Contest And Consequence

by Sarah Bayen

Part Five : Meet the Parents

  

It was only when we got outside that I realised how hot it had been in the school hall. The cool air around me was refreshing, especially around my neck and on my arms, which were exposed. Liz led me across the car park, and I wondered, rather materialistically, which car would be hers. Would it be an old banger that would hardly start, or something more stylish?

I did not have long to wait before finding out. Wow, no this was a car! A two-seater in bright red, and a large bonnet, with presumably a large engine underneath.

"Do you like it?" she asked me, letting go of my arm for a moment to find her keys.

I was speechless. "It's very nice," I managed to mutter.

"My Dad got it for me on my seventeenth," she explained. "It's a bit flashy really, but it does the job."

I nodded. I knew very little about cars; my Dad had always gone in for the practical rather than the powerful, and none of my friends were old enough for motors. In spite of this ignorance, I knew that this car was an adolescent's dream machine.

Liz opened the door for me. The front seat was laid quite far back, and trimmed in tan. I carefully placed my bags in the well in front of the seat, and, thinking about deportment, reversed myself into the seat while she held the door open for me. Last, I gracefully swung my legs into the seat well, and she closed the door behind me with a soft click, rather than the thump that closed my dad's car doors.

My nose was filled with the scent of the vehicle; clean and leathery. I looked at the wooden dashboard with its rows of, to me, incomprehensible dials and buttons. Liz opened the driver's door, flung herself into the sear, causing the car to sway a bit on its suspension.

"You'd best do up your seat belt," she advised me, "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you." She smiled, and I felt my stomach give a little jump. Nervously, I reached behind me, and with trembling hands, tried to fasten the belt. She took the belt from me, and did it up.

"It can be a bit stiff," she explained. I looked at her, as our hands brushed together. She slowly broke into a mischievous smile. "If you know what I mean!"

I felt myself blush again, and quickly looked forward through the windscreen. Where was this likely to lead? Liz was a sophisticated seventeen year old, with her own car. I had agreed that she could give me a lift home, and it was entirely possible that in the unknown world of seventeen year olds, that meant that she would feel entitled to – something in return.

For a brief moment, I wished I had taken up Nikki's offer to go back on the train with her, but it was too late now. Liz started the engine, which was quiet to the point of silence, and slipped the car into gear. With a whoosh, we went out of the school gate, and along the road, and out into the open country.

"I bet your Mum and Dad are going to be really proud of you," she said.

I glanced across at her. "Possibly," I replied. "Although I'm a bit worried about what they might say."

"Do you mean they don't know you were doing this?" she asked, with a note of incredulity.

I blushed again. "No," I muttered. "I didn't tell them."

"Why ever not!" she exclaimed. "I tell my parents about all my school triumphs and things."

"It's a bit different for you," I mumbled.

"In what way?" she asked, with the same tone of disbelief.

"Well, you just win all sorts of sports things. I'm not surprised they like to hear about things like that."

She glanced across at me, with a surprised frown on her face. "But what you've done today is just as good."

I was silent for a moment. "I don't know about that. They'll probably think I've gone a bit weird, dressing up like this."

She laughed, which made me turn towards her, feeling a little hurt. She obviously sensed this.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I think you're being a bit silly. I mean, my Dad used to think it wasn't very ladylike of me to want to play football, and throw the javelin, and stuff like that. I'm not sure you winning a beauty contest is all that different."

I thought about this for a moment. Maybe it wasn't in some ways. "I'm still dreading them seeing me like this," I confessed.

"You mean they've not seen you in your costumes?" she gasped, unbelieving.

I blushed again. "No,"

Liz laughed. "You daft thing! They'll be delighted to see you!"

"I doubt that."

"Of course they will! They'll think it's great. I tell you what, if it makes it any better, I'll come in with you, and explain what's happened."

I looked across at her again, her eyes fixed on the road, and her long hair hanging loosely across her wide shoulders. Everything seemed so easy to Liz; she was used to winning things, to having adults on her side; she just brimmed with confidence.

"Shall we do that then?" she asked.

I thought about this. There was something comforting in the idea of Liz coming in with me, and taking control of the telling the parents thing. I wondered if the house would look too small to her, whether she would think we were too poor to have anything to do with. Was it clean, I tried to remember from the morning?

"All right," I managed to reply, almost in a whisper. "That would be good."

"Sure," she went on.

The car sped through the evening twilight, along leafy lanes. It wasn't going to be a long journey, so I thought I'd best begin to prepare myself for the ordeal ahead. I was going over in my mind how I was going to introduce things to my parents, when Liz slowed the car down, and pulled over into a lay-by at the side of the road.

My eyes widened, as I wondered what might be happening. She switched off the engine, and turned in her seat to face me. My heart began to flutter, and I felt my knees press together.

"Don't be nervous," she said, putting an arm around my shoulder. "I just want to do something we should have done back in the hall, remember?"

Shaking, I shook my head slightly.

"Oh you do!" she insisted. "I said I didn't want to kiss you properly with all the school there. There's no reason why we shouldn't now is there? Not unless you don't like me?"

She stroked my shoulder under the sleeves of the dress, and I felt my mouth open involuntarily. She shuffled in her seat to get nearer to me, and I felt my breathing getting rapid and shallow.

"I'm only fifteen," I heard myself whine.

"I know that," she said, gently, "and you're the sweetest fifteen year old I know."

She lent over further, and I felt her lips on my face. They moved slowly down to my mouth, and locked against mine. Her tongue flipped my lips apart, and gently entered my mouth, stroking and caressing my teeth and gums.

My head whirled as she did this; the closeness of her electrified every part of me. I shuffled downwards to make her task easier, and became acutely aware of my suspenders as they twisted a little. She disengaged, and looked into my eyes as she stroked my wig.

"You are lovely," she whispered to me, and descended to kiss me again, her hand now behind my neck. The straps from my bra cut into me as I breathed, and my nipples felt the socks that were strapped across them.

We separated again. "I've wanted to do this for ages," Liz told me. I found this strange. How could someone as sophisticated as her possibly fancy me, especially with my oversized bottom? But it seemed as if she did; her face moved down to my throat, and kissed it gently. A strange moan came to my lips, and I felt a sensation on my hips I had never experienced before.

She came back upright, and kissed my lips again. "You're so much nicer than the other boys at school," she told me. "You're kind and gentle, and caring. You're about the only one who's never teased me about playing football either."

"Some people say I'm too much like a girl," I found myself saying quietly.

"Well I don't think so."
"Even dressed like this?"

She looked at me carefully. "I don't care how you dress. You're just gorgeous." And with this, she lent over, and kissed me again. I couldn't believe how good this felt, having Liz kiss me, and stroke me, and hold me. I wanted it to last forever.

We separated again, and I shuffled in my seat a little, trying to untangle my suspenders.

"What's the matter?" she asked with concern in her voice.

"Nothing, it's just my suspenders have got a bit twisted." I responded.

She smiled broadly. "Oh yes, I saw them earlier. Very sexy."

I blushed. What had I been thinking of to mention them now? I managed to straighten them out a little.

"They can't be very comfortable," she went on. "I mean, don't get me wrong, they look dead sexy on you, but I should imagine they're a bit restrictive."

"They're all right once you get used to them," I heard myself saying, strangely echoing what Nikki and Anita had told me the Saturday before.

"Well you'll never get me in them," she replied. "I've never worn them, and I never will." With that, I was subjected to another soft and beautiful barrage of kisses, across my forehead, my cheeks, and onto my neck. One of her hands clasped me around the neck, while the other softly caressed my stomach through the silky satin of my dress.

I managed to disentangle myself for a few seconds in order to breathe, only to be told that I was sex on legs. I smiled at the compliment. This girl really did seem to like me.

Liz gazed into my eyes for a while, and then let them fall to my chest. Her hand moved up to hold the necklace I was wearing, and she fingered the letters carefully.

"It's not a bad name for you is it?" she said, looking at the necklace between her fingers. "Sarah, yes, I like it."

I wanted her to stop talking and to kiss me again, but she seemed thoughtful. "It's not my real name," I said, placing my arms around her neck.

"Oh isn't it?" she responded teasingly. "Well we'll have to see about that."

And then I was lost in her mouth again, as our tongues danced across my teeth. I held her head and shoulders insistently, pulling her close to me so that we almost seemed to weld together. I had never felt like this before, even when dreaming about Anita.

She pulled herself away after some moments, and smiled at me again. I looked at her longingly, and gently pulled at her head.

"Easy!" she pleaded, "I need a bit of a break you know. I might not be able to hold myself back if we keep up like this!"

I feigned a disappointed pout, and then broke into a wild grin.

She tapped my nose with her finger. "You," she said, "are a right little tease!"

She sat back in her chair, and breathed deeply. I slowly and reluctantly sat more upright myself.

"Are you all right?" I asked, as her chest heaved up and down with the effort of her respiration.

"Yes," she gasped. "Like I said, I need a bit of a break, otherwise I'm going to loose control." She looked over to me with a strange rather wild look in her eyes. "And you don't look like the sort of girl who'd go too far on a first date."

My mouth fell open. All sorts of things flashed into my mind; I wasn't a girl at all for a start; and like she suspected, I was a virgin. But she was seventeen, and really sophisticated. I shouldn't have let her kiss me like that, not for so long anyway, if I wasn't prepared to do something about it. She was going to hate me for this, for getting her so wound up, and then being too scared to do anything about it. It was all my fault; I had known what was likely to happen when I had accepted a lift from her. I had been silly; Liz was older than me, and really cool; I was a nerdy little fifteen year old, and I had been cross because Anita had gone off with John after the contest. Because of all that I had got myself in far deeper than I could cope with.

She sat on the driver's chair, lent back, and breathing heavily, with her eyes shut. She was so beautiful, with her long blonde hair, and strong features. I looked at her longingly, in her blue sweatshirt, and loved the sweat on her face. Then I made my decision. I might be a virgin, but I was not entirely innocent. I sat up taller, and she opened her eyes to see what I was doing. Leaning over I caressed her stomach for a while, and then slipped my hand under the elastic waistband of her tracksuit trousers.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Helping," I said, and put my fingers to her lips.

"I'm not sure that you should," she started to say, and then, "Oh!"

 

Around ten minutes later she gripped my shoulders with a strength that shocked me, and grunted loudly as her body trashed and writhed in the chair. The tension that had been building up in her seemed to vanish, and she collapsed backwards. With some relief, as I was getting cramp, I eased my hand away, and looked at her.

"Oh my God!" she said at last. I grinned, and kissed her. "I've never done that with someone else in the room before!" I kissed her again. "You are just so good at that, how did you learn to do it?"

Her eyes opened, and I shrugged at her, smiling. "Well I suppose being a girl today has taught me a bit more than I realised."

"I should say so!" she exclaimed. She pulled herself upright, and held me by the shoulders. "If being a girl teaches you to be that good, I reckon all boys should have a go at it."

I felt rather pleased with myself, and kept smiling, almost as if I was back on the stage. She stared at me, with a look of admiration, and then, leaning forward, eased me back into my seat, and locked her lips to mine. My body responded to her more than my mind, which was fuzzy, and lost to the world. I arched my back, and she cupped my sock filled boobs in her hands, gently kneading them like bread. I felt my legs trembling, and my knees losing all strength.

She lifted her head from me, and stroked the hair from my face, smiling at me, with her eyes glinting in the evening light. "You are beautiful!" she whispered, and then began to kiss at my neck again. This went on for some time, and I alternated between heaven and anxiety, wondering if she would want something else from me. But she felt so warm and nice against me, that there were times when she could have had it, had she but asked.

My dress rustled as she stroked it, and my shoes fell off as I scrunched up my toes in ecstasy. I ran my fingers through her thick gorgeous hair, and smelt the freshness of it as it ran across my face like a river.

"When's your birthday then?" she suddenly asked, rousing me from my stupor.

"September," I replied. "Why?"

She smiled at me knowingly. "Because then you'll be sixteen, and maybe we could go a little bit further."

I found myself getting nervous, although I could not reason why. She must have seen this, because she backed away a little, sitting upright, although her hand was still behind my head.

"Don't look so worried," she said, anxiously. "I wouldn't make you do anything you weren't ready for."

"No," I piped. "I didn't think you would."

She smiled again. "But you really are so beautiful and sexy, you need me to look after you." She lent forward to kiss me again, but I turned my head away.

"We ought to be thinking about getting back," I said, more rapidly than I needed to. I knew that if she told me I was beautiful again, she could have taken me there and then. There was no way I could have resisted her, and my body was screaming out for her touch.

"So soon?" she said, querulously, stroking my hair again, and making my body sing for her. "And it's such a nice evening."

"I know," I went on. "But we've got to get to school tomorrow. And we've got some explaining to do to my parents remember?"

She sat herself back in her seat, and for a moment I wondered if I'd offended her. She laughed gently, however, and looked at her watch. "I suppose you're right. Honestly, you really have got this girl thing off to a fine art haven't you? Leading me on like that, and then giving me the brush off."

"I'm not giving you the brush off," I protested. "I just think we ought to think about getting ourselves back home."

She smiled at me in reply, and stroked my hair again.

"And I wasn't leading you on, not deliberately anyway." I continued, turning my eyes downwards to my feet.

She laughed gently again. "No, I suppose you weren't. Not deliberately, anyway. But you," she began, leaning over to kiss my forehead, "are one foxy little minx." Then her mouth linked with mine again, and I kissed her as eagerly as she was kissing me.

Five or ten minutes later, we separated again. "Well this won't do," she said. "We'll never get you home at this rate. I'll just have to try and contain myself."

She sat herself upright into the driver's seat, and I too lifted myself up, and straightened my dress, which was looking more than a little crumpled from all her attentions.

"You'd best give me some directions when we get to the village," she went on, starting the engine, which gave a soft but insistent purr.

"Okay," I responded, and, without thinking, pulled down the passenger visor, and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked a real mess. My hair was tosselled, and most of my make up seemed to have been kissed away. I was flushed scarlet across the cheeks, and I had a bloom on my neck and chest where Liz had kissed me so wonderfully.

On an impulse, I leant across, and kissed her on the cheek, before she had set the car in motion. "What was that for?" she asked, looking at me.

I shrugged. "Because you deserve it," I replied, and returning my attention to the mirror, began to try and make my wig look a little less untidy, ready to meet my parents.

We drove on in the dark, and I directed Liz towards my house. My heart was in my mouth, dreading the meeting. What were my parents going to say about me being out so late on a school night, let alone wearing a bridesmaid's dress, and being escorted by an older woman?

"Nervous?" asked Liz.

I nodded in reply, my mouth firmly closed.

"You needn't be," she told me encouragingly. "You look lovely."

I smiled, but I wasn't sure that 'lovely' would be my parents' reaction to seeing their only son dressed as a beauty queen. We pulled into my street, and I encouraged Liz to park her car a few doors down from my house rather than directly outside. This was it; there was no escape now, I had to go through with it. I hesitated to leave the relative safety of the car, however, and sat there chewing my lip.

"Come on," Liz encouraged me, putting her hand on my knee. "It won't be that bad."

I smiled nervously at her. "Leave the explaining to me," she said, and got out of the car, shutting the door with marvellous quietness. She walked around to the passenger side, which was against the curb, and opened the door for me. I swung my legs out, and was acutely aware of their covering of peach coloured satin. My feet hit the floor, and with some reluctance, I lifted myself from the seat. I picked up the bags from the foot well, and breathing deeply, stood beside Liz, who was looking very pleased with herself.

"Which one is it?" she asked, looking at the row of unassuming houses I had made her park by.

"Number fourteen," I said, and taking her arm, allowed her to walk me up the street the twenty yards or so to our front gate. I pulled her to a stop as we reached it, and stood still in fright.

"Come on petal," she said, "It'll be fine, I promise." She held the gate open for me, but I could not bring myself to go through. Smiling, she placed her hand in the middle of my back, and gently, but insistently, pushed me forward. My legs moved much against my will, and we walked up the short path towards the front door.

"Are we going to knock, or do you have a key?" Liz asked me. My key had been with my boy clothes, and I had no idea where they were.

"We'll have to knock," I said, with a quiver in my voice, and immediately wished I hadn't, because without any hesitation or fear, Liz stepped boldly up to the door, and rang the bell. I heard its familiar tone echo around the hall, and in dread, awaited the approach of either my Mum or my Dad. The air felt cold in my nose, and I felt my backbone stiffen. There was the sound of footfalls in the hall, and then, without ceremony, the door opened, and my mother stood there facing us.

It was dark, and to my temporary relief she showed no signs of immediate recognition.

"Hello, is it Mrs. Barnes?" Liz asked confidently and politely.

"Yes," replied my mother, looking her carefully up and down.

"I've brought your son home," Liz went on. My mother's eyes turned to me, and opened wide in surprise. "He looks a little different doesn't he?" Liz continued, with a hint of humour.

"Yes," my mother managed to say. "More than a little."

"Well you ought to be very proud of him," Liz announced. My mother's eyes turned back to her briefly. "We had a womanless beauty contest at school today, for charity, and your son won!"

She looked back to me, and I tried to smile, as her eyes travelled up and down my feminised form. Charity, I thought to myself; where did Liz get that from?

"I'm not surprised he won looking like that," my mother said.

"He does look good as a girl doesn't he?" Liz agreed enthusiastically. "He wanted to get changed before coming home, but I thought you might want to see what he looked like."

My mother appraised this thought, and nodded. "Yes," she said eventually. "I'm glad you did." She looked at me quizzically again. "Well, you'd better come in," she went on, standing to one side. Liz beckoned me to go in first.

"I'm his escort," she explained, "So I'm trying to be the perfect gentleman!"

I walked into the familiar well-lit hall, holding my dress rather too expertly in front of me. I heard the door shut behind us, and let my mother overtake me up the hall, and lead the way into the lounge. I could hear the television chattering away to itself in the corner of the room, and heard my Dad's voice say, "Who's that?"

"It's Steve," my Mum replied. "And a friend."

My Mum led the way into the room, and walking across, switched the telly off. I stood frozen by the doorway. My Dad had his back to us, and I felt genuine fear at the thought of him seeing me like this. Liz shared none of my concerns; that was evident. She strode into the room, and walked up to my father's chair and offered him her hand to shake.

"Hello Mr. Barnes," she said brightly and firmly. "I'm Liz."

My Dad was startled by this, and by the sight of the tall blonde vision who had suddenly appeared in front of him. He managed to stutter a greeting, and struggled to stand from the chair, eventually doing so, only to realise Liz was at least three inches taller than him.

He still hadn't seen me, and I stood frozen to the spot, biting my bottom lip. My dress felt like lead suddenly, and the shoes, which had been relatively comfortable only moments before, suddenly began to pinch my feet. I held my breath waiting for him to turn around, and noticed how my bust protruded absurdly in front of me.

"Steve's been entering a beauty contest," my Mum told him. "As a girl."

"What?" he spluttered, and turned towards me. His face went rigid as he saw me, his eyes looked on me.

"Hello," I said, as breezily as I could.

He looked me up and down, with his mouth opening and closing. Eventually he managed to speak. "My God," was all he said, before sitting down again.

"He was fantastic!" Liz enthused. "A bit reluctant at first, obviously, but once he got into the swing of it, he was brilliant."

"You never said anything about this," Mum said accusingly. "Maybe I could have helped you out with make up or something. Still, it doesn't look as if you needed much help in that department."

I walked gingerly further into the room, smiling nervously as a reply.

"We must have raised well over three hundred pounds for the local hospice thanks to your Steve here," Liz fabricated, smiling blithely. "He was the star of the show."

Mum's face still showed some concern. "Well, it sounds as if it was all in a good cause then," she reasoned. "Can I get you a drink? Coffee or something?"

"Yes please," Liz replied, and sat herself down on the sofa. "That would be fantastic."

Mum moved towards the door, but I was blocking her way. She stood in front of me, waiting for me to move, but I couldn't. Her eyes locked mine in a gaze that seemed to be searching my soul for information. "You look beautiful," she said, eventually. "I often wondered what it would be like to have a daughter, now it looks as if I'm finding out."

I smiled at her, hoping for some sort of approval. She shook her head. "What are you like?" she muttered. "Fancy getting yourself roped into this, I don't know!" Then, to my surprise, she hugged me briefly, before squeezing past me to go to the kitchen.

"Steve tells me you're a big football fan," Liz said to my Dad, as I tried to sneak through into the room without attracting any more stares from him.

"Yes," he replied, surprised at the approach.

"Me too!" Liz said enthusiastically. "I'm an Arsenal fan."

"Huh!" my Dad responded in mock disgust. "We're Chelsea supporters in this house."

"I know," Liz went on, as I carefully sat myself down next to her. She looked across at me, and smiled knowingly. "Did you see the game last week?"

The two of them then launched into a long and impassioned discussion about football. Mum came in half way through with coffees for us all, in our poshest cups on a polished metal tray, which she placed on the small coffee table.

"It was never offside!" Liz asserted. "I've scored hundreds of goals myself like that, and I've never been given offside."

My Dad was obviously taken aback by this. He looked at Liz questioningly. "You play football?"

"Yes," she replied confidently. "I'm the captain of the team."

"Oh," Dad said. "I didn't realise there was a girls' team."

"Well there is," Liz went on. "We're really good. We're in the area cup final in the week. You could come along and watch if you want."

I opened my mouth in horror. This was the occasion I had foolishly agreed to cheer at. It was one thing letting my Dad see me in a bridesmaid's dress, on the assumption that it was a one off thing; to have him see me in a cheerleader's outfit was an entirely different affair.

"I'll be working," he responded, much to my relief, and a discussion of the merits of various football formations began, to which I paid little attention.

"Where did you get the dress?" my Mum suddenly asked, from the other armchair.

"Nikki lent it to me," I replied nervously.

"Nikki?" she asked.

"She's a friend at school," I explained.

"You seem to be quite popular with the girls at the moment, what with staying over with, who was it, oh yes, Anita last week, and who gave you that necklace? Sarah or something?"

My hand went inadvertently to my throat where the necklace in question nestled.

"That reminds me," Mum went on. "I had a phone call earlier on from another of your girlfriends; well, her mother actually."

I wondered what she meant by this.
"I understand you've got yourself a Saturday job," she said.

I nodded nervously, not knowing what her reaction might be.

"Good," she went on. "It's about time you started earning a bit of money. Anyway, this girl's mother wanted to know if it was all right for you to stay over there tomorrow night. Apparently her daughter, what was her name?"

"Sue," I said.

"That's right; Sue. Well she works in the same shop, and apparently you've got quite an early start."

I nodded again.
"Well I said it was all right, but I'd forgotten that you'd already said that you might be staying over at Anita's again on Saturday."

I felt myself blushing.

"Well it's all right," she went on. "Obviously we won't be seeing much of you this weekend, but it's all right. The only thing," she said, leaning forward, and speaking a little conspiratorially. "You need to be a bit careful."

I wondered what she meant by this, and stared back at her.

"Well, I know it's good fun to go out with lots of girls, but I wouldn't want you to hurt their feelings."

"Hurt their feelings?" I said quizzically.

"Well you've got Liz here," she whispered, "And Sue tomorrow night. And then Anita on Saturday. Girls can get a bit jealous you know."

"I know," I replied, breathing a little more easily. I had been worried that turning up in a dress would make my parents worry about the gay thing. Instead of that, my Mum seemed to have reached the conclusion that I was a bit of a Casanova.

Liz and my Dad droned on and on about football, while Mum and I sat in silence for a while. Their conversation became quite animated at times, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"It's a lovely dress," my Mum said, obviously as bored as I was. "What's it made out of?"

"It's satin." I said, and then cursed myself for showing too much knowledge. "It's an old bridesmaid's dress actually. Or at least I think so."

"Yes, it's got a bit of a bridesmaid look about it," Mum agreed. "What colour do you call that?"

"Peach," I said, and again cursed myself. "Or at least that's what Nikki said.

My Mum nodded sagely. "What have you made your boobs from? They look quite realistic."

"Socks," I replied truthfully.

She nodded again. "Well they look good enough. I'm pleased you didn't try and make them too big. Lots of men make that mistake when they dress up as women."

I smiled in reply. "Well I had some help and guidance from all my girlfriends."

She laughed, and shook her head in mock admonition. "I bet you did."

I think Liz and my Dad would have talked all night, but eventually my Mum interrupted their analysis of the entire history of English football to suggest that we ought to be thinking about getting off to bed.

"Oh right," Liz replied. "Sorry about that Mrs. Barnes. I was enjoying myself so much, I didn't notice the time."

My Mum smiled indulgently at her.

"Oh one thing I forgot to tell you as well," Liz went on. "Steve's going to have to dress up again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes. The local paper wants to do some photos of him in all his glory. I'll come and pick him up at say eight o'clock if that's all right, and drive him in."

Mum looked at me, "Well it's all right by me. Will he need any help getting dressed or anything?"

"I don't think so," Liz replied, standing up. "He's quite the expert now! He's got the uniform to put on, so I think he'll be okay."

"What about make up?" Mum asked.

"Well it would be fun to see him try it himself wouldn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it would."

"But if you could just check him over, it would help a bit."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

Liz said her goodbyes to my parents, while I waited patiently to show her out. As we got to the door, I grabbed her gently by the shoulders. "What was all that about charity for goodness sake!"

She shrugged. "Well I thought I'd make it sound a bit more altruistic, that's all." She smiled at me, and then leant over, and kissed me delicately on the lips. Immediately my head spun again, and I let myself sink into her arms, not wanting her to go.

We stood snogging on the doorstep for several minutes, and only stopped when my Mum came up behind me and told me to hurry up, tutting about what the neighbours might say.

Looking a little coy, I separated from Liz, and watched her walk back to her car, waving at me. Full of joy, I shut the door, and lent against it with my eyes shut for a while.

"We're off to bed now," my Mum said, rousing me from this rapture. "Will you be okay getting that dress off on your own?"

I let the fog clear from my mind for a moment. "Yes, I'll be fine," I replied. "I'll see you in the morning.

She nodded, and climbed the stairs. I went into the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of water before doing the same myself. Getting out of the dress on my own was rather more difficult than I had anticipated, and at one stage I very nearly decided to ask for Mum's help. I managed it eventually, and slipped it off, revealing to myself in the mirror my bra, stockings and suspenders. I turned first one way, and then the other, to see what I really looked like in them. My bum really did look rather large, I thought to myself, then shrugged, and sat down on the bed to take my underwear off, before collapsing into the bed to sleep.

  

  

  

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