The Girlfriend - Chapt. 1 - Learning The Ropes free porn video

The Girlfriend - Chapt. 1 - Learning the Ropes The doorbell rang, a three-note progression that I still wasn't used to. I'd moved in with Natasha just four days previously. I knew who it was - Denise come to help me make sense of my new life. I opened the door. Denise greeted me with a squeal of pleasure and kissed me full on the lips. I tightened, still not used to being kissed by a man. She had a woman with her. "You remember my husband Felicia?" Denise said. "She gave me a ride over." Felicia gave me an embrace and kissed my cheek. "Good to see you again, Shawna. We briefly chatted at the Jane Austen Ball." I did remember. Not a classic beauty, very thin and very endowed. A pipe cleaner with two softballs attached. "A pleasure meeting you again, Felicia. I bet we'll be seeing a lot of each other now that Denise and I are getting close." Felicia nodded. "Well, I'll leave you two girls to take care of business. Pick you up around four?" she said to Denise. "Great, honey." Denise kissed her in a very passionate manner, then followed me into the kitchen. She had a backpack with her that she dropped next to her chair. "So, I'm dying!" Denise said. "Tell." I poured Denise a cup of tea from the kettle I'd been brewing. "Bewildered, happy, scared. I want to get this right. I need your help." "That's why I'm here, cutie. How do you like Natasha's place?" "It's so large. I bet it's over 4000 square feet. My old apartment would fit inside of her bedroom. I still don't know where everything is. I don't know if I can manage cleaning it." "Tell Natasha you need help. You don't think she cleaned the place by herself, do you?" "Did she have a service do it?" "The maid," Denise said, giving me a wink and a leer. When I didn't react, she laughed. "Natasha has a thing for maids. It's her fetish. Well, one of them." "I thought that was a guy thing," I said. "Woman don't think like that, do they?" "Oh sweetheart, you've got a lot to learn. Women have even dirtier minds than we do. They just hide it better." She saluted me with her teacup and took a sip. "What'd you think of the library?" She must have seen the look of confusion that greeted her question. "Don't tell me you haven't seen the library? I thought that's the first place you'd have explored given the bookworm at the center of your soul." She took a large swallow from her cup and said "Follow me." She led me to Natasha's bedroom and pointed at a door flanking the bed, one of a pair. "I thought that was just another of her closets," I said. "She seems to have lots of clothes." I went to the door and opened it. A light automatically turned on and I stepped over the threshold. "Holy crap," I said. The perimeter of the room was shelf after shelf of books. I could tell by the bindings that some were really old. A library like this wasn't measured in number of books, it was measured in feet of books. A quick estimate suggested there were nearly 200 linear feet of books here. "Don't ask me what they are," Denise said. "I'm a romance novel kind of boy. You can be sure there's none of that here." "Well, there's no Jane Austen, of that I'm certain," I replied. "How did you know this was here?" "Oh, Natasha and I had sex here one night. I sneezed a lot. Old books smell like lost years and dust to me." "You and Natasha had sex?" Denise rolled her eyes. "Don't act surprised. She's dated just about every available man in the association, and plenty out of it. We hooked up three times before I met Felicia. Natasha usually didn't go out more than once with anyone. I guess she liked me, and I liked her, but it never burned hotter than that." Denise sighed. "She was really good in the sack, but you know that, don't you?" I nodded. I tried not to think about the last several nights. I'd gotten practically no sleep. "I guess I'm just surprised, that's all. She never said anything." "She played the field. Everyone was trying to be the one to land her. Then you came along and that was it. You could have done the same thing, but you were head over heels from the first moment you met her. Lissa pointed at you while you two were dancing at Jackie's wedding and said "A lot of guys are going to have to cross Natasha off their dance cards after this." She gave me hug. "Speaking of heels, let's take a look at your wardrobe. I need to see what kind of challenge I'm facing." I led her to my bedroom. It was large and had a queen bed, a chest of drawers, and a sizeable walk-in closet. Everything was in neutral colors. "Natasha told me I could do anything I wanted with the decorations and furniture." "And what do you think of the sleeping arrangements?" she said, no hint of judgement in her voice. "Confused. I don't know the rules. I thought we'd be in the same bedroom but she said we should do it this way. She said she's often up late working or restless and will turn on the TV and it would really mess with my sleep. I'm free to go to her room and hop in bed with her anytime, and I have. Every night. She welcomes me and things get, you know, heated. But when were done she sends me back here. Is that normal in FLR arrangements?" I was nervous about what answer I might get. Denise shrugged. "They're all unique. Jackie sleeps in a little bed at the foot of Angelika's bed. Felicia and I sleep together." She laughed. "Lissa and Carla don't have bedrooms, they have sex rooms. Sex Room 1, 2 and 3 and they sleep in whichever room they're in after they're done screwing. Those two have a greater appetite for sex than anyone I know." "Did you hear anything about the operation?" I asked. I'd thought about Lissa's orchiectomy on a number of occasions. "Went fine. She's home now. Says she's a bit sore but can't wait for the okay to take herself out for a spin. She said she wished she could go shopping with us. She and Carla also announced they're pregnant. Two months she said. That's the reason Lissa got snipped - one kid was all they wanted and other forms of birth control didn't interest them." "Wow. That's a lot of news. Maybe we can arrange time to drop over one day this week?" "Sounds great." She went to the closet and opened it up. She stood silently for a minute, taking it in. "This is terrible," she said. She disappeared inside and came back out in a minute carrying an armful of shirts and pants on hangers. She dumped them on the floor. She went to the chest of drawers and starting throwing my underwear and socks on the pile. "All this has to go," she said, and redoubled her efforts. "Come on, give me a hand." "Why are we throwing this out?" I said as I pitched in. Denise stopped and gave me an odd look. "Maybe I'm making an unwarranted assumption here. You do know you're the girlfriend, right?" I blushed. "Yeah, but it's still strange and once in while I feel like panicking." Denise patted me on the shoulder. "You need to toss all this guy stuff and start working on a feminine wardrobe. Look on the bright side. We get to go shopping together on Natasha's credit card. We'll have you dolled up in no time." In the end she let me keep a few of my guy things. "There may be times when you need to dress in the old way, so we all keep a couple outfits. I haven't had any of my old things on in over a year. I feel uncomfortable dressed that way now." She touched her boobs. "These don't go with the look, know what I mean? Ready to go shopping?" I looked at all the clothes on the floor. "I've got nothing to wear," I said. The thought of going shopping was terrifying. If I was in guy clothes, I'd feel like a fool trying on dresses and picking panties. And dressed as Shawna, well, the whole female attire thing in public still tied knots in my stomach. Besides, all I had were the things Natasha had bought for me so far: the bridesmaid outfit and the clothes I'd worn on our first date to the museum. Plus my mile-high panties. The sundress was in the dryer - I'd been wearing it here in the house for Natasha and it needed ironing. The sweat suit I'd borrowed from her and was wearing now was probably a style faux pas. "I'm glad I called you to help," I said. "I'm lost." "Technically, it was Natasha who called first," Denise chuckled. "She contacted me a day before you did. I would have been here quicker but my husband wanted to tag along just so she could see you again so I had to work around her schedule. She's made it clear she thinks you're hot. I can't disagree, though this," Denise pointed at my sweat suit, "is the best chastity device going. And that blush of yours? Terminal cuteness. It's our job to blow Felicia's socks off when she comes to pick me up later. We'll have you completely made over so she sees the 'wouldn't you like to screw me' side of you, and when she takes me home she'll be so turned on it'll be sex before supper, with second helpings of everything. What you and Natasha do when she comes home is up to you two. Maybe Miss Scarlet in the library with a vibrator?" "What?" I said. "It's a joke. It's from the game of Clue." "I think I remember playing that," I said. "Was there really a vibrator?" She rolled her eyes. "I'll get some trash bags and we can start bagging up all these clothes, then we can get ready to do some shopping." I began throwing my old life into the bags Denise retrieved from the kitchen. If only the real transition would go this smoothly. Sometimes I couldn't sleep, thinking about what I was doing and wanting it to go well but fearing it might not. When we were done, Denise opened the backpack she'd brought with her from the kitchen and began pulling out clothes. "I figured you'd be short of some things so I brought a few cast offs. We're not exactly the same size but it'll do until we can get you kitted out in your new things." I stood there gawking as she put a skirt and blouse on the bed. She held up a bra draped over one finger. "What are you waiting for? Strip, girl." "I've got two bras that Natasha gave me," I said. "Those are several cup sizes too big for you and you wore them with inserts. Do you think we're going to go shopping for lingerie with you sporting a fa?ade constructed of tissue paper? We need the real girl, not the wannabe." I swallowed hard and took off the sweat suit. Another first - stripping for a man. I was painfully self-conscious of my nearly naked state when I reached for the bra. Denise froze. "Wait, what are those?" she said, pointing at my chest. Instinctively I covered up with my hands. "No hiding from your bestie." She pulled my hands away. "How did I miss these when you were getting dressed for the wedding?" "I changed in the bathroom," I said. "My god, your aureoles are what, three inches in diameter? Those aren't typical guy bits." She reached out and pinched a nipple. It immediately stiffened. It was the size of a blackberry. I yipped and pulled back. She chuckled. "Well, when you get your own rack to back those up, you're a shoe in to be a Feminization Monthly centerfold." "There's such a thing?" I placed my hands back over my chest protectively. "Nope. But there ought to be, and you'd be the star of the inaugural issue." She shook her head. "You're unbelievable, know that? What does Natasha say?" "She's only ever commented about the pink coloring." "That's it?" "She does like to fondle my nipples and sometimes she sucks on them," I said. I thought back to last night. "And pinch them and give them little nips with her teeth." "Do you enjoy that? How sensitive are they?" "It's...nice. It's like starting a slow burning fire. I'd never climax from that kind of attention, but it warms me up." I blushed. A month ago I wouldn't have believed I'd be discussing my nipples with another man. Talk about the world turning upside down. "I'm uber sensitive," Denise said. "Sometimes I have to wear pads in my bra to prevent chafing. Felicia can't keep her hands off my girls. I try but I have to stop her before she goes too far. I know that frustrates her a little bit. You'd be her dream nipple play partner. Here. Put on this training bra. It was mine before I had myself done." I put it on backwards, hooks to the front, then readjusted 180 degrees after I'd fastened things. I slid my arms through the straps and made sure the prime real estate was hidden away. "Why do you call it a training bra? What are we training?" "It's just the way we talk about it in the FLR association. The guys who don't get implants have to wear things like that - AA cups with no support - just a satin panel for modesty's sake. Boys like me who get a boob job wear real bras, so we call all the rest trainers. It's elitist, but we do feel superior compared to them. I'm surprised how many never get enhanced." She jiggled her torso and the anatomy under her tight- fitting blouse responded in a fluid manner. "You'll see. It's like suddenly discovering that a very important part of you has been missing all your life." I finished dressing without further interruptions. I put on the garter and stockings I'd worn at the wedding, along with the pink hipsters from the trip to Dubuque. The skirt was a waist size too large and showed more leg than I would have liked. The blouse was okay but the sleeves were a little short so I rolled up the cuffs. Denise sat me down in front of a mirror and did my makeup with some cosmetics she had in her backpack, then helped me put on my wig. She adjusted the way it fit on my head, then told me to look in the mirror. "In a couple months your hair will be long enough to get your first styling. I bet you'd look good in a layered crop with some highlights, maybe a pixie cut but that would put the brakes on growing it long in the back. Good thing you're not one of those guys who sported a buzz cut. It takes at least a year for them to graduate from a wig." She gave me a final inspection. I felt my heart beating a little faster. Was I really going out shopping dressed like this? "Stop hyperventilating, Shawna. You got this. Nobody's going to see anything but a pretty girl. If somebody takes the time to really scrutinize you, the only thing they'll think is 'is she or isn't she.' It's the kind of mystery you want to make. Leave'em begging for more." We headed towards the garage door. "You're not crazy behind the wheel, are you?" I picked the keys to the Lexus off the key rack. "Latest nightmare - being pulled over by a cop and taken to the station so I can be shown off to the other officers." She said she was librarian careful on the road, so I told her to drive. We made small talk while she drove to our first stop. The only surprising thing was when she asked me "So what do you think about Felicia? She'll ask me when I get home. Like all husbands she's a little vain. So say something nice." "Ummm - her breasts are prominent?" I said. "I can work with that." She cleared her throat and said in her best breathy Marilyn Monroe voice "Honeybear, Shawna says your boobs haunt her dreams. It's all she can think about." She winked at me. We arrived at Working Girl, a shop in the trendy section of town. "Most of the boys shop for their lingerie here," Denise said. "The clerks are used to working with our kind of customer. It's a comfortable place to indulge in your panty fantasies." I swallowed hard. "Maybe you don't know the meaning of the word comfortable," I said. I got out of the car and followed her into the shop. We went up to a saleswoman who was standing behind at a table folding silk pajamas and laying them out for display. She had red hair pinned into a bun at the back of her head and watched us through round glasses that made her look like an owl. "Can I help you ladies? We've got a couple of sales going on that might interest you." Denise's head swiveled as she scanned the store. "Is either Karen or Julia here today?" The clerk shook her head. "It's Karen's day off and Julia took another job. But I'm sure I can be of assistance." "You're new here," Denise said. "I started last week but I know all the merchandise. Tell me what you need and I can get you started. My name is Annie." Denise looked at me and shrugged. "This is Shawna," she said. "She needs a complete wardrobe. She's a he." I grimaced. Denise had revealed my secret in a single sentence. Hiding it wouldn't have worked, and I knew that. Once I started trying things on, it would become apparent. "I have a list," I said, opening up my purse and taking out a piece of paper. Denise gave me a funny look. "A list?" "I like to plan things out. Once you know what to do, all you have to do is do it." She still stared at me. "I like lists," I said lamely. I handed it to the saleswoman. She looked at me, looked at the list. She started to smile, then banished it. "Alright, lets start at the top." She was all business now. "Panties. You say you need seven pairs." She turned to Denise. "You said you wanted a complete outfitting. This doesn't seem like enough, does it?" "How many pairs of panties do you have?" I asked Denise. "Oh, about two drawers full." "Two...drawers?" I said. The clerk nodded. "A boy can never have too many panties, can he?" I couldn't tell if she was mocking me so I nodded silently. Denise was grinning. I could see she was enjoying my predicament. "Follow me, Shawna," Annie said. She picked up the clipboard on table where she'd been working. "The panty section is at the rear of the shop. We'll have you pantied up in no time at all. What's your size?" "Don't know," I said. "Are you wearing panties now?" I nodded. It was still hard to answer something like that. Oh yes, miss. I'm wearing panties and I just love the way they hug my butt. Panties are my favorite item of clothing. I wish I'd started wearing them years ago. I look so sexy in panties. Not going to happen. "If they're comfortable we can check the size," Annie suggested. "Okay. Is there a dressing room where I can verify that?" I asked. "I can do it right here," Denise said. "Come here and turn around." I did as she said. I felt her lift up the back of skirt and pull the waistband of my panties to verify the size tag. "They're a size 7L." "I'm going to start a size card," Annie said. "That way we can go right to picking things out the next time you visit. We've very proud of the number of repeat customers we have. I'll need to collect some data first. What's your name?" Another first. Naming myself on a document of any sort. "Shawna Kelly," I said. "S-H-A-U-N-A?" she said, starting to write. "No. I mean, I don't think so. I always pictured it as S-H-A-W-N-A. I knew a girl who spelled it that way in school so I've always heard it that way." I looked at Denise. She shook her heard. "It's your name. sweetie. You can be Princess Butterfly for all I care." The clerk chuckled and started a new card. "S-H-A-W-N-A. Address?" I almost gave her my old apartment, but wasn't valid anymore. "4362 Ellicott Road." Natasha's place. Our place. We finished the rest of the address, added my cell phone. I hesitated when she wanted my email but Denise said yes. "They have frequent sales, and you can shop online, too," she said. Annie nodded. "Wonderful sales. I shop here myself." She gave us a wink. "I'm a lingerie whore." Denise smiled. "Aren't we all. I think you're doing just fine Annie. I was hesitant to work with a new saleswoman but I'm glad we did." "So panties 7L. Do you know your waist size? Leg measurements, bra size?" I shook my head. How would I know that? Annie tapped her pen on the clipboard, thinking. "Maybe we should gather a full set of measurements. I'll get you a modesty robe and we can get everything at one time. Go into one of the dressing rooms and take everything off but your panties and put the robe on" I suppose somewhere at sometime the robe she gave me might be called modest. It was made of soft clingy fabric that hung down to mid-thigh. It was white, with elaborate lacework and held closed by a single tie at the waist. I guess the whole point was to make the customer feel sexy. It just made me nervous. "Alright, let's begin," Annie said. She guided me to a mirror that showed front and side views. "If you'll open the robe please, Shawna?" I took a deep breath and opened it. Annie brought a measuring tape up to my chest, then stopped. She stared at my chest. She looked me in the eyes, looked back down at my chest, then turned her head to Denise. Denise shrugged. "I know, right?" She and Annie shared a little smile. This was exactly why I'd never played sports in school. Can you imagine what the other guys would have said as soon as they saw my chest? It was bad enough that I'd never lived down the cheerleader picture Miriam had decided to share with her friends. Rachel had gotten really angry with her but the damage was done. Whenever it was time for cheerleader tryouts, some girls would always ask me if I was going out for the squad. Once they tied pom poms to the door handle of my locker. No wonder I had trouble getting dates. Annie slipped the tape around my back and took a measurement beneath my bust. "37," she said. Denise had the clipboard and was writing down the numbers. Annie moved the tape up and measured over my bust. Maybe it was the cold, but my nipples became enlarged as soon as the tape touched them. I could see Annie's eyes widen a little, but she didn't say anything. "37.5," she stated. "Put her down for an AA cup but make a note that Shawna has prominent nipples." I felt my cheeks redden. "Waist next," Annie said, shifting the tape. "She's a 29," she announced, and slipped the tape around my rump. "34." The final measurements she took were crotch to knee, crotch to heel, upper arm length, lower arm length, thigh diameter, neck diameter, and shoulder widths. It was a very intimate process but Annie maintained a professional demeanor despite the earlier reaction to my chest peculiarities. I had to work really hard not to have an erection. I think she and Denise enjoyed the whole event. They were chatting like old friends. When Annie was done, she knew more about my body than I did. We returned to the panty section. I immediately ruled out thongs. I was shown a variety of other styles, and selected hipsters, boy shorts, and bikinis. I held up a pair of high-waisted panties and Denise broke out in laughter. "I call those romance killers." I called them comfortable - these at least had room for all of me. But I bowed to Denise's greater experience. When I was finished, I had fourteen pairs in several colors. I was shocked at how many I had set aside. "Do I really need this many?" "When you're building your wardrobe from scratch, best to have more than less. And you'll be adding lots more to your collection," Annie said. I raised an eyebrow. I was collecting panties, now? I thought the bra selection would go quickly, but I was wrong. I had to sit through discussions of padded bras, underwires, soft cups, pushups, halter bras, racerbacks, bralettes, beginners, and t-shirt bras. I was required to try them all on, and model them for Denise. Most were completely inappropriate for my figure. "Why am I trying all these on?" I complained. Denise just smiled. "How many bras did you wear prior to a month ago? You've got to make up for your inexperience. Consider this part of your education." In the end, I purchased eight bras. I was somewhat limited by my need for an AA cup; apparently that was not a size carried in most stores, but Working Girl had attracted a slice of clientele that needed that size, and so they had a decent selection. While this was transpiring, Denise picked out a bra for herself that featured a lot of chains and leather and followed me into the changing room. She took off her top and bra and looked at herself in the mirror. I couldn't help but stare. She saw me watching. "Like what you see?" She gave a little shimmy and her boobs swayed hypnotically in response. "I can't wait until you decide to get your own. I bet you don't last six months." She took both my hands and put them on her breasts. "Give'em a squeeze. They feel natural." I was blushing, but did as she asked. They did feel like the real thing, though the breadth of my experience was limited to four previous opportunities, one of which was through a thick sweater and quilted bra. I started to pull my hands away but she held them in place. "It's alright. We all feel like we're a tight-knit group, sisters. I can't wait for you to join the Tau Iota Tau Sorority." She smirked. "The initiation ceremony is something you'd have to experience to believe." I stepped back and she put on the bra she'd brought in. It looked great on her in a slutty kind of way. I was a little confused by her behavior but shrugged it off. "I think I'll get it," she said. "Felicia will have fun taking it off of me. Now let's get you into some stockings and garters." My list indicated I'd need two garter belts and four pairs of stockings. Again, I was wrong. Denise explained my mistaken assumptions. "We wear garters and stockings exclusively when were skirted up," she said. "Pantyhose are uncomfortable and not sexy enough. Garter pantyhose are for compromisers. There's nothing that will turn your boyfriend or husband on more than the lace, straps, and buckles you're sporting under your dress. It's like saying 'oh, look - I'm so proper here with this demure skirt, but underneath I'm your private sex toy and I want you to throw me on the bed and screw me 'til I can't see straight.' They really like that." We settled for six and twelve. Annie suggested that I add a girdle garter and nylons with seams down the back. "Retro adds a little spice," she said and led me to the costume section. "She'd make a great WWII era pin-up," she confided to Denise. "We can suggest a boudoir photographer that could do the shoot." "I'll keep it in mind for another day," I said. It was too much of a step for me right now but it got me thinking about other possibilities. The last thing I added were pajamas. I picked out two satin sets with camisole tops and shorts. I would need some flannels for winter, but they didn't carry those at the Working Girl. Denise pointed to a slinky baby doll in white that came with a matching pair of side tie panties. "You should get these," she said. I held them up. "There's a set like this at Natasha's." Denise nodded. "I forgot about those. They're mine. I left them there one night to remind Natasha of me. It's flattering to know she kept them." "Or lazy," I said. Denise had already told me of her history with Natasha, but I couldn't help but feel a small stab of jealousy. "I'll take them," I said, adding the baby dolls to my pile. Then I picked out something that was lacy and transparent. "This, too." We'd see who Natasha would remember. My stomach took the opportunity to growl loudly. I was suddenly aware of my hunger. Denise looked at her phone. "My god, it's 2:30. We've spent a whole day shopping for your dainties, girl. Guess we'll have to save dresses, shoes, makeup and nails for another day. We'll grab something from a fast-food joint and get you home and doll you up. People are going to want to see what their money bought. Okay with you?" I nodded. The bill came to almost fifteen hundred dollars. I didn't spend that much for clothes in a year. I understood that the brands they carried here were classy, but fifteen hundred for underwear? Annie carefully wrapped everything up in tissue paper and placed them in frou frou boxes with bows and little paper flowers. Denise added a sizable tip. "I work on commission." Annie said. "You've already contributed a healthy boost to my income today, so a tip won't be necessary." "Annie, you've been an angel. Good service deserves a reward. I'll mention how wonderful you are and some of my friends will ask for you by name." She pointed at the pair of us. "We're the kind of customer you want to make happy. We return the favor." We went out to the car and I made a sudden decision. "Give me Natasha's card. There's something else I want to pick up. Stay here. I'll just be a few minutes." When I returned, I put two more bags in the trunk to join the half dozen already there. "What'd you buy?" Denise asked. "Something special," and I left it at that. When we got home, we dumped the packages on my bed. While I grabbed the sundress and gave it a quick ironing, Denise set up in the powder room that was part of my bathroom. I took a seat in front of the mirror. "I want bright red lipstick - do you have anything like a Rouge Dior 999? And long dark lashes with plenty of mascara. Matching nail polish. You can do my eyes with pink eye shadow." I was getting excited and the words bubbled out. Denise laughed. "My oh my, the little lady has definite and expensive tastes already. Sorry, I left my Dior at home. Looks like you've been studying cosmetics. Good for you. I won't say that red is the best color for your skin tone. You'll look a little like a vampire." "Good. Women everywhere should fear me," I said with an embarrassed laugh. It was a rush, but I was in best femme fatale form when Denise's husband rang the doorbell. Denise took me by the hand before she went to answer it. "Work your magic, honey. Send me home a happy wife." I held onto her hand. "I don't get it, you know. Why all the fuss over me? Why should Felicia think of me that way?" Denise gave an exasperated sigh. "Some people just have it. The magic I mean. Think of the Gibson Girl or the It Girl, or Marilyn Monroe. It's something inside of them, not forced. It's magnetic and no one can resist it and you've got it. God knows why. So learn to accept it and use it. Go flirt with Felicia. Watch how she reacts. Lord, you've got Natasha Evans so crazy in love with you that she's throwing her well- practiced caution to the wind." I followed her to the door. Felicia stepped into the foyer and hugged Denise and gave her a kiss. Her eyes flicked to me. "So, they've got you dressed up like the Queen of Sheba I see. What did you ladies pick out?" "Oh, special things," I said. "Bras and garter belts and stockings. Intimate bedroom things. So much lace and silk. I hardly knew what to try on next. I'm afraid I enjoyed it all terribly." I flared my dress out with my hands and did a little spin. It billowed open and displayed some leg, probably the tops of my stockings and the garter belt clips holding them up. Felicia swallowed with difficulty. "You look good," she said. "It's so nice to hear compliments like that," I said. I stepped close and reached up, put a hand on one side of her face, and gave her a kiss on the cheek that lingered just a second too long. "You're a darling." I could see her eyes dilate slightly. They dropped to my chest. I knew my nipples were hard as bullets, and showed through the nothing of my bra and the light fabric of the dress. The desire was evident in her eyes. Was Denise right? Did I weave spells? If so, I was not immune to my own magic. I felt a gentle response to the hunger in Felicia. Start a fire, get burned by a fire. I put a finger in my mouth and licked it slowly, then rubbed at her cheek. "Sorry, I left a little love mark there. I'm still getting the handle on wearing lipstick. I probably overdid it." She was definitely flustered. Denise took me by the hand and guided me back. She stepped forward and put an arm around her husband's neck. "Close your eyes, Shawna," she said teasingly. I did as requested. I heard the rustle of clothing, then two quick gasps from Felicia. She spoke in a husky voice. "Ummmm - good. Huh. Anyway, ahhhh... I think we should be going Denise. We have things to do at home, right?" "I hope so," she said, and steered her husband out the door. She looked back and gave me a thumbs up as I closed it behind them. I leaned against the wall. I'd never thought of myself as attractive or sexy. But once I put on female clothing, I felt different. Did I really affect people the way she said I did? It hardly seemed possible. What should I do about it? Something to think about. But right now, it was time for Natasha and the surprise I had settled on. I went to my bedroom, took out some of my new purchases, and slipped into them. I had an hour before Natasha got home. I played out the plan in my head and grabbed the things I would need to pull it off. I went to the family room and turned on the TV. I got out a box of chocolates I'd found in one cupboard and ate a few, leaving the wrappers on the coffee table. I slowly teetered around the house in my first ever four-inch heels. They weren't quality footwear, something picked out to go with my outfit. I hoped a better heel would be more comfortable when I finally got around to mastering these torture devices. These were killing my feet. I gratefully eased onto a stool in the kitchen, ready to play my part. My cell rang. I half expected it to be Natasha saying she was delayed on a call, but it was Rachel. "Hi, Rach," I said. "Little sister! Glad I caught you. What's going on?" "Nothing," I said. "You?" I looked at my dress and smirked. Nothing I was going to tell her about. "Natasha said you guys were living together now. That's great." I knew Natasha and Rachel had exchanged a few calls. Natasha was hellbent on saving her, something that would most likely end in disaster. "She said you were going shopping today. What did you get?" "Oh, nothing." "Sure is a lot of nothing going on out there. Whenever you clam up that way, you're hiding something. I wish I could see your face. When you get caught, you blush to make the strawberries jealous. Remember when you started masturbating? I think you were 13." "What?" I said. "I don't know what you're talking about." How'd she know about that? I'd been very careful. You had to be living with three sisters. "Oh come on, sis. It was so cute. You'd catch a glimpse of one of us in our underwear, or even out of it, and you'd turn bright red and run off to your bedroom. It wouldn't be long before we'd hear the bedsprings creaking and then you'd be moaning and trying to cover it up and then that sharp intake of breath that you tried to smother that said you'd climaxed. Didn't you think we'd hear it through our shared wall? Miriam and Bekah used to have their ears glued up to it, giggling and whispering to each other. They wanted to burst into your room with a polaroid and take a picture. I told them I'd make their lives hell if they did, so they let you be. A boy needs his orgasms, right?" I was definitely blushing now. "I think maybe you're remembering things wrongly," I said. "Don't play coy with me, girlfriend. You don't think we weren't all doing the same thing in our room? Miriam and Bekah were particularly active. I can't tell you the times I was woken up out of a deep sleep to hear them moaning in unison while they played rubber ducky with each other under the sheets. I can't believe mom let them sleep together in the same bed until I moved out." "Maybe we should talk about something else?" I said. "Sure. I called for a reason. Wanted you to know before somebody else got to you first. Mom's been trying to call you, and it's the kind of thing she'd want to preach about." I had a dozen unanswered calls from my mother stacked up in voice mail, and I had no intention of listening to them. "I haven't heard anything," I said. "Good. Frank and I are getting a divorce." "What? I knew that Natasha's advice would cause problems." I said. "Not a bit. Calm down. She didn't have a chance to get started. That day you came to visit mom and then stormed out? We were all supposed to sleep over, but after everything blew up and you left, I went home. Mom was fit to be tied and I couldn't handle all her venom." "That's understandable. She's a real piece of work." And since Rachel was the only one of us that had remained in Dubuque, she had to bear it all. "When I got home, it was clear I wasn't expected. Frank was screwing Darlene Batts in our bed. She had the manners to be embarrassed but Frank was defiant. Turns out it was my fault, to hear him tell it. Not able to give him kids, not happy to be living on a farm, demanding too much of him in bed. I got a room in a hotel and stewed over it for 24 hours. Then I said, okay, fine. Frank was right. I hated living on a farm, and we'd failed in the offspring department, and he was terrible at sex. This was a chance for a new beginning." "I'm so sorry," I said. "Don't be. I'm not. I'm happier than I've been in years. He can have Darlene, a 100% grass-fed American-bred heifer. I never knew he liked his women with udders. I must have been a great disappointment to him in that regard. But now that he's gone, I get the life I'd secretly dreamed about. Natasha was a great help talking me though my feelings. You found yourself a gem. She sent me a book - A Woman's Guide to Happiness in Marriage. It's about female led relationships." She was silent for a moment. "Is that what you're in?" I had nothing to hide. "Yes. Trying it out. Feeling my way, really." "And you're satisfied? The book says men are happiest when they have a woman in charge of them. Are you happy?" "Natasha is a special woman." "I guess I've got a lot to think about," she said. "Lingerie." "What?" "That's what I was shopping for. Lingerie. You asked earlier." I knew this would get her mind off any confused feelings that might be plaguing her. She made me describe the experience in detail and recount what I'd purchased. Even to what I was wearing at the moment, and what my plans for the evening were. I answered all her questions honestly. "You certainly have changed, sis. More power to you. I have a confession to make. I never knew you were this brave - making a change like you're making. It impressed me like nothing you'd ever done before. When I was first dealing with the fallout from Frank's cheating, your example kept me grounded. I love you more than I ever have before. I want you to have fun tonight. You deserve it." "I will. And I love you, too." We said goodbye and I put the phone down on the counter. Natasha certainly had known about Rachel's divorce, and hadn't say anything to me. That was fine. Rachel was the one that had to tell me, and Natasha had respected that. Good for her. Fifteen minutes later I heard Natasha pull her car into the garage. I carefully stood up and walked into the kitchen, my heels clicking on the tile floor. My feet still ached, the heels particularly. How did women do this? I heard the entry door close and shut. "Muffin, are you here?" Natasha called out. We'd had a heart to heart on nicknames - she'd been calling me Lollipop but I hated that. We agreed that Muffin was a better choice. I kind of liked it in a sappy way. I picked up the feather duster and went to meet her. "Monsieur, le mistress is out for ze evening. Only Fifi is here to greet you. May I take your coat?" Natasha stared at me, her mouth agape. She took me in from head to toe in a single glance. I was wearing a classic French maid's outfit, black with white lace trim and a small apron tied around my waist. The skirt was very short, and the petticoat beneath it held it splayed out to the sides. There was no hiding the tops of my stockings, and the slightest bob would reveal my panties. I had on four-inch heels and a small maid's cap. The bright red nails and lipstick were in sharp contrast to my cream-colored complexion. "Holy mother of god," she said. "FiFi has been working so hard, monsieur. It is my first day but I have accomplished so much, oui?" "Is my supper ready for me, FiFi? I'm sure the mistress of the house left instructions about that." "Oh, monsieur, I am so sorry. I was so focused on ze cleaning zat I haven't started it." Natasha ran a hand along the lamp table in the foyer where we were standing. She held it up so I could see. "Dust. Have you really been cleaning, Fifi?" "Oui, monsieur. So hard I have been cleaning." "Kitchen, FiFi," Natasha said, pointing. I tottered into the indicated room, ignoring the pain in my feet. When we arrived, she told me to slowly rotate so she could inspect me. "The seams of your stockings aren't straight," she said when I had completed the twirl. "We have standards here, and a properly worn uniform is one of them." "Oui, monsieur. Fifi is so embarrassed." Natasha turned her head. "Is that the TV blaring in the den?" I followed her as quickly as I could. The Home Shopping Club was playing on the television. They were selling jewelry. "Were you watching this?" Natasha asked. I hung my head. "And there are candy wrappers on the coffee table. Have you been sneaking the mistress's sweets?" I used my feather duster to brush the wrappers onto the floor and turned off the television. Natasha frowned at me. "Fifi, I am terribly disappointed. In a few short minutes you've demonstrated that you're lazy, slovenly, and not to be trusted. What do you suggest I do about that?" "Perhaps monsieur could give Fifi a good talking to?" "We've moved far beyond a scolding, missy." She took a seat on the couch. "Come here and lay down over my knees. You're going to get a spanking." My mouth hung open in surprise. I put my hands protectively behind me. If Natasha gave a spanking, she wouldn't do it in half-measures. "Mademoiselle...I mean monsieur...Fifi is afraid of ze spanking." The thought of it was making me flustered. Natasha pointed to her lap. "Fifi should have thought of that before she donned a maid's uniform." "Oui, monsieur." I swallowed hard, but took the indicated position. "So, let's see what Fifi has under her dress, shall we?" She pushed the skirt portion of my uniform above my waist. "My, a white petticoat. Very chic. And beneath that? Aha. A pair of ruffle panties. Tr?s ?rotique." She began to slowly slide my panties down my thighs. "Your squirming, Fifi. Are you nervous?" "No, monsieur. Whenever anyone removes Fifi's panties in zis way, she gets excited." "So that explains the hardness I feel pressing against my thigh?" she chuckled. "Oui, monsieur." "And this is a new garter belt if I'm not mistaken. It's very attractive. I bet you're an excellent lingerie shopper." She stopped when the panties were pushed below my knees. "I'm going to need your help, Fifi," she said. She took my hands and placed the fabric from the petticoat in their grasp. "Hold your petticoat out of the way. I'll need unhindered access to that pretty little derri?re of yours. I think it's important that a girl participate in her own punishment. It makes for a more effective lesson." She began lightly rubbing her hands over my exposed flesh. "I love the skin tone. You're like a saucer of cream, waiting to be lapped up." A sharp slap shivered one of my cheeks. The suddenness and the sting were a surprise. I yipped in response. Seconds later a second slap struck my other cheek. "Please, monsieur. Fifi will be good." There was a hint of desperation in my voice. "I'm sure she will after she's learned her lesson. A maid's life is a hard life." She returned to massaging my bottom. Smack. Another strike. Smack, smack, smack. I almost jumped out of her grasp. "Owwwwww!" I said. "Has Fifi been counting?" she said. "Or are we starting at one now." Counting? I tried to remember how many had landed. "Six?" I said hesitantly. "Good guess, Fifi. Looks like you've saved yourself some additional distress." She continued to lightly massage me. The skin felt warm and had a tingling feeling where her hands had landed. "So far I've been taking it easy on you. There are four more strokes to be delivered. I must warn you, they'll be firmer than the ones so far. Are you ready, Fifi? It's for your own good." "Oui, monsieur." I gritted my teeth. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. I writhed in her lap. With each strike I squealed. It helped to bridge me between each blow. I panted in relief when the last one landed. I tried to rise but she told me to stay in place. I heard the click of a cellphone camera. "You took a photo of Fifi's distress, monsieur?" I said. "If you could only see what I can see. That skin of yours really reddens up. You're a very attractive shade right now. It looks like there's a bonfire burning." That wasn't the only part of me that was on fire, but I'm sure she could feel the evidence of that. "So I'm preserving it for you. We'll print up a photo and hang it on your bedroom wall. I'm sure you'll want it as a reminder to be a better maid." "Oh certainly, monsieur. Ze next time Fifi is wearing a maid's uniform, she'll be a very good girl." "I'm glad we agree. And now I think that monsieur needs some attention paid to certain parts of the anatomy. All this work has given monsieur quite the appetite, in a carnal way." I stood up and pulled my panties back into place. As I moved to take my position between her legs, she grabbed me by the hand. "Lift you skirt, Fifi," she said. I raised it as asked. She pulled my panties open by the waistband. "Have you done some new sculpting?" she asked. I blushed. "Oui, monsieur. Fifi felt zat a landing strip was ze most appropriate design for her pubic display. It is more hygienic for monsieur's use." She ran a finger through my thatch, a one-inch wide, two-inch long area. She gave the hairs a playful tug. "That's very thoughtful of you, Fifi. It's damn cute. I'm glad you decided to make the change." I nodded and knelt between her legs. I undid the belt holding up her pants and removed them. She had an attractive pair of baby blue bikinis on underneath and I helped her out of them. She kept her own pubic display neatly trimmed in a triangular pattern that covered most of her panty zone. I liked that she largely preserved her natural carpet. It said she was the boss and my little strip said I was the subordinate. I took to kissing her all over her pubic area. She reached down with her hands and guided my face lower. As I began to moisten her with my mouth, I saw a look of hunger in her eyes. A predatory look. I swallowed. What had I awakened? I gave her labia and clitoris my full enthusiasm. Her labia was very prominent even when she wasn't aroused, especially the outer lips, and when she was, it was engorged. It was a door I had to open, and when opened, it wrapped around the sides of my lips like a pair of butterfly wings. I loved doing this to her, and she was primed. I would see to it that her appetite was satisfied. As I worked, I reached up with a hand and undid the buttons of her shirt. I tried to shift her bra, but couldn't get it to move from my kneeling position. She shrugged out of the straps and exposed her magnificent breasts. I played with a nipple as I continued to tease her with my tongue. She lay there with eyes half open, enjoying the fires I was kindling. I could see the muscles of her abdomen tense and relax, tense and relax, her body doing its own sinuous dance to the tune I was playing on her. "You've learned some new moves," she said, each word separated by a little gasp. I had. I'd watched several internet videos on pleasing a woman with your tongue and had picked several techniques to try. I must have picked some excellent ones, because she shuddered and gasped with every technique I brought into play. It encouraged me to try even harder. I did love to bring her pleasure, and doing it well made me happy. What more could I ask for in life than loving a woman that let me do this to her? I was used to the way her vagina shivered and gaped when she was starting to cum, so I rode the waves with her as her body opened like a flower. She thrust herself against my face, grinding against me in her release. When she was done, I pulled out of her thighs. My face was wet with the exuberance of her pleasure. She had her eyes closed, a sheen of sweat showing on her brows. "I could hardly tell who was having more fun, me or you," she panted. "You were moaning as much as I was." That came as a surprise. I hadn't known I was making any noise at all. "Don't be embarrassed, It's cute. You're right there with me. It's kind of a turn on that doing that to me turns you on. It's flattering, sweety." I took a seat on the couch beside her, folding the petticoat to the side so I could sit comfortably. I began to kiss her neck and her exposed breasts. "I bet Fifi thinks she's earned a little playtime herself?" She had a teasing look in her eyes and a wicked lilt to her words, a promise of something exciting to come. "Can Fifi take off her shoes, monsieur?" I said. She frowned. "Go ahead." I stood up and pulled my feet out of their cages and sighed with relief. "Wait, babe," she said in alarm. "Is that blood? Are your heels bleeding?" I looked and they were. It was evident through my stockings. She knelt at my feet and undid the garter clasps holding up my hose, then gently peeled the stockings off one leg at a time. She had me sit on the couch while she examined my feet. "You've got blisters in several places, but your beautiful skin is torn at the heels. You stay right there, beloved." She returned with a basin of warm water, some bandages, tape, a towel, and some ointment. "I'm so so sorry. I thought your complaints about your footwear were just part of your Fifi character. I can't believe I didn't see this." She bathed my feet in the water, then dried them off with the towel. "I guess I was blinded by your walk. You sway so prettily when you're walking in heels as high as those were. Another case of beauty hypnotizing the beholder." She applied the ointment, then added gauze and tape to protect the wound. "Best I can do, babe. I'll change the dressings every evening. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you or your perfect skin. Come on. Let's go into the bedroom so I can snuggle away your hurts." She took me by the hand and led me to her bed. She propped up some pillows so we could sit comfortably. I wriggled into her arms and she kissed me on the cheek. "Your so precious to me, babe. Never ever hurt yourself for me. I'll end up blaming myself." It was comfortable and warm sitting with her arms around me. How does one describe a complete feeling of contentment? In her arms or over her knees I felt safe and loved. I had someone to tell me what to do, and I fit within the compass of that relationship. I knew she'd take care of me and all I had to do was love her in return. "How did the shopping go today?" she asked. "Wonderful." I told her of my purchases and she said "Can't wait for the fashion show." I giggled. "It was a little weird," I said. "Denise got topless in front of me, then had me squeeze her breasts." Natasha laughed. "Never met a guy so happy to have a pair of boobs. She's giddy about them. Don't think you're the only person she's showed them off to. I'd bet half the people in the association have seen and handled them." When I looked at her with a concerned look, she added "Denise isn't promiscuous, nothing like that. She's enthusiastic. She just likes to show off her boobs." "She keeps telling me I should get my own. She mentioned something about a Tau Iota Tau Sorority? Is it something I can join?" "Babe, it's a joke. Tau Iota Tau Sorority is TITS. She wants you to join the titty club. I'm not even sure it exists. Though with the raw material your packing," she ran a hand over my chest and found a nipple though my dress and bra, "you'd put them all to shame." She gently squeezed my nipple and I felt a little thrill shoot though my body. "I won't ask what happens in the titty club, though if that copulating minx Lissa is a member, I have my suspicions." "Huh," I said. "I feel like an idiot. Do you want me to get my own breasts?" "I guess you'll make me keep saying it, Muffin. Your body is yours to do with as you please. Don't do things for me, do them for yourself. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy." Her words made me feel good. "Muffin would like to kiss you, long, passionately, and repeatedly. Can we? "Tsk tsk," she said. "The things you make me do for you." She began to kiss me and I responded. I'd kissed before, but never like this. It was slow and surrounding and getting lost and letting go. Each kiss sent a shiver through me. She pressed against my lips with her tongue and I opened to let her penetrate me. She explored me and I wanted to press her deep inside. Her hand found its way beneath my skirt and petticoat. I spread my legs to give her better access. Her fingers discovered the waistband to my panties and slid slowly underneath. Nothing hurried, nothing forced. Invitation and acceptance. I moaned, unable to prevent that expression of my mounting need. I began to suck on her tongue. She slid it in and out, a rhythm that my body responded to. She stroked my cock, already slick with desire. I tried to delay my climax, wanted this moment to last forever. It ended too soon in spasm that bent my whole body like a bow. She kept her tongue inside my mouth while I came; the only sound I was capable of making was a drawn out Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. She fell back away from me. We were silent for a minute. "I hope you liked that as much as I did." She held up a hand covered in cum. "The evidence is overwhelming." She held her hand to my lips and let me lick it clean. I let out a satisfied sigh. "See what Fifi gets when she's a good girl?" Natasha said. "Oui, monsieur. Fifi gets to be a very happy girl." "Then let me give you something I picked out," she said. She got out of bed and went into the library. She returned with a package wrapped in a pink bow. "For you, my love." I carefully undid the bow and set it aside. I wanted to keep it as a remembrance of this evening, this feeling of closeness. Inside the wrapping paper was slim volume. I opened it and read the title page: Tulips and Chimneys. I knew what it was. E.E. Cummings' first published volume of poetry. It was inscribed to "S, for whom all poems are weak imitations of a deeper truth. E. E. C." I hugged it to my chest. "This is a very rare book. How did you find one with an inscription like that? I feel like he wrote it for me all those years ago - the 'S' he really meant it for." She smiled. "I carry your heart with me, I carry it in my heart." "You know how to make me cry," I said. We spent an hour reading poetry to each other. Then we fell asleep in each other's arms.