Hi, I'm Jim! free porn video

Hi, I'm Jim! By Virginia Kane Standard caveat applies. Please do not post onto any other website without express written permission of the authoress. If reading explicit adult fiction is illegal where you live, or if you are not yet eighteen years of age, read no further and go do something innocent and constructive. 1. My wife was out of town on business again with her new employer, so I had the entire weekend to express my alter ego. While I was still at home, I had put on my sexiest undergarments and the hold-up nylon stockings with wide patterned elastic bands at the top that kept the sheer stockings in place on my legs without a garter belt. I applied my foundation makeup while still at the house, knowing it'd be totally dark outside by the time I left for the evening. I put on a sheer white blouse and short black skirt and then covered them up with my male outerwear. I felt safe in the parking lot of my favorite gay bar, locked inside of my unlit, air conditioned van as I removed my male outer clothes and changed shoes. With a bit of practiced skill, I hid my graying hair under a platinum blonde page- boy wig that fit snugly. I'd been sneaking there many times without ever engaging in any sexual activity, strictly a curious observer. "There," I mused. "Just need some bold lipstick, a spritz of perfume, a pair of earrings, a necklace, and a few rings, and I'll be done. I'll take care of that while in the women's bathroom, where I can see what I'm doing." Only a few heads turned when I entered the front door. Most of the regulars had seen me before and aren't interested in men who want to look feminine. I walked casually in my two-inch heels, past the bar, all the way to the rear of the lounge to use the women's bathroom to finish applying my makeup. After a few minutes, I exited the bathroom with a bit more color on my face and soft evenness to my tanned complexion. I sat at the end of the bar, next to the service station, though no waitresses are ever on duty. Most regular patrons on a week night sit along the bar. Customers who show up in groups sit at high tables at the entire outer wall of the lounge. They come up and use the service station to order a round of drinks for their table. On weekends, the bartender is usually too busy to wait on the tables. If the lounge is featuring a monthly special, like a floor show, two bartenders are kept busy pouring, all night long. Rudy, the Thursday night bartender had my drink poured and ready for me before I got to my usual barstool. He greeted me with an air kiss, as usual, and asked me how I'm doing. I answer him positively and asked him how he is. We spent the next ten minutes or so catching up on what's going on, or I share a joke with him, which he usually doesn't get, so I have to explain it. After we finished reviewing the local news, I watched the music video on the big screen over the bar and looked over the crowd for people I know. The night was still young, so the place wasn't crowded yet. Gay Ray was at the opposite end of the bar, loud as hell, telling someone I didn't recognize what a lousy deal he got from a bar owner where he was a manager up until recently. Michael, a former bartender of this lounge was tossing back a shot of Jack followed by a Jack and coke, his normal libation. Bob a recently retired male nurse, a very nice guy, saw me and waved to let me know. Michael came over to give me a bear hug and a cheek kiss. I felt sorry for Michael. His long-time lover and his mom both passed away recently. We talked, well, I asked him about Tom, forgetting for a moment that he had passed on. I felt like a fool when he reminded me of his loss and added that his mom had passed away not long afterwards, too. I apologized for forgetting; telling him the infrequency of my visits caused my lapse in memory. "I'm getting older, you know." "We all are," he replied. We chatted some more and a friend of his came up and urged Michael back to the opposite end of the bar where Michael had been sitting before I came in. The barstools next to me on either side were empty, and Rudy was busy at the far end of the bar pouring drinks, so I had no one available to strike up a conversation. I turned in my seat to the right, directing my attention to the music video playing up on the big screen. From behind me, I heard, "Hi there, I'm Jim. Is someone sitting here?" I swiveled around to see who it was and replied in a soft, sexy, feminine voice, "Hi, I'm Delores. My friends call me: 'Dee'." He appeared to be in his mid-fifties, at least, good-looking, with wavy silver hair. I'd never seen him around before, a mystery man, for sure. Leastwise he was to me. "Come in here much?" I asked. "I mean, I've never seen you before. If I had, I would have taken notice and struck up a conversation with you." "This is my first time in here. It seems to be a nice quiet neighborhood bar." "Yes, but in case you haven't noticed, it's a nice quiet, gay bar. That's why I like the place." "Oh yes, I noticed. What brought me here was an ad I saw in the Chicago Gay Times and thought I'd check the place out." He gestured to the empty seat to my left. "Is someone sitting here?" "You are, if you care to join me." He sat down and pulled out a twenty. "I'm new in town, ---- well; ---- I'm not really new to Chicago. I was born and raised here, but was living on the West Coast for over thirty years." "Why leave the sunny West Coast to return to Chicago, Jim?" I asked. "Wife passed on, our kids are married off and they live all over creation. One place is as good as any other, as long as there is work available." "Oh? What kind of work do you do?" "I do specialty electrical lighting. I'm working on a big contract over at Midway Airport at the present. They're revamping the entire concourse." "I'm aware. The entire area is torn up. Traffic on Cicero Avenue is a bear at times. They kept moving it further to the east, until it's as far to the east as it can go now, because of the new 'L' train lines. I can remember back when Cicero Avenue was only a four-lane and it ran straight as an arrow from the town of Cicero down to Ninety-Fifth Street. Now it has six traffic lanes, is curved two blocks to the east around the airport at fifty-Fifth Street plus it has all those new turnouts and ramps to access the airport via overpasses." He turned towards me on his barstool and his knee brushed up against mine. I let my knee linger up against his, reveling in his interest in me. So, you're a married man with children. Do you have any grandkids, yet?" I asked. "Well I was a married man, but I'm widowed now. If you're interested, I can talk about my grandkids until you're bored to tears, but I'd rather talk about you. I can detect now that you aren't what you appear to be, but don't get me wrong, I'm not judging you for it. I'm just curious about your reasons for crossdressing. You do it well, by the way. What do you like about doing it?" "I enjoy the firm embrace of a tight corset up against my body, coaxing it to conform to a more feminine shape. More guys ought to give it a try, if you ask me. If they did, many of them would fall in love with crossdressing, just like me. A lot of gays don't care for the feminine image, though. It's a pity." "Yeah, most gays prefer manly partners, but these days, gay men are getting bolder and bolder. Some will approach strait men subtly in straight bars, and offer to fellate them, often get beaten up for trying. Straight men who aren't interested in a bit of kink belittle gays at the very least. In my opinion, gay men would be better off sticking to gay friendly lounges where they'll find men who are more understanding, even if unwilling to experiment." I responded, "I agree -- mostly. If you wish to be dominant, you ought to respect the needs and preferences of someone who is accommodating. Not everyone wants to be an Alpha personality. I personally dislike bull-headed, aggressive people, in general, male or female. They always want to get their way, and lack consideration for the likes and dislikes of others." Jim gently took my left hand into his right hand and placed them both onto my left knee and asked me in a hushed tone, "When you said 'if you" a few moments ago, were you referring to me in particular, or were you speaking about dominant men in general?" "Are you saying you prefer to be the dominant partner in a relationship?" "Well, I'm not really sure, but at my age, I may be set in my ways. My wife seemed to think I was always in charge, even though she made most of the decisions about raising our kids. Maybe she let me think I was in charge all the time to keep me happy. If I should become physically involved with someone again, I suppose I'd rather be the pitcher rather than the catcher." "What do you mean by 'if'?" "Oh, I've had a few encounters trying out either role, but t always ends up a one-time fling, usually very disappointing. Nowadays I'm more interested in finding a sincere person, who I can relate to socially as well as intimately." "That's easier said than done. A lot of gays think variety is the spice of life. That can be dangerous, in consideration of the STDS going around." "Well, I have to assume that you've been very careful, because you seem to have survived well. From our brief meeting tonight, so far, I'll bet that you are a bit older than you appear to be. Am I right?" "It could be. That's another advantage of crossdressing. It hides my age." "You look very sexy. How do you hide your beard?" "I have a very light beard. I don't even have a distinct beard line. It must be a genetic anomaly. Both of my brothers have heavy beards. When I try to grow a mustache, it only makes my face look dirty. I guess I'm just lucky. My darling wife prefers that I don't try to grow one. She says it scratches." "Oh, so you're married. Do I detect a note of sarcasm in your voice?" "Yes, she discovered my unusual hobby and has threatened to throw me out if she ever catches me touching any of her clothes. It's highly unlikely. She's younger than me and she still has a great figure. I could never fit into any of her elegant clothes. I don't get to dress like this very often, so I can survive on a small wardrobe of the barest necessities I've accumulated." "How much does your hobby interfere with your marital --- compatibility?" "That's a joke! What compatibility? Ha! What drove me to crossdressing in the beginning was pure envy. We were deeply in love when we got married. I worshipped the ground she walked on. She wanted to have children, so we had two, early on. Then, our undying ardor slowly slipped away while our children were growing up. She wanted to preserve her figure and I enjoyed having a trophy wife. She felt if she was to bear me any more children, her beauty would fade, so she insisted, I get a vasectomy. My vasectomy it gave her an excuse to proclaim sex was meant for procreation, not recreation." "It wasn't very long after we were advised that I was sterile that she got a resurgence of moral fortitude, and she resisted my advances more and more and told me I was always too eager. After a while, I became frustrated and resorted to doing my laundry by hand. "To acquire reading material for inspiration, I went to adult book stores. Oh, bookstores are a thing of the past, now that you can view all the sex you'll ever want on the internet, but back then, the book stores were the only places you could find printed smut. One thing led to another and I progressed to dropping coins into the viewing booths, and surreptitiously peeked into the adjacent booths to spy on other viewing booth customers." "One night, as I peered into an adjacent booth, what I assumed was a nearly naked girl was being kissed by another person, a man. She stepped up to the glory hole between our booths and exposed her lacy panties to me. When I reached into the booth, to caress the panty, I discovered it contained a very erect penis. I withdrew my hand immediately and I left that viewing booth in great haste, shaking like a leaf. That night, the vision of that panty flooded my mind. I had to find out what wearing lace panties felt like. I did find out a week later, and I've been hooked on wearing sexy panties ever since." I reached for my drink to take a sip, assuming Jim would take his hand away at the same time. Instead, he left his hand sitting on my left thigh, just below the hem of my short skirt. "Hmm, that's smooth. Do you shave your legs?" I took in a sharp, deep breath as his warm hand began to stroke my leg near the top of my nylon. "Yeah, I do, or I used to. I depilate them now. It's a lot easier and it lasts longer. I enjoy feeling my hairless nylon covered legs rub together." I pulled my two legs together, trying to have them rub up against one another. Instead, I felt Jim's hand slip in between them right at the top of my nylons. "So, do you like how my hand feels there, between your legs? Your intimate story of your introduction to crossdressing seems logical, except you wanted to find out what a warm hand feels likes to a wearer of panties. Am I right?" "Yes," I admitted softly. "I did. It is tempting and exiting, but I think we'd better not go any further. I don't want to give you the wrong impression." "So, you found out that you like being admired. Didn't you? You know what I'm going to ask of you next, don't you?" He whispered. "You want to kiss me, don't you?" "Do you want me to kiss you?" "Yes," I said timidly, as I turned my head and leaned forward. "Then, ask me to kiss you." This was a big step for me. "Kiss me," I pleaded softly. He did. Jim kissed me, right on my lips. Then he kissed me again, harder, and yet once again, even harder. His moist, insistent lips were rough and insistent at first, and then they became warm, comforting, tender and less demanding. For the very first time since I had begun to crossdress, a man found me attractive enough to kiss me, instead of mock me. He took me into his arms and made me feel grateful for being alive; not just an empty shell of something I once had been. I almost felt ---desired. I sensed someone sitting down behind me on the barstool immediately to my right. I tried to see who it was, but Jim turned me back toward him on my barstool, so my back was to the rest of the crowd. I felt his hand resume its way between my clenched thighs. "Please, although I enjoy portraying a female guise, I can't respond to you like one. I'm still a married man. I'd like to continue, really, but I'd never risk bringing home a serious health threat ---" I barely finished the sentence. Disappointed, his hand fell away and he sat back down on his barstool. "You are a strange one. You come to a gay bar all dressed up like a wanton harlot in search of fulfillment; you allow me to kiss you again and again, and then you suddenly claim that you don't want to or you can't violate your marital vows. What are you so afraid of? I'll bet you your wife isn't being as loyal to you as you are being to her. Who is she with tonight? Eh?" "Don't demean her, Jim. She's out of town on business, working. She's a successful executive and her boss has her seeking a likely location for a new branch facility." "I didn't mean to impune your trust in your wife's loyalty. Hell, I don't even know her, but I think you ought to evaluate your position more honestly." "There's more to marriage than mere physical attraction, you know. If your wife is so loyal, why doesn't she take you along on her business trips to share her evenings with you and then have you add your insight to all her observations? At least the two you two could spend your nights together while you're traveling." "I can't accompany her on her trips. I might lose my own job if I neglect it." "I thought you just said she's a successful executive. If she is, she probably makes enough money to enable you to take time off to accompany her." "Not really, I want to keep my own job, even if I don't make anywhere near as much money as my wife does. I have my pride, you know. I prefer my coworkers to think I'm the family's principal provider, and not her. Besides, I don't feel right discussing my marital status with someone I barely know. My wife and I get along just fine for the most part. We may not see eye to eye on some things I'd rather not talk about right now. That's all." "I'm sorry, Dee. I didn't mean to pry." "I've got the feelings of my grown kids to consider. What would they think of either of us, if my wife and I don't grant each other the breathing room to attend to our careers?" "You're right; your marriage is none of my business. I really didn't mean to pry. I was just wondering: --- if the two of you are truly happy together, why are you here tonight, frequenting a gay bar?" "Like I said earlier, I simply enjoy the feeling of feminine attire. It gives me an emotional rush to put on a sexy looking skirt and blouse and be identified as a woman. So far, this means of self-expression has been an innocent, yet it's a naughty thing for me to do without violating my responsibilities to my wife. My dressing up still doesn't automatically mean I wish to be involved in intimacy with someone else, either with a male or a female." "Oh? Then why did you ask me to kiss you?" "Chalk it up to curiosity and an emotional kick of the moment. No man has ever asked me if I'd like to be kissed before. You caught me off guard." "That's bunk and you know it. Don't try to tell me that was the first time a gay man has ever asked you for a kiss?" Jim asked me, haughtily. "No, you're right, but up until tonight, the kisses always felt different. They were never so --- so intimate. Believe it or not, yours were my first intimate kisses. Maybe I should explain. I really haven't been dressing as a woman very long. I've had gay friends for many years, but my interest in dressing up has taken a long time to progress to the stage you see tonight. It didn't just happen all of a sudden. It took a lot of time and forethought for me to accept crossdressing as a viable means of self-expression." "I'm sorry if I've imposed on you by asking for that first kiss." "Oh, don't be. I'm not. I've always wondered what it's like to be kissed intimately as a woman would be by a man. Thank you for that. I really like you but I want you to know that I won't do anything that might jeopardize my marriage, and I don't want you to think I'm ---- available," I suggested. "Well, I'm not going to lie to you. That would be rude of me. I was hoping we could be more than just casual friends, but I guess that isn't possible." "Would you want to kiss me again, after I've told you it just can't go any further than kissing because I want to remain faithful to my wife, even if she isn't responsive to me." "I'd be glad to, but if my kissing you makes you feel uncomfortable we don't have to. We can spend the balance of the evening talking; finding out more background about each other. True friendships are built one at a time, and I'm the one from out of town who doesn't have any friends in the area yet. It would be nice of you to introduce me to some of your friends." "Of course, if you'd like." One by one, I introduced Jim to Rudy, Bob S. and Michael by name and a few others I recognized who came in after I met Jim. I turned on my barstool to the right to see who it was that was nudging me. It was another newbie I didn't recognize. I smiled and then turned back to Jim. "As you can see, we're pretty much all more mature men in here. There isn't a young and cocky horny toad in the lot. Once they get to know you better, I'm sure they'll open up to you more. You're an easy guy to like. I'm sure others here will show more interest in you once they've seen you around." "Thanks for making me feel welcome here. I'll try to be worthy of their friendship, but I'm more interested in becoming better friends with you." I blushed at his compliment, let him take my left hand back into his and let him kiss me once again, but I didn't let his hands roam under my skirt again. The new person behind me, someone I didn't even know, offered to buy the two of us a drink to break the ice. I didn't know how to respond. Jim spoke up and said, "Thanks jus the same, but she's with me. We were just about to move to a table to continue our conversation; maybe, next time." With that, Jim stood up and took my hand into his to lead me away to one of the high tables along the wall opposite the bar. He made it obvious to the man offering us a drink that he wanted me all to himself, which bolstered my ego another notch. We took the last table along the wall, the one closest to the small dancefloor by the side entrance. A four foot high glass block partition with barstools and a narrow table built in separates the table Jim chose from the entryway and dancefloor, affording us a bit of privacy. I sat in the corner, against the wall and Jim moved his barstool so he was situated with his back to the rest of the patrons. "Do you know him?" Jim asked. "No, I've never seen him here before," I said, "but I don't come here very often, so he may be one of the neighborhood's residents. Do you think he was listening in on our conversation?" "Could be, not that it matters, now. He's leaving." I went up to the bar and asked Rudy, "Do you know the guy who just left?" Rudy said, "No, I don't think I ever saw him before, but then, I only work on Thursdays to give Reuben a day off. Maybe Thursday isn't this guy's regular night to prowl and he's been in here before." 2. A week or so later, I found out who the mysterious guy at the lounge was and what he was doing in a formal letter I received from my wife with the papers she sent me requesting a divorce. Along with the letter, she included several pictures from the prior Thursday with me being kissed by my new friend: Jim, one of which showed his hand up under the hem of my skirt. Del, I'm at the point that I don't even know who you are anymore. Over the years, you've changed so dramatically from the loving man you once were into a complete stranger. I tried to talk to you about how I feel about your strange behavior many times, but apparently, what I had to say to you about acting like a fool has fallen on deaf years. I can't tolerate your idiotic escapades any longer. I feel it's best for us to part ways at this time and find happiness without each other. I've granted my lawyer absolute power of attorney to negotiate the amiable separation of our mutual assets with you. Please cooperate with him to avoid a costly court confrontation which will be detrimental to your financial position, I can assure you. My current business dealing has me overwhelmed. I am involved in negotiating a substantial business acquisition. Because of this, I must remain out of town and regret that I can't address the culmination of our marriage personally. I have total confidence in Mr. Adams, my attorney's ability to arrange a fair and equitable cash settlement with you. I sincerely hope you will find happiness in your new guise. May. I went into shock. I read the letter over and over, not wanting to believe what it inferred. My wife of over twenty-five years didn't even offer me a chance to discuss the possibility of resolving our differences. Didn't she realize that I only developed an interest in crossdressing because of her continual lack of attention to me? Oh no, her damned executive job was far more important! I went off the deep end and stayed drunk for days on end, missing work the entire time. The termination notice from work for non- response didn't even faze me. I ignored the scheduled meetings with her attorney too, hoping my wife would come to her senses and dismiss him, and come back home to me. Weeks went by, and it was a greater shock to me to learn from watching the news one night, that the business where she was employed was taken over by a New York firm and the owner and his personal assistant, now his fianc? were planning on retiring. The picture of her in his arms sealed the coffin on our marriage. It was indeed a bitter pill to swallow. I finally conceded to a meeting with her attorney, and hired an attorney of my own to represent me. Between them, they hashed out a settlement, taking me to the cleaners, forcing me to sell the house we lived in ever since we got married. After paying the commission for the sale, the legal fees and closing costs, I was left with a paltry sum, as everything we owned was sold at fire sale prices in the equitable distribution of our assets. With our house of over twenty-five years forcibly taken out from under me, I had to find a smaller place to live in upon; one I could afford to make the down payment on with the little funds remaining after all was said and done. I went back to my old employer with my hat in my hand begging for my old job back. He met me in his private office behind closed doors and showed me copies of the pictures of me dressed in a skirt and blouse being kissed by another man. "We sell school supplies here! If any of our customers ever got wind of the shenanigans you are involved in, word would spread like wildfire. I'd lose all of the business I spent my life developing! There's no way I can take a chance on that happening by hiring you back. You can file suit against me if you'd like, but I can easily show just cause for dismissing you when I did. Goodbye and good luck to you." That ended that. He almost slammed the door on me as I was leaving. I then telephoned our son to see how he was getting along and I got the cold shoulder. "Yeah dad, I'm sorry that you lost your job. If you're wondering if you can come out to visit us, forget about it. Mom has sent us some pictures of you that we can't let the kids see. Sis phoned me about it and she feels the same way my wife and I do. It's your own fault mom sent you packing, dad. Hope you're happy. Goodbye!" That was quick and curt. My son didn't even give me a chance to explain why I became interested in crossdressing. I didn't see the point of telephoning our daughter. My son made her position clear during my phone call to him. Our kids didn't want any part of dealing with the issue. Since I received that curt letter from my ex-wife, I didn't have an inclination to wear women's clothes again. The very means I had chosen to tolerate my ex-wife's standoffish attitude toward me for the past several years was my comeuppance, so I blamed our divorce on my crossdressing. Disgusted with myself over my misfortune, I purged my meager stash of feminine attire and called for an Uber driver to drive me to the lounge where it had all started, knowing I was going to get good and drunk that night. When I got there, I went to the rear of the bar to my usual seat. There, sitting alone was Jim, the man who was innocently instrumental in my downfall. He said, "HI, My name is Jim." And he held out his hand to be shaken as an indication that I was pleased to meet him. I shook his hand and softly replied, "Hi, my name's Del.'' He looked at me funny for a few moments and then, as if a light bulb suddenly went on inside of his head he asked, "DEE?" "Yeah, but it's going to be Del, as in Delbert, from now on. You have no idea what misfortune befell me after the last time I saw you in here." "What? Have you been ill I've been stopping by, hoping to see you again, but you haven't been here according to the bartender. Hmm, you do look somewhat gaunt, now that I've gotten over the shock of seeing you as a man. "My wife divorced me, Jim. I lost my house, and got shunned by my son, who has always been my shining star, all because of some pictures the guy to my right took of us on the night we first met in here. He must have been a private dick who my ex-wife hired to spy on me." Jim said, "You've got to be kidding! She divorced you over a few kisses?" "Well, one picture showed your hand under my skirt, groping me. I received a letter from her a week later. She didn't even give me a chance to explain." "Could she do that?" he said. "Didn't you have a day in court?" "She could and I did. Her attorney appeared on her behalf to represent her with the incriminating photos. I had no defense to offer. She was out of town on business, and had her lawyer prepare the documents with her signatures on them in advance. Since I really couldn't contest the validity of the photos, the court accepted her attorney's witness who provided sworn testimony that I had been cheating on her, with a man no less. "Later, I heard an announcement on the evening news about her employer selling off his company and the two of them retiring together as a couple. She must have been planning to divorce me for some time and was waiting for me to provide her with proof of my infidelity. What could I do? She had caught me cold the first time I encountered someone who liked me as Dee!" "Meaning me?" "Of course I mean you, Jim. You were my only lapse in fidelity to my wife. Don't get me wrong, I don't blame you; not at all. You just happened to be the one guy I fell for when I least expected. The only thing I can blame you for is being so positively handsome and charming. I was enamored by your suave demeanor. I blame myself and the guy sitting to the right of us that night who took the candid photos of us making out. I never had the nerve to let anyone kiss me before, but with you, I don't know what came over me. You literally swept me off my feet. Don't worry, Jim. It won't happen again, because I will never dress up as a woman again. "That foolishness cost me my marriage and a lot more. My ex took me to the proverbial cleaners with the divorce settlement and then she sent the pictures of us kissing to my boss, who fired me for being a perv. I was employed by a company that sells school supplies to publicly funded institutions. I put a nice guy's company's reputation in jeopardy by my wearing female clothing. He had to let me go. She then sent copies of the photos to our kids to put me on their shit list, too. If I had the guts and a means to do it, I should pull the plug and be done with my miserable life, once and for all." "Wouldn't that be like burning the barn down because the horse got away? He asked. Then he added, "What's done is done, and I'm sorry you took a bad fall. If I was you, I'd get back on my feet, brush myself off, and move on; not punish yourself." "I don't see your point, Jim. It was wrong of me, a married man, to fool around like I did. I deserved to get what happened to me. Don't you see?" "She punished you plenty for what you were doing, maybe more than she should have, out of pure spite. In fact, she may have done you a favor by divorcing you. She apparently doesn't love you anymore if she took off with her former employer. To me, it sounds like she was planning to leave you for some time, and used your fetish as a convenient excuse to be rid of you. You're probably better off without her. She surely wasn't a real wife to you for some time. Was she?" "No, she wasn't, not at all, but I don't see how that vindicates me for being unfaithful to her. It was wrong of me to let you kiss me. Don't you see?" "Perhaps, but sooner or later, your wife would have left you anyhow if she was already being courted by her boss. She simply would have had a weaker bargaining chip to play at the divorce hearing and you would have been the injured party. Don't you see? She waited until she could show a good reason to make you look bad. For my being a part of that, I'm sorry. If I had known what she was planning, I would have been more discreet with you, myself. "I'm not sorry that we met when we did, though. After spending a pleasant evening talking with you, I went home hoping we'd meet up again. That was close to two months ago, and I've been coming here after work almost every night, hoping to see you again. I'm glad my persistence has finally paid off. You can't imagine how disappointed I was, not seeing you here over the past few months. I thought I may have offended you by my being so forward and ruined my chances of our becoming better acquainted." He took my right hand into his. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry how your ex treated you, but, on the other hand, I'm glad you're presently --- unattached. Hopefully, you and I can now continue to see each other and perhaps we can get to know each other better. You know, I didn't even get your cell phone number, the last time I saw you, or I would have been calling on you, even if it's only to have a quick lunch or go out to dinner together sometime." "Well, like you said, I'm unattached now, so I don't suppose it would pose a problem if we met for a casual lunch or dinner sometime. Oh, but I won't be able to meet you as Delores. I immediately purged my feminine finery after I received those incriminating photos my wife had that spy take of us." "How you'll dress won't matter if we'll be meeting for lunch, but if we go out for dining and dancing; it may look unusual for others to see two men dancing and holding hands. I don't know of any gay friendly restaurants in the area. Do you?" "No, I don't." I chuckled. "Darn it! Instead of purging, I should have put my 'Delores' attire into storage with the things my wife left behind to be sold or given away to charity. I haven't gotten around to disposing any of it yet. It's also too bad she was such a thin woman. She intentionally left her most of her wardrobe behind because she felt I may have bought some of her clothes for her or I rummaged through what she had bought; some time or another." "Have you ever tried any of her clothes on?" "Heavens, no, my ex is thin as a rail, except for, well, you know. Women are shaped differently than men. She has a bountiful bosom and derriere, but her waistline is a mere fraction of mine. I could never squeeze into her things. If I could have, I would have because she has excellent taste. All of her clothes are far more expensive and elegant than anything 'Delores' ever owned." "Which do you think would be more expensive: replacing her wardrobe or altering your figure just enough for you to fit into her existing wardrobe?" "I told you, I've purged everything I owned. I did it because of the grief my crossdressing has caused me. I'm not about to reacquire a new wardrobe to be able to go out dancing with you. Dressed up, I can get away with it in a darkened, gay bar, but in the light of day, I'd be read, sure as shit. You're a prime example. You detected my masquerade, even though I was dressed well enough to pass muster the night we met." "Your voice and not your clothing gave you away, Del. If you let me do all the talking, I'm sure you could pass with ease. In fact, I'd be willing to bet you the price of an entire new outfit of your choosing to prove my point." "You just want me to revert to dressing up as a woman again. Don't you." He just smiled. "To tell truth, after my costly divorce, I don't have the money or inclination anymore. If I hadn't dressed in the first place, I might still be married." "Oh? I thought I explained that opinion of yours quite adequately already. Your ex would have found cause to divorce you eventually. If her employer was hot to bang her bones, he'd have sought out a plausible reason for her to leave you high and dry somehow. All that you did was to make it easier for her to get the lion's share of your joint assets. "A man usually considers his home his castle, but he also has his lion's lair where he can be his own man. To a woman the home represents much more. It's her regal realm, where she is the queen of the roost and all those within it are ruled by her. A woman discards all who fail to bend to her rule. If she isn't preserving her worldly realm intact, it means she has found a new and better one to replace it already. When she went out on her ventures, was she alone, or did her boss accompany her?" "No, and Yes, I suppose he did go with her. I can't be sure, though." "If she was fully in charge of negotiating the acquisitions, why would he tag along, unless they were sharing a bed? Her job title was probably just a ruse. Consider this. You told me you heard on the news that he sold the company and the two of them immediately retired from the business world ---together. It's plain to me they had something going on between them all along. There is no good reason for you to punish yourself over your divorce because you weren't the one who was at fault. She was the guilty party, but blamed you." "But, even if my ex-wife wasn't being faithful to me, I was still at fault! The compromising photos of us together prove I was being unfaithful to her, but I have no proof she was having an affair with her boss at the same time." "I wish I had a way to prove to you that she was fooling around behind your back and set you up to take a fall, so she could prove that she was the injured party, and thereby save face with your kids and maybe the rest of her family. Lo! Beware the injured virtue of the female of the specie! Women always try to make a guy look like the culprit, to preserve their impugned dignity. "What difference does it make? She left me. That's what matters. She took me for a bundle, and now I have no viable means of supporting myself, but I'll manage, somehow. I always have. I just have to find a new job in the area, so I can afford the small house I was able to pick up cheap because most people are looking for more spacious accommodations these days." "Maybe I can help in that regard. While I'm working in an area, I stay at an extended stay hotel. It costs more than a regular hotel or motel room, but it allows me to have a sink, a small refrigerator and a microwave oven, so I don't have to eat out all the time, which costs me even more. How many bedrooms and bathrooms does your new place have?" "It has two bedrooms, but it presently has only one bathroom. A second one is rouged in, but it was never finished. It's only a laundry room, right now." "You have a laundry room? That's even better. I have to send my clothes out to be laundered or cleaned. Having an in-house laundry would save a bundle because my clothes can get downright filthy in my line of work sometimes. I'd want to be able to shower every evening, though." "The paperwork on the house indicated that it has an 'on demand' hot water heater, so you could shower for as long as you'd like every evening, but hold on for a minute. I've never considered sharing my home with another man before. Wouldn't it look odd to the neighbors if they see us living together?" "In this day and age no one cares who you live with, or what your sexual preferences are anymore. Of course, if it worries you, you can always dress as a woman all the time; then the appearance of impropriety wouldn't arise, now would it? We'd appear like a perfectly normal mature man and loving wife whose grown kids have left the roost already. I'd like the arrangement because I miss my darling wife, and I'd welcome having someone special to come home to at night. As a guy, you're okay in my books, Delbert, but I'd much rather live with 'Dee' if I have any say in the matter." "Sorry, but I told you I've given up all that nonsense. Look at the trouble it's cause me! My wife divorced me over it and my kids think I'm a sex pervert because of my crossdressing! I'm afraid it will only bring me more grief!" "That was then. This is now. Consider all the trouble you'd be avoiding with our neighbors by crossdressing, representing a loving, devoted wife to me if we should decide to cohabitate. I think you'd get along much better with the neighbors than trying to convince them you're a happy-go-lucky divorcee. Some local men may even consider you to be a threat to their happy home." "I never thought of that. Why would they consider me a threat? I'm not an aggressive sort of individual. Do you think I am?" "No, but then again, I'm not a jealous husband who thinks his wife is God's gift to mankind, even if the rest of the world thinks she a plain Jane. Living as a single man, there's no telling what the guy next door to you thinks. If he's the least bit the jealous type, you'd better steer clear of his betrothed. The slighted mishap could set a jealous husband off, and you'll become the convenient target for his anger. You'd be far better off sharing your home with someone, preferably someone of the opposite sex. Do you know of any women in the area to whom you could offer a place to live?" "No, I don't, and I don't think I'd want to live with another woman, after the way the love of my life treated me so badly in the divorce proceedings." "There you have it. Your best bet is to let me take you shopping for some beautiful, inexpensive, feminine attire. You'd need a whole new ensemble. Would an initial allowance of a thousand dollars be enough for starters?" "You call a thousand dollars an allowance?" "Of course, you don't think I'd allow you spend your limited funds on new clothes that you'll be wearing just to please me? If you'll allow me to pick out what you'll be wearing, I should provide you with the money to pay for what you'll need. Don't you think? You'll grant the privilege of selection to me, won't you, seeing as how all your new attire will be my treat? I'll have you know: I have excellent fashion sense in women's attire." "Wait! I haven't agreed to rent a room at my place to you yet. Shouldn't we come to some sort of terms about that, first?" "What is there for us to decide? You're presently unemployed, so I'll pay all the household bills every month and the monthly mortgage payment, and I'll also give you a weekly allowance for the food and incidentals, just like any responsible man of the house would do. All you have to do is be the lady of the house for me." "Whoa! How much of the normal responsibilities of a kept woman do expect of me, Jim? I didn't mind being kissed by you the night we first met, but you were becoming a bit frisky with me at one point, and I had to stop you. I told you back then that I'm not gay, and nothing has changed since then. You'd better keep that tidbit in the back of your mind, because if you're expecting me to respond to you sexually, you're sadly mistaken. "Yes, Del, I vividly remember what you told me back then, and I assure you, that I expect nothing in the way of sexual favors from you if we decide on an agreeable living arrangement. If anything sexual should ever result from our new living arrangement, it will occur only because you want it to happen, not because of how keenly I feel about you. I want you to feel comfortable; totally at ease with me around the house every evening, barbequing dinner on the grill for you and doing other husbandly things like that. You won't be able to relax if you're worried about what the neighbors are thinking about the two mature men living together as a couple. "Jim, I only meant my occasional crossdressing to be an escape mechanism for self-satisfaction because my wife wasn't the least bit responsive sexually, as a loving wife should be to her husband. It never crossed my mind that she was sleeping with another man while we were married, or that another man, meaning you, would interpret my casual crossdressing as an open invitation to approach me for gay sex. I guess I must be somewhat na?ve in that regard. I'd like to believe that your offer to help me out financially at this dire time of tribulation is sincere, but I have to assume you have an ulterior motive." "I'm not about to try to deceive you, Del. I do have an ulterior motive. I like you; I like you a lot. When you were dressed as Dee, you sounded just like my dearly departed, not so much because of what you were saying at the time, but the manner of speech you were using was almost identical to hers. I fell in love with the feminine version of your voice the moment we met. "So that you know, like you and your ex-wife, my lovely wife and I weren't engaging in marital sex for some years either. Penal penetration eventually became very painful for her, so my wife and I resorted to alternative means for our mutual release. I'm telling you this to explain why I don't view oral sex as being gay sex, necessarily. There are times when it is appropriate for straight people as it is for those of alternate sexual persuasion." "Why did you make that admonition to me now, Jim? I didn't comment on the way you and your wife behaved as a couple. Did I?" "No, but you mentioned at some point how you started dressing as a woman by wearing women's panties for masturbation to relieve your pent- up sexual frustration because you and your ex-wife were no longer engaging in marital sex. It merely reminded me of the means my wife and I used to resolve our marital difficulties necessitated by her inoperable cancer, that's all." "No, that's not all, Jim. You were hinting that oral sex is appropriate when normal marital sex isn't available. Am I right?" "Yes, but I also said that I have no expectations in regard to the two of us ever becoming sexually involved. I was trying to tell you that you could still use masturbation to relieve your pent up sexual frustration, if you'd like to. If anything sexual ever happens between us, it will be because you want it to happen, and not me. Did I not also assure you of that?" "Yes, you did. That's what you said to me a while back, but is that how you will behave, once I've invited you to live with me in my new house?" "Look, you let me kiss you quite a lot, when we first met. You drew the line when I tried to become too familiar with you by placing my hand where it shouldn't have gone, but I accepted your limitations when you told me. You must admit, I stopped the moment you asked me to stop. Didn't I? Did I ever impose on your virtue or was I overly persistent in any way, once you let me know I'd crossed the line of impropriety?" "I must admit. You definitely were a perfect gentleman after I warned you, Jim. I hope I can trust you to remain a perfect gentleman if I agree to accept your generous offer until I can get back on my feet again, financially." "All that I ask is that you'll dress up as 'Dee' all the time and never as 'Del'. If you agree to do that for me, I'll be glad to be the bread winner for as long as you let me be, or my assignment at the airport ends, which won't happen for at least a year, possibly two. You ought to find something by then." "I'm counting on your being honest, or you can't move in with me, Jim." "Well, I may want you to kiss me at the door to greet me upon my return from work every evening, as a gesture of being a dutiful wife, but I won't request anything more from you than that. Any nosey neighbors around us will take note, and the simple gesture will cement our relationship as being a normal couple. You can claim that you're straight as an arrow all you'd like, but you have to admit that you enjoyed being kissed by me. Didn't you?" "Yes, it's not easy to explain how I felt at the time. It felt great, but at the same time, I knew that it was improper, two men kissing in public. When I think of the trouble those innocent kisses caused, I get stomach cramps. "My ex made a big thing of us being gay, just because I permitted you to kiss me and place your hand between my thighs where you shouldn't have." "That was then and this is now, Del. You no longer have a cheating wife to incriminate you for your behavior. You can do however you like now." "Why did you admit to me that you and your wife weren't having normal sex for a long time before she passed away Jim? If I let you move in with me under the assumption that I'm your loving wife, I suppose you'll expect me to take her place in all respects, eventually. I can see that coming one day, down the road, but don't count on me getting involved with you any more than I have already, because you'll be very disappointed." "I already assured you t I won't expect you to anything for me in that regard that you don't want to do. You can take that to the bank. I want our evolving relationship to be congenial and enjoyable. What do you think I am, some sort of lecher?" "What do you believe you'll want me to do for you if we live together?" "Well, I like to eat lots of popcorn whenever I watch football on television, and I don't want to miss any of the action. I'd appreciate if you'd make the popcorn for me and bring me a beer or two during the games, so I won't miss out on any plays. It seems every time I get up to use the bathroom or get a fresh beer from the fridge, I miss out on a crucial pass or a touchdown run. Thank goodness for instant replays." "I could do that. I have a similar hang-up." "Oh, what's that?" "I like to sit up late at night and watch movies from the forties and fifties." "I do, too. They don't make movies like the classics any more. Everything made nowadays involves car chases or burning down buildings with the hero and heroine trapped in impossible situations. The acting isn't half as good as the stars from the early days were. I could watch the older movies over and over, because some of the story lines are worth seeing more than once." "Hey, we have something in common, Jim!" "Are you a Sox fan or a Cub fan?" "I was born and raised on the south side. What do you think?" "I was, too, until I moved to the West Coast. I root for the Sox and anyone playing against the Cubs." "That's rotten! I'm a Chicago fan, except during the crosstown ball games. Then I'm a Sox fan through and through. I like football more than baseball, but I was never good at sports, so I didn't play sandlot football like most of the kids in my neighborhood. They made fun of me and said I threw like a girl, so I was chosen last when we were picking teams and sat out most of the time if there were an odd number of players. Those professional football players are monsters, not men. I still like to watch them play, though." "Good girl! Oops, I did mean that. Do you mind? I didn't mean it as dig." "No, I guess my softer side is showing again." "Your unusual skill at expressing inner tenderness is your strong suit, Mel. Use it to your advantage. You may be concerned about being read by others in the light of day, but with a little more practice and experience, I think you can do a marvelous job of portraying womanhood without ever being found out. Why not give it a try for a while? I'll buy you anything you need to get started again." Oh, okay! I'll do it. I don't have much choice, anyway. If I don't find a new job, the bank holding the mortgage is going to toss me out on my ear a few months from now for not making payments. I had everything figured out to the 'T'. Then my boss canned me for being a pervert, supposedly." "Are you in arrears at the bank?" "No, I just acquired my new house about a month ago. I shouldn't have put all the money I had available on the down payment. I should have held more money in reserve for emergencies, but I didn't realize I'd lose my job over those pictures of us, Jim." "You're making me feel responsible for you're getting fired, you know. If I had known you'd get fired over my kissing you, I wouldn't have done it." "What's done is done. Getting fired was the least of my worries. I'll find another job, unless I get blackballed. It was my fault; not yours, Jim. You didn't have a vindictive wife out to get you, like mine. Getting a divorce after over twenty-five years was more devastating to me than you can imagine. How could you know about my circumstances back then?" "Well, for what it's worth, I assume full responsibility for creating a fiasco you certainly don't deserve, so I'll gladly provide anything you need, within reason, to get by until you can find meaningful employment, even longer if it will be convenient to the both of us. In the meantime, all you'll have to do is to act like a dutiful housewife for me. How's that sound?" "Well, after what happened to me for being a crossdresser, I don't cherish going back to it again, but I suppose I don't have much choice. However, I'll have to insist that you won't ever ask me to do anything other than 'pretend' I'm your loving wife." "No problem, I promise, no hanky-panky. Okay? Now, when do you want to go shopping for your new wardrobe? I suggest we do go shopping 'on line', so we can't be observed by anyone. We can use my laptop. It's over at the extended stay hotel where I'm staying, or we can use yours, if you prefer." "My computer isn't working too well at the moment. I haven't set it up yet at the new house. I'm not going into any motel with you, if you don't mind. I'm still leery about being photographed by someone. That's why I'm here tonight as a male and I purged all my feminine attire." "If you're that paranoid about being seen with me, I'm surprised you came out at all. I have my own car. I suppose you drove your car here. If you give me your new address, I'll stop at the motel to get my laptop and come over to your place. I might as well find out what the place is like before I decide on moving in with you. It's late enough so the neighbors will probably be in bed by now, so it's not likely we'll be observed, if you're worried about us being seen together as two men. Personally, I don't think anyone cares much anymore. The damage those photos of us together can do has already been done. We might as well enjoy each other's company. Don't you think?" "My house has a two-car garage, but one parking space is full of odds and ends in boxes that I haven't figured out where to put away yet. I'll park in the driveway, so you can pull into the side that's clear when you arrive." 3. We stayed up half the night shopping for a wardrobe for me on line. While I was looking, Jim was snooping, surprised at how much of my ex- wife's clothes were packed into the boxes in the garage. When I told him those boxes weren't half of what she had left behind, he couldn't believe it. "It's a shame her clothes don't fit you. You seem slim enough to be able to wear some of them. Are you sure you tried them all?" "I can't. I've tried. Maybe I can fit into some of her looser fitting maternity outfits because the waistlines are made of stretchy material, but like I have mentioned before: women are built differently from men. My waist is too wide, and my hips are too small. I could use padding to create a bosom, and I did whenever I dressed up as Dee. Anyway I'd need to take four inches off of my waistline to be able to squeeze into her loosest fashions." "Still, it seems to me it'd be worth the effort to try to lose some weight or use figure training corsetry to be able to fit in her clothes. The clothing in the boxes in the garage alone must be worth a small fortune. If you have more of her clothes put away in a storage unit, well, it would save us a ton of money. These clothes of hers don't look cheap, like stuff that comes off of the racks. Most of these clothes look like they're from fancy dress shops." "I know. She amassed closets full over the years and left it all behind in case I had tried to wear any of them. To tell you the truth, I did try, but I couldn't. She must be traveling awfully light on her cruises with her new man. Either that or she doesn't want anything around her that would remind her of me." "Some of this stuff is damned sexy looking! Are you sure you can't fit into any of them?" "I'm positive." "He looked at me with one eyebrow raised." "Oh, what the hell, I tried on every last item she left behind! They don't fit! I'm disgusted with myself over it. She purposely left all of her clothes behind, knowing full well they don't fit me! The bitch! It's another of her ways of gloating over her finally being rid of me after twenty-five years." "Hey, it's her loss, Del. You're a wonderful person. Too bad she couldn't see that. I know it's tough to do, but you have to get over losing her." "I know. The bitch made sure everyone we knew saw the pictures of us, so they'd side with her for leaving me. She claimed it was merely justification for the divorce. Her justification ruined my chances for survival. How can I manage to make ends meet without being able to get a job?" I started to sob. Jim took me into his arms to console me. "Don't worry. I'll cover the financial aspects of your problem for now. You just worry about taking good care of me, and I'll take care of your financial woes for you. My hearing Jim repeat his pledge again was very reassuring, However, I then felt sort of guilty of not being worthy of his willingness to provide for me. "How about giving me a kiss?" He asked. "You'll feel better." A single kiss was a small price to pay to show him my appreciation for his gracious offer to pay all the household bills I couldn't afford. I kissed him with all the ardor I could muster. He kissed me back the same way and ran his hands over my shoulders with small circular caresses that helped me to relax more within his arms. "I swear you kiss more like a girl now then you did on the night we first met. I like that. It shows you're willing to do as I ask regarding the role play. You won't have any trouble crossdressing full time, once your wardrobe arrives. In the meantime, see if you can find a sexy nightgown in one of these boxes to wear to bed." "Why? You don't expect me to go to sleep in the same bed as you. Do you?" "No, but I'll get a charge out of seeing you wear a sheer, sexy nightgown as we watch television together before retiring for the night. You aren't afraid of me. Are you?" "No, I guess not, as long as you keep your hands where they should be." "They should be holding you, showing you how much I appreciate you, for inviting me to stay here with you. You have no idea how expensive living at an extended stay motel is. I'll actually be saving money by staying with you in the long run, enough to be able to afford the clothes I'm buying you." "I guess I can tolerate you're holding me in your arms, as long as you're willing to kiss me again. I have to say, I didn't think I'd ever let a man kiss me, but you make it seem like it's the right thing to do for some reason." "It is the right thing for us to do." We watched a late-night movie together, me in a nightgown and Jim in one of my male robes over his boxer style underwear, talking only during the commercials. The rest of the time we sat silently together on the couch in the living room, sipping sodas and eating the popcorn I'd made at his request. He'd have to bring over some fresh underwear from his motel room, because when his robe slipped open, I noticed he was far too "endowed" to fit into a pair of my underwear, not that he'd ever want to wear my male underwear, though it was not going to of much use to me in the foreseeable future. Jim insisted I wear only feminine attire from the skin out from now on when we were "at home" together! Snuggling with Jim on the couch, hugging him back felt kind of nice, as if he truly cared. It felt reassuring to know my mortgage payment would be made on time. Jim's offer to manage my financial affairs meant a lot to me, after I'd been discarded by my former wife like an old, worn out shoe. With his arm over my shoulder, I felt more than cared for. I felt protected. Jim kissed me again. For the first time in years, I felt the tip of someone's tongue trying to pry my lips open. I hesitated and then let his tongue touch the tip of mine. At the same time, I felt his hand gently touch my chest off to one side, where the mound of a breast would be if I was a woman. His hand felt warm, and not imposing, as if he wanted to wrap me up in his embrace. "We're getting a bit frisky again. Aren't we?" I asked. "Do you really mind? I'll stop if you want," Jim asked in reply. I had to think of what I wanted to say. It felt comforting after a long day. Did I want him to stop? --- "No Jim, I don't mind, not really. I guess my wearing a sheer nightgown after you asked me to put it on, with you wearing one of my robes and little else under it does give you license to tease. We'll appear to the world to be a normal loving couple enjoying a quiet evening together. Incidentally, you smell musky from my body wash when you showered." "When were you sneaking a peek under my robe, nosey?" he asked. "I didn't want to look, but it was right there in front of me at eye level! You flashed me on purpose when you were tying the robe closed while coming out of the bathroom after you took your shower. I couldn't help but notice the obvious prominence of your uh --- male appendage. I'm impressed." "I can see yours right through your diaphanous gown, you know." "Mine isn't as impressive. Is it?" I said it more as a statement rather than a question. "I don't mind. It seems to have shrunk somewhat out of neglect." "Size isn't what matters. Yours will be easier to hide in a tight fitting skirt. Mine can't be hidden as easily. It's one more reason I can't parade around in a dress, like you can. See how lucky you are?" "Will you listen to us? We're comparing batons like a couple of teenagers in a locker room. What difference does it make? We're going into our separate bedrooms tonight to sleep." "To masturbate, you mean." "I don't know what you intend to do when you close your bedroom door, but I'm going to sleep like a baby, now that the payment due on my mortgage has been resolved. I want to thank you again for your generosity, Jim." "Think nothing of it. You'll be saving me money in the long run. Of course, if you'd like, you can return the favor by losing enough weight to fit into those gorgeous clothes out in your garage you ex-wife left behind. Come to think of it, we should bring them inside the house where the humidity level is controlled. If they remain out in the garage too long, they're going to get musty and smell like old socks. I'll help you do that tomorrow. Okay?" "What about your job? Don't you have to work tomorrow?" "I'm way ahead of schedule on the lighting project. At the moment, I have to wait for some of the other mechanicals to catch up. I can afford to take off a few days at a time if I want. I don't have to answer to anyone else except the general contractor's super, and he's pleased as punch with my progress." "That's wonderful. In the morning, after I do some grocery shopping, I'll make you a big breakfast to show you my appreciation." "I'd like that, as long as you don't put on the feed bag with me. I'm serious about you're trying to fit into those clothes your ex left behind." "I hope you're not going to harass me about losing weight, Jim. It isn't wise to go on a starvation diet. I don't know if you've noticed, but I haven't been eating much lately as it is. A substantial breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Except for a hearty breakfast I've just been nibbling on snacks." "No, I'll try to keep my encouraging in check. You don't look overweight to me. You just need to --- lose an inch or two in a few areas. Have you heard about the latest weight loss gimmick?" "Which one, there are several, none of which work?" Well, you go to a salon, get checked out health wise, and then they'll apply low, ultrasonic heat to a targeted area and melt the fat away. Because the process destroys the fat cells in your body completely, wherever they apply the painless, ultrasonic heat, it's supposedly fast, efficient and long-lasting." "I've seen a few billboards advertising the technique along the expressway, but the procedure seems expensive, so I haven't paid any attention to how it works." "Expensive or not, the concept might be worth looking into, if one specific area, like your waistline, for example, can be targeted. You told me that you can't fit into any of your wife's clothes because women's bodies are shaped differently from men's bodies. Is that so?" "Yes ---." "Well, it seems to me, losing weight all over would be counter- productive. I've seen people who try to lose weight by dieting alone. You'd be all skin and bones, and not look healthy if you lost a lot of weight in all the wrong places. With this ultrasound technique you might be able to eat regular and maybe even put on a few pounds in some other key areas while slimming down at the waistline. I mean, I think you'd look great with a bigger tush, hon, and it would be done under a doctor's care." "If I could lose inches from around my gut, without serious dieting, it would be worth looking into. Do you think there's a targeted weight loss program available for men wanting the sleek curves of a sexy looking woman?" "We could check out those billboards you saw on the expressway and make a few inquiries. Or, we could surf the Web. I think I saw something in one of the transgender group monthly magazine about it. Do you subscribe to any?" "No way, my ex would have burned me at the stake for having transgender literature in the house. You know, someday, I'd like to rub her nose in it by wearing one of her most glamourous outfits to some gala affair where I'd photographed. I'd like to see the look on her face when she sees me wearing the clothes she left behind to taunt me, knowing none of her clothes fit me." "Do you think that's why she left her clothes behind?" "I wouldn't put it past her, the vindictive bitch." "Now, is that the way to talk about her? You should be grateful to her. I am. Her pride is going to save me a ton of money if you can wear her castoffs. You already can fit into that nightgown of hers you're wearing tonight." "Yeah, but it's a bit tight at the waistline, and too loose everywhere else." "Like up here, you mean?" He placed his hands over my chest and felt me up jokingly, with his palms over my nipples. I didn't insist he stop because he was only trying to make a point and it felt good, to boot. "You could use a bit more here. In fact a lot more wouldn't be bad, either: like a pair of headlights. Now that you're not restricted by a spiteful wife, you can make any changes you'd like. You can also hire a doctor." "Figure management specialists cost money I don't have." "I can provide you with the money if you'd like. I don't want you to change just to please me, but if you ever want implants, I'll pay for them, gladly." I reluctantly took his hands off of my chest. "I don't want any implants!" Saying that, I turned from him, went to my bedroom and closed the door behind me, leaving him standing in the living room with a grin on his face. 4. The following morning, we had a big breakfast together. Over breakfast, I clarified my feelings on getting implants. From what I'd read, they don't feel natural. I wanted everything about me to feel natural. I agreed to investigate feminizing hormones and how effective they would be as opposed to having surgery. Then, we found some ads for doctors who treat transitioning men. Jim didn't let any grass grow beneath my feet. We made a list, and then we reviewed the doctors on the list. Jim called for an appointment to see one with and office in the immediate area and arranged an appointment for that afternoon. When Jim hung up the phone, I took a deep breath and sighed. It was a big decision. I wouldn't have made it without Jim's encouragement. The doctor saw me in private, at first, and asked a lot of questions. My head was spinning from the pace he set, no fooling around. He had blood drawn by a phlebotomist and the doctor said would be willing to treat me, if I was serious about changing my lifestyle. I told him I was serious, very serious. I don't know why I was so adamant in making my decision, but I was. The doctor then asked Jim to join us in his office. Apparently, doctors know when someone else is going to pay the bills. The doctor included Jim in his instructions on how I should to proceed. He explained: "Dee doesn't want to have any surgery, but she is willing to begin taking feminizing hormones and having ultrasound weight loss treatments. We'll begin as soon as the lab reports come back, if everything is okay. Dee will be seeing me weekly until further notice to receive her shots, select areas for her ultrasound treatments and review her progress. She should arrive at my office dressed femininely from now on, if possible. Is there anything else I can help you with? Do you have any questions at this point in time?" "Not at the moment," I said. Jim just nodded silently, thinking. The doctor then stood up to indicate the appointment had concluded. "I'll see you again a few days from now after I received the results of the tests. My receptionist will call you to let you know when to come in. Have a good day." Whew! It was that fast. Jim looked at me on the way out. "Well dee, you're on your way. Let's get you out of that male attire and into something more appropriate for a blushing bride. How does a makeover sound to you?" I nodded my assent. I needed a diversion from the nervous visit to the new doctor's office that had just concluded. "I'll go for one, I guess, but I don't want you to be spending a lot of money on me, just to make me feel better about altering my physique. If I lose a lot of weight around my middle, and gain some bulk on top from taking hormones, I won't be able to wear men's swimming trunks anymore. I'll probably have to wear a top all the time, and not be able to go anywhere without a shirt on. Maybe this targeted weight loss isn't such a good idea after all, Jim. It's a lot to digest, all of a sudden." "Having second thoughts about altering your physique, are you?" "Yeah I am. My crossdressing was just an occasional fetish until now." "Just keep thinking about all those lovely fashions you'll be able to wear, once your waistline shrinks enough to fit into them. According to what the doctor said, it's painless and takes a lot less time than exercise and dieting." "I'll believe it when I see it." He drove on, not telling me where we were going. Finally, he pulled into an alley behind a store, the name of which I didn't notice, as we passed it. Upon entering the store from the rear parking lot, the proprietress said, "Hi, I'm Rory. What can I do for you today?" Jim promptly responded for me. "Dee would like a complete makeover. We will also like to see a few relatively conservative, complete outfits to fit her, from the skin out. She needs shoes, stockings, the works, including a figure hugging foundation garment, some bras, panties and slips, and well, I'm sure you know what she needs better than I do." "Prices can vary greatly. How large a budget did you have in mind, sir? A complete makeover will cost a hundred dollars plus any wigs she'll need." "Oh, will this cover it?" Jim handed over five one hundred dollar bills to the woman without batting an eye. "If you need more than that, let me know. I'll leave you girls to do what you do for a while and come back in --." "We'll need at least two hours, possible three. I expect you don't want us to rush into making any hasty decisions. Do you?" "Take your time. I'll go do some ---" He stopped and looked into a glass case. "Do you pierce ears here professionally?" "Yes, of course." He looked over at me, standing by sheepishly. Would you like to get your ear pierced, Dee? They have a lot of earrings on display to choose from." "This is so sudden, Jim. Oh, I guess so. Clip-ons are such a pain!" Jim and the woman who called herself, "Rory" nodded in unison. "Done." Three and a half hours later we walked out of the woman's establishment laden down with several packages. I was wearing a full-body corset under a brand new black dress with a slit up the left side that came half way up the thigh. Black nylons held up by a sexy garter belt tugged gently at my legs with every step I took in my new three-inch heels, the tallest heels I ever dared put on. Upon entering the unconventional clothing store to retrieve me Jim stated, "You look good enough to eat, my love!" I swooned over his compliment. No one had ever referred to me as "my love" before. When we left the store after Jim paid the balance of the bill, I feared falling on my face with each careful step I took, watching the seams in the sidewalk, so as not to catch a heel on one. He loaded the trunk with the things he bought for me. Jim had picked what he thought would match my new appearance, which was a lot more striking than I'd expected it to be when I first entered the establishment. Rory's effeminate son did a fantastic job on my makeover, much better than I could have done on my best day. He had shaped my own hair into a cute page boy so I wouldn't need to wear a wig. It enhanced my facial features by framing it with short bangs and spit curls in front of my ears, showing clearly the new studs prominently showing in my pierced earlobes. Sexy! As soon as we were seated in Jim's sports car, he leaned over and kissed me, insinuating a hand between my thighs. I was about to remove his hand when his tongue entered past my lips, mashing into the tip of my tongue, leaving me speechless. I grasped onto his wrist, but being stronger, he slid his hand up to my groin and he noticed that I had a small, but firm erection. "Just as I thought, crossdressing really turns you on! Doesn't it? Great!!!" "Yes, it does. I told you that it did. I thought you knew already, but what do you mean by saying, 'Great', Jim?" "I'd better pay attention to my driving, Dee. I'll explain when we get home." Jim said 'home', as if my house was his own home as well as mine. Maybe he considered it his, seeing as how he was covering the cost of maintaining it. I sat quietly during the entire trip back "home." He pulled into the garage, having taken the remote control for the overhead door from my car already. I didn't even know he had done that, not that it mattered if his snazzy sports car was going to use the only garage space available. "I'll move the boxes into your bedroom for you to unpack as soon as I empty the trunk, Dee. Why don't you brew a pot of tea while I'm busy doing that? Put an apron over your dress so you don't get a spot on it. Would you? I like to see a good looking woman wearing an apron while she's in her kitchen." "Do you really think I'm good looking as a woman, Jim?" I asked. "Are you kidding? You're a knockout, babe! I knew you'd look terrific with the proper help. That guy did a great job on you. Don't you think? "He did. I doubt if I could do as well. I hope you won't be disappointed with what I can do on my own. He's had a lot more experience." "If you'd like, I'll take you back to him to get lessons in applying cosmetics. How's that sound?" "Oh, I don't want to put you to any more expense than necessary, Jim. I feel so glamorous now; I want to shout out to tell the world how gorgeous I feel. I can hardly hold it in. I feel so sexy!" "Come here, babe! Kiss me. Show me you appreciate my willingness to help you look pretty." He grabbed me by the shoulders and pressed his body up against mine as he kissed me hard. I could feel his tumescence up against me as he held me so close. I pulled back swiftly, so he knew I noticed. "See the effect looking like a sexy woman has on me? Wearing sexy women's clothes has the same effect on you. Doesn't it?" "Oh, Jim, you know it does, but you also know I don't want to do anything differently from what I've been doing. Maybe we should each take some time off alone to 'handle' our frustrations." "Are you afraid of me now, Dee? You don't have to be, you know." "No, Jim, of course I'm not." He put his open hand over my crotch, and took my open hand and placed it right over his bulge. "Then, why don't we assist each other in resolving our frustrations from now on." His hand slid back and forth over the bulge in my nylon panty under my black dress, causing my erection to pulse madly. I didn't stop Jim's hand from massaging me. I only told him, "If you don't stop doing what you're doing, and soon, I'm going to ruin my new dress." He took me into his arms and kissed me again with his arms wrapped around my shoulders. I heard the almost silent whish if the zipper on the back of my dress as he undid it, stopping only to untie the apron I had placed over the dress to avoid soiling the dress with a spill. I let Jim take the apron off me, and then felt the dress slipping down to my shoes, so I could step out of it. That left me wearing only my black corselet and panty set, a garter belt and black seamless stockings. I kicked my shoes off to avoid catching a heel on my dress as he picked it up and set it over the back of a kitchen chair. "Let's go to the living room, where we can be more comfortable." I nodded silently, curious about what he'd do next. Jim led me to the living room and placed my thinner arms over his shoulders. His two large hands went straight to my pantied rump and squeezed them, causing me to let out all the air inside of my lungs in a gasp. It felt so-o-o- o good! His groin crushed up against mine, and I felt my orgasm spend into my new panties. I'd given in to him and let him take me without putting up a fight. Jim got me off just by dry humping me, standing face-to-face in the middle of the living room. "You know what you just did, don't you, Jim?" "Uh-huh! I could feel every pulse. I hope it was better than letting you go off on your own to resolve your pent-up passion. Of course, you know I haven't cum yet. Don't you, Dee? I can't get over how horny you've made me." "Yeah, I know. I can guess what you want me to do now, too." "It shouldn't take too much --- encouragement on your part, you know." "I suppose. Our getting so excited was probably my fault, with my looking so sexy wearing that little black dress you bought for me." "Yes, you look divine in it, so sexy ---" "I suppose I look enough like a woman that you want me to do something a woman would do for you right now. Is that it?" "I would --- But I won't insist, if you don't want to." "I suppose I could, just this one time, to show my appreciation for all you've done for me and are offering to do." I undid his belt buckle, undid the button and zipper of his loose pants and let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of the pants, kicking them away, kicking off his loafers at the same time. I slid my forefingers under the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down, exposing his hard erection. It was far larger than mine, impressively larger. The mushroom head was as big as a plum. I wondered if I'd be able to fit it into my mouth, at all. I kissed the head and it lurched up toward my face. I slowly sank down onto my knees and let the firm shaft of it sit against my cheek for a moment. Then I kissed it again, marveling at how it smelled, musky, but not disgustingly so, as I had imagined it would be. He backed away from me slowly and sat down on the edge of the couch with his legs apart, fully extended. I saddled up to him on my knees, and set my arms on top of his thighs, sighing contentedly. I looked up into his face. His eyes were closed, waiting patiently, unwilling to rush me to doing anything. I opened my mouth wide and let the head of Jim's cock slip past my lips and teeth. I sucked on it gently, surprised that firm cock felt like any other part of a person, male or female, just warm, spongy flesh. He put his hands on top of my head and urged me to take more of his warm flesh into my mouth. He didn't force his length into me, and just let me set the pace and depth of my acceptance of his penal penetration. Surprisingly, sucking on Jim's cock felt almost rewarding to me, as if I was accomplishing a worthy task. Once the head of his cock reached the back of my mouth, I didn't want to release it. "Hey, take it easy. There's no hurry, honey!" He called me 'honey', a term of endearment. His hands moved my head up and down. "That's the way!" I continued to lap away at his growing cock making as much surface contact with my cheeks and tongue as I could. I could feel his shaft grow inside my mouth until I heard him say, "Get ready to back off, when I tell you to." "Now!" I backed off and the first jet of semen hit my lips as I was backing away. The second jet hit me on the cheek and closed eye. The successive jets sprayed onto my neck and upper chest. The flow was copious. I let the first jet slip from my lips, tasting it. It was salty, but not repulsively distasteful. I looked up and saw Jim smiling down on me. "You did great, for a novice." "That was a first for me, you know," I admitted. "You were wonderful, darling." He pulled me up beside him on the couch and kissed me, sucking up a bit of his warm semen from off of my cheek. "Doesn't the thought of what is on my face bother you?" "Why should it bother me? It is mine, after all. Haven't you ever tasted a bit of your own spent sperm before? I'll bet you sucked some out of your wife's cunny after sex at one time or another." "Don't remind me, but that was light years ago. When she divorced me, she left me with nothing but hatred and resentment for her. Another man has her love now, and he's more than welcome to it." "I don't believe a single word you just said and neither do you. You're still in love with her, even after how she treated you over of your fetish during the divorce proceedings. Luckily for me, I was around to catch you on the rebound, because I don't have a problem with your crossdressing, Dee. In fact, I don't care to see you wearing male clothes ever again." "What if I tire of masquerading as a woman? It's a possibility, you know." "It may be selfish of me, but I want you to indulge in your clothing fetish --- permanently, so you can be my girl, a girl with something extra. For as long as we'll be living together I'll want you to continue to dress as a woman for me, so our neighbors don't catch on that we're two men living together." "Why do you insist on my dressing as a woman, Jim? Permanently is a long time. I don't know if I want to pose as a woman all the time, from now on." "It's for your own good, Dee. Being transgendered is becoming more and more tolerable these days, but there are still a lot of homophobes out there who will stop at nothing to punish you for being --- different. You know it, don't you? Gay bashing is a terrible, senseless crime, and it's hard to bring perpetrators to justice because the general population doesn't care enough about the rights of people who prefer to follow an alternative lifestyle." "But, you know that I'm not gay, leastwise I wasn't until a few minutes ago. Up until I gave in, to please you orally, I was a one woman man, even if my ex was totally unresponsive to me." "Dee, now you can become a one-man woman instead, my woman. I want to have someone I can take out to a ball game, or out to dinner without looking over my shoulder all the time for some lunatic intent on bashing your brains in. I don't want you to have to live in fear because of me, either, wondering if someone has a bug up his ass about the two of us living together. "Crossdressing part-time can be risky business. People around us will figure out you're a guy eventually if you dress as a male one day and a as female the next. It will be safer for you if you dress as a woman all the time, so your birth gender will remain secret. Consistency is the key. "That's why it's wise of you to consult a doctor about transitioning. Taking feminizing hormones, your mannerisms will improve to the point of your not being able to be read as a male under any circumstances. You won't have to fret over slipping up and spilling the beans someday, and your cleavage will eventually be totally authentic, to boot, and not feel artificial." "Yes, I'll have breasts of my own. I'd like that. I always wondered how it'd feel to need to wear a bra all the time. You know, my dressing up isn't just a superficial expression. I enjoy feeling feminine through and through. With a slimmer waistline and a full bosom, and rounder rump, I could go anywhere, do anything and feel totally at ease in my feminine guise. I can hardly wait." "As long as we're discussing what we'd enjoy, consider that you could also relate to me as a woman would, as often as you'd like, in every respect. If you adopt a feminine guise, it wouldn't be gay for us to be --- affectionate." "That's a far stretch of the imagination, Jim. Are you suggesting we should become deeply, emotionally attached, as in being in puppy love?" "Nothing would please me more. There's no law against two people of the same gender being in love. In fact, many states, including our own, allow same sex marriages these days. Society has evolved, acknowledging the reality that two people of like gender can ---" "I like you Jim, I really do, but there's a difference between liking someone and loving someone. Maybe, in due time, our fondness for each other may gradually increase, but I doubt if we'll ever fall in love with one another." "Maybe not, but I have a sincere --- admiration for you, Dee. You know that. If I didn't, I wouldn't have offered to cover all our mutual living expenses. Two people can live just as cheaply as one, as long as one of them doesn't eat, you know." Jim was trying to make a joke of what he was inferring, but it was a feeble attempt under the circumstances. "We'll be living here together like a normal couple until you find a suitable job, Dee. We could take it a step further, if you'd like to, you know. I'd like you to wear a ring that indicates you and I are faithful to one another as two people living together should be. If you wear it for me, people around us will assume we're a normal couple in love, even if it's a temporary arrangement until you can get back onto your feet again." "Sure, I'll wear your ring. You can even tell people we're engaged, if you'd like. Wearing a ring will avoid the hassle of being hit on by other guys, now that I had a makeover and look half-way decent as a woman." "You think you only look half way decent? That's a laugh. You're gorgeous! Leastwise, I think you're gorgeous. You underestimate yourself, Dee." "It's all the more reason for wearing an engagement ring from you. If other guys see the ring, they'll keep their distance, knowing we're betrothed." Somehow, the two of us slid around on the couch so our bodies were prone, facing one another, touching in all the right places. I let Jim kiss me again and again, wanting the magic of the moment to last forever. I felt wanted. It felt good to be wanted, even if it I was wanted as a woman by another man. For some reason I didn't mind the insistent probing of his manhood on mine. 5. Three days later, in the morning, I received a phone call from the doctor's office. The receptionist and I agreed upon a full schedule of appointments spanning several weeks for my hormone injections and the body sculpting ultrasound treatments. Jim heard me talking on the phone and walked up as I ended the call. He took me into his arms and asked, "Are you still up for it?" "I still have reservations, but I might as well be up for it because I just made appointments for the next two months." I leaned back against his chest as he stood behind me, rubbing my hair against it. His large hands came over my shoulders and rested on my flat chest under my new bra. "I wonder how long it will take for you to show some sign of progress up here." "Aren't my falsies hiding my flat chest enough for you?" "They aren't very satisfying, come to think of it. You need the real thing." "Are you a 'tit' man, Jim?" "Not necessarily, anything more than a mouthful is a waste, you know." "You sound exactly like a straight man is talking right now, Jim." "We will be almost straight, once the hormones kick in, you know." "You know, you know, you know, is that all you can say?" "Why are you upset with me? Are we having our first lover's spat, Dee?" "What if we are? I'm about to alter how I'll appear from now on, possible irreversibly and even that doesn't seem to please enough. You're taking my decision in stride. It isn't your body that's going to change dramatically. You'll still look the same as you always did. Me? I don't know what is to become of me, except I won't be able to recognize who I am. Maybe I won't like having a big bottom, a small waist and big tits! I don't even know how I'm going to react to men ogling me when I'll bend over to fetch something from the floor. This isn't going to be as easy as I thought it would be. What if I turn out looking butt ugly? Call up the doctor's office. I want to cancel!" "Shh! Easy, baby, I'll love you, no matter how good or bad this turns out. You know I will." "I hope so! Otherwise, who'll have me? I'll be different. Okay, so I want to look different, so you'll like me more. I want to look sexier for you, to keep my secret, but not knowing how I'll look with a slimmer, sexy looking body is unnerving. Will my male facial features give my secret away? I hope not! Damn! This is too nerve wracking! I wish I never started crossdressing in the first place. Why'd I ever start? I should have known this would happen." I continued to rant and rave. Jim tried to console me but he wasn't close by, not enough to be effective at it, because the volume of my ranting continued to increase. I heard him talking on the phone in the living room and caught snippets of his side of the conversation. I heard, "Panic, gun fever, ranting." He came back into the kitchen and told me, "Put your makeup on and comb your hair the way Toni showed you, with a bang up in front. We have to be at the doctor's office in half an hour. He wants to see you right away." I tried to tell him I didn't want to go, but he added, "Either you put on your happy face and comb your hair, or I'll do it for you! The doctor said he only wants to talk to you about your transitioning. Maybe he has some insights we don't know about. How should I know? You asked me to call his office, so I did. What do want from me, Dee? I did as you asked." "Okay, okay! We'll go already. Give me five minutes." It took me ten. We arrived at the doctor's office a little behind schedule. The doctor told me the blood tests were all supportive, and I didn't have any STD's. He added, "I can start administering the hormone injections right now if you'd like, or we can wait. You won't notice any changes in your appearance for some time from receiving the initial shots, so getting them now won't keep you from changing your mind, if that's what concerns you. You can still drop out of the program if you don't want to continue. Once we begin the ultrasound treatments, you may want to consult with me first, before quitting, so your waistline won't look lop- sided. We treat one area at a time, you see." "You might as well administer the first hormone shot now, doc, before I can change my mind. I'm having second thoughts about this." He gave me a shot in my arm and asked me to lie down on the examination table in the cubicle. When I woke up, I felt an odd tenderness and throbbing in my nipples. "How do you feel, Delores?" the doctor asked me. "A bit sore, what happened?" "I want you to have an idea what it will feel like, once your mammeries start to develop. I administered collagen directly into your nipples so you'll know what it's like to have some heft on your chest constantly as your new breasts develop. You may touch them if you'd like. The collagen will dissipate over time, perhaps in six months or less, as if never there. It will take a little while for you to get accustomed to the feeling of having a semblance of breasts, so you'll be able to determine if you want to continue the program. They'll feel somewhat sensitive to you for a while, as if they were beginning to sprout." "They feel immense!" "Of course, but that's only because you aren't familiar with the sensation of having protruding nipples. Once the swelling from intrusion recedes, you'll be able to feel tactile sensations similar to those a woman feels. Developing breasts by receiving hormone injections will take several months. I want you to feel some of the sensations a woman feels now, so you'll know what to expect as your mammeries slowly develop. If you can't tolerate having large breasts, we can stop at any time, and they will gradually recede, just like the collagen I've injected into your nipples. The major difference will be that you will have plump masses showing, not very large, but they'll be breasts, nonetheless. For a man of your age and general stature to grow abundant breasts we'll have to provide them to you surgically via implants." "Are they supposed to throb so noticeably?" "The mild throbbing you feel is the result of being injected with a foreign substance. It will slowly subside. Try to not think about the throbbing." "Why? I sort of like the sensation, doc." "You needn't worry. Your nipples will continue to feel sensitive to the touch after the temporary swelling goes away. There's a direct connection between the nerves within the breasts and those surrounding your groin. Having your nipples stimulated should provide you with similar sensations at your groin." I reached up and touched the darker puffy area around one of my protruding nipples. He was right. My cock pulsed slightly from my touching the nipple. "I see what you mean." "Many men in transition experience second thoughts. Having pert reminders of your eventual goal will enable you to set aside those reservations you're having. By the way, I decided to administer your initial hormone injections while you are here. No sense our putting it off and incurring the customary fee for an additional office visit. My fees cost your lover plenty as it is." "Jim isn't my lover, doc. I merely sublet a room in my house to him. He feels it's best if the neighbors around us think we're a normal couple." "Oh, I see. In any event, you ought to show your appreciation to him for his willingness to help you pass. My immediate response appointments don't come cheap. They play havoc with my regularly scheduled appointments. Whatever arrangement the two of you have is of no concern to me, but it seems to me that Jim and you are not on the same wavelength, Delores." Obviously, the doctor didn't believe what I said to him about Jim being a tenant in my house. "I'll straighten Jim out about this right away." "I'm sure you will, but tell him to take it easy on your nipples for at least two to three more days. They'll be tender. He can touch them if he'd like, but no heavy petting. Tell him I said so!" He smiled, suggestively. I felt as if he wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said, so I didn't try to convince him that I'm straight. If he wants to believe I'm gay, it doesn't matter to me. I know I'm not, and that's all that matters. I'll have to give Jim 'what for' for giving the doctor the impression we are a gay couple. Putting my slightly padded bra on over the protruding nipples took a bit of concentration. They were sensitive! Once it was on though, I welcomed the protection it provided as I put on my blouse over it. The pain in my rump as I stood up reminded me that the doctor had given me my first hormone shots while I was napping on his examination table. I was on my way to lady land. Jim came in. I suppose the doctor told him I was ready to be taken home. "Did you ask the doctor to inject my nipples with collagen, Jim? What's the big idea? Don't look at me that way! They hurt, well, they're sensitive!" "I didn't ask him to do anything, Dee. I just told him you were freaking out on me this morning. Whatever he did, it was his idea, not mine." "Well, my nipples are sore as can be, and you're not supposed to manhandle them for a few days. Where did the doctor get the idea that I'd let your play around with my breasts? He was very specific about it." "How should I know? Do you suppose he thinks we're a gay couple?" "Duh! Bingo! That's what it seems like to me. He told me to tell you that you could play with them in a few days, but not before. He didn't seem to think I wouldn't let you play with them; in fact, he gave me instructions on when and how you should." "Maybe there's a reason they should be manipulated. I don't know." "Oh, sure, and you'd be willing to do the manipulating, I suppose." "Were you thinking of having somebody else manipulate them for you? Can I see them? They don't look swollen to me from here." "They may not look very swollen to you, but they sure feel swollen. I have half a mind to throw you out on your ear, Jim." "Why? What did I do?" "You're the one who insists I dress as Dee, so the neighbors will think I'm a woman. I was quite content, living in my new house as Del. You convinced me to get ultrasound tummy treatments so I can fit into my ex-wife's clothes that are three to four sizes too small for me. The doctor you picked out to do the treatments thinks we're gay. I sure didn't suggest it. You must have." "We picked out the doctor together, both of us, not just me, you may recall. You're beginning to sound like a henpecking wife, and I barely got to first base with you." "Oh, now we're playing baseball! In which inning were you planning to hit a home run? I see you're all set to steal second base. The umpire gave me very specific instructions on how you should proceed. I think he's biased because he knows you're paying his bill." "That's not fair, Dee. If you don't want to share your place with me, just say so and I'll move back out. I'm sure I'll be able to find another crossdresser to replace you, maybe one better looking than you are, not that you care." "Oh? What is that supposed to mean? Are you suggesting I'm not pretty enough for you to be seen with in public?" "I never said that, Dee!" "Then why don't you go find a real woman? There must be tons available who will service you sexually as long as you keep them in frocks, Jim!" "A long time ago, I swore to my dearly departed wife I would never take up with another woman for as long as I live. I don't take my oaths, lightly, Dee. Living alone since my wife passed away, I get very lonely at times. I'm not about to go back on my vow to my wife and live with another woman. You look like one, talk like one, and you kiss like one, but you're a guy, as much a guy as I am, so living with you doesn't violate the vow I made to my wife. "I was positive we'd be able to live together without becoming physically involved, but you look damned sexy in a dress, I can't help wanting to----. Don't you see? You claim you aren't gay. Well, I can say the same thing, but the fact is: you turn me on like no woman except for my wife, ever has." "I didn't know, Jim, about your promise to your wife, I mean." "You have no idea how I feel about you, knowing you agreed to lose weight for me just to be able to fit into your ex-wife's elegant dresses, so I wouldn't have to spend a lot of money on providing you with a feminine wardrobe." "As long as we're being honest, Jim, I want you to know I didn't agree to see a weight loss doctor just for you, Jim. I did it mainly because I want to be able to fit into my wife's expensive dresses to get back at her for cheating on me. I started to crossdress to get off manually, because I was cut off by my ex, but now, crossdressing helps me deal with the stark reality of being rejected, thought of as a fool.. I needed something to assuage my ego, after she cut me off, even by doing something regarded as flamboyantly irregular. "Then, one evening, while I was out trying to be noticed, you came along and surprised me by kissing me, giving me a new reason for crossdressing." "We clicked, Dee. I know we would. I knew it the moment I saw you in that gay bar in all your glory." "I never expected a man would sweep me off my feet with a simple kiss, but you did, you know. I didn't even want to be swept off my feet at the time." "You almost begged me to kiss you that night, Dee." "I know. I didn't want to admit to myself that I found another man attractive. I didn't want to be gay, but I couldn't help myself, Jim. That's why I agreed to let you live with me at my place. I wanted to be near you, Jim." "I feel the same way about you, Dee. With you, I feel like I'm not violating my fervent promise to my departed wife, because we can't have sex like a man and woman normally have sex. We can do a lot of other things, but not the one act of love that only a man and a woman can do together." "We can do a lot of other things, you said. Never in a million years would I have believed I'd ever provide oral sex to another man, Jim, but with you, it seemed --- natural. I set my male pride aside and I did it. I actually wanted to give you that blowjob, surprising myself by my sudden willingness. "I tried to convince myself I had to do it because it was the only way I could show you my appreciation for your bailing me out of a financial crisis, but in reality, I wanted to do what any woman in love normally does for her man when she can't have normal sex with him. I want to be as much of a woman as I can for you, Jim, because I know you don't want me to remind you that I'm another man. That's why you want me to crossdress for you. Isn't it?" "Yes, Dee, that's why." He took me into his arms and kissed me with a lot of tongue. He whispered, "I want you to become as much of a woman as you'll dare to be, the sexier, the better." "Would you like me to? I don't have a heavy beard, but shaving everywhere is a big bother. Could I have laser or electrolysis treatments to eliminate all the hair on my body permanently, so I won't have a five o'clock shadow?" "Sure, after you have your ultrasound treatments, you can, and after you're on hormones for a while, because the feminizing hormones may lessen the amount of body hair you will have zapped away." "Have you been studying the effects of transitioning men taking hormones?" "Yeah, sort of, while you were getting your makeover, I was reading a book on how to live with a transvestite. I'd like for you to get an elaborate tramp stamp with my name in it, indicating that you're my sex toy or something to that effect. How about it? Interested? "I'd much rather you would do something to show you're attached to me, Jim. After all, I'm doing an awful lot of stuff for your benefit. Am I not?" "You are. What do you suggest?" "How about wearing a gold ring on your third finger left hand, to show that you're spoken for? Let our neighbors know you belong to me, too." I could do that. Sure, why not? Say, did the doctor tell you that I couldn't manhandle your oversized clit for you? He said I should give your swollen nipples a rest for a few days, but I'd like to grasp your penis again, to gauge how big it is before you start taking the hormones." "Why?" "According to the book I was reading, your penis and gonads are going to shrink from ingesting feminine hormones, long term. You may eventually be able to experience multiple, feminine orgasms instead of ejaculating like a man does. As I recall, you aren't as well- endowed as I am to begin with. You want to know what it's like to be a woman, well maybe you'll be able to respond to sexual stimulus like a woman does after months on hormones." "You're kidding, of course." "No, I'm not. It's exciting. Isn't it? Think of it, multiple, feminine orgasms." "Maybe I was being hasty. This transitioning may be too exciting." "Having second thoughts again?" "Yes. I am. I won't renege on our agreement, though. I just didn't expect the changes involved to be so dramatic, Jim. I don't want to lose the ability to ejaculate! Are you sure I won't be able to?" "Oh, from what I read, the trade-off is more than worth it because of you'll be able to have repetitive waves of extended pleasure, something like a roller coaster ride. I wonder what that would be like. Don't you? You'll find out, soon enough, won't you babe from my tickling your little clit for you? "We made an agreement, Dee. I paid off your mounting debts and covered your one mortgage payment in arrears so the bank doesn't foreclose as soon as it might have, and I'll continue to pay it. I want you to become my sexy bit of fluff, Dee. If you expect me to continue to pay all of the household's living expenses, I expect you to fulfill your part of the bargain. I can promise you that you'll enjoy every step along the way to becoming my live-in sexy love doll, with curves a Barbie Doll would envy." Jim kissed me again and his warm hand slid down in between my thighs again. This time I didn't resist him. He wanted to check out the size of my male package, so I let him. He slid my panties down under my testes and took my man meat into his hand, stroking it gently. It didn't take him very long to bring me off frenziedly. I felt like a female love slave being toyed with by a dominant master, unable to resist out of fear of his reprisal. I was surprised by how hard I ejaculated, all over his hand, kissing him hard to let him know he pleased me immensely. I wanted to be subjugated, controlled by him in every way, even to the point of completely altering my existence. All of a sudden, the back of his hand was at my mouth, covered in my spent sperm. Jim expected me to lick the sperm off of his hand. Sheepishly, I let my tongue dip into the cream. It was warm and a bit salty. He pushed his hand against my lips, and I sucked and licked it until it was damp, and not sticky. Then, he surprised me and kissed me again, with tongue, sharing my spent sperm with me. We stretched out on the couch, and he got on top of me, kissing me, mashing my swollen nipples against his strong chest. His cock slid into the crease in my clenched thighs, and he rode me like a man possessed until he ejaculated between my clenched thighs, soaking my panties and the couch with spend. He then rolled me over on top of him, so his spend wouldn't soil the couch more. His firm hard cock was still insinuated in my crotch, so I gently rode it up and down and savored the sensation of being the woman penetrated by her possessive man. Eventually, his tumescence subsided and we cuddled together on the couch, with me clinging onto Jim, marveling how great it felt to be fucked like a woman; his hands on my butt, pulling me down onto him. 6. The following day, Jim returned to work, leaving me with instructions for an exercise routine he wanted me to perform some time during the day while he was away at work. I did the routine twice; once in the morning, and again in the afternoon, with more reps done during the afternoon session. The routine included lots of sit-ups to strengthen my abs, and push-ups to strengthen my shoulders. Other exercises concentrated on stretching my thighs, calves and feet to be able to stand for extended periods of time in high-heeled shoes, or so he claimed. I worked up a fairly decent sweat during the second routine, so I needed a shower by the time Jim was due to return home. He arrived home just as I was drying off from my long, hot shower. He said I should have waited for him, so we could wash each other's backs. I would have waited for him, had I known, just to see Jim's tight butt cheeks naked in the shower. He has a firm tush that reminds me of an Olympian runner. The following day, I had another appointment at the doctor's office. My pill prescriptions were ready to be picked up, and I also had my first ultrasound treatment. The treatment took about an hour and it wasn't painful at all. It was boring, because I had to lie on my back with an attendant running a prod over my greased waistline. It seemed like a farce, because I didn't notice any change at all. The technician explained that the destroyed fat cells where she applied the wand would be slowly carried away by my circulatory system. We fell into a monotonous routine. I'd get up in the morning and cook Jim a hearty breakfast, and have a piece or two of dry toast, because I was having stomach cramps and couldn't eat much in the early mornings. Oh, well. Then, I scoured the want ads in the morning newspaper for a job while Jim got ready for work, finding nothing noteworthy, day after day. I gave up on finding a job after a while because nothing ever came of my searching the want ads. I felt as if I was in limbo, my figure not looking very womanly yet, but less and less like a man, standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror to put on my makeup, checking out the collagen injections in my nipples. Part of our ritual was my seeing Jim off for work at the door with a kiss. Jim thought I looked good enough dressed in a bathrobe in the morning to let the neighbors see me in my feminine guise. He insisted I wear one of my ex's demibras that exposed my puffy nipples, so he could play with them at will. I didn't mind being felt up, in fact, having Jim caress my protruding nipples at every turn gave me wonderful thrills deep down inside that cursed though my body like nothing I had ever felt. Maybe transitioning would be good for me after all. I was glad the doctor decided to provide me with a head start at the very beginning. Having large, sensitive nipples made it more difficult to reverse course and run for the hills. I let my hair grow out to save a few dollars at the barber. Jim wanted me to get a permanent wave instead of a haircut, and permanent eye makeup so he wouldn't have to wait for me to enhance my drab eyes to see him off every morning. He also wanted me to have the areas around my nipples darkened and enlarged to make them look more prominent in my demibras. Although my body hadn't changed a lot in that first month, my attitude had. We bickered less once I stopped objecting to Jim's constantly feeling me up. With the feminizing hormones coursing through my system, I enjoyed his playfulness more. His fingers slowly stroking my flesh made me feel more alive. I resolved to set aside my reservations about being gay. After all, if I was becoming woman for him, or even masquerading as one, our petting couldn't be considered homosexual. Could it? What I was doing with Jim wasn't any different from what many women do with men and Jim treated me just as if I was a woman, his woman. I love wearing my new, expensive corsets Jim ordered for me on line. They slim me down so I look superb wearing a tight-fitting cocktail dress. The Elizabethan corsets rearrange my innards so I can fit into at least a few of my former wife's lovely castoffs. I now sleep in special corsets designed to coax my diminishing waistline to conform to their tapered shape while I'm fast asleep, keenly aware of having one on, constant reminding me of my present stature, a kept quasi woman, cared for by a loving man, instead of being a neglected husband with a cheating, vindictive wife. Life is good. Jim loves to suckle on my collagen enhanced nipples, and I love to have him do it. His rapt attention to my nipples excites me most exquisitely, giving me cause to want to reciprocate in kind by fellating him. I simply ignore all the implications of being a wanton slut for wanting to please him orally. Many women do it without inviting retribution. Why can't I? My cock is starting to shrink from the weekly shots I'm getting from the doctor and it doesn't get very hard anymore. It still feels great when he plays with it or kisses the tip of it for me. He calls it my "little clit" because he claims it looks so cute. My little gonads have shrunk as well, due to something the doctor calls an anti-androgen he has me taking along with my daily estrogen supplements. If they get any smaller, I'll be able to hide them inside of my body cavity, along with my shriveled up penis, so I can wear a skimpy bikini bathing suit without exposing my true gender. We haven't gone to the beach yet, because my tiny breasts haven't filled out yet, but Jim promises to take me to a local hotel with a swimming pool so he can show me off to his friends from work. We usually go grocery shopping together because Jim enjoys groping my plump buns where the men around us can watch him play. He gloats over how wide my tush is getting from the weekly hormone injections I've been getting. He swears I that act more and more womanly each week right after my receiving my "booster shots." Jim calls them my "hooter shots." I can't wait to visit the doctor each week because I feel so dreamy after he administers my weekly shots. Lately the doctor has been examining me for inordinate lumps in my small breasts. He claims transwomen have a higher incidence of breast cancer, so he manipulates my mammeries admiringly. His gentle stroking gives me goose bumps and makes my little "clit" tingle like crazy. While he's examining me, I sometimes wonder if I should check his pants to see if he gets as excited as I do from his prodding my breasts. Jim looks on without commenting when he sits in on my receiving my shots as if it's perfectly normal for a doctor to be so attentive to his patients. This week the doctor toyed with my tiny penis and testes with Jim looking on, explaining to Jim why they are so small now. He suggested I get a few hidden stitches to enhance my groin's appearance, saying it wouldn't impair my sensitivity any and would enable me to wear scanty panties without any telltale bulge to divulge my masculine origin. I don't look very manly now, anyway, and the doctor assured us the entire procedure would be painless to me, because it could be performed while I'd be sedated. Jim then asked my doctor if he would perform the procedure personally. My doctor said he could, but would prefer to call in a specialist who is excellent at removing excessive groin hair, leaving a tantalizing looking landing strip in its place. That got my attention. I'd love to be rid of the itchy hair around my penis. Jim claimed the coarse hair irritated his nose when paying homage to my "pudenda," so we were all in agreement about using the specialist. We all chuckled over Jim's descriptive reference to my miniscule appendage. 7. Jim and the doctor left me alone to get dressed and went into his office to discuss the financial arrangements for what the doctor had recommended. What I missed out on hearing was the quick discussion they had about my getting minimal permanent makeup applied while I was under anesthesia. When I woke up after having my tiny cock tucked away, I noticed the area around my nipples looked larger, darker and puffier than before. Whoever modified my groin's appearance also modified the appearance of my soft, small mammeries. I couldn't complain because they looked much nicer with a bit of additional color and heft. Besides, what good would my complaining do, seeing as how it had already been done and it couldn't be reversed? I assumed the groin stitching could be reversed someday, if and when I ever stopped receiving feminizing drugs on a weekly and daily basis. My entire groin was heavily bandaged and was I catheterized, so I was unable to use a toilet normally until the bandages and catheter would be removed. I didn't feel any pain at all from what had been done, as the doctor had assure me, so I was confident I'd have a quick recovery. I looked forward to examining my flat muff. The doctor stopped by to examine my vitals every day and assured me everything went according to plan. I'd probably be released in a few days. I could hardly wait to see the results. Anticipation is a bitch! As promised, when the bandages were removed and the area exposed to me with the use of a hand held mirror, I realized my testicles couldn't be seen. "Where are my testicles?" I asked. "Oh, they're there alright, up inside where they can't impair the smoothness of your feminine appearance. We trimmed excess skin from your scrotum to afford the camel toe you now project. The tip of your penis is exposed at the base of the camel toe, so you'll be able to urinate normally, but you'll have to sit down to pee from now on, of course." "But, of course! How silly of me to think otherwise. However, I didn't think it would be necessary when we discussed the procedure a week ago, doc. Is there any way I can still pee standing up? Getting undressed and sitting to do my business is going to be strange getting used to." "You can try to stand up if you'd like, but aiming is going to pose a problem using that tiny nub. You'll get accustomed to sitting down in no time at all. Might I also suggest that you get used to douching regularly. The enclosed area immediately above your hidden penis should be rinsed every time you bathe to avoid infection. I must say, the specialist did a great job. Your groin area looks exactly like a woman's vagina now, including the slim arrow of hair she left to point the way to it, except for the location of the protruding head of your diminutive penis, of course." "Of course," I repeated. "It does resemble a vagina. Doesn't it?" "That was the intended objective. You can go anywhere you'd like wearing the skimpiest bikinis with aplomb. Your ultrasound sculpted contours enable you to sashay to your heart's content, and on one would ever guess you had ever been anything but a gorgeous bit of eye candy. I was impressed by the skill of your cosmological specialist, especially. She did your makeup so effortlessly, and so quickly, and so subtly, I was amazed." "What cosmetologist? I do my own makeup. You needn't have bothered to bring in a cosmetologist to put my makeup on. I'm used to doing it myself." "You're missing the point. You won't waste precious minutes of Jim's time every morning waiting for you while you apply makeup yourself anymore. The cosmetologist has applied complimentary permanent color to enhance your eyelids while she was removing the excess hair from your groin area and your thick male eyebrows." "She did?" I picked up the hand mirror and looked at my face. "She did! Holy cow! How am I going to go out in public as a male with this makeup?" "When was the last time you went out in public as a male?" "It's true, I haven't, not for a few months, but I may still want to!" "Jim has arranged for the cosmetologist to teach you how to minimize your eye makeup and fill out your brows to look manly if you'd like, though your 'boobs' are going to be more difficult to disguise now that they've begun to fill out. How do you intend to disguise your tiny waistline?" "I didn't think of that. It'll be difficult. I'd have to wear padding, I guess." "Even padded, you'll still look like a woman. Your hair is too long to be styled in a manly manner. Face it, Dee. You can forget about appearing in public as a male from now on." "Wow! I don't suppose I can go skinny dipping with the guys now. Can I? "Joke if you'd like. You can, but you'd better be prepared to get groped a lot and give a lot of head, if you dare to go swimming with men in the nude. You look like a wet dream walking now, you know." "Do I? Is that what Jim thinks of me, now? Have I changed that much?" "What do you think? Making you over into the epitome of feminine sexiness was his original objective. Wasn't it? He didn't ever try to deceive you about what he wanted to accomplish. Did he?" "No he didn't, I knew what he had in mind, but I didn't think I'd be able to fulfill his expectations so admirably. I look like a fox now with these smoky looking eyes and my curvy torso. Even my plump derriere is as alluring as any woman's I've ever seen anywhere. All I need is some base makeup and rouge to highlight my complexion and a bit of lip color and I'm good to go!" "You'll be good to go alright--- go to bed with Jim, and you'll want to, you know. The pocket immediately up above your tiny penis created by bonding your modified scrotal skin together with surgical mucilage can accommodate Jim's erect penis, if you'll train it properly. Your insistent male lover will be making direct contact with the entire length of your tiny hidden penis. You'll enjoy being penetrated as if you're masturbating, which you won't be able to manage doing by yourself anymore. You will be able to enjoy having sex as a woman would. That's what the specialist was able to accomplish I couldn't have provided for you. You should be thankful for my foresight." I guess I'm fucked now, or I will be, in more ways than one." "Yes, you will, in your new vaginal tract created by modern chemistry. The chemical agent bonding your scrotal skin together was originally intended for affixing synthetic skin tissue created in laboratories to replace destroyed skin of severe burn victims. It's extremely resilient. The seam resembling a woman's vagina will eventually heal painlessly except at the open aperture immediately up above your penis, without using any sutures or staples. "I had no idea what you two were planning, doc. What I had agreed to was a simple cosmetic procedure to disguise my manly bulge, to enable me to wear my wife's skimpiest outfits without being detected. I'm very impressed with the smooth appearance of my new vulva, but what if I refuse to provide Jim access to this convenient new sperm receptacle?" "Interestingly enough, everyone's body is equipped with thousands of neural transmitters and receptors between all the erogenous zones, lips, breasts and the principal reproductive organs. The hormones you've been receiving over the past few months have heightened your inherent sensitivity to stimulation. Sufficient stimulus results in an autonomic response. You'll find it difficult to resist responding to tactile stimuli, and your most alluring attributes will now be on display to provide sufficient Jim with the --- temptation. "Your pert, protruding nipples and your exquisite facial features, along with your beautifully permed blonde hair and the enticing contrast between your thin waistline and bulging hips will attract a lot of attention from every man who will see you strutting your stuff, whether you want to attract attention or not. You are fortunate indeed to have a loving man who cares for you dearly and is willing to provide you with the protection you'll need from prowling, indiscriminate pursuers. Trust me, I'm a happily married man, and you make me wish I was a younger, available man once again. I thank you for that." "Doctor! Remember you're a professional!" "I'm trying! Believe me, I'm trying. You may dress to receive a visitor now, if you'd like. Jim has been right outside your room awaiting my permission to see you for quite a while. You'll soon discover what I meant about your autonomic response mechanism when he massages your luscious looking orbs for you. You'll want him to dry hump your bones right away, but keep him at bay until you feel ready to provide him with the ride of his life. "I know for a fact he'd like to jump your bones right now, but you're not quite ready yet. Meanwhile, you should use alternate means to satisfy Jim, until you've exercised your new plumbing with gradually increasing in size placebos until you can manage a real man's substantial girth --- comfortably. Eventually, vaginal sex will become your preferred form of sexual intimacy because of the unique direct contact you'll be able to offer with your highly excitable recessed genitalia. I believe he's madly in love with you. The least you can do is to show him your gratitude in return." "Jim is sort of good looking. Isn't he? I mean for a guy he's good looking, that is. He'd be a great catch for any girl. He has some odd quirks though." "Yes, and Jim is fully aware of all your sexual quirks, and he still considers you to be his perfect soul mate. You ought to reciprocate and show him you appreciate his generosity, if nothing else. He's spent a small fortune on your latest procedure alone." "I suppose I should be more grateful. Please tell him I'll see him now." And they lived compatibly happy ever after, --- whoopee!!! The end of Part One. The remainder of this story can be left to your imaginations, dear readers. However, if you don't agree with that assumption on my part, leave a short review to provide me with honest inspiration, or offer your own suggestions for developing a sequel. Thanks, Virg.