Covid Sucks And More
- 4 years ago
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COVID Exposure, Part 1 free porn video
COVID Exposure. Part 1
As COVID-19 was heating up as a pandemic, I was working for an
international firm and constantly on the road, traveling primarily to
Europe. I was in Paris when the President Trump announced closing our
US boarders and terminating flights from overseas. I called my wife,
Peggy, when I heard the news.
I let her know I was working with the airlines and embassy to secure a
flight home. Peggy stated that this must be really missing up "My
Plans." I told her that my work was just about finished, so it was no
problem to head home a few days earlier. She said, "I am talking about
your plans with Emma."
In my mind I am shouting, "Oh shit, oh shit." Peggy went on, "Yes, hun.
I know. I started cleaning up the bonus room over the garage. Now I
know why you always told me not to worry about it, that you would get
it done."
My mouth went dry and I could not get a word out. Peggy said, "The cat
get your tongue?" Yeah, better than she knew. "Well my pretty boy. What
are you wearing now?" I started to stammer, "My business suit of
course." Peggy came back, "The one with black slit skirt that shows
your stocking tops or is it the one with the beautifully flowing,
pleated skirt?"
"Oh gosh dear," I peeped out. "Don't panic Emma, I am not throwing you
out. Not until I at least see you fully dressed as Emma. I have always
thought you had a feminine side; I just did not realize how deep it
runs. So, what are you wearing?"
"It is early evening there, so I assume you have slipped into something
more comfortable. You have quite a collection of pictures on your
laptop here. Do you dress when you fly? You certainly are passable. I
also like how you get double duty out of your skirt suit jackets,
wearing them over your sleeveless dresses. You are quite the
professional businesswoman. Wearing hosiery all the time, with high
heels."
I was like a deer in headlights - frozen. She had found my wardrobe and
my pictures. There were pictures of me, as Emma, in dresses in cities
all over Europe. I would always plan my work so that I could finish in
the mid-afternoon, so I could get back to the hotel to soak in the tub,
shave my legs, arms, and chest and then slip into a dress for dinner in
the evening followed by a nightcap back in the room in a long satin
robe over a lace gown.
I have been doing this for the past three years on business trips. I
have developed quite a hand for doing make-up and my blonde hair is
long enough for me to style into several short hairstyles with a hot
iron that I travel with. The pixie style goes well with my slender 5'8"
frame that gets elevated to 5"11" in my three-inch heels. If were to
add up the hours, I spend more time as Emma, than I do being Evan, my
male self.
A few hotels I frequent know me better as Emma. When traveling by train
from city to city, I often travel as Emma, so I am checking in as Emma.
I register just with the first initial, which coincides with my
business credit card. The fact is, I am spending so much time as Emma,
that my daily mannerism and speech are becoming more and more feminine.
Even when I am in Evan mode, I catch myself using my well-practiced
higher octave feminine voice and my hand and arm movements are equally
feminine.
My European co-workers must believe I am gay. I believe I am
transgendered. My dressing went past crossdressing a long time ago.
Following taking some deep breathes, which is hindered by my waist
cincher, I ask my wife if I should bother coming home. I have visions
of her posting my pictures all over the internet. Peggy tells me, "Yes,
come home. I am surprisingly not that angry, more hurt that you did not
share Emma with me. It is clear she is a big part of you. You have put
a lot of time and effort, if not study into being Emma. I could be
sitting in a waiting room with you, dressed as Emma, and I do not think
I would recognize you as anyone else, other than an attractive, pretty
woman. I might actually be jealous."
I apologize for not being open, over and over. She tells me not to beat
myself up. She has questions and we can talk about them when I get
home. I tell her I hope to be on a flight tomorrow. She tells me to
give myself time to prep as Emma. She expects to meet Emma at the
airport tomorrow evening.
My eyes go wide. I have ridden on trains as Emma, but I have never
flown internationally as Emma. Going through passport and customs
dressed very differently than the image on my passport scares the heck
out of me.
Peggy chimes in as I am back peddling. "Sweetie, Emma, that is a
condition of you coming back into our home and my bed. If you hope to
ever share either with me again, I will meet Emma at the airport. When
you are getting ready to board, send me a selfie of you in front of the
boarding information. This way I will know will be able to pick you out
at customs. I will dress to match your outfit, so we look like to
businesswoman strolling through the airport. OMG, would you prefer for
me to look like a businessman?"
I quickly responded in the negative. "Honey, the two of us walking
together as businesswomen is my fantasy." I hear a sigh of relief on
the other end of the line. We exchange our goodnights and set my phone
down.
I feel tears building, but I do all I can to hold them back. I do not
want racoon eyes. I have a few errands to run before I sleep tonight.
Mckenna
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