First Dates Are Kissing Dates II free porn video

First Dates are Kissing Dates By Frances Penwiddy Copyright © Frances Penwiddy 2016 The publishing rights to First Dates are Kissing Dates are reserved. It may be downloaded for personal use or sharing with a friend provided it is not done so for profit. Reproduction in any way or within any website where a charge is rendered is forbidden without the full written permission of the author. [email protected] 'First Dates are Kissing Dates' contains material of an adult nature and is not suitable as reading material for minors. Websites must clearly indicate that it is X rated. There are some amongst you who will recognise my style but not my name. I previously published on FictionMania under the name of Helen Finch and the story was entitled Vesta's Hearth. Because Vesta's Hearth is published on Amazon Kindle and other E-book sites I was restricted in how much I could publish here. I have another long novel that will also be published on Amazon entitled Footsteps in the Sand and I will also release the first part here if it is called for. First Dates are Kissing Dates is a short story and as such will not be published anywhere but on TV story sites, unless I'm provoked into carrying the story forward in which case I may have to restrict its length, so don't egg me on too much if you find yourself enjoying the tale or you'll find yourselves having to pay a couple of quid to find out how it ends. When I write I try to tell my tales in a manner that will interest everybody including people who have no specific interest in Trans- Gendered subjects. I also do not write sexually specific sections unless it is required to support the story line which inevitably in a love story it does. I mention this because though all my work in this genre is X rated it doesn't mean that hot sweaty bodies rumpling satin sheets do not appear until well into my stories but appear they do. One other thing if I may; I write novels not sex or genetic text books so if you or somebody you know hasn't had the same experiences or good fortune enjoyed by my heroines then make allowances and permit me to hide behind that great excuse, literary licence. I am an optimistic person and this reflects in my writing and I insist on happy endings even if it costs blood to get there. Frances Penwiddy - formerly Helen Finch. First Dates are Kissing Dates John: I've enjoyed our chats and would love to meet you, really like to meet you. Is there any chance you would agree to having dinner with me? Emma: Yes, I like what I have learned about you on this chat site and our tastes in music, art and literature are similar. I would love a meeting but if I do agree to a date, I would ask you to respect a rule I never break. Fist dates are kissing dates, nothing more, no nakedness, no physical sex other than kissing and caressing. I'm not being prudish, I just like to meet and get to know a man before I go to bed with him. John: I understand that but would that mean that having met and found you still liked me, you would consider taking things a little beyond kissing on a subsequent date? Emma: Yes, but I consider sexual relations with a man as an extension to a relationship rather than the object of it. As I explained when we had our first chat, I am transsexual because that is who I am, a female. I dress as one because I need to express myself, not because I want the first man I meet to take me to bed or fantasise about his doing so. I need more that sperm in my life, I'm old fashioned, and I need companionship and romance, that's why I never date married men because I suspect that in most cases, they simply want intercourse because sex with their wives is unsatisfactory or their marriage is breaking up and I would never like to be thought of as the catalyst in the break-up of a relationship. John: Your meeting protocols match your choice of clothing, you really are a Fifties girl, well that is the impression I have from our chats. Emma: I think you may be right, I need to be wooed by a man before I invite him into my body and I need to know that once he's made love to me physically, he won't just roll over and go to sleep or get dressed and go home. John: You make it sound more exciting oddly enough. I like the idea of treating a girl as a girl and not a prostitute. Having to compete for her love, making her feel like the best thing in my life, yes I like the idea, it's a sort of challenge; can I make you fall in love with me enough to lay beside me in a bed, kiss me, allow me to caress you and hold you close to me until we both know it's the right time for us to seal our relationship. I want us to meet, I think I am already in love just from the one picture you sent me and the things we have talked about on-line? Emma: Yes, let's meet on neutral territory for the first date but where? John: Somewhere where we can have a quiet conversation and get to know each other. I have a place in mind so if it's okay, I'll pick you up in a taxi. Where should I meet you?" Emma: Do you know the war memorial outside the old town hall? John: Yes. What time? Emma: Seven, would be nice, the day after tomorrow and it will take me seven or eight minutes to walk there, so will you message me when you're ten minutes away? John: I'll do that, will you leave the choice of restaurant to me. The one I have in mind is about ten or fifteen minutes from where we're meeting. It's in the centre of town so I won't make you nervous by taking you out into the country to a lonely roadhouse. Emma: That's considerate. Is it somewhere where I will need to dress up? John: No, dress however you wish, formal or smart casual but as a favour to me might I ask you to make it as close to your Fifties look as you can. Emma: Okay, are you coming as a Teddy Boy? John: Lol. No, just a suit, I haven't got the courage to wear a scarlet draped jacket with a black velvet collar and certainly not a DA haircut. I'll see you at seven the evening after next. Bye for now, I'll be playing 'Dreamboats and Petticoats' before I go to bed." I left the chat room and sat thinking, my fingers tapping gently on the desk. We had been chatting for some weeks and I seemed to have found a nice man at last, or was he too good to be true? We were meeting on neutral ground and were going to a restaurant in town so there was little risk attached but I reached for the telephone and dialled Samantha's number, gave her the details and took note of her advice to copy his rendezvous message to her so she could retrieve the phone number and advised me to reject any messages I received that didn't show the number. 2 I stood in front of the mirror and looked closely at myself starting at the hair, light brown with soft curls and a fringe that ended a half inch above my brows, soft eye makeup in soft grey and light blue to accent my eyes and an eyeliner and mascara to give them a slight almond shape. My foundation and powder were just right and the blusher applied just heavily enough to accent my cheekbones. I pursed my lips and then relaxed them, a soft red with a darker line tracing their shape, the face that looked back at me was pretty but with just a touch of allure a hint of the excitement that might be available one day. Jewellery was minimal short dangling earrings, gold with cultured pearls as the centrepiece, a gold chain with a small locket that just reached the top of my cleavage and on my hands, two discreet jewelled rings and an antique gold band with small sapphires set in a row and finally a single gold bangle on one wrist and my watch on the other. I had an ivory silk blouse above a black skirt and wide black leather belt. The skirt hung an inch below the knee and was very full and beneath that a two tier tulle petticoat without the usual stiffer net covering, it looked like a skirt from the Fifties a skirt that betrayed its fullness but not too obviously, a rock and roll girl not a bobby soxer with a poodle skirt. And to prove that I was not going to send the skirt horizontal when I spun, I was wearing a pair of three inch leather heels and tan stockings to slow me down. The sexiest bit of me was under the skirt and blouse, a white lace basque and matching panties but first dates were kissing dates and he wasn't going to see them unless I fell down a flight of stairs. My cell phone started playing The Ride of the Valkyries, my tune for messages that were important. It was John, 'Cabby says ten mins.' I sent back 'K' and added his phone number to my friends list and then sent it on to Samantha. I took one last look in the mirror, teased my hair, fluffed up the skirt and slid my coat over my shoulders, picked up my shoulder bag and left. As I turned the corner and walked towards the old town hall a taxi drove round the war memorial and pulled into the kerb. A man got out of the rear, bent to speak to the driver, turned and began to cross the road and as he turned I recognised the profile. "John, why are you running away from me?" He turned and looked at me with the puzzled look of non-recognition then his face broke into a smile. "Emma?" "Were you expecting somebody else?" He trotted back to the pavement and started walking towards me. "Nobody else, who'd want anybody else," and he stopped and watched me as I walked towards him, you're quite a stunner. Ditch that picture in the chat room and get a portrait done by a pro and use that." "Thank you but I haven't done that because I thought I might attract the wrong sort of admirer. In fact I ought to change my gender, it still says Male on my profile and in a couple of weeks I will be having my operation and will be all girl like my bust says." "Are they're real," he coughed. "Sorry that was personal." "That's okay. I would have been offended two or three years ago but not now. Yes they're real, completely real. Hormones and not a hint of surgical enhancement." He stared unabashed at the front of my blouse we had reached the taxi and he opened the door for me and then sat beside me and as I started searching for the lower part of the seatbelt he slid his hand down, found it and handed it to me and our hands touched and I felt the hairs on the back of his hands tickle my underarm and a tiny thrill ran through me. I did up the belt and sat back and watched him fiddle with his, he was still looking at the front of my blouse; "36C I whispered and the basq...er bra is not padded, you can have a feel if you like?" "I'd love to but first dates are kissing dates." In that case, pay attention to what you're doing, you're going to stab yourself in a delicate place with the seatbelt buckle if you're not careful." He grinned. "Not on a first date." "You ready to proceed as planned, Guv?" asked a voice from the front of the cab. "Yes please, L 'Hirondelle." "French," I said unnecessarily. "I love French cooking." "I know, you told me so when we had our first chat." "I chatter too much." "No you don't, you were answering my questions. "You also like Elvis Pressley, The Supremes, Roberta Flack, Matt Monro and Schumann, Beethoven, Sibelius, Purcell, Verdi and Puccini." "You've forgotten Delibes, Delius, Elgar, Saint-Saens, Borodin, Khachaturian, The Platters and Doris Day." "No I haven't," and he reached down and pulled a briefcase from under the seat, opened it and gave a flat packet to me tied with pink ribbon and when I took the wrapper off there was a 12" vinyl record of Samson and Delilah. "Oh John, thank you so much and I placed my hand over his shoulder and fought the seat belt until I could kiss him. When I let go, my kiss-proof lipstick hadn't lived up to its name so I started searching through my shoulder bag until he stopped me and pulled out his own. "Use mine, I want an imprint of your lips on my handkerchief." So I did what he asked and opened my lips slightly, slipped a section of the hankie between my lips and pressed down. "There you are, almost perfect but it will wash out." "Not a chance I'm going to frame it and hang it on my wall." I smiled and went searching in my shoulder bag again, found my lipstick and compact and replaced the lipstick that John was now wearing and turned the mirror around. "The colour simply doesn't suit you." He looked, pursed his lips and nodded. "It doesn't..." "There's a box of tissues on the rear window ledge," the cabby said. "You can help yourself if the lady promises to kiss me as well." "I can't, it means I'll have to do mine again and I'll run out of lipstick before the evenings over." "You won't need it when I pick you up again, will you." I grinned and turned to John. "Did you book him to bring us back?" "Yes, finding a cab this late is almost impossible and I use George all the time when he's available." "You're a useful man to know." The cab pulled into the kerb. "Here we are, enjoy your meal. What time do you want picking up?" John looked at me and I shrugged. "Two maybe three hours if we're enjoying ourselves." "I'll send a text message, George." "Okay, make it about a half hour before you need me." I had a really good time with John, he was a humorous conversationalist and an excellent listener which was a good sign, most men like to hog the conversation but he let me chatter on and I could tell he was really listening to me, showing an interest in what I was saying. He asked me about my job, about my social life and my friends and finally about my transsexualism. "When did you first realise you were transsexual?" "I don't think 'realise' is the right word but even when I was young, about six years old I preferred staying with the girls when we playing at school, I liked hopscotch a lot and I do recall thinking how much nicer their clothes were; pretty, softer materials, things like that but it never occurred to me that there was something different about my sexuality, at that age I didn't even know what sexuality meant but when I was nine I began to realise that there was something more than just liking the games and clothes and found myself wishing I had been born a girl rather than a boy and then at eleven, when I should have been showing signs of puberty, nothing happened, my voice didn't change, my preference for things female became more intense and then one day I asked my mother why boys clothes were so different to girls, why they wore brighter, prettier, softer materials. Dad was out at work so we sat at the kitchen table and she asked me a lot of questions and listened to my answers but didn't make any comments and the next day she kept me off school and we went shopping and she bought a girls summer dress and a pair of knickers, not the really fancy ones, fairly plain but definitely girls knickers, then knee high white socks and a pair of yellow flat heeled shoes I didn't say anything to her, I thought she was buying them for somebody she knew, a cousin or neighbours daughter. When we got home she took me up to her bedroom and told me to take my clothes off which I did, I was never shy with mum but I was with dad. When I had stripped she told me to put the knickers on and held the dress ready. I put them on still not saying anything, not arguing with her, not saying they were sissy, and I still didn't object when she slipped the dress over my head, buttoned it up and then made me sit at her dressing table and she brushed my hair and arranged it differently, it was still fairly short but she managed to feminise it a little and then she put the socks and shoes on and me made stand in front of the mirror. "You asked me yesterday why girls wore different clothes to boys, how do you feel now?" I remember I run my hands down the dress and did a slow spin and looked in the mirror again, at mother's reflection. "They feel nicer, not so rough and the dress is pretty. I wish I had been born a girl." She didn't say anything except. "Take the dress off and hang it in my wardrobe and put the panties in the top drawer of the dressing table and get dressed in your school uniform, dad will be home soon." "Will he be angry if he sees me like this?" "No, just a bit shocked. Now hurry up and come down to the kitchen and help me get tea ready." Nothing was said but I remember they stayed up late and were in the sitting room and talking most of the time and I went to sleep wondering if there was something wrong even though they had spoken quietly and didn't seem to be arguing. Four days later, Mom took me to the doctor; she made the excuse that I felt hot and she thought I might have a temperature. The only thing that wasn't normal was the timing of my appointment, it was after the normal surgery hours. Mum went in first to speak with the doctor and then they came out and the doctor felt my forehead and just said "Yes, we need to look at you," so I followed him into the consulting room and he made me strip and lay on the inspection bed and he went all over me pushing prodding squeezing and looking at my privates, checked my blood pressure asked me a lot of questions, took some measurements and nodded. "I'll give you a prescription for some pills for the high temperature but I think I need you to see a specialist. There's nothing seriously wrong I'm certain but at your age unexplained headaches and higher than normal temperatures need to be checked." "And that's when you realised?" "No, I didn't have any suspicions at all though I had noticed that I was spending more time with the girls at school but nobody said much, they just thought I wasn't interested in kicking a tennis ball about in the playground and just wanted to chat. It was when I went to see the specialist. I was old enough to realise that the medical he gave me and the urine and blood samples and the questions he asked weren't normal for somebody who just had a headache sometimes or a slight fever. Then mum and dad came in and that's when he told me he was of the opinion that I was transsexual and then spent a half hour explaining exactly what that meant and as he talked I kept looking at mum and dad but they just smiled at me. When he finished he told me I should continue school until the end of term and then he wanted to see me again." "So how did you cope with it, learning that you were different to the others at school?" "It's odd but I didn't think much of it at the time except perhaps a feeling of relief, relief that I wasn't unusual and that wishing I had been born a girl wasn't something to be terrified about. When we got home mum and dad took me into the sitting room and whilst mum went to make a cup of tea, dad had a chat with me, he asked me how I felt about what the specialist had said. "I don't know really, a little bit surprised and I'm relieved it's nothing serious." He chuckled when I said that. "Nothing serious, what would you consider serious?" "Well if I had leukaemia or cancer or I had a disease that would mean me having to stay in bed or a wheelchair all the time." He nodded when I said that. "You're right, most people don't suddenly die in pain when they discover they are transsexual but what do you want to do about it?" I looked at him and hesitated, how would he react if I told him I wanted to be a girl? Would he go mad and end up hating me? "Tell the truth, Ryan, it's important that your mother and I know what you feel, how you want to live. If we're left to guess, we may get it wrong and that would have disastrous results, so tell me the truth." "But how do you and mum feel about it, what would you like?" Be brushed aside the question with a wave of his hand. "What your mother and I would prefer at this stage is unimportant, it's what you want that has priority. We can discuss us after you have made up your mind. What I can say without prejudicing your choices is that whatever you decide, provided it is supported by the doctors, is okay with us. We won't throw you out of the house if we don't like your choice, we'll still be a family because we will all need each other to sort things out." I closed my eyes and thought about it, for some reason I didn't want to tell dad, I thought he might be disappointed in me, think I was just a sissy boy, be sad perhaps angry but I made up my mind, I had to tell him the truth, he was right, our family life would be difficult if I didn't. It was going to be bad enough if I did tell the truth but if I didn't it would lead to friction and that would mean mum and dad arguing and even getting a divorce and putting an end to our family and that would be the worst thing of all. I opened my eyes and looked at his face which was soft, there was no disappointment showing, no hatred so quietly I said. "I would rather be a girl. Since I was five or six years old I have often wished I had been born a girl but I know it now. It isn't just about the pretty clothes, Dad, there are lots of reasons I think I'm really a girl. I'm not all that keen on football or rugby, climbing trees and things like that, at school I preferred being with the girls. I like playing hopscotch, turning cart wheels and in PT, I love the swimming and gymnastics because they seem to have more moves that are graceful, a sort of beauty to them. If I was to go to a fancy dress party, I would rather be a Christmas fairy than superman and I do like the soft materials and pretty colours that girls can wear when they want to. But I also like it when you take me to a cricket match and if it's one you're playing in, I get really mad when you're out, I want to run onto the field and slap the player that caught the ball or the bowler who knocked your wicket down, that's not girly though is it?" "Yes it is, your mother is the same when we're coming back from a match, she sits in the car and goes on and on about it being a no-ball or the fielder was just lucky." "I know, I listen to her and she's right most of the time." He chuckled. "What about fishing?" "Oh I still want to do that, I like fishing as long as you continue putting the maggot on the hook." "What about your name, we can hardly keep calling you Ryan?" "Emma," I said immediately. "I like Emma because it's a name that can't be changed into a boy's name. If I called myself Charlotte, people would shorten it to Charlie, if I picked Frances it would become Frankie but there's no boy equivalent that I can think of for Emma, Andrea would be Andy, no, definitely Emma." Dad had stood up and held out his hand. "Come on, we'd better introduce Emma to her mother." "But mum knew about me a couple of weeks ago, she bought me a dress." "I know but that was just her way of testing her theory about you." "You mean she knew about me?" "We both did and we've had suspicions for two or three years, we just didn't know how to speak to you about it but you're voice hasn't broken yet and you've not shown any of the other symptoms of a boy entering puberty so we had to do something so she bought you the dress to see how you would react. And your reaction spurred us into taking you to the doctor." "I still like it," I grinned. "And the panties." "Well you can go upstairs and put them on after we've seen your mother." I had been looking down at the table as I told John the story, occasionally eating something and then his hand appeared holding a handkerchief. "You're crying, tell me the rest later, and eat, it's a restaurant." I looked up and smiled. "I did warn you I was a chatterbox," and I dabbed at my eyes. "A compelling story though, I would like to hear more but not tonight, tell me on our next date." I gave him back his handkerchief. "I took care not to wash away the lipstick kiss." He folded it carefully and we concentrated on our food and when we had finished eating he began to ask me another question. "No," I said, It's my turn to ask you questions, so tell me about your job, your engineering planning, working with production lines, things like that. He did and told it well, made it sound interesting and at times challenging and he took care not to get too technical and I found myself visualising him in a helmet and hi-vi over a white lab coat or up to his knees in hydraulic oil and there were times when he was talking about machinery he particularly liked he made it sound quite dreamy and when he spoke about computer controlled production lines, it was almost as good as an episode from Star Trek. "You travel a lot?" "A couple of days at the office perhaps one or two on site and when I can, the rest of the week at home." "There's only one day left after you spend time at the office or on site?" He nodded. "I work seven days a week on occasions, even eight or nine at very busy times." I smiled. "Doesn't leave you much time for leisure activities." "Sssh," he whispered. "You never know who is listening and I wangle it by working twelve or more hours a day for three days, then a few hours work at home and have the rest of the week off." "Why don't you work twelve hours a day without lunch times or coffee breaks for a week and then take the rest of the month off." "I have never considered that," he nodded. "Yes it has possibilities, I could even increase the daily hours to sixteen, give up food altogether, other than high energy snack bars and drinks. If I did that for three months I could take the rest of the year off." "That would mean you could sleep in a coffin in a pretty grave yard in the country and have a nice rest. If you want to take up healthy leisure activities you could book in at a hospital and have a week of ECGs and scans." He shook his head. "Not that, I don't like hospital food." He picked up the wine and began to top up my glass. "No, I can't drink anymore I've had nearly three, I'll start having fits of giggles if I drink more." "I'll just top you up then, we'll compromise on a half glass." I didn't protest, I could leave it if I did start the giggles but I did want the evening to continue. He was an interesting man, a very good dining companion and I did wonder for a moment what sort of lover he would be. I stifled that thought immediately, I had had three glasses of wine, well three and a half if I counted the top-up and thinking along those lines would mean my golden rule about first dates could be broken. We spent the next hour talking about mutual interests, music, the theatre, restaurants and our jobs and then I started to feel a bit dizzy and when I took my bag and went to the loo I had to concentrate on walking steadily and after I had washed my hands, concentrate even more on touching up my makeup. "You look rather serious, you even frowned once when you were walking back." I managed to sit down without tipping my seat over and nodded, it was that last drop of wine, and it has affected my walking and is my makeup okay?" "You look as fresh as you did when we met earlier." I felt a giggle coming on but managed to control it enough to stop myself from inviting him to squeeze me somewhere to make sure I was really fresh. "I did warn you I get giggly." "I've already texted George, he'll be here in ten minutes and I've settled the bill, I assumed you were ready to go home." I nodded slowly. "Yes, I think I've reached my limit and a little bit more." I reached across the table and took his hand. "I've enjoyed this evening, thank you." "No, it was you that made it so nice. Emma, I would like to repeat it, take you out again." "Yes, there's still lots to talk about but not until after the weekend, I have a job to complete for a customer and there's my hospital business coming up soon so I have to make sure no work is left undone." "Would Wednesday suit you, a film and then supper perhaps?" "Okay and if your work gets in the way, we can make it Thursday or Friday." We left the restaurant and my walking required less concentration because I had my arm securely tucked under John's. Once we were settled in George's taxi he asked. "Where would you like me to drop you, I don't want you walking too far on your own?" I felt confident enough of him so I asked. "Would you drop me off at my place, its twelve Heath Terrace, just round the corner from the war memorial." He relayed the destination to George and when we got out of the cab he asked George. "Will you wait George, I won't be long," but before we left the cab I went to the driver's window. "George," he looked up at me and I leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the lips and stood back. "You were right, I shan't need the lipstick, if you like the colour, let me know and I'll get you a tube," and I returned to John who walked me up to the steps of my flat and looked up at the house. "Do you live in the top flat, if so I'll escort you up the stairs?" "Thank you but my place is the ground floor and I'm okay," I did a slow spin and my skirt flared but I kept my feet and managed to keep my skirt down to mid-thigh, though I must admit I was tempted to speed it up a little and reveal a stocking top. See, a perfect landing," I boasted as I finished my display. "Would you like to come in for a nightcap or coffee?" "I'd love nothing more but I will decline, if I come in with you I might say or do something inappropriate and spoil a perfect evening." He had his arms around my waist now so I reached up and placed mine around his neck. "Kiss me goodnight then, that's allowed on first dates." He pulled me in closer until I was pressed against his chest and kissed me tenderly and I pushed myself in closer and after a while we ended the kiss and he smiled. "That is as far as I go, you are a little tipsy and if I kiss you again I would have difficulty in preventing myself from sending George away and coming in for the coffee." "And I would have difficulty in preventing myself from inviting you to stay for the night and it isn't the wine I've drunk. Thank you again, it's been a lovely evening, perfect and when you go to bed, dream about me and I'll dream about you and perhaps we can meet again in our dreams." I eased myself away from him and opened my bag and dug my keys out. "When you get inside, come to the window and wave, then I'll know you're okay." I nodded and let myself in and did as he asked and watched as he smiled and walked down the steps, stopping at the cab to wave before climbing in. 3 I made myself a coffee, sat at the kitchen table and went over the evening in my mind. I had enjoyed our date and I also knew that if John had come in, we would be undressing each other by now and I sighed, I must change my 'Golden Rule' about first dates when I was with a man like John and as for the rule for second dates, 'heavy petting, no further' we'd have to wait and see if that needed modifying. I had to make an early start if I was to get all my work completed before I went into hospital and I would like to see John a few times within the fortnight before that so with a great deal of reluctance, I pulled myself away from my rapidly becoming erotic daydream, went into my office and switched the computer on, I had promised to let Samantha know I had got back home safe and sound. The messenger icon started flashing immediately, it was her. "Hi, you're late, how did it go? Message, phone or send somebody round to let me know you're okay and had a good time before I phone the police and have a fingertip search made." I smiled, Samantha was the phycologist who ran my support group and took the job very seriously. She was a genetic girl who probably knew more about the weaknesses and in some cases the randy lusts of transsexuals than she did of her own sex. "I'm home in a sad, sad mood. I had a lovely evening." She must have been sitting beside her computer because a reply came back almost immediately. "You're the only person I know who can make two sentences into one oxymoron - why sad?" "I wanted him to help me get undressed for bed." "But he didn't? "No but I hinted I was willing to break my Golden Rule." "So why didn't he take up your offer, a man would have to be mad to refuse to go to bed with you. Is he gay, misogynistic or 8 years old?" "He was a gentleman and when I asked him in for a nightcap he refused on the grounds that if he came in he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off me. And as I had a little too much wine he would be taking an ungentlemanly advantage of me." "You're kidding!" "No. It was a beautiful evening. We both enjoyed ourselves but I admit to having three and a half glasses of wine and was a tadge merry and when he kissed me on the doorstep and I asked him in, he did say no because he thought he might not be able to control himself and would say or do something that would spoil the evening. He did ask me for another date though, next Wednesday. "Whew! Marry him, marry him on Wednesday, you'll never find another like him. Does he have a good job that would enable him to keep you in champagne and diamonds?" "He's a consultant engineer, self-employed and up to his neck in work, so yes, I think he could but I don't do so badly myself and don't really need a rich husband. He's just a lovely man." "You at home tomorrow?" "Yes." "I'll be round at about eleven for coffee to hear the full story. Pleasant dreams." "I'm wearing my little white baby-doll in case he breaks in later, good night" I switched off, undressed and went to bed with a broad grin on my face, knowing Samantha as well as I did meant that her promise to be round for coffee would probably include lunch and dinner as well. I was sitting at my desk by seven the next morning and wasn't interrupted until eleven fifteen when Samantha rang the doorbell. "Hi, sorry I'm a bit late but I overslept." She didn't wait for a reply but walked in and went straight into my flat and then the kitchen and switched the percolator on and handed me a small carton. "Chocolate muffins." "Thank you, do you want to have coffee here or in the sitting room?" "Here, I'm inpatient, now tell me what happened." "I told you last night." "You gave a brief summary, not the full story." "Let me get the coffee first." "Don't wait for that to start bubbling, start now, from the beginning, what were you wearing your little black dress or the red one." The percolator started issuing its Columbian finest so I started laying out the cups. "Neither, I wore my black skirt, the full circular one and a tulle petticoat." "You were going dancing?" "No but those skirts also qualify as smart casual, summer evening wear or leg flashers in a jive or Latin American." She grinned. "I know I've seen you dancing in them. Go on what sort of top and did you go braless, you can with a figure like yours." "No, I'm not a tart, I wore a basque." "And stockings, I bet." I grinned. "Yes, tan stockings not the black, seamed nylons." "So you were planning to sleep with him from the start." "No, you know my rule about first dates." "Liar and you've not had a date for months, you were as randy as hell." "I was no such thing, I just wanted to feel sexy underneath and had no intention of flashing my stocking tops." "Yeah, yeah, bla-bla-bla, I've been there and done that and I know what I really want when I just need to feel sexy underneath." I poured the coffees and sat down. "Well I can't be sure what my subconscious was doing but I did wear my heels, the black ones so it was obvious I wasn't going to do any fast spinning." "You can spin in heels, I know girls who say they dance better in heels." "I can't, well I don't think I can, I've never tried," and then I remembered the little twirl I had done at the top of the steps. "I'll try it one day but I think I'll wait until after my operation." "Go on then what did he say or do when he first saw you?" I grinned. "He asked me if my tits were real? "He did what!" "Asked me if my tits were real." "Did you slap his face, I would have done and then gone straight home." "I'm not violent like you, I just unbuttoned my blouse, slipped it and the basque off my shoulders and shook my torso so the tits wobbled a bit." She nearly choked on her coffee. "You showed him!" "It was the best way to prove it. Then I told him he could have a feel and tickle my nipples just in case he thought they were gel implants." She put her cup down so forcibly it was a wonder it didn't shatter. "In the street!" "Of course, if I'd done it in the cab the driver might have seen them in the rear view mirror and I'm a bit shy about things like that." "What about the people in the street?" "I forgot about them but there weren't many people about, I don't know, I didn't notice anybody staring, I was busy watching him to see if he liked them, my tits I mean not the other people." "Did he?" "I think so, he sort of leaned forward to take a closer look and his mouth opened a little and I thought for a moment he was going to suck or kiss the nipples and it made me tremble at the knees so I buttoned my blouse up and we got into the cab." She dropped her head and shook it. "I just don't believe this. You meet a bloke for the first time and before a few minutes have elapsed you've invited him to grope your tits and wanted him to kiss them." "It's just as well you don't believe me because it's all lies." She looked up at me and grinned. "And I fell for it, after all the years I've been helping trannies and got to know what they will say or do, the tricks they can play, you come out with a story like this and I believed you, I'm losing my touch. Now go on and tell me what really happened." So I did but she kept asking questions and then opened her briefcase, took out a notebook and started jotting things down. "Why are you making notes, not going to post this on Facebook are you?" She shook her head. "No; I'd like to, it would get a million hits in the first week but I'd lose my job. The notes will be handy when I write my Social Services article about the group and what my job entails, no names, just a factual report aimed at the media mainly and society generally to prove that trannies aren't the threat to society that a lot of people believe. How did he respond when you told him you were going into hospital for your sex reassignment surgery in a couple of weeks?" "He asked me how dangerous it was, would it make me very ill and how long I would be in hospital and asked if it would be okay for him to visit me." "He didn't ask how long it would take for you to be ready for sex, full penetration I mean." "No. He did ask how long it would be for me to make a full recovery and when I told him that provided I had no complications or infections, anything from two to six months, then asked me if I would like to go away for a rest, rent a cottage in the country or perhaps go somewhere overseas, somewhere where the weather would be warm and sunny. A place where I had nothing to worry about and have a lot of time to relax and give myself time to recover completely I said I wouldn't know until after the operation. I explained that I might be nervous about being too far from the hospital in case there were complications. Then he told me to tell him if I did want to go away so he would arrange something and if for any reason he couldn't accompany me, he would find a qualified nurse to look after me full time until he could join me." "He's in love with you, Emma, in love with you big time." "I did think that might be the case but I dismissed it because I can't believe somebody would fall in love to that extent after only one meeting." "But you said you talked a lot yesterday evening, told each other a great deal about yourselves." I nodded. "Yes but we talked about other things as well, ordinary things." "When you chatted on-line, how long were the sessions and how personal the conversations?" "Quite long sometimes, two hours perhaps longer but on occasions the chats were quite short, those were days when one or the other of us had urgent work that needed our attention. We did leave messages about what was happening in our lives if we couldn't chat and there was always a good morning or goodnight message from him in my mailbox." "And the topics?" "Varied; sometimes it was music or books we were reading, other times but not often, a little about work, we even discussed the news and politics occasionally but typically they were about something we both liked, even a bit of sport and on one occasion fashion; I told him I had bought a couple of miniskirts and he asked me to send him a picture he wanted to see my legs and when I did send them he told me it showed I had an adventurous side as well as nice legs." Samantha smiled at that. "Short were they. Did he ever ask for nude pictures or close-ups of specific parts of your anatomy?" "Never. No wait, he did ask me to take a close-up of my face, a portrait. That was a week ago but I didn't have the time to do one before we met." "And you've told me he never asked you away to a hotel for the night or invite you to his place." "That's right, the only time we discussed sex seriously was last night and I've told you about that." "He sounds like a good one, Emma. He certainly doesn't sound like a one-night-stand merchant or the casual sex from time to time type. He is definitely interested in you, even in love perhaps. It does happen like that to some people, a casual encounter leading to something permanent and beautiful. I must read your chat sessions and try to get some tips about your prose and conversation style," she grinned. "It probably has something to do with the fishing trips your father took you on, you learned how to reel them in." "Want me to catch one for you?" "No, my fianc? wouldn't approve." She stood. "Shall I pour us more coffee and then I must be away to write a long report on another group member. She's like you, has plenty of jokes and leg-pulls tucked down her bra, she asked me to get her a prescription for estrogen and testosterone last week and when I asked why both because it was counterproductive she answered with. "Well I definitely want a sex change but I haven't made up my mind yet which sex to change to." "That sounds like Annie." "It is and I started calling her Connie and when she got fed up with correcting me, I told her it was an abbreviation of confused." Samantha went off to write her report immediately after lunch and I went back to my computer and drawing board and apart from spending an hour chatting with John, I worked non-stop on my web designs for a soft furnishings manufacturer. 4 By the following Wednesday lunchtime I had the web design finished and the whole afternoon to get ready for my date. I had a long bath, and spent an hour on my hair still pondering on how to play the date, should I stop at heavy petting or go on, I still couldn't make a decision so I pushed it aside telling myself to let the events of the evening take their natural course and then started on my makeup. As soon as I sat at the dressing table, the debate on the likely events of the evening were taken over by my subconscious mind and I went for a sultry look with dark eyeshadow and deep red lipstick and without even being fully aware of what I was doing, I had selected my black basque and lacy bikini, almost a thong, knickers and seamed black nylons and a scoop necked red dress with a straight skirt and black patent stilettoes. When I stood in front of the mirror I realised that if I was undecided my subconscious wasn't, the clothes clearly stated how the evening was to go and Miss subconscious was determined to have me sexually penetrated as Samantha had put it, the only problem I had was the dress which was a wool and silk mix was tending to snag a little, it wasn't comfortable covering the basque and the suspender bumps were a little too obvious. I returned to my lingerie drawer and took out a black silk slip and rather than take the dress off I unzipped it down to the belt, wriggle out of the shoulders and then ease the black lace slip over my hair and tucked it into the waist of the dress and stooped down to lift the skirt and pull the hem of the slip down before straightening up and putting the top half of the dress back into place and zipping it up. It was just as well I went to aerobic and gymnastic classes every week and I was able to bend, stoop, stretch and wriggle enough to complete the mission. The slip took longer to put on than it did to get the seams straight on the stockings but when I checked in the mirror, I was perfect and the silk of my slip enabled the dress to move enough to make it look as if it was taunting somebody to take it off and that somebody was going to be here very soon and I had just enough time to get my jewellery on, in fact I was still trying to get the second earring in when the doorbell rang and checking to make sure it was John, I buzzed the street door and heard it open and John's footsteps approach my flat door. There was a quiet knock and I was still fiddling with the earring with one hand as I opened the door with the other and stepped back, won the battle with the earring and said. "Sorry, I'm running a bit late." He stood silently for a few seconds and then said. "Looking like you do, you can have all the time you want, I can refuse you nothing and he held out a large bouquet of red roses framed by olive green feathery ferns. "Oh, John, they're beautiful!" "The red is a perfect match for your lips. We have time, would you like to put them in water?" Hugging the flowers I walked through the sitting room to the kitchen and he helped me to crush the stems and place them into the largest vase I had and then I carried them into the sitting room and placed them on a marble coffee table in the centre and I stood back. "They really are lovely, thank you and I kissed him lightly and managed to keep my lipstick on me and not him or the dazzling white shirt he was wearing under a dark grey, definitely Saville Row suit. He took my hands in his and stepped back and looked at me slowly letting his eyes travel from my shoes up to my hair. "Beautiful, no more than beautiful; exciting, a goddess pretending to be mortal, Aphrodite." I bobbed a small curtsy. "I love your way of delivering a compliment because I realise you are a man who would only speak the truth so you must be my Adonis. Would you like a drink before we go out?" He chuckled and bowed his head a little to acknowledge my curtsy. "A very small Scotch and soda and I will be content to just stand here all night admiring you." "Show him our bedroom," whispered my subconscious but I ignored her and went to the sideboard and poured his scotch and a third of a glass of white wine for myself. "Sit down, John," I invited, nodding at the smaller of my settees. "That's the way, comfortably close and near enough for him to throw himself on you," said Miss Subconscious but I continued to ignore her and sat in the opposite corner with perhaps two feet between us. "Where are we going?" "There's three films in town, Love story, Star Trek or the Perils of Pauline," he answered with a twinkle in his eyes. "I'll leave the choice to you," I replied with a challenging smile. "Or we can walk along the river to the Horse and Barge, sit there for a half hour and make our selection or would you prefer going out to dinner." "Supper would be better after the film." "We'll do all four, walk along the river, pop into the pub, choose a film and I have salad and a lobster in the fridge and it will only take ten minutes to serve it up with so we can have supper here." "Brilliant," said Miss SC "That sounds delightful, yes, we'll do that." "You don't have George waiting outside do you?" "No, he went off but I can probably get him back?" "No, it's only a short walk and I don't trust him with my lipstick." John laughed. "He'd love the colour you're wearing now and it might be an idea to bring a light coat or jacket, it will be a little chilly later." I finished my wine and stood up. "I'll get my coat and bag, would you like to borrow one of my scarves, I have a woollen one that's fairly androgynous and a woolly hat to match but that has a fluffy bobble?" He laughed and shook his head as he stood. "I'll risk it how I am and if I feel cold when we walk back you can cuddle me." I came back with the coat over my arm and he took it and slipped it over my shoulder and we linked arms and started off towards the river. "You're flat is beautifully designed, comfortable but still elegant, a clever mixture of old and new, did you design it or use a professional?" "I had a painter come in and redecorate the walls and I just picked the colours and spent a week thinking about the soft furnishings but the rest was just piecemeal, not planned at all. I love browsing in antique shops and most of my pieces were just things I liked when I saw them and I put it together a little at a time. A mixture of pieces that looked nice and others that were functional but blended with everything else. The Queen Anne dresser is my favourite and the dining set which you haven't seen is second and I usually have them in mind when I buy other pieces which are usually irresistible bargains I spotted in shops and even car boot sales. It's a good way of doing the job because if something is damaged it can be replaced easily without upsetting the overall look. The curtains and carpets I bought at a discount from one of my customers, a soft furnishings group who let me have them at cost, it's a way of enjoying a luxury lifestyle at knock down prices. Sometimes I think about starting another business and troll the antique shops and car boots buying stuff, cleaning it up and taking pictures of room settings with the furniture included to show what can be done. I do have a couple of web pages already made up and I think it would work." We turned onto the river bank. "Why don't you do it?" "I like what I do now, designing web sites and it keeps me very busy but one day perhaps - we'll see." "I've never walked along this section of the river before, it's very pleasant, very peaceful for somewhere so close to the town centre." "I come here a lot, it's lovely and almost next door to where I live." We walked past a row of large cottage styled bungalows and came to the pub and went in. We nearly missed the film, I had seen Love Story twice before and had cried at the end on both occasions even though I knew what was coming the second time, so I knew I was at high risk of crying again if I asked John to take me there. If I asked to see the Perils of Pauline John would pay too much attention to the film and forget that he was with me and I wasn't really in to Star Trek films. I had nothing against Sci-Fi but I much preferred the films that were about things that might happen in the very near future, not about the distant future and were probable rather than improbable and I enjoyed ET for that reason. I sipped at my wine and John made up my mind for me. "I think you would enjoy Love Story but if we're to see it we had better make a move." "You won't like that, it's a romantic tragedy, I'm sure you'd prefer Star Trek." He smiled. "It's a chick flick and you think I'd get bored and fidget about." "No, well yes, it's that men don't really enjoy those type of films, they prefer action films, films where there's loads of fights, blood and explosions." "I've seen Brief Encounter and I enjoyed that." I looked at him to see if he was just being kind. "You want to take me to see it?" "Yes, and if you cry I can comfort you." "Okay and I'll do the same for you provided you don't try to hide it." He smiled as he stood up and took my coat ready to slip onto my shoulders and away we went, his arm around my shoulders and mine around his waist, I was going to enjoy the film more than ever this time, I would have a shoulder to cry on. I must have enjoyed it because he had offered his hanky when the film had only been running a few minutes. I had involuntary raised my fingers and wiped my eyes because the film had gone out of focus and his hand had touched mine and there was his clean, folded hanky waiting for me. I touched it to my eyes and looked down at it and there were two barely damp patches. By the time we left the cinema the hanky was saturated my eyes blurred and I would have fallen down the steps had it not been for his support. I scrunched the hanky up and slipped it into my bag. As quickly as I had done so his hand appeared in front of me with another clean, folded hanky. "I brought a spare," he whispered and I pulled away from him, threw my arms around his neck and kissed him and pressed myself in as close as I could. I had moved so suddenly that the couple walking behind bumped into us and the man said "Sorry," and the woman said. "He's comforting her, didn't you hear her inside the cinema?" I broke the kiss and released John. "What did she mean by that?" "You were sobbing quite a bit." "How loudly?" "Not too loud, they were in the seats behind." "Oh-my-God!" I took a hold of his arm and pulled him. "Come on quickly before we're spotted by one of the staff, I'll be banned from coming in here again," and I forced him to increase our pace until we were a hundred yards from the cinema and only then did I slow down. "We'll be okay now. How bad was I, really, could everybody hear me?" He smiled. "It wouldn't have mattered there were one or two others having a sob and blowing their noses and there were hankies fluttering all over the cinema." "It was probably me that set them off." "You were the first." "It was the gentle banter between them, the love that was blossoming and their not knowing what lay ahead." He chuckled. "I must admit, my eyes felt a little moist towards the end." We continued our walk stopping occasionally to look at the meadow in the late sunset and listen to the blackbird serenade us. "I've recorded him on my phone," I pointed. "He's up there, on top of the ash tree but he has a nest and a wife over there deep inside the shrubbery under the oak. Sometimes when I'm out here during the day, I play the recording and most times he flies to the ash and starts singing back, he can't recognise his own voice and thinks it's somebody trying to move into his territory." "How do you know it's a boy and not a girl?" "Boys are black and the girls are brown and it's always a boy first thing in the morning and last thing at night." "Are you a twitcher?" "No, I just like to listen to them but I admit that if I see a strange bird, a type I've not noticed before I always look it up in my bird books or on the Nett. I've spotted nightingales and heard them, but there is one who lives locally, he'll be out singing later. I've also seen a peregrine falcon and a goshawk, fieldfare and even a tree creeper. It's lovely here, just sitting on the grass and watching them, listening to them sing or have a chat like the sparrows and chaffinches. They have quite busy union meetings sometimes in the evening and everybody shouts at the same time and one evening I had been indoors working all day and I came out here to get some fresh air and saw a starling flume, it was an incredible sight, thousands of them diving and swooping together and making really complex patterns. I puzzle over how they do it without bumping in to each other because they're flying very close and are so good at following the leader's movements." We continued to the flat and went in. "Make yourself comfortable..." "Clever move, so subtle. Pour some wine and go and sit with him but let him make the first move or he might think you're a slapper. Just encourage him a little, let your leg brush his as you sit and lean forward a little, give him a chance to see a little cleavage." "Shut up bitch or you'll be seeing a bit of your own cleavage from throat to crotch." "No, leave the kinky stuff until you've got to know him a little better." "I'm sorry," John said. "I didn't catch that." "I didn't say anything. Oh, perhaps I did, just talking to myself, I do it a lot especially when I'm working. You sit down and I'll get supper ready, would you like a glass of wine, it's only plonk, but we're having a good white with supper." "I'll help you get the supper ready," he followed me into the kitchen and looked around. "It's a large kitchen for a flat, well fitted out as well you obviously enjoy cooking." "I do, it's the artist in me, it has to have an appetizing aroma, look like a master's still life and taste like it was prepared in the kitchens of the gods. There's no cooking involved tonight, it was done earlier, just the lobster and potatoes but the salad dishes look colourful and as for the taste, you will have to be the judge yourself." I poured a glass and a half of wine and handed him the larger of the two. "The white for supper is in the fridge, the left side and you can open it for me if you would and take the dishes of salad into the dining room, I'll just get the lobster ready and finish the salad dressing and then we can eat." "I can see the fridge but where's the dining room?" "Oh yes, you've not seen all the flat yet, it's behind that door and the loo is off the hall. Give me a minute and I'll show you." "Don't worry, I'll find it when I need it but where do I wash my hands before handling the salad?" I smiled. "There's hand basins in the loo and the bathroom next to it. You'd best use the white soap if you use the pink you'll smell lovely but I'd hate the competition. You can use the sink over there if you wish but there's only paper towels." "You missed a chance there, you should have told him he could dry his hands on your blouse." "This is your last warning now hoppit and stop listening in." 5 He surprised me the way he enjoyed supper, men don't really go for salad but he seemed to relish mine, I don't know whether it was the homemade spicy dressing, the lobster or the wine but he certainly ate with enthusiasm and complimented me several times on my skills. "Would you like a fruit salad with ice cream?" I asked. "Thank you, no, I couldn't eat any more." I smiled. "I will take that as a compliment to my culinary skills even though it was nature's work really, all I had to do was rearrange things a little." I stood up. "Coffee, Columbian or Kenyan I don't have "Turkish?" "Kenyan is good." "Would you like it in here or shall we go into the sitting room?" "Whichever suits you, as long as we both drink it in the same room." "I'll serve it in the sitting room and that other door leads back into the hall and if you get lost, just shout." I went into the kitchen and prepared the coffee and took it into the sitting room just as he returned and we both sat on the two seater settee. "I've enjoyed this evening, thank you," he said. "I didn't take you anywhere, you took me so I'm the one who should say thank you. You supplied me with two hankies and let me cry on your shoulder and prevented me from being attacked on the way home." He smiled. "The footpads knew I had you to protect me whilst I was protecting you." I nodded. "We work well as a team. Did I bore you with my enthusiasm for the local wildlife?" "No, it was fascinating and your enthusiasm was infectious, I'm going to read up on starlings and their flying habits on the internet tomorrow." He finished his coffee and I took his cup. "Another?" "No that's fine." I placed the empty cups on the coffee table and stood up and went to the sideboard, I have a single malt or Napoleon brandy?" "I shouldn't drink a brandy, I had three glasses of wine, no four counting the pre supper wine and a beer in the pub, I'll be drunk if I have a brandy." "No you won't, you hold your drink well and we've drunk slowly. It's me that can't drink a lot without falling over." I poured a small brandy and brought it across. "Would you like a cigar to go with it, I have Dutch or Cuban?" He laughed. "Is there anything you don't have, you're a marvellous hostess." I poured myself a very small liqueur, "I don't entertain very often, I'm too busy at the moment and when I do, I like to make it as nice as possible. Now, the cigar?" He shook his head. "No thank you, it would make the room smoky and I wouldn't be able to see you clearly." I came back to the settee with my very small Green Chartreuse and sat down a little closer to him and took a sip. "Can you see me clearly now?" I put the glass on the table and turned into him. He sat still for a moment or two and then his glass joined mine on the table and he pulled me into him and kissed me, kissed me with a little more passion than he had used previously. "If I've acted improperly I will not apologise, you are so lovely, both your looks and your personality and not to have kissed you would have offended the Gods." "You mustn't do that, the repercussions would be horrendous," and I moved closer until the sides of our bodies were touching and I took his hand in mine and pulled it until he had his arm around my shoulder and I turned inwards and our faces were barely an inch apart and we kissed again but this time, when he started to end the kiss, I pressed my lips more tightly against his and opened my mouth a little and took his free hand and placed it on my knee and then put my hand over his shoulder and caressed the back of his head. I was lying across his body now his head tilted forward and I felt the tip of his tongue touch my lips and gently caress them and I opened my mouth a little and then the world disappeared and we kissed as lovers should and I pressed against him and felt his hand start to caress my knee and then move up slightly until his fingers were under my skirt. I parted my legs a fraction and the hand moved upwards a little more and his fingers started lightly caressing the inside of my leg still moving as they worked a little higher until they touched a suspender and there they stopped climbing but continued caressing me. I had reached the point where I was faced with a decision, should I stop him now and bring my knees together or should I let him continue? If I did the later I would have to allow him to continue until we reached the inevitable point of no return and I must let him take me into the bedroom. I wanted him, I wanted him like mad, he was gentle, kind and I was already in love with him but if I disregarded the weeks we had chatted on the internet we had only met twice. He must have sensed my hesitation because he ended the kiss. "I think I had better go home," but he didn't stop caressing my leg and I answered by pulling his hand from under my dress and placed it on my breast and pulled his head close to mine. "It's too late, you've been drinking and could get lost or mugged and you can't leave me here on my own, only halfway to Heaven," and this time it was my tongue that teased his lips and entered his mouth as he started caressing my breast. It only took a short while before I was squirming my way across his lap and when he broke the kiss I whispered. "The zip is held with a hook and eye fastening," and I placed my mouth against his and we kissed again as he fumbled for a moment, managed to unhook the top of the dress and slowly slid the zip down to the belt with one hand and loosen his tie with the other. He dropped the tie to the floor and his hand returned to my breast and caressed the nipple through the slip and basque. I felt my nipples harden and push hard against the basque and tiny electric shocks crossed my body to the other breast and then both nipples sent shocks down my body to my belly button where they joined and went down to where my redundant penus was located and there the electric shocks split into three. It felt as if he had lit sparklers and was holding them close to my body and moving them to trace lines down the inside of my thighs and under me and up between my buttocks, following the line of my spine, over my neck and th