Finding Camille Chapter 1 free porn video

FINDING CAMILLE by Mel Huntington The author welcomes feedback to [email protected] PART 1 As I opened the car door, I heard the chirp-chirp of my wife's car alarm system deactivating. Jen was locking the door to our townhouse when she saw me. "Going out?" I asked. "Yes, Cameron," she said. "Staying in?" "That's the plan." "Have fun. Dinner is in the microwave." I stood by my car as she pulled out, waving as she put the car into gear and sped away. As I walked inside I immediately pulled my ponytail off, releasing my long red hair and shaking it loose. I caught a glimpse in the mirror and smiled. "Camille's time," I said to my reflection. I applied the C-cup breast forms and slipped on the Victorian Lace Bustier that had arrived a couple of days earlier. It was red in front with a flower/vine pattern and sheer in the back, with frilly black lace at the bottom, and it was so cute. I'd bought fishnet lace top stockings to match and I slipped the garters into place. Then I took out my make up and finished bringing Camille into the mirror's reflection. I applied my new dark blue eye shadow and thickening mascara and then my brightest pink blush to my fair skin. Finally I brought out the dark red lip liner and carefully traced the edge of my full lips, before applying the matching gloss, in a just slightly lighter shade of red. "I think you're ready, Camille," I said to my reflection. I walked confidently in my 2 inch black pumps to my office and opened the closet door. Richard was where I had left him, sitting on a chair, his boxers tented by his erection. "Hey babe, Camille is back. Time to play." I tilted the chair on the back legs and pulled it back to the bedroom and set it at the end of the bed I shared with my wife. Getting on top of the bed I lifted Richard up over his chair and then dragged him back to the headboard, where I laid him down on Jennifer's pillow. I moved the chair away from the bed, then grabbed three silk scarves from my wife's drawer and rejoined Richard on the bed. I kissed him on the nose and said, "You know the rules," before tying his hands to the bed posts and wrapping the third around his head and over his eyes. With his lifeless eyes covered and his useless hands immobilized, the fantasy was much more real, from when I longed to be Camille and not Cameron, and a blowjob artist in my own right. The cologne I used the last time still lingered on him and he smelled sexy and male. My fingers traced lazy figure eights thru his chest hair before I began to kiss and lick the broad expanse, and my hand moved down toward his six-pack, and then down further toward his boxers. There was plenty of time, and I took my time, enjoying this manly plaything until my mouth was level with his crotch. "You look happy to see me, don't you baby?" I purred before tugging the waist band of his boxers down and freeing his cock, which sprung out toward my lips. I glanced at the digital clock on Jen's nightstand. It said 8:30 and I smiled at my blindfolded lover. "Don't cum too quick," I said. "We have plenty of time." I explored all of him with my tongue and lips, stroking and sucking and licking, and sometimes moving back toward his chest to stimulate his nipples while my hand traveled steadily up and down the shaft. Then I moved away from his chest so I was facing the end of the bed. I loved this position because I could see my reflection in the mirror on our dresser set, and I loved the view of my red hair and blue eyes, my breast forms creating pert cleavage in my pretty new lingerie. I saw a woman sucking her man's cock, and I eagerly inhaled him from tip to root, rocking on my knees, feeling his close-trimmed pubic hair on my lower lip each time I reached the bottom of his shaft. That was when the door opened, and I sat up and stared at my wife. "Camille!" she said. "Looks like you've been shopping. That's a really pretty bustier." I smiled at my wife. "Do you like it? I saw it online and had to order. You're home early?" "Yeah, there was a power outage at the theater. So me and James just fucked in his van and decided to call it a night." "Oh." "I can go downstairs if you want ... but I do have something for you. It kinda needs to be appreciated while its still warm." I looked quizically at my wife, who was untying Richards arms and moving him to the side of the bed. She lay down next to him and started untying her wrap style dress, until it spread out around her. In place of her panties I saw a mass of off-white goop coating her full bush with white streaks splayed across her tummy.. "I told James about you Camille. He left quite a mess for you to enjoy. Are you ready to taste a man's cum?" "Hmmm," I said, and began to move between her legs. "I took a photo," she said. "Would you like to see the cock that just serviced your wife and left that load for you? She held the phone down toward my head, and I reached out and touched her wrist, so she could twist the phone and make the photo align along the length of the screen. "Oh my," I said. The photo was taken facing his stomach, and there were fingers around the top of the shaft, at the root. I recognized Jennifer's wrist tattoo. Her thumb was under his balls, one of which spilled over her thumb and index finger. An enormous shaft and wide head filled the screen to the top. It was mesmerizing. "C'mon Camille, pretend that he just fucked both of us, but he climaxed on me. Pretend he's here, watching you. Taste his cum. Maybe next time he'll cum on you, and I'll taste it." I started at her tummy and began to slurp up her lover's essence, enjoying the flavor, before following the trail down to her bush, where I licked and slurped more into my mouth, until finally I went down to her slit where more lingered, until I began to explore and stimulate her, remembering her admonition that I give her head like a girl - softly, teasingly. Soon my wife was grinding herself into me and I brought her over the edge by expertly flicking her clit until her whole body went rigid, and her juices gushed out of her. I crawled up the bed to lay beside her as she caught her breath. She looked at me, her head tilted to one side, and then she pointed at Richard, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. "No," I said, and reached toward her night stand. "This is the cock I want." Jennifer took off the rest of her dress and threw it toward the hamper. Then we both moved Richard back into his chair. I lay down on the bed and watched as she cinched in the harness and then removed her finger- tip vibrator from the drawer and put it on her index finger. She smeared lube on the dildo, then removed my butt plug and swiftly penetrated me. She started slowly, moving the dildo slowly in and out, eliciting the short high pitched oohs and uhs of a girl with a cock inside her, each one in time with the peak depth of each thrust, until her pace quickened and my moans grew louder and longer, and I was panting and Jennifer reminded me to cum like a girl. After all Jennifer had taught me to cum like a girl, and so she stopped, the dildo still inside, and stayed still as she turned the finger tip vibrator on and began to slide it up and down the underside of my shaft, before raising it to the tip and holding it against my frenulum, the bundle of nerves that in a more just world would have stayed tight against my body, a clit and not the tip of a penis. I began to tremble and my wife started thrusting again and I quickly went over the edge, an earth-shattering orgasm like none I ever experienced as a man. Afterwards, I slipped my ivory chemise with the sheer lace side panels on over my breasts, and slid into bed next to my wife, who was still nude. Our hands entwined in the air, and she looked at my plain finger nails. "You were anxious to become Camille. You haven't even painted your nails yet. How did you like my surprise?" "Have I told you how much I love you, Jennifer?" I said as an answer. Then I kissed my wife, softly, sweetly, like the girl I was supposed to be. The girl she had helped me to become. PART 2 - 6 MONTHS EARLIER When your sex life gets a little predictable and your wife proposes alternating weekly "fantasy nights," how do you tell her that you've always fantasized about being a girl? That you avoided all types of exercise that might develop upper body strength. How you called yourself goth, just to grow your hair long and paint your nails? Black wasn't the color I wanted, but still - it was a girl's beauty regimen of a sort. And what could be gained by telling her about my obsession with blowjobs? The way girls faces lit up when they tugged down boxers or pulled the shaft out from a pair of snug jeans. The way she moans the same as when she was being fucked, for there was a cock inside her and that was what girls wanted. What I wanted - to be a girl, wanting cock. How do you tell her about your alter-ego, found on the website Art of Blowjob. How her name, Camille, was like a feminized version of Cameron. A pretty redhead with pale skin and blue eyes just like yours, eyes that were never brighter than when they were staring into her man's eyes as she happily sucked him off. How do you tell your wife that fantasy? I'll tell you what you do: You think of different fantasies, and when you run out of those, you just let her decide the fantasy du jour. "So what's on your mind, honey?" I asked, as she walked toward the bed from her vanity, an office-file box in her hands. "I was thinking about having a second girl in the bed." "Oh? Did you swipe right on someone and she's on her way?" "No." "You got a girl in that box?" "Only the accessories to make one." "What?" "Look at you Cameron. You've got thick full, long red hair a lot of girls would kill for. You hardly have any body hair on that fair, clear skin. You love moisturizer and keep your skin smooth and soft. And its like you never developed any muscles in your arms, shoulders, chest. If anyone could cross-dress and fit in, it's you, honey. "And those lips. So much fuller, top and bottom, than mine. If I took a picture of your lips side-by-side with a picture of mine, guys would be lining up for a blowjob from you before they'd ask for one from me." "What makes you think I would give a blowjob? I might just have to nix this fantasy, Jen." "Oh calm down, honey. Nothing will go beyond this room, and don't you remember I told you I occasionally dated girls in college? Go with the flow, Cameron. I promise you a life-altering, earth shattering orgasm." "Or at least a really good one." We kissed then, and I tried to put out of my mind why my wife had chosen this particular fantasy. Did she know? Could she know? She pulled away from my lips and reached behind my head to free my hair from it's ponytail. She ran her fingers thru it over and over again to pull the strands apart, then she pulled out one of her brushes and began brushing, over and under, over and over again. She created a part down the center and I used my index fingers to slip the hair back behind my ears. "That was very well-practiced, Cameron. Or should I call you ... Cami?" "I think I'll stay Cameron. But you can think "Cameron Diaz" if you want." "Don't get ahead of yourself, Cameron. You're not quite to that level yet. And anyway she is Cami to her friends and so you shall be. Those boxers aren't very girlish Cami, get them off." I removed them, and as I was bending forward, my wife slipped behind my back and swiftly put the hooks and eyelets together on a bra she had in the box. "I knew it," she exclaimed. "Your suit size is 38, right? Just like my bra size." The straps hung to my waist, and my wife used her training as a cop to immobilize my arm at the wrist, and maneuver my hands thru the straps. She swiftly lifted the straps over my shoulders. "Now I'd show you how girls slip their hands inside their bras to settle the girls in, but you can't match my C-cups Cami." She reached into the box again and said, "Surprise!" In her hands were silicone breast forms, tear-drop shaped and topped by wide aereola and eraser size nipples. She slipped them inside the bra and they filled out the empty cups and were held in place by the support structure of my wife's bra. Her hands moved my own down and around each one in turn. My cock was stirring, and it didn't escape the attention of my wife. "I think Cami is happy to be a girl? Its so unfair. Guys scratch themselves almost any time, any place. Girls can touch themselves only in private. So unfair. But I can't tell you how many times I touched myself when I was growing up, Cami. Girls have a lot of erogenous zones, don't they." My wife reached back into the box and came up with a handful of make up cases, and the one bit of makeup I was familiar with: Lipstick. I sat up against the headboard and she began to finish my transformation. I looked into her eyes but they were elsewhere, watching my cheeks and forehead as she put on foundation and blush, and even when she worked on my eyes, she looked past me as she applied shadow. She pulled out a deep red lipstick and spread it liberally over the lips that she seemed jealous of. Only when she pulled out the mascara did our eyes meet, and she smiled. "I knew it Cami. Pretty boys make pretty girls. Would you like to see?" She pulled out a mirror so I could see the full effect of my brushed out hair and full makeup. I supressed a smile as hard as I could and she frowned. "I put a lot of effort into this and you don't like it, Cami?" Then she glanced at the raging erection rising from my crotch and spoke again. "Oh! But Mr. Happy surely seems to like it." She reached into the box and pulled out the last two items: garter belt and hose. "Why don't you put these on, Cami?" "Fine," I said. "If it will get me closer to that orgasm you promised." I slipped the garter belt up over my waist, maneuvering it over my erection. I brought the hose carefully over my feet and up my legs, then feigned ignorance. "I don't know how these attach," I lied. "Figure it out Cami," she said, "then come to bed." I faked an "aha" moment after looking at the ball and the metal clip at the end of the garters and attached the tops of the hose. "Very good Cami, by putting the stockings on while sitting, you've made sure that they attach to the garter at the proper, and comfortable height." I didn't volunteer that I had watched a youtube video years before. I silently got into bed next to my wife, and kissed her, hard. "Oh no, Cami. that's not how girls kiss. Pay attention to how I kiss you, then kiss me the same way." My wife started kissing me and soon we were kissing passionately, me softer, matching her playfullness, following her signals to kiss her deeper and harder. My hands reached around to unclip her bra and I left a red trail of kisses to her soft mounds, trying to please her with my more gentle tongue and lips. She moaned softly and my hand slid down to her soft patch of blonde hair before my finger darted down her folds and then inside her. "That's it Cami, finger-fuck me," my wife panted into my ear. She grinded herself against my hand, and my tongue and lips again found her breasts as I slipped a second finger inside her. Her own fingers moved toward her sex and began to stimulate her clit, and I felt the familiar tension in my wife's body as her breath quickened and her moans grew louder. In a moment she went over the edge and came, hard, her juices coating my hand. I laid back next to her as she caught her breath, and finally her eyes opened. "That was wonderful, Cami. That's just how my last girlfriend would get me off." My wife hadn't touched me intimately a single time, but my cock strained at attention. She looked me up and down and then kissed me again. "Would you like me to .... eat your pussy, pretty girl?" "I don't have a pussy," I replied. "Oh c'mon Cami don't you know everybody starts out as girls. It's just that pesky chromosome that gives you those big ugly balls that produce silly testosterone and make you say stupid stuff like 'I don't have a pussy.' It looks like your pussy is pretty wet right now." "That's pre-cum." "Well what do you think a woman's juices are? It's lubrication for what's to come." "And you know that the super sensitive nerves under the head, that would have been your clit. And the shaft, that's like the labia. Right now it stretches to hold the blood that makes you hard. But a girl's flesh is malleable just like a guy's. And very sensitive." Every thing she said, II had thought of when I was younger. "I just want to cum," I replied. "Then let me lick your pussy, Cami." My wife began to kiss my lips and my neck before drifting down toward the breast forms which still sat in their pockets. She kissed them, and slipped a finger under the soft material of the bra, to trace a circle around the fake nipple. I gave in and arched my back against her mouth, as if I had breasts. "That's it Cami. Be the girl." My wife finally centered her attention on my crotch, but only part of it. She started at the base and made short, soft licks along the underside, as if stimulating labia. When she reached the head, she swished her tongue sideways before vibrating it against the sensitive underside. Then she went back down the shaft, softly licking, sometimes with the tip of her tongue and others with its broad flat expanse. When she repeated this pattern, I bucked against her lips and pleaded with her. "C'mon, suck my cock." "What is this cock you speak of Cami? I only see a pussy." And she resumed her tongue play. I let out a long, low moan and she stopped again. "That doesn't sound like a girl having her pussy eaten." She started up a third time, stimulating me more but keeping me on edge by never staying at the same spot, pressure, or motion for long. I moaned again, this time softer, and I pitched my tone a full step higher, short "oohs" escaping from my pretty red lips. Then I felt something warm and squishy pressed below my balls, and without a sound, her fingernail was circling around my anus, then pressed inside and began moving in and out. I cried out louder this time, but still in a girl's range. She continued to finger-fuck me and my breath became irregular. When her tongue vibrated against the nerves of my could-have-been-a clit, I went over the edge and came hard. With my eyes shut tight, what felt like warm spittle hit my face. I had cum like a girl. And given myself a facial. "Look at that Cami! Let me help you." Before I could stop her my wife was moving the cum toward my mouth, and I tasted it. This time my frown was real. "Well that was a bit of a buzzkill. What the hell was that Jen?" "Just a little gender bender fun, Cameron. We don't have to do that again if you don't want to. But I think maybe you have an inner girl just dying to come out." "That's not true," I lied. "And no, I don't think I'd like to do that again." I didn't know what had made my wife choose that particular brand of kink that night, but after years of never revealing the true me, I wasn't going to tell the truth now. CHAPTER 3 - TWO WEEKS LATER Jen had texted me a message while she was en route to court to testify at a murder trial - "fantasy night tonight don't worry you don't have to wear anything you don't want to," I wasn't sure if she was being up front with me especially when she again came to bed with a box in hand, but I was relieved when she turned the box over and only two long white silk scarves fell out. "You game?" she asked. For B&D? Better that than last time, I thought, and I nodded. Then she straddled my chest and tied each wrist tightly against the posts of the headboard. When my arms were secure, her hands covered my pectorals, her thumbs close together. Then she smiled while her hands tilted outward so that only the edge of her hands rested on my chest. She was pantomiming fondling breasts, and I knew this wasn't going to be a night of light B&D. She left me in the bed and went back into the closet. She returned with the same box as before. First she tucked my penis between my legs, and closed my thighs together by putting some adhesive on my ankles and laying one atop the other. She used the same adhesive to attach the breast forms directly to my chest. Now I had breasts, and the appearance of a woman's mound of pubes, and I felt my cock stir. When she was done with the makeup and hair, discomfort radiated from my crotch because my hard-on was constricted by my closed legs. "Please, Jen," I begged. "Directing your attention to the last 'fantasy' evening, you came pretty hard, didn't you Cami? While I was licking your pussy and fingering your asshole?" "My name is Cameron. And if you'll remove that adhesive I'll show you that I am a guy." "I think you came hard Cami because you were being penetrated, and you had clitoral stimulation at the same time, isn't that right? For many women, both clitoral stimulation and penetration are the key to a world-rocking orgasm. Right, Cami?" "I wouldn't know," I said, my voice cold and flat. I recognized her tone. She had told me once about her interrogation technique, and I had seen it myself, one time, watching thru the one- way glass of the interrogation room at her precinct. She called it "close a window, open a door," Like they say about God, except she wasn't benevolent. Getting seemingly minor admissions, manipulating them thru this window or that door, until her target found themselves in a room with no exits. When her perp had run out of explanations and denials, she had mouthed the words "checkmate" to me thru the glass. I saw a door, and I took it. "A lot of straight guys enjoy ass play, Jen." "While wearing bra, breast forms, garter and hose?" Door closing, I looked for a window. "It was your fantasy I was following, not mine." "You didn't object very strenuously, Cami. Your cock got hard as soon as the bra went on. And you never told me to stop." At least she was acknowledging my penis, I thought. There was one door ahead and I took it. "Maybe two weeks ago I was just getting hard because I was naked in bed with my wife and I knew I was going to get some." "And now, Cami?" she asked, glancing down to my crotch, where my cock was just visible and literally straining to slip out from between my legs. "Are you hard because you think that you're going to get some from your pretty wife? Or is it because you feel pretty, with makeup and breasts, and that excites you?" "I'm not gay!" "No, of course not. You're a straight girl." "What?" "Do you want to play Family Feud, Cami?" "Family Feud? What the fuck, Jen?" But my detective wife plowed ahead, and now affected a Richard Dawson accent. "Johnny, tell our contestant what our prizes are this evening!" Game show announcer voice now. My wife reached under the bed to pull out and show my collection as she spoke. "Tonight our contestant is playing for ... this lovely set of realistic dildos. For the girl who can never have enough cock to suck, these dildos, size large and very large, are made from medical grade silicone for no harsh chemical taste. By Adam and Eve. And as an added bonus, this lovely set of lipstick, by Revlon." I looked away from her, silent but thinking, "Check." She plowed on, back to Richard Dawson voice. "Thank you Johnny. Top 6 answers are on the board, name something in a pornographic video that stimulates Cameron, as measured by eye-tracking software and a heat sensitive camera." "And mate," I said, this time out loud. "You win, Jen. What's your list?" "Oh, I didn't really install software on your computer. But after I found this stuff, I did check your browser history and I found your folders of downloaded videos. It wasn't hard to figure out what they had in common. Equal parts blowjobs and sensuous, pretty sex with lots of foreplay, the kind that girls would like. And I noticed what "great ending" meant in your file names. That always signified a facial with cum play, or a girl kissing the guy's cock and smiling. But the female POV vids - that really wrapped it up in a neat bow, Cami." "Camille," I said. "Camille Crimson." "Wait a second," she replied, thinking. "The redhead girl with the artsy BJ videos?" "I've thought of her as my alter-ego since the first time I saw her. Same red hair and blue eyes." "And also an enthusiastic cock sucker," my wife said. I looked directly into her eyes. "Understand something Jen. This is just a kink I've had since I don't know how long ago. But I have never, I mean never ever been with a guy this way. Now would you please remove that adhesive." When I could separate my ankles, my cock moved upward slightly and turned on its side. It looked defeated, the same as I felt. "How long have you felt this way, Cameron?" I paused for a long moment before answering. "A long time. When I was 14 I saw two classmates when they thought they were alone. J.B. and Lexi were their names. He was the best athlete in my grade, and she was a beautiful redhead, with D-cup breasts at a very young age. I was totally tongue-tied around her, and I hated that she was dating J.B., who bullied me in junior high. "Now we were freshmen, and I became invisible to people like J.B. and Lexi. I remember it was a couple of hours after school had let out, and I was walking thru the boy's locker room, trying to stay out of the rain and leave closest to where the late bus waited for students. I entered the locker room and heard a girl's voice say, "hey sexy." "I peered around the corner just in time to see J.B. pass from the showers to one of the rows of lockers. Or, really, I saw first his cock, standing straight out from above his muscled legs." "That's a beautiful cock you have," I heard Lexi say. I walked as slowly and quietly as I could toward the end locker where he had disappeared and I peered around the corner. Lexi was on the floor by then. Her shirt was off but still tucked into her cheerleader skirt, which was hiked above her waist. J.B.'s ass covered her face, but I could see one of her hands squeezing her boobs and another buried between her legs. She moaned as J.B. was rocking his hips back and forth. I stared silently until she started to shift, and now I could see her breasts clearly, bigger than I had even imagined, and crowned by wide, thick nipples. And I saw J.B.'s shaft as he continued to move rhythmically between her lips. Then her eyes began to open, first to look up at him but she sensed me out of the corner of her eye, and I left as quickly as I could. "I think someone saw us," I heard her say. "Who?" "I didn't see. He's gone now,' were the last words I heard. "When I got home I couldn't wait to replay what I saw in my mind. At that point I had only seen pictures in magazines, naked girls, staged sex scenes. But now I had seen a real live girl - beautiful redhead Lexi - not only naked but in action. I'd seen her tits and her red pubes. But when I closed my eyes, I couldn't summon the perspective I had, or imagine J.B.'s perspective. My mind fed me Lexi's view, and I felt Lexi's excitement, and Lexi's feelings as this boy, who I guess was good-looking but who I hated passionately, came forward staring at her - at me. My eyes were drawn to his manhood, and I remembered what she had said about his "beautiful cock". Then I was kissing him and stroking him, feeling his hands on my body, my clothes coming off and my breasts being fondled and sucked, and me sinking to the floor to take him into my mouth, imagining his taste and texture. I even filled in the blanks after I left, imagining being Lexi, the pretty redhead I wanted to date, being impaled by J.B. Clark's cock, her cries - my cries - filling the locker room. "I swear Jen, it was like, watching them, it imprinted on my mind that I was meant to be a straight girl, and whenever I fantasized or watched videos, I placed myself in the scene as the girl, sucking cock or being fucked." "Even thinking about it now is turning you on," my wife observed as she looked at my cock, rising again. "But this couldn't have been a complete surprise to you, was it?" "No," I admitted. "There were things that happened when I was younger, before puberty." "So how is it that you liked girls and had sex with girls and married a girl?" "Because the penis wants what the penis wants, and my penis wants girls. But for almost twenty years, or maybe all my life, I've had the mind of a girl, wanting breasts and bras to wear over them. Wanting a penis inside her mouth and pussy Wanting a boy's hard body to curl up against with my soft one." "I guess you married one really fucked up asshole. If you'll untie my wrists, I'll pack my shit up and go find a hotel room." I noticed she was frowning as she untied the scarves. I took the liquid she used to melt the adhesive from my ankles and got the breast forms off and walked to my dresser. "Wait Cameron. I wanted you to realize that it was OK for you to indulge a little kinky gender-bending. But when you resisted, I had to force the issue." "I've repressed this stuff for a long time, Jen." "And I feeI so sorry about that. But I want you to know ... I married Cameron the person and I still love you. I don't want you to leave." I turned and faced my wife, her eyes hurt and sad, mine wide in surprise. I returned to the bed and we kissed, and then we both started crying, for me an emotional release of years of repression and guilt, topped off by the realization that my wife really accepted me - all of me. "I love you, Jen." "I love you too," Then she held my head in her hands and stared deeply into my eyes. "I want you to find your inner girl - your Camille. Whatever that means. I want you to be happy and fulfilled. But there is one thing Cameron: You may want cock in your mind. But I need cock inside me. My husband's cock. Your cock. "I need you to promise me that If I give you carte blanche to indulge your inner girl, you have to promise me that you will always be my man." I took her hands from my cheeks and held them to my heart, then I kissed them, and gave her my promise. We made love that night with greater passion than I had ever felt, because everything between us had fallen away. I felt closer to my wife than I ever did before, and after slept soundly against her soft warm body, more content than I had ever felt before. It would be the last time I wore men's bed clothes. I wasted no time the next morning, slipping on the garter and hose, and glueing the breast forms into place before putting my wife's bra on over them. Then I started to look closely at my wife's makeup. "Would you like some help with that, Camille?" she asked. "We really have to get you your own. Your skin is much lighter than mine, there will be better color combinations at the makeup counter. You know I didn't have a kid sister to talk to about makeup and clothes. This will be fun." I smiled and had my first makeup lesson from my wife, and other lessons, too, like moving like a girl, walking in heels, and keeping my voice at a higher register whenever I was Camille. Once we ordered padded panties and shapewear, I started to experiment with Jen's dresses and skirts. I found that many fit well, with the only difference being my 5'9" height meant that I showed more of the legs I had honed with long distance running and the stairmaster. And Jen always told me what looked good on me, and how to accessorize, helping Camille develop her own sense of style. Soon I was ordering outfits myself online. Mostly though, my time as Camille was private time, just not secret time anymore. Now, in full makeup, with the illusion of soft breasts filling the cups of my lingerie, I knelt down before the mirror, the suctioned dildo right at my lips. I saw a legitimately pretty girl in the reflection, not just in my mind, and I happily slurped and sucked my imaginary lover's cock, stimulating myself by stimulating him with my pretty lips, mouth and tongue. But with so much time spent as Camille, eventually I realized my mind had written checks my cock couldn't cash anymore. I promised Jen I would take Viagra but she told me she didn't want me to do that. She said that my mind and penis were now in sync, and that was as it should be. But since she was still a woman with needs, she told me she had to find gratification elsewhere and I didn't hesitate to give her my blessing. My birthday was a month after Jennifer had begun to prowl Tinder and bars for hookups. She asked what I wanted and I said to stay in, as Camille. Jennifer told me that she had bought me a special gift, and I kept my eyes covered as she led me into our bedroom. When I opened them, she said, "ta dah! I bought you a man Camille." There was a man on our bed, with his arms bent and his hands behind his head. His eyes stared straight ahead and there was an unchanging half- smile frozen on his face. "The model's name is Richard. I figured you could call him dick." His skin was life-like and his arms and chest were muscular and hard, and for the first time I had a man as a plaything, not just a rubber cock but a nearly lifelike neck and chest and chiseled abs, muscular legs and inner thighs, all to lick and kiss, touch and explore, before making mouth-love to his manhood, just as I had dreamed of for so long. I finishished by climaxing over him, and then eagerly cleaning my cum from his tummy, groin and balls, as if it were his and not my own, and i engaged in the cum play I'd watched lucky girls do before, then finally I kissed the shaft and the head before slowly kissing my way back up his torso and settling my soft body into his hard one. "What did you think, Camille?" "Well my first question is when did you order him? I've looked at these things online and its like a six month delivery time." "He was a factory remainder, discounted and available for immediate delivery. How was he??" "Well I love dick, but I'm not sure I like Richard's unblinking eyes, the smile that won't change. The hands that won't reach for me." "So, why don't you put a blindfold on him, and tie up his hands to the bedpost. Then you're in charge, and he's your plaything." "I like that, Jen." "You know, Camille, there are other ways to have fun with Richard," as she pointed at his always hard cock. "Actually Jennifer I've been thinking about that too ... but I want you for that." "I am so glad you said that, Camille." She took out her other gift: A harness to hold a dildo. Jen took her time, working her fingers inside of me, until I told her I was ready, and she pressed the head against me, and I pushed out onto the dildo until she slipped inside me, and I groaned, Cameron again for just a moment, until Camille came back and I began to moan and whimper like the girl I was becoming. A cock inside me at last, my moans grew louder and my wife pegged me harder, and I was ready when she told me to cum like a girl. And I did cum like a girl, a contented girl at last with a cock buried deep inside her, until she groaned when it finally slipped out. Afterwards I told her it was thebest birthday ever. She was glad, and mentioned that a butt plug might be a good idea to keep me ready in the future. And that was our life together - I was Cameron to the outside world, and Camille at home, and especially on weekends. "Going out" was code for Jen hitting a single's bar or going to see a Tinder match, and "Staying in" was code that I was going to have some alone time with Richard. They say people get stressed on Sundays as the looming work week weighs on their mind. But it was always worse for me, knowing that I would have to dress as Cameron again. One thing that made it better was, each Sunday night, after removing my nail polish, I'd pick a new color for my toe nails, knowing that in five days,I would be able to paint my fingernails to match. On Monday I would be in Cameron's clothes, my hair in a pony tail, so no one could see the lady's cut Jennifer had given me, with it longest in the center of my back but curled and tapered to fall around my face when it was out of the ponytail. I might be making sexist jokes and pretending to lust after the Hooters waitresses, but I was Camille now.