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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.
Comments welcome to bethjac@hotmail.com
A series of stories with TG themes, dedicated to women, and to men who like to be women (which includes me!)
G is for Gemma - Just the 'Girl Next Door'
by Bethany Jacques
It all really started on a Monday, actually. One bright sunny Monday, early summer, an unusually warm day for June in England. And it really was stupid thing to do. Sun-bathing in a bikini in my back garden, that is. I'd only bought it the previous day and it really wasn't so hot as to justify lying there soaking up the sun. But it just seemed a good idea at the time. Until.
Until I was shaken by the noise behind me. I turned to look. It was the guy from next door, David. He'd pushed to side door from the garage open and was standing there looking at me. Shit!
"Well what do we have here. A tranny sissy if I'm not mistaken"
"I ..." I just couldn't speak. I sat up and glimpsed my reflection in the window beside me. At least I could make out the basic outline, bare shoulders and the gold bra of my bikini top. Long curly blonde hair. Red lipstick.
"Thought you were safe did you, you pansy? Didn't realise did you? I was up a ladder fixing the bedroom window catch next door. Got a clear view. You looked good at first from up there, I thought you had a tart in for the afternoon. Then I realised 'it's Geoffrey'. Geoffrey the pansy that is."
"I thought ..". That was all I could mutter.
"Well Geoffrey, very interesting. Wait till I tell the guys at the rugby club I've got a tranny poofter living next door. Just you wait."
"You mustn't, you can't. Please.."
At last some element of coherence but not much. "Please, don't tell anybody..."
"Well I might not . If .... No, you wait and see."
With which he was off, he turned and closed the door behind him. I sat. Thinking. Fuck! Caught out, I'd been so careful for so long, I'd been dressing up as a woman, enjoying the feel and the look of feminine apparel and make-up and shoes and all that for maybe two years and never ever come close to being caught out. I'd been SO careful. And now this one mistake, going out into the back garden. It had seemed so private, the top part of the lawn wasn't overlooked by any of the neighbour's windows at all. But this guy David, on a ladder, I'd never even thought of that. Well, you wouldn't would you?
I went back into the flat and stripped and washed off my make-up and changed. Packed away my dress-up clothes, I wouldn't be needing them for a while. If he did tell his mates? Not that I knew any of them but the word would get around. You didn't hear about guys who dress up and ponce around in the garden in a bikini very often. The phone rang.
"Hello"
"Hello. David here, from next door. "
Shit!
Ringing to taunt me, to rub it in maybe. I didn't know him all that well, I'd only been in the flat for a month or two. But I didn't really like him too much, David that is. Seemed far too much one of the boys, always showing off in his red sports car. OK he was a good Rugby player but he knew it, he always seemed rather arrogant, showing off with his mates - and with a succession of girls he brought home. Not exactly regularly but I'd rarely seen him with the same one twice. Probably attracted by the macho image and the car.
"I've just been thinking. No reason to tell anyone what I saw earlier."
Great! Maybe he did have a good side to him.
"But you have to do one or two things for me."
One or two things? What was he getting at?
"OK, since you want to be a sissy tranny. Be round at my back door at eight o'clock tonight, just after it gets dark. And dressed in something decent. Skirt and blouse or something like that. Since you want to be a girl you can do some girly things round here. I've a load of washing to do, you can get that sorted tonight. Then we'll see. Unless you do want me to tell everybody....?"
He had me cold and he knew it. I had no choice.
I rang off and got my girly stuff out again. And at one minute to eight, I daren't be late, I was ringing his doorbell. Thank goodness it was getting dark by then. Anyway, I was dressed. Dressed up, that is. Blue stripy blouse over my black bra and panties, skirt, tights, heels. And I'd put on my makeup and clip earrings and my blonde wig, I really did feel a bit of a fool. I'd never ever been 'out' as a woman before and this wasn't what I'd had in mind.
"OK" said David, inspecting me as soon as he'd let me in and closed the door. "You'll do. I'm not expecting any visitors tonight so I'm going to watch the football, you can do the washing for me. OK?"
I had no choice. He was a typically untidy bachelor, kitchen rather grubby, clothes all over the bedroom floor. Obviously he'd decided that I could be his slave, his domestic help, his maid or whatever, he'd get his house looked after for free. So I did the washing and some of the clearing up in the kitchen. And it didn't stop at that. Every week maybe twice a week, for nearly two months, he'd ring me up in the evening, I'd have to get dressed up and go round and do chores, ironing, cleaning, cooking, washing, even get him beers from the fridge and so on.
I've never been the totally subservient kind of tranny but I have to admit that at first it wasn't too bad. Not exactly fun but bearable. For a few weeks that is but as he became more demanding it got more difficult, I was spending too much time dealing with David's problems and not enough doing my own stuff. My own social life such as it was vanished. Yet one Friday evening, as I was finishing doing his washing-up and dusting the living room, coincidence started to intervene.
"OK sissy. I want you round here again tomorrow night. My suit needs pressing and that white shirt you've just washed will need ironing. I need to look my best on Sunday, it's the Rugby club party and I need to pull. So be here again, eight o'clock."
It was his next statement which, surprisingly, opened up everything for me.
"And you look a mess tonight, tart yourself up a bit, I don't like looking at a messy tart doing my chores."
The nerve of the guy, even though I knew he was right. I'd not been so careful, much of the fun had gone out of dressing, he seemed so unappreciative of my efforts and now he was criticising my dress sense and my make-up and so on. OK, I'd let it slip my standards of femininity but what did he expect? What he did expect I didn't know but, changing back a few minutes later back in my little flat, I began to formulate some sort of plan. I'd got my notice of eviction, I'd known it was coming anyway. But my landlord was a good guy, he'd said if I could be out in a few days he'd waive the final month's rent. I had it ready for him , suddenly and unexpectedly I had some spare cash. I determined to use it wisely.
That Saturday afternoon I didn't spend long in the 'Transform' store, probably less than an hour. But I could have stayed longer there, such was the array of items of interest to any transvestite. Clothes, wigs, make-up, lots and lots of stuff. OK they had more general-purpose sex stuff as well but that didn't interest me. Helen, the assistant in there, really was kindness personified, explaining what it was all about. I thought about how some of the stuff there could help me in my primary aim, to present myself to the world in general and to David in particular on that occasion as a woman. Maybe she was just trying to make a sale, perhaps she was working on commission, I don't know. If so she was good at her job. I left there with a bag full of goodies and a certainty that at some time in the future I would be back.
Another bus ride later I was back in my flat planning the evening. With Helen's advice in mind and with my own aim in view I took even more time and more care than ever before in preparing myself for what lie ahead.
I headed straight for the bath to wash away all my male smells. Getting out of the bath I wrapped myself in a thin negligee and then began the process of becoming Nadine. I shaved my face incredibly closely, hot water, new razor etc. Twice. Then I went to the spare bedroom where I had all my 'Gemma' items spread out on the bed and hung in the wardrobe.
I tucked my cock and balls between my legs before pulling up my lacy black panties. I used my waist nipper that reduced me right down to a 24 inch waist. The padded bra gave me a bust many women would be pleased with. At each stage I rather vainly admired myself in the mirror, checking I look just right.
Next came the stockings, black and sheer, so flattering.
I wanted to wear a short crop top that didn't quite reach the waist band of my skirt, but revealed a sexy stripe of midriff flesh. My favourite outfit is a sparkly silver crop top, an indecently short, tight, black skirt, black stockings (if I want to look like a slut - which I did) and 5 inch black stilettos. I stepped into my skirt, then put on my shoes, then time for my make-up. I sat at the dressing table and spent nearly two hours getting the look right. Tarty but classy is how I would describe it. Black eye-liner, mascara, bright red lips, all part of the look. I have two wigs, one blonde, one black, but it just had to be the blonde one again. I put on long clear stick-on fake finger nails and spent some time carefully coating them with deep red nail polish.
Cosmetics completed, I added some jewellery; bracelets, an anklet, a necklace and ear-rings, of course. I love big hoop dangly ear-rings. A quick spray of perfume and I was ready for the evening.
At seven o'clock I was ready and, to settle myself down and to try to be prepare for whatever the evening had in store, I paused in my preparations and sat in the kitchen having my own evening meal. I was nervous, SO nervous but I knew I had to do something lest David's continued domination of me totally wreck my life
So I sat there eating my steak pie. Sat at my own little kitchen table, trying hard to cope with the novelty of my long red stuck-on nails. And the jewellery, the six rings on my fingers and the choker round my neck and the big gold pendant clip-on earrings. And the unaccustomed garb, the short silver top, pulled tight across my chest to show off my boobs. Yes, my boobs. I'd had the breast-forms for a while but hadn't worn them properly fitted, properly stuck on, for a while. So I'd bought some fresh adhesive at 'Transform' that afternoon and fitted them ready for the evening.
Those and the tight black skirt, the black stockings and high heels which again I'd had for a while but not worn to visit next door, the same long blondish curly wig but this time enhanced by much more striking make-up, deep purple eye-shadow and a dark finely applied lipstick, the whole effect was so much more extreme than anything I'd tried before. It must have looked so incongruous, such a figure sitting alone with a meat pie and a glass of red wine but I needed time to settle.
At five to eight I was ready. At one minute to eight, handbag slung over my shoulder, I was at David's back door ringing the bell. As usual, so as not to give neighbours time to spot me there waiting, he was prompt in opening the door.
He looked at me and grinned. "Well!"
I'd obviously made something of an impression. But I was half-expecting the mockery and taunting which followed.
"Look at the little tranny sissy we have here, then. Don't you look a right faggot, Geoffrey. Better come in. Don't want the Evans's over the road to see you like that do we?"
"Good evening Sir" I replied with excessive deference as I went in. He always liked me to say 'Sir', like a proper maid, when I was working for him. "I hope this is all right, Sir, you did say you wanted me to take more care with my appearance."
"Too right, you little tranny slut. I'm so glad you did, you really do look a right tart tonight. Now then sissy, you've got things to do. The suit is in the kitchen and I want my shirts you did yesterday ironed. And careful with my best white dress shirt, I want it looking immaculate for tomorrow night. So get on with it and no funny business, I'm off down the club to watch the football. They've just got the wide-screen TV in there, I'll be back about eleven and I expect you to be finished by then."
And with those words he grabbed his jacket and keys and was off. I heard the engine of his sports car gunning as he backed out and moved off up the road. Fuck! Not at all what I had wanted. But would it spoil everything I had hoped to do? Maybe not, I had to be adaptable, to achieve my goals even in this new situation. I'd hoped to spend the whole evening softening him up but that was now not possible.
Back about eleven? So he wasn't stopping 'til closing time, probably wanted to make sure I'd done things right. Ok so I'd give him no reason to complain, I quickly did what he would have expected me to do, got his clothing properly prepared and then switched on his TV myself to watch the match. Well, why not? Lots of girls like football too!!
And by eleven I had plan B ready. He was just a few minutes late and slightly drunk. If he'd been caught by the cops driving in that state it would really have ruined my tactics. As he came in I was sweetness and light.
"Good evening Sir, shall I take your coat?"
"I thought I told you to get out when you'd finished" he replied rather rudely. "All done?"
"Oh yes Sir. Can I get you another drink? Was it a good game?"
"Yeah, get me a beer, slut. And yeah it was, four-one. FOUR-ONE!" he almost shouted punching the air.
"I thought you might like to see the news, Sir, they're bound to show the goals again."
"Oh sure, come on, you gotta see this, that third goal was so magic. MAA-GIIC!" he called out again in exultation at his team's win. I switched on the set again and went to get his drink. As I did so I dared to get myself a small gin at the same time as David's beer. I gave it to him and sat on the edge of the sofa while he himself sprawled across it with his can, watching the match which had just come on and waiting for the goals.
"Shit did you see that, that was never a goal, that wasn't was it?"
He leered across at me. Yes, he really did leer, I'm sure he was looking at my thighs as I sat there on the chair arm with my legs crossed.
"It wasn't, was it? Tell me sissy?" He was shouting. I began to be a little unsure of my strategy, this wasn't going as well as I had hoped. "Er, no Sir, I'm sure it wasn't"
"And who said you could get yourself a drink!!" he shouted, beginning to stand up and move across towards me.
"Oh YES did you see that!!"
Thankfully the screen was grabbing his attention, I shuffled my bum to show a little more thigh. He was definitely looking now, my heart began to pump just a little faster. The TV producer, whoever had done the highlights editing must have got a little bored with this match, the rest of the goals came in quick succession, David getting more and more excited even though he'd already seen the whole game on the big TV. As the final whistle went just after the last goal David punched the air in delight, still shouting out, 'FOUR - ONE, FOUR - ONE !!! Yes yes yes!!!'
OK, so City and I had between us got him happy, the combination of the game and the drink and my legs had in some way worked.
"More drinks?"
I didn't give him time to reply, I was there in seconds with another can for him and another drink for me. And this time - no 'Sir', just the question, I wanted to change the balance of power just a little. I moved up quite close to him as he stood and took the can from my hand, facing him so that this time it was my cleavage I was flaunting right in front of his eyes. The drink was already getting to me, I could so easily have blown it by going too fast.
"You like?"
Now that was definitely risky, I'd tried to soften my voice all evening to give it some sort of feminine tone but this time I'd lowered it just a little to try to sound just a little sexy.
"Sit down, I'll turn off the TV now".
With which I gently pushed David down back onto the sofa and sat down next to him and reached across to press the remote. For the very first time - our bodies were in contact.
"Do you think I have nice breasts?" I asked innocently, well, as innocently as I could.
"Yeah sure, for a tranny sissy you sure do have good-looking boobs!" He giggled at his own rather feeble taunting.
David looked closely at me, I was sitting right next to him, he began to look uneasy. I was getting there! He was a bit drunk and rather confused, what he knew about the real me was getting mixed up in his fuddled mind with what he saw. I moved quickly now, again crossing my legs to show loads of thigh. I was determined. The only way out was to get the upper hand, to seduce this guy whatever I thought of him. I had to move very quickly, I noticed his hand moving down to adjust his trousers. He was getting aroused! By a transvestite!
"Would you like to feel my breasts?" I asked huskily. "Undo my blouse, go on. Have a good look, have a feel of them."
David could hardly refuse, he was still confused but he responded like any other red-blooded male faced by a pair of bulging tits only inches from his face. I looked down nervously as I felt him undoing my buttons and sliding a hand in under the cup of my bra. But his breathing became faster and I could see the swelling visibly grow inside his trousers. Now for it! I again just touched the bulge, then stroked it slightly. I heard him moan.
"You're horny aren't you? Can I help? Please?"
I didn't wait for a reply, just pulled down the zipper and slid my hand in, coming out again quickly with David's cock cradled in my fingers.
" Hey, what are you doing, you fucking pervert, you .... Ohhhh!"
"Wow David, that looks so good. Do you want me to help you to wank?"
He really was in a quandary as I leaned over him, moving very quickly in order not to give him time to really consider what was happening. But the moment my lips touched his cock-head I knew I had won. His breathing slowed as he moaned quietly again, I could feel his left hand squeeze my right tit a little harder and - more than that - his right hand grip my nylonned upper thigh.
"Come on David, I want to feel you cum - in my mouth!"
He was trapped and I suspect if he'd really thought about it he'd have agreed with that. But he wasn't thinking, he was just moaning more loudly now as I slid my smooth red lips down over his throbbing penis. I wanted to say something else, to encourage him, to try to direct his thoughts in the direction I needed, to make sure he was not going to suddenly realise what was going on.
But I couldn't. Couldn't say a word. My mouth was full of growing hot cock, my nose was filled with the strong odour - of sweat. Of lust. Of some sort of passion. As he began to buck my mouth more and more, as his moaning and groaning got louder, as the smell got stronger and his hands groped my boobs and my thigh more firmly - it happened.
He ejaculated. Hot creamy juices suddenly filled my waiting mouth. He wasn't moaning now, he was crying out. In delight! He may have been totally 100% straight up to that evening and so was I, in deed if not in thought, suddenly neither of us was. For maybe twenty seconds that hot thick cock was jetting cum deep into my throat, my lover was moaning and groaning loudly as his body writhed and wriggled. He was having such fun. And I loved it. I swallowed, I swallowed hard. Every drop.
He subsided. I stood up. I stood over him. I looked down, looked at his now-shrivelled cock. And I felt sorry for him in a way. Then I remembered what he'd been doing to me all those weeks and I hardened.
"OK David. It's over. Don't you dare try to make fun of me anymore. And don't you dare think of telling anyone about my dressing-up habits, I'm sure all your friends at the Rugby club would be delighted to hear how you got sucked off by a transvestite. And how you enjoyed it - I really think you did. After all, I didn't exactly have to twist your arm, did I?"
"You bastard!" he shouted, lunging over towards me, "I'll show you ......"
I managed to move, very quickly, as he lunged towards me and fell onto the armchair. He was upset, of course he was.
"Don't you dare! You do what I say this time and there'll be no problem! I'm in charge from now on. And watch your mouth, David. Never ever call me a bastard again! "
I smiled at him.
"'Bitch' I could go with."
I turned and stormed out. Luckily I got back to my own front door without anyone else seeing me though I like to think they wouldn't have seen anything untoward if they had. Maybe another of David's girlfriends rushing out, certainly thinking about it now I don't think any of them would have realised the truth. Or anything near it.
I got in, closed the door behind me, and started crying. Not uncontrollably, you understand, just quiet whimpering. And not in despair or in distress, just small tears of relief. The plan had worked! I was out from under his thumb, I'd got myself away from David's threats and promises, just about home free. I knew - when he'd sobered up - he'd realise I had in fact won. His hold over me was finished. If I'd had any gin or scotch in the house, any strong spirit in fact, I'd probably have got totally pissed on it even after my two gins at his house. But all I had was one small bottle of beer in the fridge. I calmed down a little and opened it, pouring it into a tall glass, really in some way wanting to drink it in a more lady-like way. Silly really.
I sat there on my little sofa, legs crossed, gently caressing my own nylon-covered thighs. Thinking about what I'd done. Oral sex, no other name for it, I'd sucked a man off. Quite quickly I realised the thought was arousing me, in fact I was surprised I'd not reacted in that way during the actual blow-job. But really I'd been concentrating on the plan, making sure he was well and truly seduced. I thought about other things too, about his hands sliding up my thighs, as my own red-taloned fingers moved over the tops of my stockings and started caressing my own cock through my satin panties. If he'd done that ....
And inevitably I climaxed myself, shooting cum over my knickers and over my skirt. Wow! The whole thing, apart from its serious intention to release me from David's threats, had been - well - fun. Maybe I didn't have to stop there.
As I changed into my ordinary clothes and removed my make-up and so on my mind was racing ahead. In bed that night I couldn't stop thinking about David's cock, about its shape, its size, its colour - I wanked again. And yet again in the morning before I got up, I just couldn't get it out of my mind. Not just that, the actual penis itself, but also the look on his face just after I'd blown him. He really had actually enjoyed it and so had I. So what next?
That Sunday my mind raced through all sorts of possibilities and back again, I mentally explored all the avenues open to me. But I kept coming back to the same road, the same thought, what the neighbours would have thought if they'd seen me that previous night. One of David's girlfriends rushing out and going next door. Eventually, I knew just what I wanted to do. I knew he was due to go out that evening, to the Rugby Club, some sort of presentation or something. Well, maybe not. Maybe he could be persuaded, even told, to stay at home that evening. And I was the girl to persuade him.
So, for the third time in as many days, I 'dressed' up again. I took just as long over my prostheses and my make-up as the previous day, I really did feel that for the first time I had got it exactly right, and I wanted to do it again. I knew he was heading off to the Rugby Club at 8.30 that Sunday evening which is why, at 8.25 exactly, I was at his front door. If it had been open I'd have pushed it and gone straight in. But it wasn't, I had to ring the bell. I turned away, looking across the street, so that he'd just see my back as he opened the door, and wouldn't have the chance to slam it shut. I could see Joe Evans, the older guy in the big house across the street. He was looking at me. Can't blame him really. I felt fantastic.
For the first time 'out', I was wearing a dress. My one 'classic TV' cocktail dress, dark blue with glistening silver threads all through it, short and tight, and plunging between my 'boobs' to show a convincingly dark cleavage. I felt good. I could almost feel Joe's stare.
The door opened behind me, I turned and pushed my way in.
"Good evening, David. It IS a good evening, isn't it? Since you've wrecked my social life for several weeks now I thought I'd come round and wreck yours. So, are you going to get me a drink?"
"I'm not!" he almost shouted, trying to push me out of the door. "You can get ..."
"Now, now, darling, that's no way to talk to the woman next door. Not very neighbourly is it?"
I moved towards him, putting my hand on his chest, almost pushing my very impressive cleavage in his face. He was uncomfortable, I could feel him breathing hard, he must have been inhaling my perfume. This was actually fun!
"Come on, David. I mean, you don't want me to go down to the club, do you? Tell all your friends about what we got up to last night? Are you going there tonight? You are looking particularly gorgeous yourself tonight?"
Again, I had him. It was his turn to be under my thumb, I was the dominant one. I didn't want to waste the upper hand, I wanted HIM to obey ME this time. And if it meant he missed his night out and spent it with me, OK. I taunted him again.
"If you are, you could maybe give me a lift? Or shall we just stay in and get drunk together, you never know your luck? OK, so tell me how delightful I look tonight."
OK, so I'm a vain tranny. Aren't we all? I took his hand and moved back a little, holding out my other arm and posing, so he could get a good look. His eyes moved from my cleavage, down my body to my micro-dress, my stockings, high heels, then up to my carefully made-up face and jewellery and so on.
"Well?"
"You look fucking sensational!"
I glowed. Really glowed. I'd expected him to say 'You look OK' or something like that, but in his own foul-mouthed way he'd paid me an enormous compliment. I had just opened my mouth to thank him for that when, very much to my surprise, I heard and felt a movement behind me. I was jolted forward a little, towards David, and he'd had no option but to put an arm out to catch me. Someone had opened the door behind me! We hadn't moved right into the small lounge, just stood near the door, I think David was hoping I'd leave pretty quickly. In fast I know he did.
But I hadn't, and in the minute or two we'd been standing there someone - I had no idea who - had obviously come to visit. I turned, we both looked towards the door, both totally scared in our different way. David would be terrified someone would see him - with a TV - and I was worried I'd be found out with all the consequences that would bring.
There were in fact two visitors. The first was a young man, probably about David's age, maybe a little older, and the second was a woman. Both rather dressed up, both obviously going out for the evening. It was she who spoke first.
"Sorry David, I didn't know there would be - hello, I'm Lisa, this is my boyfriend Jason."
And she held her hand out towards me. I looked at the hand, then up at their faces. I glowed - again!! Neither of them had 'read' me, they had both assumed I was female. The ultimate compliment, I think, for any tranny. But Lisa was waiting. Quickly I reached out my own right hand, I gripped David's even harder with my own left.
"Hi there, I'm Gemma."
That's all I said, just the four words. It was enough. Lisa gently shook my hand, Jason didn't, he just nodded his 'hello'. I was 'passing'. Actually passing. Like most trannies I'd always secretly believed I could, at least I'd wanted to believe it. I'd always thought - one day, I'll try it. Find some sort of safe-ish situation, maybe in the evening or early morning when there weren't many people around. Dress up inconspicuously and probably wear just a little too much make-up, hopefully not so much as to attract attention. And go for a walk, or a drive maybe.
Yet here I was, in David's front room, confronted by two of his friends, at least at that moment I assumed they were. And passing. In a tight 'pelmet'! Yes! So what next? Hell, what next? Lisa decided for me.
"David, you dark horse, you. You never let on about Gemma, That's very naughty of you. Anyway, we just called to ask if we can have a lift to the club tonight, something's wrong with Jason's car. Can we all fit into your little thing? It should be OK, Gemma and I can squeeze in the back. If you don't mind, Gemma, that is."
Like I said, first time out, 'dress up inconspicuously'. I certainly hadn't. I'd wanted to wear the short tight dress in the hope maybe of just persuading David to stay in, I'd known that really wouldn't work but maybe the threat of some sort of exposure to his friends would do the trick. And I'd really had no thoughts beyond that. But Lisa had read something else into the dress, she'd assumed quite naturally that since David had his suit on, clearly freshly showered and shaved and so on, and I was there in my tight blue dress and high heels, that he was taking me out. And being Sunday night, obviously taking me to the club, or somewhere special at least. She seemed at that moment to read my mind.
"Oh sorry, I mean, are you two off out somewhere else?
"NO!" David replied just a little too loudly, suddenly aware that he was maybe about to be accused of taking a transvestite to dinner.
"Oh good" continued Lisa. Come on, Gemma, let's shoe-horn ourselves into the back of David's car, then." And she held out a well-manicured hand towards him. I didn't realise why, I wasn't thinking straight. But he did, he reached into his pocket and passed his car keys to Lisa.
Basically he was fucked. He had no choice. The lovely Lisa had, as I said, come to the obvious conclusion and he just had to go along with it. Me? I was thrilled. Lisa was a bouncy young thing, probably ten years younger than me though I like to think, again all trannies do I suppose, that dressed and made up I can pass for younger. She almost skipped out to the car, I realised that despite my heels I was almost skipping too. This was fun. Even more fun than the previous night's cock sucking. That had been for a purpose, this was just FUN!
We chatted, we actually chatted, girl-to-girl for a few minutes, she'd just got round to asking some rather personal details about my relationship with David when he and Jason came out to join us. I realised that, delighted as I was to be in that situation, I was actually passing as a woman and I was going OUT but David was probably not so sure. He was going along with it because he had to, he didn't really have a choice. And what with the questions Lisa had started asking, we really did have to get a thing or two sorted out.
"Er - David darling? Where did you put that new eye-pencil I bought? Is it in the bedroom? Can you come and show me?" And I grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the house after me. As we stopped inside the door I opened my handbag and got out my eye-pencil.
"What the hell was all that about? I mean, bedroom, now they both think..."
"David! Listen! Fuck that, you're taking me out on a date, like it or not. Now LISTEN! If anyone asks, and I bet someone will, we met in a pub a week ago. Been out on one date, to the pictures, we saw the new Matrix film. And we haven't slept together yet. OK? Get that into your mind, we'll have to play the rest by ear."
And I grabbed his hand again and pulled him back towards the car. Lisa and I did manage to squeeze ourselves into the two small seats in the back, I really did have to control myself in such close proximity to a sexily-clad young woman.
"Gemma? You wearing stockings?" muttered Lisa as we drove along. She probably couldn't help noticing, the hem of my dress had slid up as we squeezed ourselves in. "Really, that's rather naughty of you, unless - does that mean - you and David, I mean - tonight, are you planning ...?"
I just smiled at her, I didn't want to say much. "Maybe, if he's lucky"
At the club we got separated from Jason and Lisa almost as soon as we went in. And to be honest we rather stayed on the fringes of everything going on there all through the evening. This suited me fine, David was probably a bit disappointed though. Some of his friends did come up to us as we sat at the bar, I just played along, sitting there trying to look pretty, trying to do my 'boyfriend' justice. In that respect I think I did well, certainly I'm sure some of them muttered to each other when we were out of earshot, something about David's new woman, the tart with the tight skirt and long sexy legs. At least that's what I hoped they were saying. I did chat briefly to a couple of girls - I can't really say 'other girls' - during the evening, everyone wanted to know about David and me.
And the one totally gratifying thing which didn't happen, absolutely nobody all evening, of the fifteen or twenty we talked to at various stages of the evening, no-one said anything at all about anything to do with my gender. I'd 'passed' totally. I'd always hoped one day I'd get the chance, the evening really was wonderful.
Despite all the stuff going on, my cross-dressing, being there and in that situation, David didn't get pissed that evening. Nowhere near. He had one pint at the start of the evening, and then moved onto lemonade all the rest of the evening.
"It's the drink-driving, Gemma." Lisa said to me when she and Jason came over to say they had got a lift home with some different friends. "Couple of years ago, David's younger brother got knocked down by a drunk driver. That hit him hard at the time, he's so careful now. It's not just the law or the ticket or whatever with him now, he's very strict on himself, and on his friends too, he often tells them of if someone's had too many and looks like he's going to drive home. Very strict."
I looked a little surprised. Not at the drink-driving thing, that made sense.
"Oh, no Gemma. I mean, if he's at home, or if he's out and someone sober is driving or if he's got a taxi arranged, well, then he's liable to get totally pissed out of his brain."
Which explained the previous evening. Eventually time was called and David drove me home. Lisa and Jason ended up getting a ride home with another couple, either home or somewhere else that is. When we got to his place he went straight in and I followed. He went straight to the drinks table and got himself a large something. He didn't offer me anything, just sat there and stared at me. e went straight to the drinks table and got himself a large something, All through the evening, what with Lisa's questions at first and then with other people joining in we'd never actually been alone. So we'd not discussed anything about my being there. Clearly David was uncomfortable about it.
"So, David, can I get myself a drink?"
He just glared again and nodded. I got myself a gin-and-tonic and turned to face him. "Well? Say something, David."
He just stared again. Then he did speak. "I suppose you're happy with yourself, I mean, you are a faggot aren't you? Last night proved it. And tonight just confirms it, I mean, what kind of man would want to mince around looking like that?"
He really did seem rather bitter but his comments upset me, in fact they annoyed me.
"Look here, David. You've been playing me up and insulting me for weeks now. And there's no way I would have even thought about going along with you tonight, it was just that Lisa damn near insisted. Once she'd found us together it seemed the best way out. And you have to admit, I did a good job. I'm surprised how well I did myself, and yes, I enjoyed myself. So I'm a transvestite. There are different sorts of men who like dressing up, for me it's always been an ambition to 'pass' as a female and I did that tonight."
"So you want to be seen as a woman? And treated as one? I mean, are you planning on a sex change, having your cock cut off, that sort of thing?"
"David, I can't say I've not thought about it. But just a bit, not seriously. No, that's not for me. I just like being seen as a sexy woman."
And at that I stood to go and get myself another drink. A small one, I didn't want to overdo things myself. I got David another one too, then stood in front of him and posed to show off my legs and my figure.
"So what do you think then? You do realise most of your friends reckon we're an item, sleeping together and all that. I didn't say anything about that when that short blonde girl asked me - Marion, isn't it?"
"Yes, Marion."
"Well she thinks we're having it away."
He sat quietly for a moment. "I never asked" he continued, relaxed by the drinks though still very sober. "I mean, are you actually gay? Going with men and all that?"
His tone had changed. Quite suddenly he wasn't being so aggressive, he was actually interested. "No, never done that. I mean, until today I've never been anywhere dressed and I wouldn't have done if Lisa hadn't basically kidnapped me."
He just stared at me. "Like I said tonight, mate, you do look fucking fantastic."
I glowed with satisfaction. I just had to thank him. I put my glass down and walked as sexily as I could up to him.
"Thank you David." And I kissed him on the cheek. From that close up maybe he could have seen through me, past my disguise, but he didn't say anything. Or at least when he did I was very surprised.
"So you really want to be treated like a woman?"
"Yes, sure, that's been my fantasy for years."
And he kissed me again on the lips. Harder, then passionately. And I felt his hands probing round my back and tugging at the back of my dress. The kiss, that first really major kiss, it went on for ages. And during it things changed. I didn't hate him, didn't dislike him, not any more. HE was kissing ME. And as we just went on and on and became even more passionate I had the feeling David's opinions were changing too.
Eventually I pushed away though I admit I didn't really push very hard.
"David..."
"Shut it, Gemma. I really can't cope, my head's all over the place. I mean, you look so sexy and you feel just wonderful, I'm as horny as hell. If you're a woman I reckon you need fucking."
He pulled me close again and French-kissed me again, pulling the zip on my dress right down this time. Again I pushed him away.
"David, you can't ..."
"I said shut it. Now, you have a choice, I make love to you or I rape you. Which is it to be?"
He'd said it. Not 'fuck'. He'd said 'make love to'. I smiled. I knew.
The next morning I was up earlier than David. The events of the previous twelve hours had amazed me. And the first thing I had to do was to visit the bathroom and expel David's accumulated cum from my arse. We'd made love five times, I reckoned, each one a mind-blowing experience. I'd decided after the first David wasn't such a bad guy after all. OK so he'd treated me badly at first but since then - wow! Very quickly and carefully, head down, I crept out of his back door and across to mine. I stripped, showered and changed, re-doing my make-up, then went back across to his place and sorted coffee and some croissants. I carried them up and put them beside the bed. He was still asleep.
"Morning lover" I whispered in his ear as he stirred when I kissed his cheek. "Coffee?"
And indeed this was a totally different David from the one I'd had to deal with up to two days earlier. He was even apologetic about it.
I sat there on the bed beside him while we had breakfast together. I'd changed out of my posh dress but I still liked the idea of looking sexy, obviously, so I'd gone for a white see-through blouse with a deep V-neck, and a tight black linen skirt. With stockings and high heels, or course. David stroked my thigh as we chatted, it felt gorgeous.
"Gemma. I work in a firm in the city. I have to do what the senior partners tell me, and they're just about the most homophobic set of men I've ever met. I've never shared their views, they really are rather excessive, but I have always seen myself at totally straight. Until last night that is. I mean, I think I was maybe over-reacting to your dressing up before, making you do things and so on, and I know I shouldn't have."
I kissed him. Then I kissed him again.
"And are you homophobic, my lover?"
"No way! Maybe I was in some sort of way but - hell, Gemma, that was by a long way the most orgasmic night of sex I've ever had. I've never ever - well, there's several things we did I've never done before, never dreamed of."
"Like you've never fucked a woman with a cock?"
David looked at me. This wasn't the David I'd known several weeks earlier, the one who'd said so many unkind things about me. And forced me to do his chores and so on.
"I never dreamed of it but, I have to say, Gemma, it was just mind-blowing. The fuck was just great, your arse is so tight it turned me on no end. "
I was pleased. I was happy. I was deliriously happy. Though I'd never intended to I'd turned a straight man gay, or at least let loose his gay side. And my own gay persona had been fully released. Or maybe not. If I really WAS a woman, albeit one with a penis, maybe I was just a straight woman, and David a straight man. Complicated, this sex-and-gender stuff. Anyway, by whatever mechanism, we'd both found satisfaction.
"David? If you're serious about this, well. I have to go and change soon, I'm going to be late into work anyway. And I don't really have time to change and make-up in the week much. And as well as that I'm away visiting my parents next Saturday. But - next Sunday, maybe even every Sunday from now on, do you want me to be your girl-friend?"
He looked at me. To try to convince him I just shuffled a bit on the edge of the bed, crossing my legs to show off my thighs. He recognised what I was doing and smiled.
"OK Gemma. Yes. You can be my Sunday Girl! Every Sunday. How about it?"
We kissed. My heart fluttered. My mind raced, thinking of the consequences of what David had said. Wow!
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