Summer at the Beach Part 2
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Summer At The Beach, Part Seven free porn video
It was such a thrill walking to my car with my son at my side. He was so
beautiful in his new sundress. And he knew it. To the casual observer
there was little doubt that this young lady was my daughter. It would
take a closer inspection to show Jim to be a 16 year old boy.
I was amazed and, to tell the truth, a little taken aback, to see Jim
accept his new female role with such blatant enthusiasm. Maybe I hadn't
been such a good mother to Jim in his first 16 years. It had never
occurred to me that my son would harbor such latent desires and needs.
Maybe I should have been more observant and more focused on teaching Jim
manly pursuits when his father ceased to be a factor in his upbringing.
Oh, I saw him settling into a lifestyle which centered on more feminine
interests than on macho male rituals. But secretly I was happy that he
was safe in a less physical and less dangerous world than that of male
bullies and lumbering sports' icons. Now I don't know if I was such a
good mother to a sensitive young man like Jim. I should have known what
was in his pretty head. I never guessed it was corsets and crinolines.
Now that we have embarked on this summer of Jim discovering his female
side, I have come to a rapid understanding that Jim really disliked his
male life. His quick embrace of all the femininity I have placed before
him proves that. Now I have to make sure that his instinctive grasp of
his female side does not run amuck. He is still so young and unused to
reconciling all his desires and feelings and reality. I have to be sure
he understands the reality of his situation and not just center on the
unusual pleasures his experimentation in cross dressing is sending his
way, in a cloud of lingerie and makeup.
So now I have to guide dear young Jim into social situations which will
give him the skill and the grace and the dignity to survive in a new
world for him. A world where he may be humiliated and where he may find
total happiness, or a combination of both. But he has to be prepared for
whatever comes his way and for whatever he decides should come his way.
He has to be able to accept, and to thrive in, his new role as a girl.
Social situation coming up. An interaction with two females, one young
and one older, from outside our little family unit.
"Wendy, darling, I hate to break it to you, but you have get out of that
lovely dress as soon as we get home. Judy and Diane will be coming in
about an hour and a half. We have to be sure the place is clean and then
get ourselves into our swimsuits to go to the beach. Which suit will you
want to wear to the beach?"
"Mother, I think the lavender number will be best for the beach. We may
want to take a little walk along the beach and I think the little skirt
would be adorable for strolling. Besides, I thought the flip flops with
white and lavender flowers I saw in your closet would be a great match in
color. May I wear them?"
"My, my, we will have to get you some more shoes of your own very soon.
Yes, you can wear them. I am sure that in flip flops the size will not
matter that much. And you have the espadrilles to wear later with your
sundress.
"Home at last. Now run along and change into your swimsuit while I tidy
up the place a little. One good thing about having a son like you, we
girls are not messy creatures. Will you need any help getting out of your
bra?"
"I don't think so, Mother. Besides I will have to eventually learn how to
take it off and how to put it on by myself. I hope all the other bras in
my drawer are easier to don. So much to learn!"
Jim ran ahead of me into the house, balancing like a pro on the wedge
heels of the espadrilles. His stiff, white, petticoats flounced as he
went. Cute as a button. Not what a mother would usually see a son do.
This summer would be a learning experience for both of us.
I did not immediately get on with my cleaning. I quietly followed Jim and
stood back outside his open bedroom door where I could see his reflection
in the mirror in the far wall. I don't usually spy on my son but this
time I just had to see how he navigated the female ritual of removing a
stubborn long line bra from his body. I was proud to see him carefully
unzip the back of the sundress and gently raise the garment over his
head, being careful not to muss his "do". Then I blushed to see him
standing there in bra and girdle and several layers of stiff crinoline
petticoats. He did not rush to remove these girlish bits of frou frou.
Instead his hands explored the texture and the structure of the
petticoats, lifting them higher to expose his panties.
He twirled several times in place, and the blur of the petticoats in
action and the sight of his brassiered boyish breasts gave me a chill.
The twirling stopped and he got down to the business of divesting himself
of this set of frippery. The petticoats fell into a glorious heap of
feminine delight around his feet. He stepped out of them, reluctantly,
and gently kicked them aside. Now it came down to the hard part. Removing
this masterpiece of a longline bra. Jim stared into the mirror and took a
deep breath and held it. His limber teenage arms bent backward and his
painted nails shone in the light as they reached to undo the many, many
hooks and eyes, maddeningly placed it seemed by unctuous fairies. He
struggled but kept with it. Eventually each hook and eye came undone. The
bra slipped down his arms and into his hands. He took the released
garment and brought it up to his mouth and kissed each cup, very softly.
There were slight lipstick traces on the cups where he had kissed them.
(What a chore it would be to get the lipstick off those satin orbs.) I
wanted to look away at such an intimate gesture but I could not. I felt
like a voyeur, which is exactly what I was. He took the breast forms out
of the cups and with great pride, tested their heft in each hand. They
found their way into their proper receptacles and took their place of
pride on the top of Jim's dresser.
I carefully backed away and left my son to his privacy. I now knew more
about how this summer should play out. I was ready to do my part in Jim's
odyssey.
I went around the house, cleaning up imagined messes here and there,
thinking about what I had just witnessed. Pleasant thoughts. Those
thought carried with me as I changed into my swimsuit. A black one piece
with a darling black with white polka dotted flirty detachable skirt.
Before I knew what was happening, the door bell rang. I went to answer it
and there stood Judy and Diane, already dressed for the beach and
carrying garment bags with their dresses for later. Air kisses all around
and I took their bags and told them to make themselves at home on the
veranda. After depositing their dresses in the guest bedroom, I returned
to see to some drinks for our guests. Judy was wearing a lime green
halter bikini that molded to her body. Over this she wore a white sheer
linen cover up which did nothing to hide the shape of her bikini top.
Diane was somewhat more demure, as befitted a 15 year old young lady. She
wore a one piece that flattered her budding breasts with cute molded
cups. It was baby pink with white sparkly rhinestones decorating the top
of the bodice and around the deep cut leg holes. It suited (That's a
pun!) her to a "T". Her make up was delicate as also suited a 15 year
old. Her medium length honey blonde hair was in a pony tail held with a
pink scrunchie high at the back of her head. She was delicious to look
at. This would be a lovely friend for Jim. Or for Wendy.
Drinks were gotten, white wine for Judy and I and two Shirley Temples for
Diane and Wendy, if Wendy ever deigned to show up for our beach party.
As we were sipping the first sips of our drinks, Wendy appeared through
the doorway. I should say he made an entrance into our midst. There was
no hesitation, no slow awkward advance to meet three women. He
confidently strode in, wearing the lavender swimsuit with the detachable
skirt waving in the breeze. I had to wonder if there was just a little
more padding in the breast area than was supposed to be there with the
breast inserts. But his figure was quite nice. Properly rounded and
curvy, controlled by the expensive suit. The flippy skirt gave just the
right amount of demureness to his lower body. Though there was no
mistaking that a very nice female bottom was wrapped inside. He had done
something to his hair in the short time we were separated. Then I
realized that he had woven a white daisy from the arrangement in the
hallway into his hair behind his right ear. Such a feminine touch. And I
could say the same thing about the extra mascara which had magically
appeared on his long and full, for a man, lashes. The flip flops from my
closet did, indeed compliment his suit and were perfect for the beach.
His pedicure was properly displayed.
Diane's breath caught in her throat. I distinctly heard her gasp. Her
mother made a hmmmmmm sound as Diane jumped up and ran to embrace Wendy.
Air kisses and oohs and aahs from every one and then we settled in to be
four women and girls on the beach on a beautiful day. There was no
question that Wendy was one of the girls. Nothing was said to dispute
that fact. Judy was all smiles and Diane seemed to be in awe of the boy
across from her, who looked sexier and prettier than she did. But there
was no jealously involved. Diane looked like she had found her long lost
sister.
There was no question about going into the surf. Not to happen. Everyone
was too perfect in their femininity to allow a wave to wash everything
away. The two girls walked ahead of Judy and I, as we strolled about a
mile down the beach. Judy and I watched as Wendy and Diane fell into
holding hands as they giggled about whatever two teenage girls giggle
about. Once we saw Diane put her hand up to Wendy's breast and give a
little feel. Then the giggling started once more in earnest. We did not
see Wendy do the same inspection of Diane's breast. Which was good.
After about a mile in one direction, we turned and headed back to the
house. The heat was a little more than we would have liked. A girl does
not like to sweat, or should I say "perspire", when wearing their best
swimsuits. Now was the time to get back to the house and lay down on the
chaise lounges and catch a few rays and some quick tan lines before
dinner. As Diane rubbed some tanning lotion on Wendy, I could tell that
Wendy really wanted to experience female tan lines. Most girls would
lower their straps to get an even tan, but Wendy was insistent that his
straps stay in place. I think he was envisioning looking in the mirror in
the morning and seeing the distinct brand of a female across his chest
and on his shoulders. I must admit I found the prospect of my son with
the markings of a woman's swimsuit tanned into his skin to be somewhat
disconcerting. But that was what he wanted.
While the two girls baked and browned, Judy and I went into the kitchen
and started to get things ready for dinner. Salads and pasta with cold
shrimp were on the menu. We girls had to watch our figures. But it was
planned to be a rather dressy dinner. Judy and I wanted to give the girls
a chance to experience upper class femininity at home before they were
placed in a social situation that was beyond their limited knowledge of
how a well to do woman functions in polite society. After all there
would be dances and dinners at the country club all summer, and Diane,
and especially Wendy, would have to know how to handle themselves in as
womanly manner as possible at these functions.
When are preparations had advanced as much as possible, we had to break
up Diane's and Wendy's tanning party.
"Girls, time to dress for dinner. Diane can go with her mother and Jim
and I will go to my bedroom and change."
"Oh, Diane, you are going to adore my frock. It is so yummy! Mother and I
had such a good time trying on dresses this morning. I became quite adept
at quick changes in the dressing room. And never once mussed my "Do".
"Come on, girls, let's move along. I am getting quite hungry."
We paired off, though I got the feeling that Jim would have rather gone
with Diane to change into dresses. But that's what a mother is for. To
guide her son in whatever he needs guiding. In this case a little special
guidance.
We reached my bedroom and closed the door.
"Jim, let's get you dressed before I get dressed. I want you to have time
to get comfortable in your dress. Besides maybe you could give your
mother some make up tips. I noticed you have mastered mascara quite
nicely."
Jim blushed.
"Now strip down to your panty and girdle. You know that you have to be
put back into your longline bra for this evening. But I suspect you don't
find that prospect too daunting. I bet you even like it, now that you
have worn it a few times. So arms out! Straps over shoulders. Be prepared
for firm control."
I brought the sides of the bra together at Jim's back and proceeded to
hook the numerous hooks and eyes as Jim seemed to sigh in pleasure at the
sensation. When Jim was securely firmed and packed with his breast forms,
I brought over his petticoats and he stepped into them with a smile on
his lips. The tops of the petticoats fit snugly around his waist.They
billowed out like a ballerina's tutu. I couldn't resist fluffing them up,
just to see if his panties and girdle showed. They did, but I was not
going to tell Jim that fact.
I brought the dress over and raised it over Jim's head. Being careful to
not muss his hair too badly. A trip to the Beauty Salon was definitely in
order for him very shortly. The dress reached the desired location on his
body and after slipping his arms through the arm holes, I had the immense
pleasure of once again zipping my son into a sexy sundress.
Jim slipped the espadrilles on his feet and I directed him to take a seat
at my makeup vanity.
"Jim, since we are having a more formal dinner than a pizza night, I
think I will let my daughter experiment a little more daringly with her
make up tonight. You will have to learn the difference between daytime
make up and evening wear. So let me do your makeup tonight. I think you
and Diane will really like your look."
Jim presented his face, in complete trust to me. I cleansed the make up
she had worn all day from her face. Then with a fresh canvas, I went to
work on my son. A little deeper foundation was in order for the occasion.
As was a rose blush which heightened the curve of his cheeks. I followed
his lead and went heavy on the mascara, plus added a black liner around
the eyes. The light day time shadow was replaced by a darker more smoky
gray look which made his eyes pop. I plucked his brows slightly and
allowed a natural womanly brow to appear and coated it with a dark
pencil. Though it did not match his nails, I went with a deeper, darker
burgundy on his lips, which would stand out strikingly against the white
linen of his dress bodice. I still used Revlon Super Lustrous lipstick.
Plus a sparkly gloss. Magnifique! My little girl was growing up!
Jim stared at his reflection in the mirror. And stared. And stared.
Finally I had to break him out of his trance and got to work on his hair.
When he got his perm, it would be a lot easier. But I worked with the set
from last night and achieved a bob which would have made Doris Day cry
with delight. Then I added a pearl necklace which had been a gift from my
mother years ago. He looked divine in it. Some silver bangles on his
wrists and several squirts of Chanel #5 and Wendy was ready for anything.
I nudged him out of the chair and set about doing up myself. It was kind
of fun. I hadn't had an occasion, other than work, to get dolled up for
months. It was fun watching Jim, watching me, put my make up on. He had
several questions, really good questions, which I was happy to answer for
him.
I got up from the vanity and pulled a simple white silk sheaf from my
closet. With my push up bra and control panties, I slipped it over my
head and let it fall to just above my knees. I wrapped a silver, 2 inch
wide, thick chain belt around my waist, two 5 in wide silver gauntlet
bracelets on my wrists, and white patent 4 inch heels with open toes did
the trick.
"Mom, you are beautiful!"
"Son, so are you!"
Mara
- 22.08.2020
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