Crystal's StorySite


Kit Kat

by Katherine Star
© 2002


Part One


It all started one afternoon while my wife and I were watching trashy daytime television. There was a show on where a multitude of beautiful women would strut across the stage and audience members would holler and shout above each other trying to outdo each other’s guess as to whether or not the beautiful woman was actually a woman or not.

"Ha!" She cried. "Called it again!" She smiled at across the living room. She was very good at detecting the "contestants" true nature... we were keeping score along with the audience. I had managed to make a couple of the ladies but, so far, my wife was batting a thousand.

My wife, April, and I had just moved to a new town and were having trouble finding work. We were running around applying to rumours of jobs and finding out that the positions had just been filled or that there was nothing available but they would keep the resume on file. It was, needless to say, quite disheartening.

So, here we were wiling away our afternoons watching tabloid television trying not to feel sorry for ourselves and fall deeper into despair when the phone rang. April ran to get as she had had several interviews and they had, for the most part, gone well.

"Hello? Yep." She said positively. "Uh-huh.... okay. Sounds good, see you on Monday at nine." This could mean only one thing.

"Well?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

"I got the job!" She smiled exuberantly and gave me a big hug. It was quite relieving that one of us had finally found work. "C’mon... let’s go talk." She started tugging at me and looking at me with those eyes that mean only one thing.

My girlfriend and I have sex a fair bit... we make love to celebrate anything and everything and often wind up in the bedroom several times a day. She complains about being a nympho and I just complain when our activities have tired me out.

We made sweet gentle love and relaxed in each other’s arms - content with the news of the day. She rolled over on her side and started to nuzzle my neck and stroke my chest.

"You know," She purred. "I‘m going to be bringing home the bacon for the next little while... wearing the pants so to speak . Maybe you’ll wind up like those she-guy thingies on the television!" She laughed at the suggestion.

"Why would you say something like that?" I asked innocently.

"Oh, no reason." She shrugged. "I was just thinking of you staying here, in the house, doing all the things that I’d be expected to do if you were off bringing home the bacon and I thought that you’d fit right in with those people on tv - except that you probably wouldn’t look as good in a skirt."

I didn’t know whether to feel insulted that she was usurping my role as the provider for the family or put out at the suggestion that I couldn’t do something as well as someone else... I decided to play along.

"Well, let’s see, then!" I laughed as I grab one of her black negligees from the floor and threw it on. We had played sex games before but we had yet to mess around with gender roles. I was shocked at how nice the silky soft garment felt on my skin. "Ooh... do I make you horny?" I purred in my best sex kitten voice.

"I think you need quite a bit more work if you’re ever going to make it onto afternoon television!" April just laughed and dragged me back to the bed where we proceeded to round two of the afternoon’s lovemaking.


* * *

The alarm went off far earlier on Monday than I was used to - unemployment was not doing anything special for my Circadian Rhythm. I laid in bed and listened to my wife get ready for work. I was able to doze off again while she was in the shower... the steady beat of the water against the tub had lulled me back to dreamland only to be rudely awakened by the sound of hair drier screaming at the wet hair in front of it. Sigh.... I threw a pillow over my head and was rewarded as my wife began to apply her makeup and do her face - blessed (relative) silence. I sat up in bed as I hear April scrounge about the closet looking for clothes.

"What am I going to wear?" She asked plaintively while looking oh so sexy in her underwear.

"Why don’t you try that black skirt with that maroon top you like?" I tried to hide my rising manhood. I always helped her with her outfits... she said I had a good eye for colour and neatness. I got up and stretched out. "I’ll go get us some breakfast."

I threw together some toast and eggs perused the morning paper and awaited April’s entrance. (She liked the dramatic.) I had managed to read through the latest sports headlines when she came in for breakfast. She looked radiant and exuded confidence. She looked very professional - a look that I happened to really like.

We kissed each other good morning - now that we had woken up - and sat down to eat our breakfast. We exchanged notes on our dreams of the previous night like we do most mornings. I had dreamt about pushing strawberries through a screen window but couldn’t figure out what it meant.

"Maybe it had something to do with us needing more strawberry jam?" She grinned then hesitated. "You know, you looked really bad in my negligee last night but it was a lot of fun."

I smiled and nodded. It had been a lot fun wearing her slinky black sleepwear - I had felt very different and our lovemaking had reflected it.

"I dreamt about you last night." She continued. "It must have been the influence of watching that show yesterday and then goofing around in bed later but I dreamt that you were all dolled up real pretty like and you looked really good. I don’t know what you were doing but it looked like you were going to work and you were very happy."

"Well." I sighed. "At the rate my job search is going right now I’d be almost willing to wear heels and a skirt to land a job."

"It just might come to that, honey, if you don’t find something soon." She smiled as she got up to leave. "I love you. Good luck finding something today."

"I love you too. Have fun on your first day ." I slumped back in my chair and sighed as I heard her find her shoes and the sound of her heels clicking down the pavement in the driveway. I cleaned up the kitchen and went to my computer.

This morning, as I did every morning, I logged on to the various on-line job banks and help wanted sites to check for anything in the area and, as usual, there was little for anyone other than high school students. I printed up the two jobs I was interested in and proceeded to the news sites and sports sites that I like to read through before getting on with my day.

I did my shit, shower and shave for the day and headed out to see about these supposed job openings. I weaved my way through the unfamiliar streets and found the first office and heard the same litany thanking me for my resume and interest and that they would keep it on file if nothing came of this opening. I struggled to thank them and keep the smile on my face. It was extremely disheartening to not be wanted and to know that I could do the job that they wanted me to do.

I made my way to the second job of the day and found that the office was in the business section of the local mall. It was for a receptionist/administrative position. I had never been a secretary before but I was getting desperate and I figured that my previous experience running the college newspaper and unfinished minor in Computer Science would at least help me get some brownie points. I handed in my resumé to a guy in the office who seemed about my age and told him that I had seen the ad online and was wondering if it was still open.

"Aw, jeez." He grimaced as he glanced over my qualifications. "I’m really sorry, man. I can only hire a woman or a visible minority as I got grant money from the government to start this business. Damn, looks like you know your way around a computer. Too bad you’re not in a skirt and heels." He laughed at the last jab.

I smiled politely and made my way out of the office - I had taken a blow to my ego and needed to walk to let the steam off. I meandered aimlessly about the mall more people watching and relaxing than anything. I found my gaze being drawn to the softness of the women’s clothing stores and the various outfits on display there.

I couldn’t get the feel of the negligee out of my mind. I had really enjoyed how it had felt and I think my wife had really enjoyed the difference it had made in our lovemaking. We hadn’t really role played or anything but I definitely felt much more sensitive and more submissive. (She had commented on the last bit when I had gone down on her without being asked.) I was thinking of the tv show from yesterday and how beautiful some of the supposed girls had been - I never would’ve known for most of them unless I had been told by them. I was still feeling kind of cut down from my encounter at the last office when I found myself wishing that I was wearing a skirt and heels - the pastel blue outfit in the window in front of me, actually. I shook my head and walked away. At least I would have a job, I cursed, as I made my way back to my car.

Once I made it back home I slouched down in my cheap Swedish furniture and flicked on the idiot tube to watch some trash tv. I find most of what passes for entertainment these days abhorrent and repugnant but, on the other hand, I just couldn’t not watch. It was strangely compelling to watch out of control teens get their asses whipped by no-nonsense drill sergeants and police officers or to watch sizzling tales of forbidden love or yet another exciting paternity test episode - and, still, I watched.

I grew bored after the third hour of the aforementioned garbage and logged onto my computer in search of still more garbage to fill in the time before I had to get dinner ready for when my wife got home from work. There was nothing new on the job boards though I noticed that the second job I had applied for that day now had a caveat attached to it cautioning would be applicants as to the wherefore of the government grant.

I cursed again and found myself wishing I was in skirts and heels and, more importantly, employed.

I started tooling around the internet and exploring some search engines looking for some of these people who I had seen on television the day before. I was shocked, to say the least.

I discovered a vast community of all sorts of people across an entire spectrum... I found all sorts of websites concerning all things any discriminating TG would want to know. (I began to learn the language, too.) I also found some pornographic sites but got out of them quickly once I found out how much money they wanted and that they kept trying to trap my browser with a never ending chain of opened windows. Grrr...

I found a couple of fiction sites, too and all sorts of stories covering another huge spectrum once again. I was both impressed at how many stories there were and disappointed at how poorly most of them seemed to be written or the truly obscene fantasies that some people seemed to have.

I eventually found a story about an unemployed couple and the chain of events that transformed him into her and the eventual happiness that the two of them eventually found. I was very surprised at hard I had become while reading the story.

I was very puzzled, to say the least, and had all sorts of questions concerning myself and my sexuality. I didn’t consider myself a very closed minded person and certainly didn’t consider myself gay and yet here I was getting off on a story about a man who becomes a woman.

I staggered to the bedroom and sat on the bed staring into the full length mirror that my wife favoured. I didn’t know if the events of the last few weeks and the lack of luck in finding a job had taken it toll on me but I had never before been so overcome with feelings of despair and hopelessness. I was staring at the ceiling feeling profoundly useless when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted an outfit that my wife had rejected for her first day at her new job. She was employed and so would I if I had been wearing a skirt and heels. What the hell, I thought, I’ve got nothing else going for me.

I tore my clothes off and reached for hers - she had left a black A-line knee length skirt and a mauve blouse that was made out of something soft, silky and stretchy. The skirt fit perfectly... my wife had long ago discovered that we were the same size and had been stealing my jeans for a couple of years - either I’m a small man or my wife is a large woman. I suspect the truth was somewhere in the middle. The purple top, while a little tight, felt very nice with nice frilly sleeves almost like a doubloon and a string to tie up what should have been my decolletage but, instead, was my hairy chest. I had never felt this sexy before in my entire life... and so hard while feeling so soft.

I stood over to the front of the mirror and had any feelings of sexiness disappear... I was an ugly girl to put it mildly. I felt like a caricature of a drag queen and not very sexy at all. My broad shoulders and short hair highlighted by the rigidness of my cock straining against the fabric of the skirt made me feel very silly. I walked over to my wife’s underwear drawer and grabbed a matching bra and panty set (black silk, of course) and a pair of nude nylons.

I slowly took the clothes off and placed the gently on the bed and stepped into the panties. I felt the softness of the silk ride up against my leg and try and hold my penis in place. I stroked myself a couple of times and managed to fold myself up between my legs.

I struggled mightily with the bra but eventually managed to find the hook and eyelets in place. (They were so much easier to take off someone else then to put on!) I tried to adjust the flesh around my chest to give myself some semblance of cleavage but had little luck. I turned my attention to the nylons and knew that all the time of watching my wife get changed and ready were now about to pay off.

I loved watching her get dressed and found myself thinking of her as I rolled the light fabric up my legs and the control top over my waist. I looked at my crotch and was pleased, oddly, to note that my rigid cock was now just a mere bump between my legs.

I grabbed the clothes that I had gently taken off earlier and slipped them back on and felt, once again, sexy and soft. I looked back in the mirror and, while I didn’t look anything close to a supermodel, my look had improved somewhat. I was still missing something.

I went back to my wife’s dresser and grabbed a handful of nylons. I rolled several of them up and improvised a crude set of breasts. I noticed her makeup on top of the dresser and figured, why not?

I tried my best to apply the lipstick and pucker my lips but it just didn’t seem half as good as my wife could. I had a crooked red circle where my lips were supposed to be. I brushed some blush on my cheeks and some eye shadow and mascara about my eyes. I felt like a clown with all the make-up on my face and a quick look in the mirror verified that feeling. Practice, practice, practice, I thought. (Why would I think something like that?)

I may have looked like a clown with the make-up askew on my face but, damn, I felt sexy. I loved the way the nylons felt on my legs and how the skirt seemed to flow to my waist and give my love handles the appearance of curvy hips. I enjoyed the tight feeling of the bra against my chest and how the blouse caressed my skin.

I knew I could look in the mirror and see a clown laughing back at me, or I could glance down at my legs and see the hair straining through the nylons. I may not have looked like a million bucks or a Miss Universe but I sure as hell felt it.

I had never experienced these feelings before and was still trying to wrestle with them - how could something like this feel so good and so bad? I guess it was my Catholic heritage that gave me some measure of shame to most things but I knew it was also the cultural breeding that I had participated in after countless hockey games in steamy locker rooms or over a beer with the buds at the peeler bar. I was a man and had voiced my pride in this fact many times over and yet here I was all dolled up and loving it.

I came to the conclusion that these were thoughts I could wrestle with in time - I was just going to enjoy the moment and go where it took me. I noticed a pair of April’s shoes in the corner... they were an older strappy pair and I’m pretty sure she would never be caught dead wearing them with this outfit but I wanted the full meal deal, so to speak.

I managed to squeeze into the shoes with a little bit of elbow grease and while they barely fit and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to walk very far in them they certainly did what I wanted them to do for the moment and that was to complete the feminine image I was creating in my mind.

I spread out in the bed and just enjoyed the moment. I stroked my hardened manhood through the skirt, nylons and panties. I could feel my breathing increase and I swear I sounded just like a woman did when she was getting wetter. I was really enjoying this when my world turned upside down once again.

"Hello?" I heard my wife’s inquisitive voice from the bedroom doorway.

Oh my fucking God, I thought, I am a dead man. "Hello...." I managed to squeak out, almost like a woman’s voice I thought.

"What are we up to this afternoon?" She was smirking. Why was she smirking? She should be upset and hurt... she should hurl me onto the street in these clothes and never want to talk to me ever again. What was going on? "I got off a little early today and thought I’d come home and surprise you and, well, it looks like you’ve managed to arranged a little surprise for me!"

"Uh... yeah." I shrugged - I wanted the bed to swallow me up. "Looks that way, eh?" I tried to laugh but coughed more than anything.

She sat down on the bed next to me and began to caress my leg. It felt wondrous through the nylons. "I see you found my make-up, too. Looks like you need a little work." She smiled and kissed me while one of her hands drifted down to grab onto what was supposed to be a breast. We began to kiss more passionately and her groping of me became more aggressive and fervent.

I was overwhelmed by all the new sensations and feelings I was experiencing. My wife was rubbing my penis with her hand through MY skirt and MY nylons and MY panty. It was surreal.

"Now." She purred. "You are going to be a good little slut and eat me out. I hope you don’t mind office crotch because I’ve been sitting all day."

"No, no." I stammered. I was just thankful that she wasn’t angry and upset with me. I spread her legs after she wiggled out of her clothes and split her moist pussy open. I began to lick and munch on my wife and felt her run her hands through my hair and tug on the bra straps at my shoulder. I started to probe and penetrate her vagina with my tongue, something I was normally loathe to do. I was rewarded with a moan.

"Yes." She breathed as she began to buck her hips and fuck my face.

I replied by licking more earnestly and intently. My face was covered with pussy juice after a few minutes of this... I wondered if this is what lesbian sex was like. I knew she was cumming like crazy and was very close to orgasm... I have always prided myself on being able to make my partner orgasm.

"Stop!" She barely managed to moan. "I want to fuck you - roll over and take you nylons off." She had that devilish look in her eye that I loved - she raised an eyebrow when she saw the panties but gestured for them to come off as well.

I almost came when she grabbed my cock. She grabbed tighter than she’s ever grabbed it before - April is usually very passive in bed. She pushed me up against the headboard and straddled my rigidness and we both moaned as I slipped into her awaiting pussy. We rocked and gyrated in a slow steady rhythm in a way in which we never had before... it was the same but different.

I nibbled and sucked on the breasts that were in my face and ran my hands through her long hair. We were beginning to jerk more suddenly now and I knew that we were both coming close to orgasm. Our breathing was quick and loud and were both moaning like two very hot women. (I was loving it!)

In an instant space and time stood still as her back arched and my hips jumped. We came simultaneously - a first for us in almost three years of love making and two years of marriage. A first for me, actually, in all my twenty-five years and different lovers in high-school and college.

I could feel myself shooting load after seeming load into her slowly contracting pussy. It felt like the longest orgasm I had ever yet experienced and it seemed to me like hers was going on for some time, too.

We fell into each other’s arms, side by side, gasping, sweating and panting. We were gazing into each other’s eyes very lovingly.

"Wow." We both seemed to sigh.


* * *

"So..." My wife ran her hands along the top of what was supposed to be my bosom. "How did this all happen?"

I relayed the events of the day and how I had been feeling when I got home and how I felt after I had begun to transform myself. I couldn’t explain it exactly but I tried. She seemed to understand.

"You like this, then?" She asked coyly.

I nodded hesitantly still a little unsure of what had happened that day.

"Good, because I think I might get to like this lesbian thing." She laughed. "Let’s go get a shower - we stink of sex!"

I climbed into the shower with her and let the hot steam envelope me. I loved nothing more than a hot shower - it always helped me clear my mind and focus my thoughts.

I watched my wife lather up her body and rinse off the suds. I could feel the stirring of my manhood watching her and I felt relieved that I wasn’t gay. I was still confused, though. I like women and I had enjoyed wearing women’s clothing. What did that make me? I ran my head under the showerhead and let the water sink in hoping for a new thought but none were coming. The only thing I could say was that I had really enjoyed the events of the last twenty-four hours and I wanted to explore that more.

I leaned against my wife, kissed her neck and enjoyed the way her heated skin felt amidst the hot water and steam. "I love you." I murmured.

"I love you, too." She whispered into my ear. We began to kiss again and this time she got to her knees and began to give me head. It was the perfect sorbet to cleanse my mental palate. I loved it when she did this to me in the shower. I came after a few moments and we held each other in the steam again.

"Here." She said as she handed me one of her pink lady razors. "I want you to shave every hair off your body. I want you to experience how that feels and I want to experience how you feel like that. I think it will be most delectable." She smiled as she stepped out of the shower. "I’ll wait for you in the bedroom."

"Okay." I gulped and smiled wanly. Well, I had decided I wanted to explore this more so I got to work. It was a lot harder than I had imagined it to be. I was a lot hairier than I thought, too, in looking at the hair that was beginning to clog up the drain.

I had read a story on-line just a short while before about how a man was asked to do this same thing and given some sort of cream where all the hair managed to fall out after fifteen minutes and a rinse. I found myself wishing for that magic cream because, damn, this sure was taking longer than fifteen minutes and was quite a bit more demanding, in terms of my agility, than I ever imagined.

I shaved behind my knees and as far up my legs as I could go. I trimmed my pubic region down to a nice little triangle and found that the blade was getting dull so I had to search for a new razor... once re-supplied I began to hack at my chest in much the same way the first explorers had hacked through the jungles of South America - or so it felt - only I didn’t have a machete... just a cheap, pink, plastic razor.

I finally finished my chest, arms and pits and touched up my face when I began to immerse myself in all the old sensations that now seemed remarkably new. I was really enjoying the feeling of rubbing my legs together and rubbing my hands about my chest - even the warm water striking my now nubile skin seemed different.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel about my like a woman would - about my chest to cover myself with a sense of propriety and modesty. My wife smirked when I walked into the bedroom and started when I had sat the bed next to her and was surprised at how rough the sheets and comforter were.

"Ouch" I squealed. "That’s rough!"

"You’ll get used to it honey." She smiled at me and began to apply moisturizer to my legs and chest. "You need this or you’ll get razor burn and that is something you do not want to get used to."

The moisturizer felt very nice on my raw skin - very soothing. I was enjoying the feeling of her soft hands milking the creamy liquid into my skin and was moaning in appreciation.

"So..." She started. "Now that you’ve had some idea of some of things that a woman needs to do just to look presentable much less pretty do you really think that you would’ve been hired had you been wearing just a skirt and heels?"

"No." I admitted. "But if I were a pretty and presentable woman I’m sure that I’d have had a job today. I just know it... I know I looked like a clown earlier but at least it felt good and maybe nothing is happening out there in the real world but perhaps we could pretend a little here in our bedroom?"

"Yes." She sighed. "We could pretend here in our bedroom but, sooner or later, the real world is going to catch up with us and you looking like a clown here isn’t going to do anything to pay the bills."

"I’m sorry." I said. "I won’t do this again, then." I thought she didn’t want me to waste time fooling around when I could be out there looking for work.

"No, silly." She slapped my leg. "You can work on becoming pretty and presentable - I’m sure that, with a little help and know how in the right places, you’d look better than a lot of other girls out there looking for work!"

Whoa, I thought, this was moving fast. I had gone from an unemployed twenty-five year old man looking for a career to a young professional career woman in less than six hours. I was feeling conflicted again... yes, I wanted to explore these feelings and experiences but I had assumed that I would be exploring them in the relative safety and security of our bedroom as opposed to parading myself for all the world to see - a guy in a skirt in heels. I said as much to my wife as I laid my head on her shoulder.

"It’s okay." She cooed. "Trust me and you’ll be the office hottie in no time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to head out for a little while and pick some things up. Can you make us a light dinner for when I get back?"

"No prob." I nodded and pecked her on the cheek. "See you later."


* * *

While my wife was away I had gotten changed. I just put on one her/mine jeans and a simple cropped T - I had the same bra and panty set as before and was loving how even something as rough and dreary as denim was a new and engaging experience.

I got dinner ready and had a couple of glasses of wine while I browsed about the internet looking at many of the same sites I had visited that afternoon but now I had a decidedly different point of view. I started making mental notes of things I liked and disliked in the pictures and stories of the different girls I visited. I was still amazed at how pretty so many of the girls were able to be and also disappointed at how manly some people seemed to be - they probably felt incredible, though, just like me.

My wife came home with two arms full of shopping bags from all sorts of stores some of which I had never heard of before. She shooed me away from the door and made her way upstairs to stow her new acquisitions before coming back down to join me for dinner.

We had a quiet dinner fraught with anticipation. I think we both wanted to race upstairs and see what she had been buying for the last couple of hours. I had a pretty good hunch that most of the new things were for me.

We exchanged small talk about the mall and then she got all excited talking about her new job. She got to work as an executive assistant to the sales VP on the West Coast for her company. She was quite thrilled. It sounded pretty cool, too. It looked like she’d get to go on a few business trips - I was jealous - I loved to travel and we loved to travel together.

We cleared our plates and made our way back upstairs. I was shocked at what laid on the bed before me. I didn’t want to ask how much she had spent because I knew that, at even half that, we couldn’t afford it. I guess thank heaven for credit.

There were a couple of pairs of shoes, several skirts, a few blouses and a couple of matching bra and panty sets. There was also an auburn wig and what looked like breast implants but knew, from my on-line research, to be breast forms. I was stunned... she really wanted me to do this.

"Wow." I gasped.

"I know it’s a lot, sweetheart." She began. "But I know it’ll be worth it if you get a job... even if you don’t get a job like this at least we can have a whole lot of new fun in the bedroom. You’ve said that you’ve never felt like this before - well, neither have I. I am really enjoying this side of you and the feelings you are arousing in me during sex. I want it to continue and I know that you’ll be able to pull this off if you just trust me."

"Okay." I shrugged. "It’s worth a try and I know that I’m going to enjoy it."

And so it began... we spent the rest of the night going over things about how to conduct oneself in a feminine manner. We talked about make-up and she demonstrated a couple of times the best way for me to apply it. I tried and tried - it took me a few attempts but I was finally able to make my face look somewhat feminine and certainly a whole lot better than it had that afternoon.

I had initially taken the breast forms and inserted them into my bra was but was taken aback when my wife pointed out that they were supposed to be glued on. They were those all natural breast forms I had read about on-line... you glue them on and they can stay on for weeks. I gulped and began to get nervous at the thought of the semi-permanence of my impending situation but was again soothed by the gentle caress of my wife as she held the silicone forms to my chest and applied the adhesive in the prescribed manner.

A few minutes later I stood up and was amazed at how lifelike my new breasts felt. They bounced and jiggled when I moved. I put the new bra on and stared at my newfound cleavage - it looked like I had a wonderful pair of 36 C cups - not quite as big as my wife but big enough to turn me or any other guy on, I was sure. I was giving myself a hard on just looking.

"I’ve got just the thing to take care of that." April whispered into my ear as she stroked me a few times... she reached into the pile on the bed and grabbed a pair of what seemed like flesh colour elastic panties. "It’s called a gaffe and it will keep you in place. Try it on."

I took the garment and ran it up my legs and squeezed myself into and looked at the mirror. I was amazed at how feminine my formerly masculine body now seemed. I had curves and clean lines where formerly I had had none. My wife placed the wig on my head and carefully fit it into place with bobby pins and some well placed squirts of hairspray. I loved how the hair felt brushing against my naked shoulder.

"Now, to complete the picture." She gestured at one of the outfits on the bed. It was a simple black skirt with a small slit up the side and a tight sleeveless red blouse that was sure to highlight my newfound bosom. "Throw these on and meet me downstairs." She kissed me on the way out being careful not to smudge my lipstick.

I borrowed another pair of nylons from my wife’s dresser - this time of the black variety - and almost had an orgasm when I rolled the soft material up my now smooth and hairless legs. It was, to say the least, a world of difference.

I stepped into the new skirt and pulled it up to my waist and ran my hands over my hips and now smooth crotch. I was in heaven. I dropped the blouse over my head, wriggled the material over my breasts and looked in the mirror.

I still wasn’t exactly a super-model but I looked a damn sight better than what I had managed to do on my own this afternoon. I modeled a few poses for myself in the mirror before strapping on a pair a simple black heels with a little ankle strap and an open toe.

I gave myself a final look in the mirror and thought for sure I looked like any other normal twenty-five year old woman next door. I walked downstairs to my waiting wife and enjoyed the sensation of walking in heels, skirt and nylon - feeling the cool brush of air as I made my way from step to step.

April was waiting for me at the bottom and had a big smile on her face. "You look magnificent." She said. "And very, very hot."

I blushed and gave her a peck on the cheeks. "Thank-you."

"Now. We have a lot of work to do." She said very professionally. "We need to cover all aspects of what it is to be a woman. You need to work on your walking, talking, sitting, swaying, gesturing - in essence you need to create a new you."

"I see." I said noncommittally. "That seems like a lot of work."

"I agree." She responded. "But it’ll be worth it! Think of all the fun we’ll have in the bedroom!" She was starting to sound giddy and I began to wonder if something new had awoken in her as well.


* * *

We spent the remaining evenings that week working on my dress and deportment. We worked on my voice and the way I spoke. She got after me if I swung my arms too wide like a man would or if I walked with my feet splayed.

We both took to wearing silky negligees to bed and our lovemaking became more and more erotic. I became more passive and found myself spending more and more time between her legs. We were really taking to the lesbian lover thing in a big way.

Our morning routines were pretty much the same... I would try and sneak a few more minutes sleep here and there but was always up to see her out the door. I loved opening the door and feeling the cool morning breeze brush up against my bare chest covered only by spaghetti straps and silk.

I would begin my day, after she left, by choosing an outfit and then getting a shower and inspecting my body for any unwanted hair growth. After the shower I would lather moisturizer over myself and do my make-up and style my wig. I know I was getting better and better as the days went on.

I would always have dinner ready for April when she got home from work and we would sit and talk about how our days had gone. She usually had something exciting to say because she was still new to her job and everything was a novelty. I noticed our conversations were becoming increasingly girly and I wondered if that’s what were doing - having girl talk sessions.

It was Thursday night when something different happened.

"Oh shit." April said as she came through the door and slapped her forehead. "I forgot to pick up the wine." We usually had a nice wine with our dinner. It aided conversation. "I really wanted to get a shower before dinner - would you mind running and getting one?"

"Okay," I said. "Let me run upstairs and get changed and then I’ll be on my way. I was wearing an ankle length sarong and a tight white cropped T. I had my hair piled on my head and my make-up was very casual. I thought I looked rather pretty but I wasn’t quite ready to head out to grab a bottle of wine dressed this way.

"Oh, pshaw!" She said. "You don’t need to get changed. You look fine - no one will know... trust me!" She kissed me on the cheek and continued. "Don’t forget, get the Zinfandel from the Okanogan - you know the stuff I really like. I’ll make it worth your while when you get back."

Gulp. I grabbed the keys and my wallet and then looked over at my wife who was smiling at me.

"Take my purse... it’ll look more authentic than you walking in with a man’s wallet." She smirked and walked upstairs to get a shower.

I headed out to the car and was once again rewarded by the feeling of breeze on my smooth legs under the skirt. I dropped myself into the car much like I had seen my wife do countless times before.

It was all very routine and normal. I was driving to the liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine - except this time I was wearing a push up bra under my t-shirt and I had my breasts sticking out very pertly while my skirt breezed around the strappy flats I was wearing.

I go to the store and took a deep breath before I went in. I got inside and looked at the selection in the cooler. Shit. They didn’t have any zinfandel from the Okanogan - just a sign saying that you had to ask for it at the counter. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I cursed my luck and the tastes of my wife and I. Well, here goes nothing.

"Excuse me." I tried to phrase and voice my question exactly as I had practiced with my wife over the last four nights. The clerk looked at me and I think I saw him staring at my breasts. The nerve! "Could I get a one litre bottle of the Okanogan Zinfandel?"

"Certainly, Miss." He smiled at me and disappeared into the back to get one.

Well, I thought, this is one hurdle I’ve jumped - picking up a bottle of wine at the liqour store - a must in any girl’s life.

I paid for my purchase and again felt the clerk eye me up and down. I was kind of flattered, actually. It made me feel very feminine and sexy. I smiled at him as best I could and was on my way.

I got back and found April waiting for me at the table with an empty glass in her hand. We filled up our glasses and had dinner.

While over dinner I told April about how I felt at the liquor store and what had happened with the clerk. She just smiled and said that it was good practice. She also told me that she had a present for me for later that night.

We finished our dinner and did the dishes and settled down to watch some tv. My mind kept wandering and wondering what her present for me could be.

We went to bed and both got changed into matching black nighties. She told me to put on one of her garters and attach some thigh-highs.

I discovered my new present when were lying in bed in a sixty-nine position. I felt it, rather. She had bought a twelve inch rubber dildo and was now trying to massage my rectum with the tip of it. I froze at first.

"Relax." She cooed. "This won’t hurt. I promise. I’ve got lots of KY."

I tried to relax myself and just get lost in the moment. She flipped me on my back and was lying on top of me grinding my groin with her hips and easing the dildo further into me. The feeling of penetration was very different than anything I had experienced before. It was at once both captivating and freeing.

We began to move our hips together rhythmically and I wasn’t sure how deep the dildo was in but was pretty sure that it was in further than anything had ever been before. I was also pretty sure that I was beginning to like the experience.

We were kissing and caressing as if we were possessed. I began to buck my hips as I received more of the pseudo-cock. Once again my world seemed to stop as I came. I had just had an orgasm without any direct stimulation of my penis and it felt wonderful.

I slowed down and took in the scene of the two of us - pretty ladies - lying with each other, panting and gasping. We were kissing and cuddling now and I was enjoying the feel of her nylons rubbing against my nylons.

"Girlfriend." She said to me. "You are awesome."

"Girlfriend?" I asked quizzically. "Is that what I am to you now?"

"Oh." She moaned, still shaking from the after effects. "You are that and so much more. We need to find a name for you so I can scream it out!"

I had been thinking about a name earlier that day and had decided on one but hadn’t thought that we would be discussing this just yet. I had decided that I was a Katherine. I wanted to take my wife’s maiden name as well. I would be Katherine Star and told her as such.

"I want you to choose a middle name for me." I whispered into her ear.

She bit her lip and looked up at the ceiling searchingly. I started to massage her clit. After a few minutes I saw a light bulb go off. "I’ve got it! You’ll be Katherine Star."

"That sounds nice." I nuzzled her neck and started kissing her lightly. We began to make love again this time with me penetrating her with my penis and it was sweet and gentle.


* * *

The next day my wife had slipped out of bed without waking me. I didn’t get up until I heard the doorbell ringing close to ten. I grasped the side of the bed where my wife was missing to make sure she hadn’t slept in and was late for work. I shot my eyes through the alarm clock and cursed. Who was here? I still had my nylons and black nightie. My wig was a mess and I still had make up on.

The doorbell rang again - this time with an impatient knock. Shit. I grabbed a light silky robe that my wife liked to wear some mornings and raced downstairs struggling to hide my bouncing cleavage.

I opened the door cautiously and found a young man holding a bouquet of roses. He was also looking at me most curiously.

"Good morning, Ma’am." He said politely. "I have a delivery for Katherine Star."

"Yes." I stammered. "That’s me."

"Great. If you could just sign here, please." He handed me a clipboard. "Would you like me to put these anywhere?" I gestured at the dining room table as I attempted to forge my first signature as Katherine.

He placed the bouquet gently on the table. "One dozen pretty roses for a pretty lady." He smiled and went on his way. I took the card from the bunch and read it. "Katherine, I love you. Meet me for lunch today at The Primerose around twelve thirty - wear something nice and sexy."

Well, I thought, here we go again.

I let my gaze linger on the red roses and white baby’s breath. I loved my very much but I had not sent her flowers in a couple of years - a fact of which I felt terribly guilty now as she had made me feel very, very special with this little act.

I ate a quick breakfast and read the news of the day on-line before heading up stairs to perform my morning ablutions which now took considerably longer. After I got out of the shower I shaved my face closely in the mirror with very hot water and sealed the pores with cold water.

I looked through the closet and found a nice black skirt and the same purple top that I had worn when my wife had discovered me - this time, though, I actually had some cleavage to tie up with the strings. I borrowed a necklace and bracelet. I also wore an ultra-sheer pair of black pantyhose.

I sat down to do my make-up and style my hair. I noticed that the wig was getting kind of worn from all the styling and practicing I had been doing this week. I did my make-up in a very classy yet casual manner. I slipped on a nice pair of heels and gave myself a final look-over. I looked good enough to eat.


* * *

I made my way through the busy restaurant to where I saw my wife sitting - right near a big window. I was finding myself becoming more confident and more sure of myself with each passing moment as Katherine. My interaction with the hostess was as uneventful as her telling me where I could find the other half of my party.

I sat down with my wife. "Thank-you so much for the roses." I said while looking at her fondly. "They made me feel very special."

"Anything for you sweetie." She said.

We settled into pleasant small talk and people watching. We ate our fine meal and as her lunch break was drawing to a close she handed me a small business card. "I want you to stop by there on your way home - it’s a salon that will take good care of you - they know you’re coming and they know about you."

My face flushed and my jaw dropped. I struggled for words. "You mean you told someone about me? Doing this?" I tried to swallow.

"Relax, honey." She said as she stroked my hand. "There are lots of people like you out there and this salon has more than a few of them as clients. You’ll be in good hands. Trust me!" She smiled.

I nodded my agreement and we made our way out of the restaurant - I felt the supposed discrete glances of more than a couple of men and wondered if I had always been that obvious. I was just about to step out of the restaurant when my wife grabbed me.

"Sweetheart." She smiled. "Will you join me in the girl’s room? We should fix our make-up." She must have seen the look of terror on my face because she gently guided me by the arm through the swinging door into the septic atmosphere of the women’s washroom.

I was in no man’s land - literally. I sort of halted at the threshold and was half dragged half stumbled - I wondered if the sight of the stalls and tiles was having a psychological impact on my bladder because, all of a sudden, I had to go and said as much to my wife.

I struggled with sitting on a toilet in heels. It was a slightly different experience than that what I was used to. I did my business and came out of the stall to find my wife fixing her make-up. She handed me a tube of lipstick that I carefully re-applied.

We left the restaurant but our good-bye was restricted to a hug - April didn’t think it would be appropriate for two women to kiss in public. "Enjoy yourself at the salon." She called.

"I will." I smiled at her and walked to my car wondering what the afternoon would bring.


* * *

End of Part I

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