, kiddo! You got talent. But it got me thinking that maybe you could put that talent to use playing the role of your Aunt Ellen." I stared straight ahead at her, waiting for the 'ah-ha, gotcha' moment. But it didn't come. "Correction," I said. "Now you have completely lost me. I thought you were calling some friends to see if they would cover for you." "I did," Ellen said. "And they all have prior commitments. It's too short notice." "I don't get it then," I replied. "What does this have to do with me? I'm sure Chalmers will understand." "Look," Ellen said as she came around the island counter. "My word is my word, and I told Wayne that I would teach this semester. I promised him, and I can't go back on that. But I also have my oldest, and dearest friend in the worst crisis of her life. I literally need to be in two places at once. You could help me to do that." I laughed. "Maybe if this was a movie, sure. I'd say yes, you'd slap a wig and a dress on me, then hijinks would ensue. But it doesn't work like that. No offense, but I'm twenty-three. How in the world am I going to 'play' a woman in her early forties?" "You leave that up to me. Will you do this for me, Kevin? I know it's asking a lot." I sighed. "Aunt Ellen, I love you. You know this. You're my favorite aunt, but this is not something that I'm comfortable with, nor is it very plausible. And besides, it'd never even work anyway." I glanced down at my watch. "I have to get moving. I'll talk to you later tonight, ok?" As I headed for the front door little did I know just what happens when you tell my Aunt Ellen 'no.' Chapter 7 Ellen didn't bring her plan up again for a few days. In fact, things had gone right back to normal that it almost seemed like the conversation hadn't happened at all. It wasn't until she played the money card that my interest really piqued though. We'd been enjoying a quiet dinner in the kitchen when she said, completely without preamble: "You know, Kevin. If you did decide to help me out with this I'd let you keep whatever I would have made during the semester. That'd give you more than enough to find a place and figure out what you wanted to do next." I set my fork down as I looked over at her. "You're not serious," I said "Absolutely," she said. "You'd be doing all the work anyway. It makes sense honestly." "What about you? Wouldn't you need the money?" "I'll be fine," she said with a small smile. "I've invested well, and I haven't even scratched the surface of the settlement I got from my divorce. I'd be okay." I took a long pull on my drink. My heart was starting to pound in my chest. It was hard not to be blinded by the golden carrot that was being dangled in front of my eyes. I had to keep my lips pressed together, otherwise, I would have blurted out a response. "It is a very nice offer," I said with a measured voice. "But that still doesn't address my concerns. How in the world am I going to convincingly portray a woman twice my age? That's not saying I'll do it -- I'm still not seeing it." "Leave the logistics up to me," she said. "I just want you to consider it is all." I looked away. Yes, the golden carrot was bright and shiny. The monetary reward was enticing as well. But I didn't know if I could stomach the idea of dressing like a woman for that long. It didn't matter that I couldn't see how it would work. I just didn't think it was something I wanted to do. "Think of it as a role," my aunt said. "A role that you'll need to take a very method approach to. Think of the practice you'd get in. I'd help you." "I need to sleep on it," I said quietly. "It's a lot to think about." "Yes," she said. "Yes it is." I ended up needing a few nights to sleep on it. To my aunt's credit she didn't pester me which helped a lot. Finally, I had to sit my aunt down and express my other concerns. First of which was the chance that I'd embarrass her or worse -- humiliate her -- if my cover was blown. "We have about eight weeks," she replied. "I'll be bouncing around between here and Seattle for some of it, but we'll use that time to get you ready. I'll teach you everything you need to know about being a woman and being Ellen Bennet." My other concern was that I wanted things to be as authentic as possible. I stressed to Ellen that I couldn't look like a guy in a dress. It'd never work that way. We were both taking huge risks, and everything had to be planned out to a T. Ellen just smiled as she told me that she'd already been planning for how everything would take place. All I needed to do, she said, was to say yes. And I think, to both of our shock, I did. To rationalize my decision is to say very simply that I love my aunt, and that I would do anything for her. We also came to an agreement that if at any time that this was not working I reserved the right to walk away. We broke our plan out -- to no surprise -- using a lesson plan. We had eight weeks that I needed to use every free hour that I could to prepare for the biggest undertaking of my acting career as Ellen liked to say. Weeks one and two were purely logistical. We spent, I kid you not, hours pouring over the network of people that my aunt knew and that I might be forced to interact with. I had to take index cards just to memorize every little tidbit about their life that I might have to recall in a time of conversation. By the end of the first week my head was spinning. I also joined in on more nights when my aunt's friends were over. I'd study the way my aunt talked, her cadence, the way she used her hands to express a point, and the word choice that she used. The voice part of this whole ruse was the biggest challenge. At home, Ellen and I would have pretend conversations where she'd say something, and I'd try to repeat it back in her voice. By week two I had gotten most of the rhythm and inflection to her voice down, but couldn't hold it for very long. It was going to take time. If my head was spinning after week one and two, week three got worse. I found myself enrolled in Ellen's Fashion 101 class. A crash course if you will. I learned everything from dress styles and cuts, to skirt styles and types. Color coordination. Accessorizing. I learned what shoes went with what outfit, what handbag to use on what type of outing, what was in fashion -- out of fashion -- and what to wear for certain occasions, etc. Ellen had me walk through her closet daily as she'd rapid fire questions at me: "Meeting a girlfriend for drinks," she'd ask. "Martini bar. What are you wearing?" I was terrible at first, I'd never even thought this deeply about clothes in my life, but slowly, I started to pick it up. To further my study I'd analyze Ellen's old fashion mags that were strewn about the house for ideas and insights. Makeup was by far the hardest to grasp. I just couldn't make sense of it at all. One evening, I sat at my aunt's vanity as she went over color palettes, eye shadows, and enough lipstick stains and colors to make my eyes swim. She showed me which foundation to use for our skin tone, what was an 'evening' look, and what constituted a 'daytime look.' At night, before bed, I'd sit up with my laptop watching tutorial videos online. How in the world was I going to remember all the finite details of this stuff? I'd ask myself repeatedly. Every morning we'd revisit it, after she'd quiz me for an hour on outfits and shoes. I was getting in touch with a feminine side that I didn't know I had. I think what benefited me the most during that time was the in depth conversations my aunt and I'd have about being a woman. "You won't have male privilege anymore," she'd said. "People are going to treat you different -- both good and bad. You'll be looked at differently. Women will judge what you're wearing, how you handle yourself. Guys will flirt with you, subtly and not so subtly." I shuddered at that. That was the last thing I wanted to encounter, but we pressed on. If there was one thing I was thankful for during that time it was just getting to know my aunt better as a person. However, it all still seemed so foreign to me that I was going to be her for an extended amount of time. I was also tentative about putting my own life on hold for so long. Things really didn't start to hit home though until I started wearing the clothes. Prior to that, it all seemed at a safe distance, but that first afternoon as my aunt began to teach me to walk in a low pair of her heels, suddenly this was all becoming very real. I was really doing this. I was going to be this woman. Much to my surprise, I took to the heels pretty well. I stumbled a bit at first, but with my aunt's help, I was able to get it under control. The swinging of my hips took a little getting used to, and while I had never been an athlete, I was pretty nimble on my feet. The real challenge was once she started to add layers of complexity -- walking in taller heels. Then, walking in heels and a skirt. Followed by walking in heels, a skirt, while carrying a purse. I felt rather foolish, and a bit emasculated as my aunt taught me how to sit like a lady by smoothing my skirt beneath me. The first time my aunt zipped me up into one of her navy, knee length skirts, we had a good laugh at the absurdity of it all. Laughter quickly turned to cringe sessions as my aunt made me model lingerie for her to make sure it fit. "You'll need some breast forms or something to fill out the cups," she said matter-of-factly one afternoon as I stood before her in a white lace bra. "It's gotta look authentic, right?" As the weeks wore down my aunt decided it was time to test run the complete look. I got up early, shaved my legs and what little hair I had on my body. Then my aunt helped me with all the undergarments, and stuffed the bra cups with rolled up nylons. On my head went a long brown wig that Ellen had purchased at a costume store. She helped zip me into a blue dress with matching pumps. After we were done she started to make up my face. The whole process took a few hours. "Okay," Ellen said softly. "Let's have a look at you." She walked me over to the mirror on the back of the closet ... I breathed in, and opened my eyes ... And almost laughed. I looked absurd! "What?" Ellen said, alarm in her eyes. "I look ridiculous!" I said with a chuckle. "Seriously. I mean if I was going to a costume party, sure. Maybe I'd take home the prize, but I look nothing like you at all." My aunt nodded slowly, she could see that I was right. "Let me make a call, ok?" she sighed. "Wait in my bedroom for a moment." I went back out into her room, and took a seat on the bed. I took the wig off. The makeup felt heavy and oily on my face. I honestly wanted to wipe it all off. A short while later the doorbell downstairs rang, and I heard the unmistakable voice of Vicki. I looked up as she followed my aunt up into the bedroom. A big grin spread on her face when she saw me. "Well, you have certainly succeeded in making him look like your daughter, but that's about it," she said to Ellen. "Do you think you can help?" asked my aunt. Vicki thought it over for a moment. "Not sure yet. I could make some phone calls," she said. "But this is going to be a huge undertaking, like shy of plastic surgery." She turned her attention back to me. "You sure you're up for that?" Chapter 8 It was a full week and a half later before Vicki invited me to Fancy Nancy's salon. Ellen dropped me off several hours before they opened, and promised to return shortly with clothes for me to wear post transformation. Vicki greeted me at the back door with a smile and a hug. "Follow me back," she said, and I stepped inside. We went down a narrow hallway and Vicki gestured for me to enter one of the rooms where they normally did body waxing. "I think what you're doing for your aunt is great," Vicki said. "And don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone. I want to help you get this look right. It's going to take a lot of work. I called in some favors and had some friends ship me some supplies to make it work. I don't think Ellen had any idea how complicated a task like this was going to be." I had to laugh. "No, she definitely did not," I said. "First order of business," Vicki said. "I want to get you waxed and moisturized. You look like you have great skin already, so that's going to help. So strip down and let's get started." I was a little apprehensive about this at first, but Vicki assured me that there was nothing to be self conscious about. "Don't be shy, Sunshine," she said. "I grew up with two older brothers. You don't got anything I haven't seen." So, reluctantly, I took all my clothes off and climbed onto the long table. Vicki was very good at her job. The waxing stung, but it wasn't as painful as I anticipated. After she was done she rubbed a soothing cream over my legs, chest, and arms that took a lot of the redness away. I was laying there quietly, recovering, when Vicki came back into the room with a set of white boxes and some other supplies. "Okay," she said. "Now is the first hurdle. Your lovely aunt has that hourglass figure that we all know and love. So, we gotta make sure that you have the same thing." She went over to the chair where she had set a box down and opened the lid. Out of it came what looked like a flesh colored thong. "This is called a gaff," Vicki said. "It's going to keep you nice and flat in front that way if a hand goes up your skirt, your secret is not exposed." My face flushed. "No hands are going up my skirt," I muttered. Vicki laughed as she had me work the garment up my legs. It took some adjusting, but I was able to tuck my penis away into the gaff's sleeve as it securely kept everything between my legs. The thing definitely wasn't made for comfort. I squirmed around a bit, trying to find a position where it didn't feel so strange. "I'm going to need you to lay still," Vicki said as she was undoing the lids to more of the boxes. I looked over as she was snapping on a pair of purple latex gloves and reading the back of a brown bottle. She unscrewed the lid which had a little brush attached to it. She came over and started to liberally swab a caramel colored liquid onto the side of my hips, then my chest. She stepped away, then returned first with two odd shaped, flesh colored silicone pads. She pressed the first one, then the second, against my hips. I glanced down as she used her fingers to meld the pads into my sides and I was astonished to see it start to match my skin tone. "Whoa," I said softly. "Pretty cool, right?" Vicki asked with a smile. "Helps when you used to date a guy who does makeup and special effects for the movies." Once she was done I was shocked to see that it actually looked like I had wider hips and thighs by comparison. Before I could ask about how I was supposed to remove the new additions, Vicki was having me lay back as she repeated the process, but with two lifelike looking breast forms. This took more adjustment as she seated them onto my chest. "Congratulations," Vicki said. "You went from an A cup to a 34C." I sat up on my elbows. "Holy shit," I said. "These look friggin' real!" An icy panic was starting to set in. Maybe this was going too far. I cannot describe to you the sensation of taking a breath in and watching your own 'breasts' rise and fall. I reached out, and touched them with my hand. God, they even felt real... "You'll have plenty of time to play with the girls later," Vicki snorted with a laugh. "But we still have a lot of work to do." She handed me a black, silk robe and after I slipped into it I followed her out into the salon. I took a seat down in the leather salon chair, and Vicki spun me away from the mirror so I couldn't see myself. The next twenty minutes she spent painting my toenails a deep cherry red. My hands got the same treatment with the addition of nail extensions. I looked down at my new 'claws' and studied them. My small hands looked so overtly feminine now. I was lost in thought when I felt a stinging on my left earlobe. "Ah, hey!" I cried. "A little warning would help!" "Sorry," Vicki said with a chuckle as she stepped around me with the piercing gun and I felt a similar pinch in my right earlobe. My ears hummed for a bit, then the pain finally subsided. "I'm going to put placeholder earrings in there for now to stretch the hole a bit." After she was done she disappeared for a moment. I let a breath out. I was starting to have second thoughts about all this, but I hesitated to say anything. I had agreed to do this for my aunt and I at least wanted to see it through. I closed my eyes and told myself that this was just a role. Nothing more. Vicki returned with a tray in hand and we began once again. "These are teeth prosthetics," she said as she held up a set of pearly whites. "I'm going to be using a chemical adhesive to bond them over your teeth. It'll give you that chewing gum commercial smile." The process was rather uncomfortable as I had to sit with my mouth shut tight so the prosthetics could bond. While we waited, Vicki fastened a black cap over my head, and explained how the most complicated part of the process was going to work. On the tray was a small, white box, and she lifted the lid. Inside was a semi-translucent mask in the shape of a face. Some sections of the mask had already been filled in with flesh tone. "This is what's going to help us get the facial part of the look down," she said. "I'm going to scrub your face clean after I do your eyebrows. I used the template of this mask to get a base made of your aunt's face. This will overlay on your face, but it's lightweight, so you won't feel a thing. The beauty of it is that you'll have all the age lines, beauty mark, and dimples that your aunt does by the time we're finished." I couldn't even reply -- and not just because I had to keep my jaw set -- I couldn't believe the trouble Vicki had gone through to pull this off. The entire process took about an hour as Vicki reshaped my eyebrows and gave my face a full scrub down. She was right, I didn't feel the 'mask' at all. She worked deliberately, and I found out that the mask had built in silicone to help change my jawline, and general face shape, making it softer and more feminine. When the foundation had been in place, she started in on the actual makeup. The process was slow, tedious, and she stopped every few minutes to show me what she was doing and how she was doing it. Vicki's cell went off on the counter behind us and she stepped over to check on it. "Looks like your aunt is here to drop off the clothes you'll be wearing. We're not going to let her see you yet though." She headed for the back of the salon and I could hear my aunt's voice already. "Can I see my twin?" Ellen asked. Vicki wasn't having it. "No way! You leave the bag of clothes over there and I'll call you in when I'm done." I looked up as she walked back into the room shaking her head. "And here I thought one Ellen was a handful. Okay, sister. Let's get your hair did and bring this all home." The hair ended up being the easiest part. Vicki explained that a wig -- even a really good one -- just wasn't good long term and that it'd be too hot. Instead, she opted on attaching extensions in the long hair that I'd been growing, and giving the impression that I had a heavily layered cut. She even used some highlights to give my hair more of an ombre tone like my aunt had. By the time she was done, my head felt heavier, fuller, and my neck itched a bit as my new hair cascaded down to my shoulders. Vicki had me stand up, but made me promise not to look at myself until the whole look was complete. She left the room again, and came back with two bags of clothes. Out of the first bag she passed me over a white strapless bra and matching panties. I pulled the panties up my legs and got the bra snapped into place no problem. I made the mistake of looking down at myself and my bottom lip trembled. I was staring at the curvy body of a woman. The gaff made my panties (my panties?) fit snug. The breasts looked real -- and huge -- as they jiggled in the bra cups. My face started to warm with embarrassment, but Vicki hadn't caught onto my revelation. She was already passing me over a pair of ankle length, white, skinny jeans. They left absolutely no spare room as they stretched over my new hips. The top was a sleeveless, mint green, peplum style flock. The hem stopped just at my belt line. Next, were the heels of course. And my aunt had spared no expense there. The shoes had a five and a half inch stiletto cork heel. They were peep toe platforms and the straps were mint green as well. I tried to steady myself as Vicki helped fasten a gold cuff bracelet onto my left wrist. The placeholder earrings got swapped with dangly mint green emerald shaped earrings. "Let's spritz you with a little Dolce & Gabbana," Vicki said taking a small perfume bottle out of the mint green handbag that I assumed was going to be mine. I breathed in the feminine scent as she spritzed behind my neck and then my wrists. She stepped back to look me over, and touch up my hair one more time with her fingers, then she took the handbag and hooked the handles over the crook of my elbow. "Your aunt is going to freak," Vicki said with a wide grin. "Now, stand a little straighter and put your left hand on your hip -- yes, like that. Okay. I'm going to go get Ellen." Before she left she looked me over one last time. "Welcome to the other side, Sunshine." Chapter 9 "Oh my god...," my aunt said, her eyes were wide in a mix of shock and horror. "Oh my god... Ohmigod! Vicki...? Holy shit!" She stepped toward me apprehensively, and lightly lifted a hand almost to touch my face. "Kevin? Is that really you under all that?" "Yeah," I said in my voice. "It's me." My aunt clapped both hands over her mouth. "Holy shit -- that's freaky!" Vicki was beaming. She stepped back over to me and nudged my elbow. "All right. Now it's your turn to get freaked out. Go take a look at yourself in the large mirror on the far wall." I turned, and started to stride toward the mirror. I heard Vicki give a wolf whistle -- "Let's see your runway walk!" -- the tall heels clicked and clacked over the tiled floor. Each step caused my large bosom to bounce up and down. Now that was going to take some getting acquainted with. I tried to recall all my training as I swung my hips and walked heel to toe. When I reached the mirror my heart stopped. My knees almost gave way a bit too -- but that might have been the heels. I saw the reflection of my aunt -- no -- of me. I saw the reflection's bottom jaw open in stunned amazement. Now it was my turn to walk apprehensively forward. I smiled, I frowned, I tried to look puzzled. Each look was indicative of Ellen. Even the beauty mark looked authentic. My eyes they actually started to water. I couldn't see Kevin anywhere within me. I was staring at my forty-two year old aunt. I lifted a manicured hand and touched my cheek. "Oh my god," I said, echoing Ellen. "This is unreal." This was real. I was really going to do this. An odd feeling struck me. I was a woman now. No one was going to mistake me for anything different. I felt someone behind me and turned to see my aunt. She was smiling, her eyes were wet too. Before I knew it we were hugging. Our breasts touched, causing us both to laugh in a weird tone. God, this was so strange. "Kevin," she breathed into my ear. "I can't thank you enough for this. Truly. You have no idea how much this means to me and--" She pulled away, and laughed nervously again. "Christ, this is so damn weird! But I need you to know that this means a lot to me." "I know," I said. "In a weird way ... I'm happy to do this for you. You've done so much for me." She laughed again. "I appreciate that, hon. But can you do me a favor? When you're like this, can you use -- well -- my voice? It's just too strange hearing your voice coming out of you." I laughed too, and cleared my throat. "How's that?" I asked in my best Ellen impression. "Or does this still make it weird?" "Still weird," Ellen said. "But better." We walked back across the salon toward Vicki. "There's the beautiful Bennet twins," she said with a smile. "So, Miss Ellen number two. Your aunt and I figured that once we did this that the real test run would begin." "What do you mean?" I asked, raising a newly arched eyebrow. "Acclimation," my aunt said. "I'm going to leave you the keys to my BMW. I want you to go out for the day. Drive around, go shopping, get lunch. I want you to get used to being out there in public like you are now. Everything has to seem natural come the start of the school year." "By myself?" I asked, reverting back to my Kevin voice. "Yes," Ellen said. "I'll be a phone call away if you need anything, but I want you to get comfortable on your own." "And what happens after I get acclimated?" Vicki laughed. "Let's see how this goes first." Chapter 10 I'd barely made it three miles from the salon before disaster had found me. I was sitting in the driver's seat of Ellen's red BMW, and pulled off to the side of the road. One of the things we had not covered during the preparation process was how to drive a stick shift in five inch heels. I may or may not have rolled through a stop sign when I had trouble pressing the brakes. I looked up into the rearview mirror and saw the flashing lights of the cop car that had pulled me over. I sighed, more frustrated than anything. Of all the days for there to be a cop at the end of Foxtrot Road it had to be today. I saw the officer climb out of his cruiser and slowly start toward my car. I was thankful that Ellen had the foresight to get a copy of her license made. It was presently sitting in the ladies wallet in my handbag. I took the car registration out of the glovebox and set it down next to the purse on the passenger seat. As the officer approached I shakily took my hand and forced it to roll the window down. The morning's humidity was already climbing and the sticky air permeated the car. I took off Ellen's Chanel sunglasses and put them in the console. Deep breaths, I told myself. "Ma'am," he said in way of a hello as he stepped up next to the window. He was tall, with a blotchy face, and big gray eyes. His hair was cut to the scalp in a crewcut. The name plate on his uniform said 'T. Driscoll.' "Where you off to this morning?" he asked. I took a hard swallow. Here we go ... "Oh, just off to the mall," I said in my best Ellen voice, and forced a smile. The officer smirked. "There a shoe sale you're trying to get to that prevented you from seeing that stop sign back there?" "I don't think I need more shoes," I joked, and flashed another smile. "I barely broke in the ones I have on, which made it a little tough to hit the brakes back there." He nodded, and I internally cringed. Good one, Kevin. Just tell the officer of the law that you're not fit to operate the car based on your damn shoes. "Can I see your license and reg, ma'am?" he asked. "Of course," I replied, my voice was starting to waver. It was going to take some getting used to being called 'ma'am'. I carefully leaned over to my giant purse and fished out the matching wallet. I slid the driver's license out, and passed it over to him along with the registration. I watched as he took them from my manicured fingers -- which looked so small, and delicate -- compared to his much larger hand. "Be right back," he said, and headed back toward his cruiser. I exhaled heavily as he stepped away. Well, on the plus side he hadn't suspected that I was a guy under all this. So I had that going for me. It was, however, a nerve wracking ten minutes as I sat there on the side of the road. Finally, I looked up in my rearview, and saw him stepping out of his cruiser and heading back toward the BMW. "You're all set, ma'am," he said as he passed my license and registration back over. "My advice, wear better shoes and be more aware of your surroundings, ok?" I nodded, relieved, I could feel some of the color coming back to my face. "Thank you," I said. "Not a problem," he replied. I waited to see if he was going to step away, but he hung there near my window for a moment. "I don't know if you ever get over to JJ's, but I sometimes shoot pool over there or watch whatever game is on. Might be nice if you swung in one night." I tried to stop my jaw from opening, and instead just gave a curt nod. "Oh, uh ... yeah. I'll definitely consider it. Thank you." I finally was able to say as the shock wore off. I couldn't believe he was openly flirting with me. This disguise is good -- maybe too good! "Have a good day, ma'am," he said, and finally left. I sat in stunned silence as he pulled back out onto the road and actually gave me a two finger wave as he passed. Chapter 11 I decided to stop at the Regency Plaza Mall the next town over to cut down on the chance of running into anyone Ellen knew. I was still trying to get 'acclimated' as my aunt put it. I didn't know if I was ready to put my 'performance' to the test yet. The mall was modestly busy for a late weekday morning. Pockets of teens and tweens roamed throughout the food court and the lounge areas. Suburban wives shopped in twos or threes as they zipped in and out of nearby stores or pushed along strollers. I click-clacked along in my heels through the first floor, more window shopping than anything. The experience was a bit surreal. You often perceive yourself being viewed one way, but we don't often get the chance to change that perception so drastically. Suddenly, employees working the kiosks wanted to talk to me. Kevin would've been ignored, but as Ellen, they wanted me to try their hand cream products out, or their hair products, or to look at their knockoff handbags or whatever else they were slinging. Even the social circles changed a bit. I could walk past the teens and tweens and go fully ignored. They probably thought I was just someone's mother if they even looked twice. The suburban wives would glance my way, assess what I was wearing, and whisper a remark to their cohort that they liked my bag or my shoes. Sometimes they just stared with an envious look in their eye. I knew the look well. I'd seen women give it to my aunt often enough. Thankfully, I didn't encounter much male attention -- aside from the gentleman going down the escalator as I was going up -- who almost dropped his iPhone as he was trying to crane a look back at my ass. It made me uncomfortable, but I tried to put it out of my mind. I figured I'd indulge a bit more in this social experiment and I strolled into the Gamestop on the second floor of the mall. I was never much of a video game player, but I knew enough to speak to it. The store was empty of customers, aside from a young kid tooling around near the back of the store. The clerk behind the counter was probably my -- Kevin's -- age. He was short, with a wiry frame, and had thick black glasses and a smattering of facial hair. When he saw me enter into the store he immediately adjusted his posture behind the counter, and tried to casually saunter over. "Welcome to Gamestop," he said in a tone of voice you could tell he didn't use often. "Help you find a game for your son? Nephew?" I kept the smile to myself and decided to play along. I saw that his name tag said he was, "Rodney." "Son," I said, and turned to him. "Twelfth birthday is coming up soon. Want to get him something." "Right on," Rodney said. "Well, if you're interested in opening a Power- Up Membership with us I can totally get you hooked up with a game, and a second one for half off. That'll get you started with points, and if you buy another game later you'll be halfway to getting fifty-percent off another game." I smiled wide, and raised my eyes as if he just told me the easiest way to make a million dollars. "Wow," I said. "That sure sounds like something. I'll think about it." I looked away, but I could tell out of the corner of my eye that he was trying nonchalantly to check me out. I grabbed a used copy of Halo 3 off the shelf and pretended to read the back. Rodney was still hovering. "Stellar game," he said. "I'm sure your son would love it. That'll score big on that membership I was telling you about." I nodded, half listening. This was rather amusing. To "Rodney" I was just a customer with money -- probably a lot of money as far as he was concerned. But, I had to admit, I did admire his tenacity. "His father would kill me if I got him this," I said, and placed the game back in the rack. "Did you want me to help you find anything else?" he asked. "No," I said, and turned back over to him. "But I'll pay for whatever game it was that kid over there just stuck down his shorts." Rodney spun on his heels, and the kid who had been in the corner of the store looked up at us with a stunned look on his face. "I was gonna pay for it," he pleaded. "Please don't call my mom." Chapter 12 Ellen was in tears. "Then he told you to meet him at JJ's?! Oh my god!" She howled with laughter, and wiped at her eyes. I smiled, even though it didn't seem very funny to me. We were sitting in the living room, both having a glass of wine, and I had my sore feet in one of Ellen's foot baths. The warm water felt great between my toes. "I should go down there tonight," she said. "See if I can score his digits for you to use later on." "Don't!" I pleaded, but laughed myself. "That's the last thing I need." I went on to tell her about my experience at the mall and my observations. She got a kick out of the interaction at Gamestop. I told her a bit about some of the other stores I went into and how I thought the interactions went. "I think you're going to do great," Ellen said. "You're going to be a natural in no time. I mean, look at today, no one read you as anything different." I nodded. I know that she meant it as a compliment, but it was a bit of a blow to my male ego -- the fact that I could pass so well as a woman. I wondered what that said about me. I didn't have time to think about it before I heard the chime of a text message on Ellen's phone. I'd set it down on the table next to the recliner I was sitting in. Ellen had planned for me to use her phone while she was gone and that she'd use email if anyone desperately needed her actual attention. I unlocked the screen and saw that it was a text from Miranda: "Drinks Friday night?? I got a sitter!" "Who is it?" Ellen asked, and I told her. "You're definitely going," she said. "This will be perfect. If you can pass in front of her you're going to be safe as houses come the start of the semester." Right, I thought. Safe as houses. "What's wrong?" my aunt asked. I looked up, and gave Ellen a smile. "Nothing," I said. "I just gotta figure out what to wear." ::END OF PART ONE::