This is a work of FICTION for ADULTS only. Do NOT read this if you are under 18 or if you are not an adult according to the laws of your state or country. Do NOT read this if you are offended by fantasies involving sexually explicit material.
Written by Bethany Jacques, comments welcome to bethjac@hotmail.com

 

A Brief History of Tina                     by: Bethany Jacques

 

1 Monday

It really has been one hell of a week and more to come maybe, though I really am not sure how this is all going to work out. An awful lot has happened since last Monday, I am just beginning to make sense of it. Or at least, some sense.

Monday I decided to ‘shake myself out of it’. Out of the depression of the past six weeks at least. I have been living here, in my Uncle Jack’s house, since that awful day six weeks ago. Since the car crash.

Both my parents were killed. OK, at my age, I should have been able to cope with that, but on top of all my other problems it was a massive shock. Just before that my Dad’s business folded, the shop we were running together had to close. Blasted hypermarkets, no good at all for the small retailer, the business I had helped start and get going fifteen years ago, it just couldn’t compete. Then just after Christmas it really went wrong, unsold stock, bills, Dad just had to give it all up to pay the creditors.

Which left me jobless. Then to top it all two days later that big motorway pile-up, my parents’ car was right in the middle of it. At least that put paid to any stories about suicide, the television pictures proved that. But the insurance money, what little there was, all got taken to help sort out the debts. The house too, the extra borrowing to try to keep going had eaten up that too.

Which left me on my own, Not entirely penniless, I know now why Dad insisted I keep an account in y own name, he wouldn’t let me put everything of my own back into the store. Thankfully Uncle Jack, who had married Mum’s younger sister, he took pity on me at the funeral, offered me a place to stay, he is on his own right now. He has had his own share of tragedy. His wife, my Aunt Jean, herself died, about four years ago, a terrible wasting illness which left her fading and in some pain for about three months at the end. But at least he still had Emma, lovely Emma, she was away at college. He was on his own in this big house and welcomed some male company.

Male?

Well, yes. And we did get on together, he was very understanding, didn’t push me, said I could take all the time I needed to think about a job, a place of my own. For five weeks we got on very well indeed, went to a couple of football matches, in the pub a few times, a couple of rounds of golf, helped each other with cooking and housework and so on. Not that he was at home much in the day, his own business has really taken off, he spends loads of time at the office, with clients and so on. So in the day I have been left to my own devices.

So to last Monday. It had really been coming for a while, I just KNEW it had to happen.

Twice in the previous week I had, for the first time in several years, indulged in my own rather peculiar hobby. Dressing up, that is. I just love it, wearing sexy underwear, a tight dress or skirt, high heels and so on. I know it’s a bit odd but apparently quite a lot of guys get a kick out of it, dressing in women’s clothes. I had investigated my cousin’s wardrobe and found several items which would fit me. And more surprising, a lot of Aunt Jean’s stuff in a wardrobe in my Uncle’s room. I knew, I had heard several times from my own family, that Jack had taken her death very badly indeed, they had been extremely happily married for nearly twenty years. But I hadn’t realised he was still so affected, even after this time he had still not sorted or got rid of many of her clothes.

She had been a very attractive woman, as had her sister, my mother. Whether subconsciously I wanted to bring her back, or my Aunt Jean, I don’t know. But having not ‘dressed’ for maybe ten years myself, the urge returned when I saw her outfits, her shoes, even a wig. With those and some of Emma’s stuff I thought I could do a good job on myself.

I had twice the previous week tried on some things, found some sling-back shoes I could adjust to nearly fit. That Monday was to be my first full try-out. Uncle Jack was going in late because he was having dinner later with a client, that gave me over nine hours on my own. And me of it in semi-darkness, I could maybe even go for a short walk in the garden and enjoy the breeze on my nyloned legs.

When Uncle Jack set off that day I moved into action, catching a bus into town and doing a little ‘femme’ shopping, I bought a pair of tights for myself, some panties’ a few makeup items and pieces of jewellery. I got back to the house late afternoon and took a long, hot, sweet-smelling bath. After a light snack I spread my choice of clothing out over the bed in Emma’s room. I felt the need for a slightly feminine environment to take on this task. It really didn’t take me long, memories of my dressing up ten years earlier came flooding back, the thrill of sliding my legs into tights was still there. I ha bought a pair of American tights, pantihose they were called, not too sheer but nice enough to feel really good.

The make-up skills too, came back to me. I had always prided myself on my accomplishments there, on taking care to overdo it just a little to give a really feminine appearance to my masculine face.

And within an hour I was there! Done! Finished! I stood looking into the long mirror in Emma’s room, delighted with what I saw. A woman. Definitely, non eof my old skills had gone. A smart and, I like to think, rather attractive woman, tight white sweater (Emma’s) over black bra (Aunt Jean’s) with a short-ish deep blue skirt, black tights and high-ish heels. I managed the shoes quite well even though they ere a little small for me.

The wig had puzzled me at first but then I realised. Aunt Jean, by all accounts, had not been a vain woman (unlike me, I thought!) but she did like to look nice. And when she began to get ill her hair was badly affected. She must have bought the wig then, to delay the onset of the effect of the illness on her appearance. That partly explained it. The wig was basically her own colour and style, a deep red shade, basically the family colour. My own hair was the same, so had Mother’s been, and Emma’s, though hers had become rather lighter after two months holiday in Australia last year.

What it did not explain was the other wig, longer, fuller, and a deep blonde shade. Both wigs were a far better quality than the one I had used some years earlier. I stuck to the red one, thinking it would go better with my basic skin tones.

I spent an hour wandering round downstairs, posing, sitting and crossing my legs, enjoying again the feel of nice hosiery on my legs and thighs, then went for a short walk down the garden in the evening sun. I realised the time was beginning to get on and headed back to the house, watching my reflection in the big picture window at the back.

I looked towards the back door.

‘Timothy! TIMOTHY !"

Uncle Jack was standing there, silhouetted against the light! My heart missed several beats. Then before he had time to say anything else, I pushed past him, across the lounge and up the stairs. My mind was in a turmoil. Blast! I had NOT got the time wrong, he was not due back for several hours yet. But too late for recriminations, the damage was done.

‘Timothy! Wait!’ Uncle called after me. I heard his footsteps, heavy on the stairs behind me. I dashed into the closest room and, since there was no lock on the door, quickly grabbed a chair and jammed it in place under the knob. Immediately I saw the knob turn and the door move, but it would not open. I sat on the bed and quickly tore off my wig and began to unfasten my shoes.

I realised I couldn’t change, not fully anyway, most of my clothes were in my own room, I had dashed into Emma’s in my hurry. I paused and breathed deeply. I heard Uncle Jack’s voice outside the door.

"Timothy, please, wait. I’m not mad at you but we need to talk. Just stop and think for a minute."

That I had done.

‘Are you listening, Timothy? I have something important to say. Please. I am going down to the kitchen, I need a drink and I think you maybe do too. Please, don’t rush into changing or anything. Come down as you are. OK?"

"OK" I called. I heard him shuffle and go down the stairs. I moved the chair, opened the door and, in stocking feet and without my wig, I followed.

In the kitchen, Uncle Jack was just getting two cans from the fridge. He opened both and pushed one across the table towards me, taking a long draught from the other. E sat on opposite sides of the small table there, silent for half a minute, drinking, thinking.

"Timothy, I am glad you came down. And I am glad this " - he looked me over, acknowledging my incongruous appearance - "is out in the open."

I shuffled slightly in my seat, nervously. I was a guest in this house and I had abused the hospitality offered to me. I wondered how Uncle Jack was taking this so calmly.

"Right, let me say what I need to say".

Here it comes, I thought, shuffling even more, and for once not really enjoying the thrill as my skirt rode up to expose my thighs.

"I can’t pretend not to be concerned about this. But you may be wondering just why I am taking this so calmly."

Was Uncle Jack a mind-reader?

"But when you dashed past me to go upstairs, and I properly realised what was going on, I was annoyed - for about 15 seconds. And then I remembered something your Aunt Jean and I discussed during her last few weeks. Basically it gave me a whole new outlook on life, in one short sentence, it dictated how we spent our remaining weeks together. In simple terms, life is too short, if there is something you really want to do, go for it!"

We spent nearly half an hour talking about the situation, why I did what I did, what I felt like, was I gay, did I ever go out dressed and so on. At the end of it I was much more relaxed, it had been really weird at first discussing such things with another person, specially Uncle Jack. But I did feel much more relaxed. I had assured him that in no way would I embarrass him by going out dressed, in fact I never had, until that day absolutely no-one had ever seen me ‘dressed’.

"OK then, Timothy. It’s beginning to get late and I have to be up in the morning. But first - like I said, if you want to do something you should really go for it. So. Before we turn in, how about letting me have a proper look at my ‘niece’? Go on back up while I clear things down here, put on your wig and re-fix your makeup, let me see just what - or rather who - we have been talking about."

I padded back upstairs and sat to re-do my makeup - I looked AWFUL. Whatever must Uncle Jack have thought of me. My mascara was smeared and, without the wig I simply just looked like a man dressed rather stupidly. Which was not the impression I wanted to give. I took my time, removing and re-doing makeup took longer than I thought, I had never had to do that before.

Finally I was ready. I stood and slid on the red wig, it really was a much better quality than I was used to, and slid my feet into the shoes.

"Timothy, are you OK? Ready?" I heard Uncle call from the foot of the stairs.

"Coming Uncle" I replied, my ears jarring a little at the un-feminine tone as I shouted. I must try, I thought, to keep my voice gentle, I imagined I could imitate a more feminine tone.

I headed down the stairs and into the lounge, where Uncle, sat with his newspaper, looked up. And, I was absolutely DELIGHTED to see, raised his eyebrows and grinned as he saw me, fully dressed, really for the first time.

"Well, Timothy. I am amazed. No, really, amazed. I only got a glimpse before but you really have done an exceptionally good job. If I didn’t know the truth I think I really would take you for a woman. Please, just walk around a little, let me see."

And I did just that, strolled round and posed just like I had done before, but this time for an audience.

"OK, young lady, I promise you, you really do look the part. I’m glad you did this, Timothy, it does at least show me you are in some way serious about this, that means I have to be serious about it too."

We sat together and talked about the whole thing for several minutes more, the Uncle Jack rose and held his hand out towards me. I took it, and gave him a little squeeze.

"Uncle, thank you. Thank you so much for being so supportive, so understanding. You don’t know what this means to me."

"Timothy. Just one thing. Please. That wig, you will realise, it is - or rather was - Jean’s. She got it when she became ill. Well, you look very much like her when you are wearing t. There is another wig upstairs somewhere, I think I might prefer it if you tried that one. You do have in se way the ‘Wilson’ face, you have the look of Jean, your cousin Emma does too. When I saw you, just for a split second ‘ - I thought - "

"Uncle Timothy, I am sorry, I never would have - you know - if I had really thought -"

"That’s OK, Timothy, you weren’t expecting to be interrupted, were you?" he continued.

That night, after six weeks of unsettled nights, I slept well.

 

2 Tuesday

The next morning over our usual light breakfast, Uncle Jack didn’t refer to the previous evening’s activities until the end, as we were clearing away the dishes.

"Timothy, I have to go now. Back at the usual time, I hope, just so you know."

He smiled, an acknowledgement that many things still stayed the same despite my revelations. I thought of dressing again later that day, but didn’t. As a ‘thank you’ I spent the day gardening, mowing the lawn, something Uncle Jack didn’t like doing. He had put it off the previous weekend, so I did it for him. And did a good job too, though I say it myself. Uncle Jack did come home at the usual time, I had a decent meal prepared for the two of us. We watched a little TV (television!!), then Jack wanted to show me something upstairs. In his bedroom he opened the wardrobe where I had found Jane’s skirt the previous day.

"That top you were wearing last night, Timothy, I think it was Emma’s. I know you couldn’t really have asked me but - I think it would be best not to wear her things. But all this was your Aunt Jane’s, and I KNOW I should have sorted it before. It has been four years now."

I had a proper look at the contents of the rack in there, I could see more than I recalled.

"But now I can put it to good use. How about you sort through it all tomorrow. Take any things you want for yourself and bag the rest, we’ll take it to the charity shop in town. OK?"

I was rather amazed. Uncle Jack was actually giving me clothes to dress in, as well as permission to do so. Mt reply was a bit flustered.

"Uncle Jack, I couldn’t, these were Aunt Jean’s clothes, I -"

"Nonsense Timothy, you’ll be doing me a favour, I’ve just put off sorting these clothes too long. Please?"

I just had to say yes.

"But I’d like to do something for the clothes, how about I give an extra donation to the charity shop, to sort-of pay for them. In a good cause?"

"Great idea, Timothy."

 

2 Wednesday

So I did just that, I spent the next morning going through the wardrobe in the big bedroom, sorting through the clothes in there. Many were - and ere always going to be - too small for me. I ended up putting these and, I very much regretted, most of the shoes, in three large bags to go to the charity shop. It was a surprisingly exciting time, but sad too, remembering that all these had been worn by my late aunt. By mid-afternoon I was nearly done, the final item I discovered was a suit. In one sense an ordinary suit, jacket and skirt, but I was enthralled by it. It is a deep grey with a thin maroon stripe, very classy, an ‘executive’ suit. Expensive, obviously, and either hardly worn or very well looked after. I looked at the clock - two hours, that’s how much time I would have if ......

I headed for the bathroom, stripped and showered, then began my makeover once more but this time I was not out to impress just myself. Within ninety minutes I was down in the kitchen, assembling dinner, well, not a full meal today, more of a major snack, for the two of us. The suit fits me, I am delighted to say, like a glove, mid-length jacket over a classic white ruffled blouse, tight-ish skirt, straight, hemline about eight inches above my knees. I had done my nails too, in a deep-ish pink gloss which matched my lipstick, and I was very surprised the wig colour, the shiny ash-blonde, suited my own colouring so well. The wig was also a more glamorous style than the straight-cut red one. This one is longer an fuller, more curly, definitely more ‘glam’.

I was sitting at the dining table when Uncle Jack came in, my legs crossed and showing quite a bit of thigh. As he entered I sipped at the glass of white wine I had just poured, then I smiled and offered a glass to him.

"I thought this would go rather well with the meal" I suggested gently, holding out the glass to him, trying to keep my voice quiet and, I hoped, convincing. Well, what do you think?"

It was obvious I wasn’t asking him about the wine. He sipped the glass himself, looking me over, then smiled.

"Timothy, I am VERY impressed, I thought you looked good on Monday night, right now I am absolutely delighted. I see an attractive woman. Very smart, well groomed, one who takes care of herself, who likes to look good and works at it. Very good indeed."

I glowed with satisfaction. "Thank you, Uncle Jack, you don’t know how much that means to me."

And I spent the whole of that evening, dressed, in company, happy. We had our meal, I served it, cleared away and then did coffee, we sat together afterwards discussing things, changes, then Uncle Jack surprised me.

"Timothy you really do make an attractive woman. Look, my car is still out, let’s go out."

Out? Out?!! I was aghast at the thought, Jack could see I was beginning to panic.

"Hang on, Timothy, nothing major. There’s a little woodland about half a mile from here, Emma and I often go there to relax in the evening, a short stroll along the path there, that’s all I am suggesting. Nobody else around usually. How about it?"

So we did. Uncle Jack drove us there and we strolled side by side along the path, about 200 yards, then back towards the car. He could see I was thrilled by this until, just as we approached the car, another pulled up beside his and another couple got out. An older man, maybe nearly sixty, and someone I took to be his wife headed towards us, hand-in-hand. Jack grabbed my hand, I was shaking.

"Timothy, calm down, just keep on walking, they won’t give you a second glance I promise."

And they walked right past us, Jack acknowledged the man’s greeting with a ‘Good Evening’ in reply, and we strolled on. I was relieved to sit in the car again.

"Sorry, Timothy, he DID give you a second glance."

Obviously I must have looked worried.

"He was checking out your legs!"

 

3 Thursday

The next morning we were both up early to breakfast together. I was ‘Timothy’ again. Uncle said he was due back a little late that day, he had a business lunch and wouldn’t need a full meal. Again he was helping me, letting me know I could greet him dressed if I wanted to. I really did want to but that day it would not be possible. I had a ‘date’ myself, or rather an appointment, at the employment bureau in the afternoon. I was after a job, I couldn’t just hang round living off Uncle Jack full-time. But just after lunch, as I was about to set off to catch the bus into town, the phone rang. They had staffing problems at the bureau, could I re-arrange for next week. Sure I could.

But I had missed the chance to ‘dress’, I was disappointed. I got the impression that Uncle Jack was too

"Timothy. that sorting out you did yesterday, we’ll take Jean’s stuff to the charity shop tomorrow morning. But you forgot something, well, I didn’t tell you, in the bottom drawer of the dresser by the window there is more. That needs looking at too. I think you might get a bit of a surprise there"

I didn’t look that evening, it was getting late and a plan had begun to form in my mind.

 

Friday

In the morning Uncle reminded me about sorting the extra drawer of clothes, then grabbed his coat, his keys and his briefcase and was off. I cleared the breakfast things and them went up to the big bedroom, wondering what the ‘surprise’ was. And he was right. The drawer did contain yet more feminine things, and what things. Mainly underwear, but rather more exotic than Aunt Jean’s everyday stuff. Several coloured bra and panties sets, a basque, black and obviously intended to do a lot of figure-shaping, stockings, several pairs, in fact to a transvestite, wonderful stuff. But, to my great regret, no suitable shoes.

Then something Uncle had said the previous evening came into my mind. He had said he had found out about a special shop in town, one which dealt with transvestites and their special needs. He warned me it was more of a sex shop really, but he did think some of the things they had might be appropriate for me. So I caught the bus into town just after breakfast.

The shop was where he had thought, tucked away just off the main shopping street, and I must admit I did blush a little as soon as I walked in. There were indeed many weird items on sale there. But the clothing, and especially the shoes, thrilled me! After looking round for a few minutes, as a rather over-made-up assistant came over to ask if I wanted help, I declined her offer and left the shop - but only to go out and round the corner to the bank. I did have some money of my own, and this seemed a suitable moment to ‘invest it’ in finding out exactly what sort of life I wanted to have.

Over an hour later I left the shop having spent several hundreds in one go, on about eight items. Well, in fact a lot more if you count them individually. After all a pair of breastforms counts as two, three pairs of shoes is six, two packs of false fingernails is twenty really, fake eyelashes counts as two, three pairs of clip earrings is another six. And one skirt, though it is so short, so tight, so shiny, so black, so - leather - it should only really count as a half.

On the way back to the bus I called at another store, emerging with yet more feminine luxuries, three pairs of black stockings, nail varnish of my own, lipstick, a few other items. I had decided to REALLY make a go of it, that afternoon indeed. A quick trip to a small supermarket followed, I was fairly laden down by now but I knew it was going to be worth it. I spent nearly half an hour sorting out things after I got home, arranging my purchases in my room, then setting out places for two in the dining room and preparing the good quality ‘ready meals’ I had bought so that ‘dinner a deux’ would be a simple but classy affair.

And so it was that, at precisely 1.30 p.m. I set to it, I thought about trying to shave my arms and legs but decided against it. I took the quick way out, smearing myself all over with a depilatory cream and then showering it - and my albeit fine body hair - away. Then a very hot, very scented bubble bath, luxuriating in it for as long as I dare, just dreaming of feminine things and inhaling the gorgeous sweet-scented odour from the very expensive bath oils I had just purchased. As I towelled myself dry I appreciated for the first time in a long time the feeling of smooth skin almost all over my body. It was heavenly. Then I shaved my face again, very carefully indeed.

Undies. A pair of black silk thong panties, full at the front to cover what I wanted to be covered, pulled up very tight. I started to get excited but tried to calm down, breathe deeply, control myself, just get on with it. The breastforms came next, I carefully followed the instructions for applying the adhesive and was delighted the colour was so close to my own skin tone. After lying down for more than the recommended five minutes I was delighted to feel their weight pulling down as I sat up. Me, for the first time, with breasts. The ‘cover-all make-up’ I had bought with it worked better than I had hoped, I could hardly see the edge when I merged it over the top of the forms and my own skin.

The basque came next, my skin was soft and smooth after my bath and, I hoped, ready for moulding. Indeed it was. After pulling the draw-strings as tight as I could I looped them over a door handle and put all my weight into pulling them even tighter. I could hardly breathe at first but, when I caught a quick glimpse of my shape in the big mirror, I knew it was worth it. Then I had to think about the sequence of what was to come next. The nails last, probably, they were rather long and I would have trouble dressing with them on. But my toenails, I could do them. I did, another first, spreading the creamy deep red liquid over all ten of them and enjoying every moment of the experience.

I was so excited - surely most women didn’t feel like this, dressing was almost an orgasm in itself. I calmed myself again and turned towards the rest of my makeup while my toes dried. I took my time, took care, this was to be as good a job as I could possibly carry out. A thin covering of a smooth foundation cream, it has a glorious silk sheen, I love it still. Just a little heavier down the sides of my nose and under my chin. Just a little blusher, not at all heavy, under my cheekbones.

I was very careful indeed with my make-up, being sure to produce crisp lines to my eye-liner end smooth silky lips. I resisted the temptation to inspect my face too closely at this stage, instead reaching for a hairbrush and smoothing my own hair straight back, then picked up the blonde wig. It fitted well, I reached round and clipped it into place, then revelled in gently brushing my very own golden locks. I had chosen big gold hoop earrings which I also clipped into place, then stood up. Time was getting on!

The basque had ‘settled’ onto me, and the uplift bra was now having its full effect, I looked down onto a very impressive bulging cleavage. But I had to get on, I unwrapped my new stockings, black, very sheer and seamed with a ‘cuban heel’ effect. Sliding them onto my freshly smoothed legs, and clipping the six garters into place was an experience I will never forget. Then I did sit down again to attach my long red fingernails, not with sticky pads as I had done before but with the proper adhesive, I wanted no mishaps to spoil the evening. Three gold rings and one small gold bracelet completed the effect, my hands really did look much more delicate, more graceful, more feminine.

And finally, nearly, my top and skirt. The blouse was one of Aunt Jean’s, black, sheer, see-through over my arms and with six gold buttons down the front. I undid the top three and clipped into place, difficult with those nails on, a black velvet choker with a single matching stud at the front. And then the skirt, I had hardly dared buy it but I couldn’t resist the temptation. I slid it up my legs, over my thighs and into place, straining a little to pull up the zip and fix the little clasp at the top. And then a wide gold belt round my waist.

My shoes! The skirt had excited me, those shoes totally thrilled every bone in my body. I had fallen in love with them in the TV shop. I had bought two other pairs, one with much lower and more sensible heels. This pair were in no way ‘sensible’. Shiny black patent, with gold-coloured 6" stiletto heels and ankle straps, each with a tiny gold clasp. I slipped them on, the feel of the nylon sliding in was exquisite, and they really did take some fastening, I was determined not to damage my nails. I stood up on them, my first time on such ultra-high heels, and walked around the room a little, marvelling at the way such heels made the muscles of my feet tense slightly and produce a pair of very effective, female-looking ankles. I felt as if I had been wearing them all my life, I loved it. And when I turned to look in the mirror, I gasped, the reflection I saw was absolutely everything I had hoped it would be - ‘sex on legs’!.

I grabbed my clutch bag, again black with a bright gold chain, and stuffed into it a few things from my coat pocket - a credit card for some reason, my own driving licence, a little money, then added my mascara and lipstick. I was ready.

In the kitchen I finished to last stages of sorting our evening meal, again revelling in those female sensations - walking about in very high heels, the tightness of my skirt as I stretched across the table. And some new ones to me, the feeling of the weight of my breasts as I leaned over, the slight awkwardness but nevertheless enjoyment as I tried to arrange the cutlery with my long red nails flashing in front of me. It was getting a bit too much, I opened the French windows and stood on the patio for a while, it was just beginning to get dark. The cool air on my nylonned legs, another gorgeous feminine feeling. Breathe in, I thought, calm down.

I went back into the dining room and turned the light on over the table, then dimmed it slightly. I opened the wine and poured myself a glass. I heard a car drive up and then footsteps coming over the gravel up to the front door.

"Hi Timothy, where are you?"

I walked through the double doors from the dining room into the hall. In a voice I hoped would sound gentle, feminine, a little bit sultry and sexy, I spoke.

"Hello darling"

The voice had exactly the right effect, alerted Uncle Jack to the fact that something was a bit different. And the greeting too, I had always said ‘Uncle Jack’, almost always, before. Now I was being more familiar, there must be a reason for it. Uncle Jack had just put his briefcase on the hall table, had his back to me. He turned and looked, seeing me silhouetted against the light from the dining room. I strode forward, feeling my breasts bounce, I smiled.

"Streuth! Timothy. You look sensational!"

Uncle Jack always did know exactly the right thing to say. I strolled forward to take the newspaper from under his arm and lie it on top of the briefcase.

"Thank you, Jack" And I kissed him lightly on the cheek! "Dinner is almost ready, I wanted to try for something special this evening. "

Uncle Jack was still staring. I watched his eyes as they moved their focus from my face and hair, down over my nervously heaving breasts, past my tight waist and over my skirt to my nylon-covered thighs, then down my long legs to my stilettos. Then he looked up again.

"I can hardly believe it, you look gorgeous. And definitely not a ‘Timothy’.

You need another name, in no way can I call you ‘Timothy’".

I had to think. In my own mind, over the years I had adopted several female names.

"How about ‘Tina’?" asked Uncle Jack.

Perfect. I smiled. "Yes, thanks, that will do very nicely indeed" . I took Jack’s arm and led him through into the dining room. "Hungry?" I asked as we approached the table.

"I could eat you, Tina" joked my Uncle.

As is often the case Uncle’s joke cleared the air, my nervousness faded, I was immediately more relaxed. Uncle held the chair for me, then sat opposite me, still staring.

"Really - er - Tina. You look gorgeous, no, I mean it. If I didn’t know I would definitely be attracted to such an attractive woman. And a good cook too!"

I was thrilled, and we began on our starter dish. The whole meal went so well, Uncle being very charming, paying me compliments, calling me ‘Tina’ all the way through, topping up my wine for me and so on. As we finished our coffee he stood up and held out his hand. I reached up to take it, and we strolled hand-in-hand into the lounge.

We just sat and talked for a while, me in an armchair, Uncle Jack on the sofa. After about half an hour he got up and disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of what was obviously champagne in a small ice bucket, with two glasses. He must have prepared that when he went to the bathroom just after the meal.

"I thought we should celebrate your coming out, Tina"

He poured us two glasses and held mine out, I stood to take it.

"Right, let’s do this properly" he said, smiling, taking my arms and linking it to his so we were joined as we sipped the champagne. We had already finished off the bottle of wine, I was just a little uncertain on my ultra-high heels. I felt his other hand grab my bum to steady me, and I giggled, sipping just a little more. His hand stayed in place and just began to slide up and down a little. His breathing was becoming heavier.

"Jack, you remember you said ‘Go for it’ if there is something you want to do. Well, what if someone else is involved, if you think they will approve but if you are not totally sure?"

"Well, Tina, if you think they will approve, then the same applies. You have to be ready to say sorry if you are wrong, but..."

I didn’t let him finish.

I reached across to him and with my arms round his neck I gently pulled him towards me. It was obvious I was going to kiss him. I looked for any signs of repulsion in his eyes and saw none. Our lips touched very briefly. I backed off.

"Do I need to say sorry?" I asked, looking intently into his eyes again. He didn’t answer, just stood there for a few moments. Then he grasped me firmly in his arms and kissed me again. His lips were soft and warm and extremely inviting, I began to move my mouth against his, to tease his lips, to push my tongue across them, as I did so I felt him respond. His hands moved across my back, he was grabbing my arse cheek again with his left hand, his right slid up to cup my breast.

We separated, both breathing heavily, but I think disturbed by events. I was still holding Uncle Jack’s hand. "Uncle Jack, are you really sure about this, I think we may be getting into something..."

My voice trailed off as I noticed the rather glazed look in his eyes, then he ‘came to’. "Timothy, I mean Tina, I’m not sure..."

Neither of us could express it. I picked up my champagne and sipped again, Uncle Jack followed suit. He sat down on the sofa and shuffled along, leaving room for me. I sat next to him and as I did so the hem of my skirt slid up to reveal my stocking tops, my garter strap, just a glimpse of bare thigh.

"Tina" gasped Jack as his hand slipped across my thigh and up inside my skirt "Christ, you are so hot, I have been horny all evening".

This time I wasn’t hesitant, I grabbed the back of his head, my own lips rushed to meet his, we kissed long and hard and with passion this time, our lips playing with each other’s, our tongues exploring, our hands groping, Uncle Jack was leaning on top of me, his hand reaching inside my blouse and surrounding the bra cup of my basque.

And I was loving it! The warmth of his passion excited me, to think that I had done this to a man, that he found me, ‘Tina’, exciting and desirable. My own left hand slid inside his shirt, sliding across his back, feeling the tension, teasing at the hairiness there, digging my nails in. The kiss lasted and lasted - and then finished.

We separated. Maybe Jack was thinking, getting worried, wondering what all this really meant. But I wasn’t wondering, I knew. I had felt the swelling between his legs as we had groped each other’s body, and smiled at him, looking straight in his eyes, smiling. I leaned over and kissed him again. He ‘woke up’ again from his dreaming and stared hard into my eyes. Did he see Timothy there, or Tina?

Whichever, my course of action was clear to me, I had come this far, so much farther than I had intended or dreamed of, I had to see it through. I reached down between his legs, and at my red-tipped fingers and began to slowly slide them up and down.

"Er - Tina". Jack had a slow smile spreading across his face. "That is fantastic. But - when we talked about this last week, you said you weren’t gay. Well ...."

I enjoyed his joke, last week I had been very uncertain about my own sexuality but now I knew. But then I realised something else.

"Well, Jack, my darling". After that I just couldn’t call this man ‘Uncle Jack’. "What about you?"

"Me? I’m not gay."

"You could have fooled me."

"No, Tina. I’m a totally heterosexual male. Who is being fondled by a gorgeous woman. At least that’s what I still see before me." He grinned again.

I grinned too. I could see his point. I smiled and stood up.

"Do you think I look sexy, Uncle?" I asked.

"Tina, you look absolutely gorgeous and if you carry on flaunting yourself to me like this I will not be responsible for the consequences"

Which is exactly what I wanted to hear. I snuggled up to him again and we kissed and cuddled , well, more than that, we groped and fondled each other for over half an hour. As we parted after one particularly steamy necking session we looked into each other’s eyes. And knew. This was indeed getting dangerous. I decided that would do for tonight and stood up, pulling my skirt down over my stocking tops and tucking my tits back into the cups of the basque once more.

"Well, darling, I’m going to bed."

Which I then did. Back in my own room I reflected on the evening as I stripped and cleansed my face. I just didn’t undo the fake boobs, that was going to be too much bother, I would have to sort that out in the morning. I closed my eyes as soon as my head hit the pillow. I don’t think I dreamed, but I am sure I slept with a smile on my face.

6 Saturday

Next morning I woke up early. With an enormous feeling of satisfaction. I cleaned up and showered and shaved well, then found the solvent for the adhesive for my breasts. Wouldn’t do to turn up at breakfast bulging like that.

But then I thought to myself - why not? OK, not in jeans and T-shirt, my usual Saturday morning attire. But I could dress again. And why not? On Saturdays I usually got up early and went out to the gym club for an hour’s workout. Uncle Jack had enrolled me in the second week of my visit, to give me the chance to keep myself fit and to give him the chance of a lie-in, without feeling guilty he was not providing for his ‘guest’. But I could give that a miss, of course I could.

Within two minutes I had scoured the wardrobe and my ‘female undies’ drawer and had my outfit spread out on the bed, ready. Why not indeed? I had restricted myself to evening times so far, maybe I could get away with it in the daytime too.

I sat at the dresser and, as carefully as the previous day, did my make-up, not quite so glamorously but still attractively, I thought. I used the other set of nails I had bought, scarlet but not so long this time. One of the other pairs of shoes too, I had decided, these were red, still with high-ish heels but not so high. I slid and clipped my wig on, adding a smaller pair of clip earrings, then put on my bra and panties, scarlet this time. This was to be a ‘red’ day, not a ‘black’ one. I decided to stick to stockings instead of tights, and clipped them onto my suspender belt. A white blouse, gold necklet, red miniskirt, my red stilettos, I was ready.

I crept down to the kitchen, Uncle was still sleeping, and made coffee, then carried two mugs upstairs and went into uncle’s bedroom. I put the mugs on the bedside table and sat on the bed. Uncle was disturbed a little, he stirred. I leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

"Good morning, darling, I’ve brought you some coffee."

Jack sat up and looked at me. He sipped slowly.

"I stirred a few minutes ago - I wondered if last night was all a dream, but now I see it wasn’t. Does this indicate some sort of decision on your part - Tina - dressing first thing in the morning? You said you were only confident in evenings, not in full daylight."

"Well, Jack my darling. I wanted to see the full effect. Please, be honest, tell me."

I stood up and crossed the room to open the curtains, then turned to face him so that he got a good look.

"Tina, I can only confirm what I saw last night. The view from here is gorgeous. Really, I mean it, I see a woman, no more, no less. Definitely Tina, and no sign of Timothy whatsoever."

He certainly knew how to flatter a ‘girl’. I crossed towards him, perhaps flaunting myself a little, sat on the bed beside him, and leaned over and kissed him on the lips..

"Thank you, Jack, that’s what I really needed to know." And as I moved my hand a little I encountered his leg through the bedclothes - and something else. I smiled. Before I had time to comment he spoke.

"Tina, don’t so that. Please. Not now. This may be the place but it is not the time. I need to get up and dressed, we have things to do today."

I was puzzled, and perhaps it showed.

"Please, take your gorgeous legs downstairs, I need to shower and dress, I’ll be down in 15 minutes."

Which he was. I had prepared, showing my feminine skills to the utmost, breakfast on the patio - juice, coffee and toast, and we sat in the morning sunshine, neither of us too sure about the consequences of the previous night’s activities. In fact Uncle Jack kept staring at by boobs and my legs, and occasionally muttering ‘fantastic’ or gorgeous’ or something like that. It was at the same time flattering and very off-putting, and made serious conversation impossible. Eventually we cleared up and I got round to thinking, now that I was dressed, just how I was going to spend the day. The gym visit was obviously out of the question. Uncle, though, had decided for me.

"Right, Tina, let’s go, we have some serious shopping to do"

That floored me. Shopping? Well, of course it had to be done, I had often done the weekly shop on my way back from the gym. Whizzing round with a trolley, and then Uncle picked me up with the load afterwards. But today?

"Yes. Look, Tina, I keep telling you that you look good. You look the part. Apart from staring at your legs nobody will notice that you are not what you seem. Believe me, I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise. I can’t afford to be seen out with a man who is dressed like a woman, can I? Not with my position in this town. So come on, find a jacket, I’ll get the car out."

I dashed upstairs and found a cream-coloured blazer style jacket, hoping it was not ‘special’ to Jack as far as Aunt Jean was concerned. Then, before going, I had to visit the bathroom, not as easy as it sounds when wearing a tight basque. I resolved to find, if I was in any way going to continue with this, a different style of under-garment to help control my figure while still allowing access when necessary.

Jack was sitting in the car when I got outside, I loved the thrill of sliding my bum onto his leather car seats and showing him my legs. He got the point, came up with an appreciative grunt as I struggled to fit the seat belt strap over my boobs.

"You never had that problem before, did you" he joked.

I was worried at first about going round the supermarket with him, though I wasn’t well known in the area I had been to the local store several times, someone there just might recognise me, or at least recognise Uncle Jack and put two and two together. But at the end of the street he turned left instead of right.

"I thought we should perhaps go somewhere different, how about that shopping complex just up the motorway?" he asked, obviously the same thought had occurred to him. "We’ll get the ordinary shopping first and dump it in the car, then maybe have lunch and have a look in some of the other stores."

"OK, Jack, if all goes well that is"

"It will"

And it did.

I felt strange at first and very nervous indeed, I kept thinking someone in the store would ‘spot’ something was wrong and make a scene. But no-one did! And after only a few minutes I felt wonderful, strolling round the supermarket with my ‘boyfriend’, just doing shopping like any other couple. At the checkout I was a little hesitant, Jack did all the loading while I waited with my purse in hand. We really didn’t have anything special, just ordinary things, except I had insisted to Jack that he let me buy myself some new stockings. I wanted several pairs but he insisted on only one pair, saying that I would ‘get another chance later’.

After loading the stuff into the car Jack drove us back home again and I did my ‘wifely’ job of putting things where they belonged in the kitchen. Then he arrived at the door again carrying my jacket, insisting that we were going out again. That first ‘proper’ outing, when I associated with several other people, one of the shelf-stackers in the supermarket, the boy on the checkout, the guy collecting the trolleys in the car park, had done me the world of good in confidence terms. Nobody had given any indication at all that they didn’t see me as I wanted to be seen, as a woman.

As Jack held the car door open for me to get out a few minutes later, I couldn’t help it - I just smiled at him and kissed him yet again, there, in broad daylight, in public, in the café car park, I really was having a wonderful day. I took his hand as we walked into the café. We only had a slight snack but it was still fun, being treated as a woman, and on one occasion being addressed as ‘Miss’.

And after all that, just when I was thinking we had done it all, Jack surprised me again. Instead of turning left out of the car park to head back home he turned right. I looked across at him, puzzled.

"More surprises in store, my darling" he said - the first time he had addressed me in that way. And to back up the greeting, after changing gear, he put his hand on my knee and slid it up my thigh, under my skirt.

I slapped his hand playfully and scowled at him. "Not now my lovely."

A few minutes later we were pulling into yet another car park, in the shopping arcade at the other side of town, not one I had visited often. Again he took my hand as we strolled towards the shops. And he dragged me, well, escorted me really, straight into ‘M’elle’ - a rather swish ladies clothes shop! Before I could say anything he had summoned one of the assistants.

"Good afternoon sir, miss, can I help you?"

I realised straight away that she had checked straight away - noticed that I had no ring. I looked at Jack, hoping he wasn’t going to expect me to reply but it became clear he had everything in hand.

"Yes, I rang on Thursday afternoon, to discuss a dress for my friend here. I got a message yesterday that you had some success....."

Thursday afternoon? That was before our session last night, what had Jack been thinking of? But now was not the time to ask him.

"If you will come with me miss, I can show you, we have two possibilities, size 12 isn’t it?"

"Er - yes" I muttered, then hung back to whisper to Jack.

"What is going on here? What is this about two dresses?"

Jack spoke more loudly, so that the saleswoman could hear.

"It’s a surprise my darling, we’re having dinner alone tonight to celebrate.

I thought a new dress would be in order."

He had me flummoxed. And trapped, I had no alternative but to go along. When we reached the changing are Jack sat down on a chair and picked up a magazine. I obviously did have to go ahead, on my own. The woman held open a curtain for me, I went in front of her into the changing area. To be greeted by another woman coming out of a small curtained area and posing in front of a full-length mirror, wearing only a bra on her top half! As I followed the assistant the posing woman turned towards me.

"Tell me dear, the assistant says this isn’t too tight for me, but I think she’s just trying to make a sale. Is it? What do you think?"

What could I do? This woman was standing there in front of me, insisting I look at her boobs and her cleavage. I swallowed, tried to speak calmly.

"It looks fine to me". Which it did, she had a very impressive pair of tits and they were only inches from my face. I swallowed again, then gasped as she quickly and expertly reached behind her back to unhook the bra. It fell forward and her big boobs ballooned out - I was left facing two gorgeous breasts, big nipples standing out, I just had to look away and brush past her as she breathed in.

"OK, thanks" she called back to me as I walked into the cubicle next to hers. I heard her say "I’ll take it, then", then managed to get my attention back to my own concerns.

When the assistant showed me the two dresses on hangers, my mind was made up instantly. The black one, it was gorgeous, a shiny black material, with small imitation gems stuck or sewn all over it, giving it a ‘night-with-stars’ appearance. I had to try it on but fortunately the assistant had to leave me to do so myself, she was called away. I stripped to my undies, managed to get it on with a little difficulty, it really was very tight, and satisfied myself with a look in the mirror that it was OK. Within only a few minutes I was back in the store holding it and smiling at Uncle Jack.

He paid for it, and of course I had to have a new co-ordinating handbag, and a pair of large pendant diamante earrings, and a black velvet choker with a single large central ‘stone’, and a pair of sheer black seamed stockings, I could have gone on but I didn’t want to make too much of a hole in Uncle’s card account. As we drove back home I kept thinking to myself..." I’ve got the shoes, now, what sort of make-up shall I wear, and what about my nails, and shall I try to style my hair..." -

All girly thoughts, I realised, I was really getting into this big-time......

We spent the rest of the afternoon just hanging round at home, Uncle Jack making appreciative comments about my figure and so on, then in the early evening he announced that he wanted me to ‘dress’ for dinner. I took that to mean in the new dress so I kissed him lightly on the cheek and went upstairs.

In my bedroom I stripped, showered carefully so I didn’t disturb my breastforms and their ‘make-up’, shaved twice and towelled myself dry. I looked across at the dress, hanging there invitingly. I was surprised - it took me much less time this time to completely redo my ‘look’. I did my basque as tightly as I could and slid my new sheer seamed stockings up my legs, enjoying the sensation as I stood up and felt the tension spread round my legs. I just about managed to squeeze into the dress. Then I sat down to redo my nails, this time choosing the extremely long pair I had bought earlier, and enjoying stoking the vibrant red nail varnish carefully onto them.

And then the eyes, I do so love doing my eye make-up. I used a mid-blue over the lids, shading to a mid-purple at the top, then to pink below my eyebrows. Then a thin, not too dark eyebrow pencil to give just a little accentuation to them. The eyelashes were new to me but I relished the thought. A thin smear of the adhesive along the edge, they were more awkward to fit than I had thought but I did it, got them firmly in just the right place. After waiting a few seconds for the adhesive to dry I stroked over them, and over my own upper lashes, thick mascara, good quality stuff, it produced long black lashes, gorgeously separated and curled. Careful application to my lower lashes too, the effect thrilled me. A deep blue eyeliner followed to complete the effect.

And finally after edging my mouth with a very thin line of deep purple lip-liner, my lipstick, the same bright red as my finger and toenails, thickly applied, this was supposedly ‘kissproof’ ! I smeared a thin coat of gloss over my lower lip and just a little to my upper, then looked across at the clock. It had seemed like about 3 hours but had taken less than one to complete my dressing. I put on the glamorous diamante earrings and clipped the choker behind my neck, again luxuriating in the feel of my long blonde hair tumbling to my shoulders as I shook my wig to ‘settle’ it. Finally a diamante bracelet which had been Aunt Jean’s and a silver-coloured watch, and in all seven large and rather gaudy rings. I stood up and stepped into those shoes, my 6" heel black patent stilettos, and grabbed my bag. I turned and looked in the long mirror. The skirt of the dress was so tight and so short I could almost see the tops of my stockings. And the neckline was so plunging I was revealing a very convincing pair of bulging boobs.

The effect was well worth the effort, or so I thought, I hoped Uncle Jack would like my ‘look’ too. I stepped carefully down the stairs in my ultra-high heels, and then strode confidently into the lounge. Where Uncle Jack was not alone, he was talking to another man!

Jack turned to face me and, while the other guy was staring at me, stepped across the room, took my hand and kissed me on the lips. I was taken aback by both events.

"Doesn’t she look gorgeous, Sam" he said to the other man.

"Fantastic" he said - it was the only word I heard him say. He picked up a box from the table beside him and left. I looked past him - the dining table was laid with silver cutlery, as I looked Jack lit one candle over the table, then turned the light down. It was just beginning to get dark, and with the gentle music I had just noticed coming from the stereo, it was a very romantic scene indeed. Jack reached out a hand, I took it gently.

"Tina, I just knew you would look sensational in that dress, and Sam thought so too, I could tell. You did such a good job with dinner the other night that I thought I would reciprocate."

Then I realised, as I head a van start up outside. Sam was the caterer, Uncle had bought in a gorgeous meal for the two of us. He looked across at me again.

"Don’t you dare kiss me again, Tina, I would not be at all responsible for anything which then happened. Let’s eat’.

I realised then - I was famished. I hadn’t eaten for hours. Over the meal, not enormous but very good quality, Uncle again kept paying me compliments, then at the end as he filled my wine glass again, came the big question.

"Well, Tina. You have certainly proved you can be totally a woman. So what happens to Timothy now?"

I didn’t know, I seriously didn’t know. I had SO MUCH fun dressing and being seen out as a woman, it seemed a very backward step to change back, to go back to trousers and shirt, flat shoes, just being an ordinary guy. While he was waiting for me to say something Uncle came round behind me and helped me from the chair, in an extremely gentlemanly fashion. We strolled hand-in-hand back into the lounge where he opened the champagne. Again we linked arms as we sipped from the delicate glasses.

I looked him straight in the eyes, trying to keep my expression neutral. I had been thinking about his question earlier, I knew it would come up sometime during the evening.

"Uncle..." I started to say, but couldn’t put my thoughts into words. I took his hand and sat down on the sofa, pulled him down next to me. I took his left hand and placed it on my knee and looked t him again. He slid the hand up inside my dress. I felt it move over my stocking tops, slide across my bare leg and touch my silk panties. Without speaking his other hand cupped my bulging right breast. I leaned over and kissed him, hard and passionately. We separated.

"Uncle, you remember you said ‘go for it’"

"Yes, Tina, and I meant every word of it"

"Uncle. Will you seduce me?"

"Tina, my darling, if you hadn’t asked, well, I am as hot as hell right now, I reckon I might have raped you before the night is over!"

As he smiled I leaned towards him to offer my most passionate kiss yet. Then he led me up to his own bedroom. As we entered I turned my back to him, inviting him to unzip my dress. This he did, snaking an arm round my waist and burying his lips in my neck as he fondled my boobs from behind. I allowed the dress to slip down, standing there, in front of my Uncle Jack, feeling like a wanton tart, my boobs thrusting upwards and outwards from my tight black basque, sheer black seamed nylons and massive heeled stilettos, my jewellery flashing in the light.

I felt fantastic, I felt promiscuous, I felt lustful.

"Now stand still, Jack my darling, I want to undress you"

And I did, undoing his tie, opening his shirt and sliding my nails through his slightly hairy chest, then unbuckling his trousers and helping him remove them, and his pants and shoes and socks. He stood up, naked. I saw for the first time in that situation a nude man, and wondered if I was in any way seeing him as a woman would. He struck me as rather ‘tall, dark and handsome’ - I thought for a moment. ‘I want to have sex with this man’.

His erect cock was standing proud and stiff, I teased it with my fingers, Jack started moaning a little, I had to kiss him again to quieten him as we tumbled onto the bed. Then he slowly begin to rub my left thigh, stroke my garter, feel the roundness of my arse. He began to kiss my legs, playfully running his finger and then his tongue along my panty line. I reached down and felt his throbbing cock.

I kissed it, then moved lower to his balls, as he arched his back to give my mouth access. I spent long minutes licking, sucking and kissing them, enjoying their swelling and the hairy feeling in my mouth. My tongue darted down and briefly sucked at his hole before returning to lick his long shaft. I sucked round the base of the shaft, making it glisten in the light. I moved on to the bulging head of his cock, flicking the tip with my tongue, playing with it. Quickly, I covered his whole shaft with my eager mouth.

Forcing the whole cock into my throat, I can still feel the firm head as it nearly gagged me as it slid down my open mouth. Slowly then with increasing speed I began to thrust my mouth up and down the shaft, sucking hard as I moved rhythmically. Jack was moaning loudly now, trying to hold back, I could feel his muscles tighten as the first pre- cum trickled out of the tip of his cock. He held my head in his hands, thrusting when I did, working with me, until with a final devastating eruption he climaxed, filling my mouth and throat with his hot cum.

He pulled out just before I began to choke, his thick cum was warm, and sticky and gorgeous. He eagerly kissed me, and our mouths and tongues mingled with his cum. I gulped and swallowed, feeling the heat as the fluid pulsed down my awaiting throat, sensing the warmth s it moved into my stomach. This was sensational!

Together, we rolled back and forth across the bed, the memory of Jack’s climax heightening the excitement of the moment. I relaxed briefly, then I could feel his hardness pushing at me again. He slowly moved on top of me, pushing down with his hips against my groin. My own cock was rock hard, straining against the lace of my panties.

Jack moved his hand down along my stomach and began to gently stroke my panties, pushing back on my shaft, teasing the head though the fabric as it rubbed across the very sensitive tip. I felt every delightful movement across the skin. He pulled my panties down a little further, his fingers probing into the hot chasm of my arse, digging at the hole of my anus. Then he pushed a finger into my arse.

I gasped as he rolled me over, his stiff wet rod square in my face. It was really erect again, I stroked his cock gently.

"Jack, you really are a very good lover you know."

"And so are you, Tina, I’ve never known a woman like you"

I felt great!! I took his glistening cock in my mouth again, and as I did so, it began to regain strength even more, growing larger with each squeeze of my lips, I just had to let it go. We shifted across the bed, our lips meeting passionately again.

As we parted Jack spoke. "Timothy, this has gone way too far, this is serious, I am in absolute ecstasy right now, I am desperate to shoot my sperm up you. You never did really answer my question, where is all this leading?"

"Timothy? Who’s Timothy?"

I moved to get into position, on my back with my legs up, perched on my ultra-high heels. I felt the cool touch of something pushing at my hole. Jack locked his legs around mine, I felt his weight pushing on me, the tip of his cock touching the edge of my arse, sliding up and down the crack.

Suddenly, it found it’s mark, and with his hands resting on my shoulders, and fingers digging into my flesh, he entered me! He then began to move in and out of my arse with increasing speed and depth. I gasped with the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure!

"God, Jack, that is wonderful, I am so full, keep pushing, PLEASE"

He moved even deeper in with each thrust, faster and faster as he thrust into me. The pain receded as his movements become more fluid and my arse stretched. We moved together as one, up and down, groaning and moaning in each of our own pleasures.

Far to soon, I felt him begin to spasm, his body begin to shake, his muscles begin to bulge as he built to a climax. He spurted, even harder than last time, I felt his hot steaming juices shoot up hard into my arse, felt him jerking and writhing in ecstasy.

We pulsed and pushed together, groin to groin, enjoying those last few moments of each other’s body as we both reached the heights of our passion. I screamed. With pleasure, my carnal desires were satisfied, truly I WAS a woman.

And then, again, we collapsed, sated. And slept.

And as if that was not enough, it was about 5 in the morning, the dawn was just beginning, when I felt Jack’s hands round my waist, fondling my breasts, feeling down towards my own cock.

"Darling, haven’t you had enough, I will if you will..."

And we did. Again. I finished nearly 24 hours of intense sexual activity with another fuck. My arse-hole was beginning to get sore, but Jack would not take no for an answer, he screwed me yet again.

"Jack, what do you think of me?" I asked after yet another climax as we lay there, slowly drifting off again.

I didn’t hear it all, I did drop off. The last thing I remembered was a hand cuddling my breasts, me gently caressing his lips with mine, and the words "....gorgeous, the best fuck ever, tart to die for, legs any guy would like to...."

We slept.

7 Sunday

Very unusually Jack was awake before me in the morning. When I opened my eyes he was there, smiling down at his lover.

"Well my dear, how was it for you?" he joked. The sight of my naked lover stirred passions in me again, I reached over and stroked his balls.

"Ready for round two?" I joked back.

Ten minutes later he staggered out of bed and dashed to the bathroom after our third fuck in one night. I followed a few minutes later and was appalled at the sight I saw in the mirror. My make-up was awful. It took me about 15 minutes altogether to shower, clean and smooth my face, re-do my make-up and choose what to wear. I arrived downstairs to find Jack in the kitchen, looking serious. I had hoped he would like my appearance, black leather miniskirt and fishnets with my high heels, as well as a tight low-cut top. He had just put the phone down.

"What’s wrong, darling, don’t you like what you see?" I asked provocatively, twisting to display my long legs and thighs, then bending over to kiss him and give him the chance to fondle my ample breasts once more. He looked me over, I smiled and rolled my tongue over my scarlet lips lasciviously.

"Tina, you look gorgeous. But I’ve just had a phone call."

I waited.

"Tina, since we are being open with each other now, I do have something to tell you."

The words seemed to suggest this was going to be something I wouldn’t like.

But Uncle Jack’s tone didn’t say that, it said ‘good news’.

"I had lunch the other day - you know that - with a business colleague, she is a director of a company my firm works with quite often. Well, to cut it short, we got on very well together and...."

I interrupted him, he was beginning to get a little embarrassed, he can at times.

"You mean - ‘you have met someone’"

"Precisely"

"And -"

"Well, Tina, it’s early days yet. But I thought that in a week or so, when Emma is at home, I might invite her back for dinner."

"OK, Uncle Jack, you also mean I have to get myself sorted out by then, maybe a job, somewhere to live...."

"Oh no. Tina, I wouldn’t throw you out"

".... And decide what gender I am". I smiled at the ridiculous humour involved. "Don’t worry, Uncle, I do realise. That’s why I’m still going to the employment bureau later this week. It needs sorting out soon. I do know that"

"But, Tina - or Timothy - It does mean - last night - it has to stop. It was fun, I hope it helped you but I need to sort my life out too."

I wasn’t disappointed, I was delighted, I wished Uncle Jack - my lover - the very best in the world. I kissed him again on the cheek. Then, as I pulled away, his lips reached out to mine and he grabbed me close, sliding hands again over my thighs, fondling my boobs - again.

I kissed him hard. "OK Jack, let’s finish with a bang!"

Which, for the fourth time in twelve hours, we did. Uncle pushed me against the wall, pulled up my skirt and, this time, teased my own cock with his fingers while fucking me standing up, his cock seemed to go even deeper than when he had shoved it up me the night before. We exploded simultaneously in a torrent of cum as we both climaxed together and then, finally, with Jack’s cock still up me, finished with one long French kissing session.

Which is why I am sat here now. In the sunny garden, still dressed in basque and stockings and stilettos, still drinking champagne. My lover’s cum is slowly dripping out of my arse and through the slats of my chair onto the ground. Jack has gone off to his golf game with three friends. He had to rush to shower again and meet his lift, but as he said it would not have done for the others to turn up at the house to collect him - and find me. He’s not due back until about four.

Before which my other problem will occur. Emma rang about ten minutes ago, she has finished her work early at college and is driving straight home for a couple of weeks vacation, wants to spend some time getting to know her cousin again. So she will get here in about five hours. at three.

And meet who? What?

Help!!

 

 

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