Like Father, Like Son

by Elizabeth Ann

 

It was with a mixture exhilaration and apprehension that James stood at the bathroom mirror carefully applying eyeliner, having already smoothed on a light coating of foundation. He was wearing white bikini panties, a matching bra, nude pantyhose and a knee-length black skirt, all borrowed from his mother's closet and bureau. The exhilaration was from the prospect of being able to spend the evening as a girl, something he did whenever possible. The apprehension was from the always present worry over being caught.

James was nearly certain that his parents did not suspect that he used their time away as his time to play. By the time he was 15 his parents let him stay home alone on the many nights that they traveled on business. They had a neighbor stop by to make sure everything was OK but since Mrs. Potter was predictable – she always came over at 6:30 – James never worried about her finding out about his hobby. His real concern was that, as he became more adventurous in dressing, his mother might discover that her things were not put back in the way that she had left them, that he might put a run in a particularly nice pair of stockings or that she would notice that her cosmetics did not last as long as they once did.

Both James' mother, Susan, and father, Charles, were attorneys. They met just out of law school while working the same law office. Now they had a small but thriving private practice that demanded they travel at least four or five times each month. Rarely did they go to the same place together but often they were gone over the same few days. It was when this happened that James planned his evenings as Jane, the girl he liked to become.

This night James had decided to model his look on one of the interns that worked in his parents' office. In addition to the skirt, he had selected a simple white blouse and black pumps. He had already laid out a gold chain necklace, gold bracelets and a pair of small hoop earrings. He often thought how lucky he was to live in a time when a boy could have both ears pierced and have shoulder length hair and not get beat up. His parents could afford to send him to a local private school and he fit right in with the disaffected upper-class kids who went to Westwood. The only time his sometimes androgynous appearance caused him any problem was when he was out in the town and some jock from the local public school decided to give him a hard time. But the townies also knew that his parents were lawyers and they did not want to risk a lawsuit.

James was feeling particularly soft and feminine that night after taking a long hot bath and shaving his still sparse leg hair. His beard was also quite light and required shaving only every few days. Once done with the razor his face was as smooth a girl's with no hint of shadow. His taste in clothes had always run a little older than his sixteen years. Perhaps it was the stylish dresses and suits that his mother always wore. Or maybe it was from admiring the young assistants who worked in his parents' office. Of course he knew a lot had to do with the fact that he had no sisters from whom to borrow so he had always made do with what he found in his mother's closet. So while he sometimes wished he could dress in the trendier fashions of the girls at school, he also knew he had a fashion sense that was years ahead of other "girls" his age. So as he was doing his makeup he was thinking about Jennifer, the just-out-of-college girl who had recently started clerking for his mother. It was her makeup and one of her outfits that he was trying to evoke. He had noted that Jennifer's makeup was always perfect and maybe even a little heavy for daytime wear. But her smart outfits and easy manner made her just the kind of girl James hoped to emulate.

James was lost in his reverie when his stomach seemed to drop to the floor as he heard the front door open and close. It couldn't be Mrs. Potter, she had already been by. It could only be one of his parents. But his mother was in Los Angeles until Monday and his father was not due back until tomorrow, Saturday, night. They both had come home early before but had always called first to let him know. Who could it be? More importantly, how could he hide? James knew that in order to get to his room he would have to go down the hall. It was only a short distance but in their modern house the upstairs area was exposed to the downstairs. Could he possibly make it? Quickly he gathered up the makeup knowing that he would have to carefully replace it on his mother's vanity later. He then peeked out the door and saw that the coast appeared to be clear; no one was in the downstairs entry way and the hall to his room seemed empty. He was somewhat grateful that he was wearing stockings and that he could get to his room without making any noise. Sucking in his breath, James made a break for his room, only about eight steps away. At step seven he stopped in his tracks; his father was standing by his bed holding the blouse he had intended to wear. On hearing the rattle of the makeup in James' hand, Charles looked up to see his now terrified son standing frozen in the doorway.

"Uh…James…I'm home early."

"Yes, Dad. I see. You usually call," said James with obvious terror.

"I know. I guess I just forgot. It was a very stressful meeting. I'm sorry to catch you like this. I guess we have some things to talk about."

"Oh Dad! I'm so sorry. I know you think I'm totally a freak! I'm really embarrassed. Can I just go change? I promise we'll talk as soon as I change." James' words were so fast and full of anxiety that his father just smiled.

"No James. I don't want you to change. Just stay here in your room and wait until I get back. I have some thinking to do. You just wait right here." His father spoke calmly enough that some of the tension eased out of James. This enabled him get over to the bed and sit down as Charles left the room. James could hear the door of his parents' room quietly close.

Oh no, thought James. He's really mad. James knew that his father almost never raised his voice when he got angry. In fact, his father was known in the courtroom for his ability to control his emotions and be a calm, quiet presence in the middle of volatile situations; the more tense the situation, the softer Charles' voice would become. And when he told James to "wait right here" his voice was barely above a whisper. That meant he was really putting the lid on something.

Thinking about his father angrily stewing in the other room made James feel at little exposed sitting there with just a bra and skirt. As nice as he felt in the skirt and lingerie, he really wanted to change into his boy-clothes and just pretend the whole thing had never happened. But his father had told him not to change and he thought it best not to disobey. So the only thing to do was to put on the blouse. After buttoning the blouse James slipped on the simple black pumps that were sitting beside the bed. Putting on he shoes was almost a reflex action, done to complete the outfit. James laughed at himself for doing that, thinking that it was both silly and probably the last time he would be dressed as a girl.

By the time an hour had passed James was starting to get really worried. Why hadn't his father come out of his bedroom? At one point he had heard the shower running but that had been forty-five minutes ago. His father must be doing some serious thinking. James was nervous as a cat, pacing his bedroom and alternately sitting on his bed or at his desk. He had tried to read but that was impossible. Every few minutes he would get up and peek out the door to see if his father was coming. Just as he was about to go and see if his father was alright, he heard his parents' bedroom door click open. At the sound of the door opening James ran to his bed, unconsciously smoothed his skirt and sat down. His heart was pounding as he waited for his father to appear.

When Charles finally appeared, James' heart almost stopped. His father walked in James' room wearing a tailored gray suit…a woman's suit. In fact the suit his father was wearing was one that James had seen in his mother's closet and had always wanted to wear. But it looked so expensive that he didn't dare try it on. He suspected that it must be brand new since he had not yet seen his mother wear it. His father paused as James, wide-eyed, tried to take it all in. His father looked, well, fabulous. The suit was a fine wool gabardine with a skirt that came just to the knee and a fitted jacket with four buttons. Under the jacket Charles wore an off-white silk blouse accessorized with a double strand of pearls. The suit was complimented by sheer stockings that had just a touch of gray and round-toed two-inch black pumps with a block heel. His fathers dark brown hair was now shoulder length and perfectly styled with a beautiful wave that broke across his forehead. And James could hardly believe how lovely his father's face looked. The makeup was impeccable, as if his father had just come from a department store makeup counter.

At his son's stunned reaction, Charles broke into a smile and said, "Well, what do you think?" The voice that James heard was definitely his father's but softer, higher, feminine.

Without thinking James responded in the feminine voice he had developed for Jane. "I think look, um, lovely…Dad," James replied.

"Oh James I'm sorry if I scared you earlier. I guess there are a several things we need to talk about. First, when I'm dressed like this I guess it doesn't really fit for you to call me 'Dad.' Why don't you call me Trisha. Or better Aunt Trish. Trisha is the name I use when I dress like this."

"Ok, Aunt Trish," James said haltingly. What is going on here? he thought. My father, the big-time lawyer is telling me to call him Aunt Trish. For a moment he forgot that he also was dressed in a skirt and blouse until 'Aunt Trish' said, "And I guess that James might not be appropriate for you, dressed as you are. What shall I call you?"

"I kinda like the name Jane."

"Well then Jane, let's go downstairs to the living room so we can talk. But first, I think you should go finish putting on your makeup and fix your hair." With a knowing wink Trisha said, "I'm sure you know how. I'll go down and fix us some tea." With that Trisha got up and headed for the door leaving a bewildered James – Jane – sitting on the bed. From the top of the stairs Trisha called out, "Hurry along sweetheart, we have a lot to talk about."

Jane stood up, gathered up the makeup from the bed and headed back to the bathroom to finish up. A million thoughts were racing through his head. Does dad do this a lot? Does mom know? Why have I never seen him dress like this? With trembling hands Jane finished applying his makeup. With foundation and eyeliner complete, she gently brushed on a light pink eye shadow over his upper lid and complimented it with a more dusty rose shade on his lower lid. Then a light blush and a careful application of brownish-red matte lipstick to finish his face. Hair was last and since Jane had long ago become adept at changing his long hair into a feminine style with skillful use of a curling iron and hairspray, she was done quickly. About 15 minutes after 'Aunt Trish' had gone downstairs, Jane was putting on his earrings and heading downstairs.

Still lightheaded from all of the excitement and nervousness, Jane held tightly to the railing as she descended to the living room. Hearing him come down the stairs, Trisha called from the kitchen, "Just sit on the sofa, honey, and I'll be right in." Moments later Trisha came into the living room with a tray on which sat a teapot, two china cups, a sugar bowl and a small pitcher of milk which she carefully set it on the coffee table. Jane was amazed at how graceful and feminine his father was. Smoothing his skirt as she sat on the edge of the couch, Trisha crossed his ankles and let out a soft sigh. Trisha took Jane's hands in his and for the first time Jane noticed that Trisha had nicely tapered nails and was wearing a soft pink nail polish. Surely Dad's hands didn't look like that when he got home, thought Jane. Trisha paused and said, "Now James…I'm mean Jane…I'm sorry your new name will take some getting used to…I want you to know from the start that I'm not at all angry with you. Surprised, yes, but not angry. As you can see, I too like to dress as a woman." With a laugh that was almost a giggle she continued, "I knew I would have to tell you someday. I just didn't imagine it would be like this. In a way it's easier because I know that you understand."

"I think I understand. I mean I knew that I wasn't the only boy who liked to wear girls' clothes. But I had no idea that my father did too. How long have you been dressing like a woman, Aunt Trish?" Jane was amazed at how comfortable he was becoming. Aunt Trish seemed so easy to talk to, easier to talk to than Dad!

"Well, dear, I've been dressing since I was a little younger than you. I used to 'borrow' your Aunt Judith's clothes. She and I were about the same size when I was your age. Eventually she found out and helped me get some of my own things and learn how to be a girl. But your grandparents never suspected. I couldn't imagine having this conversation with them!"

"Does mom know?" That was the question that had been on Jane's mind almost from the first time he saw his father dressed as a woman. His mother must suspect something since it was obvious that both he and his father were wearing her clothes.

"Yes, of course she knows. She's known about my little…hobby…since before we were married. At first she didn't know what to make of it. But since she already knew that I was both a good man and a good lawyer, she quickly accepted that it was part of who I am. I know that I am very lucky to have your mother since not many wives would be as understanding."

"So Mom doesn't mind you wearing her clothes?"

Smiling, Trisha said, "Of course she minds. I'm about a full size bigger than your mother and would probably damage her clothes."

"But what about that outfit you've got on?" Almost as soon as he asked the question, Jane knew the answer. The skirt and jacket and blouse – and presumably the shoes and stockings and whatever else his father was wearing underneath – must belong to him.

"Why this is my outfit, Jane," replied Trisha confirming Jane's assumptions. "I have a closet full of clothes. Oh, I can wear a few things of your mother's and she can wear some of my stuff. We buy the same size panties and pantyhose, for instance. But we each have mostly separate wardrobes. Mine just happens to include both men's and women's clothes."

Suddenly it dawned on Jane why not everything he tried on from his mother's closet and drawers fit him, why some of the shoes were just right and some were a little small, and why some of the bras were a 36B and others a 34B. It must be because the clothes that didn't fit actually were his mother's while all the things that did fit were his dad's. All this time he had been borrowing his father's clothes and didn't even know it!

"So what you're saying is that all the pretty dresses and skirts and other things I've been wearing for the last year or so have been yours?"

"Yes. A few times I suspected that someone was moving my stuff around. But I just thought it was your mother. Once or twice the thought crossed my mind that it might have been you. But if I confronted you on it, I would have had to come clean myself. I guess I wasn't ready to do that then. Now at least we can talk about it openly."

"Oh Aunt Trish, I'm sorry if I hurt anything. I tried so hard to put everything back as I found it. I've even washed some things and hung them back up trying to make sure that I put things back in just the right place. I almost had a heart attack the two times I put runs in pantyhose and couldn't return them to the drawer."

"Don't worry about a thing, Jane. You never did any harm to anything. Those blouses you laundered looked better after you washed them than before. And your mother and I have so many pairs of pantyhose that neither of us would notice if a couple pair went missing. But I guess now we'll be buying hosiery for three!"

"So all of this is going to be OK with you?"

"Well don't you think it would be a bit hypocritical if I objected," Aunt Trish replied. "I think that now we'll have to start getting you some clothes of your own, a wardrobe for a young woman.."

Jane could hardly control himself at the thought of having his very own girl's clothes. "Oh Dad…Trish…Aunt Trish…whoever…thank you so much! You don't know how long I've been afraid of what would happen if you ever found out. Now I feel like the happiest boy, er, girl, in the world." With that they both started laughing. But the laughter was more that of an aunt and her niece and not of a father and son.

"Oh Aunt Trish, please excuse me for a moment I really need to go pee. I'm just so excited!"

Trish smiled and said, "Of course dear, I understand. When you get back we can talk about shopping. I sure you have some ideas of what you'd like to get." With that Jane practically leapt off the couch. Only his three-inch pumps prevented him from sprinting up the stairs.

Trish began to gather up teacups and put everything back on the tray. Deciding that he and Jane might head out for a meal, he picked up the tray and took it back into the kitchen. Thus neither Jane upstairs in the bathroom nor Trish in the kitchen heard the front door open and close.

"Hello! Is anyone home?" called Susan. "Where is everyone?"

On hearing his wife's voice, Trisha turned, took a deep breath and headed for the living room. I guess Jane and I have some more explaining to do, he thought. In his most upbeat and nonchalant voice Trisha called out "Hi honey! Welcome home, " as he crossed the room to greet his wife. Smiling as she turned from the coat rack Susan said "Hello sweetheart. It's so good to be back." Upon seeing her husband, however, Susan's smile was quickly replaced by a look of surprise.

"Charles! What are you doing dressed like that? James is supposed to be here. He'll see you. I thought we agreed that you wouldn't be Trisha while he was home until we told him together."

Gently taking his wife's hands in his, Trisha replied, "I know that we agreed to wait and tell James together. But circumstances have changed. Believe me, I'm as surprised to be greeting you like this as you are to see me."

"What are you talking about? What's changed? Where is James?" The anxiety in Susan's voice was unmistakable.

"James is here," said Trisha smiling, "sort of."

"What do you mean 'sort of?' Please tell me what's going on."

"Perhaps it will be best to just show you." Then, turning his head, Trisha called upstairs, "Jane! Please come downstairs. Your mother is home."

"Who is Jane? I don't understand what's going on." With that Susan looked up to see Jane, one hand on the railing, carefully coming down the stairs. Just as the words "who is that?" passed her lips, Susan gasped. "James! What are you doing dressed like that? What's been going on here since I've been away?"

"Hi Mom," said Jane softly, eyes demurely down, "nice to see you too."

"Oh sweetheart, I'm happy to see you too. But please, will someone tell me why both of the men in my house are standing here looking far prettier than I do right now?"

At that the tension seemed to break. Both Trisha and Jane could not help laughing and eventually Susan joined in. "It's so much to take in. James, I know all about your father. But what's going on with you? Did your father have anything to do with this?"

"No, Mom. Don't blame Dad. Can we just go sit in the living room so we can talk about it?"

"Of course, dear. It's just so much to take in. Let's go sit down," Susan said, as she headed for the couch. Jane followed right behind and sat next to her. Trisha asked Susan if she'd like a glass of wine and without waiting for a reply, walked into the kitchen.

"I suppose you know that your father likes to be called Trisha when he's dressed like that," said Susan. "And I heard him call you Jane. Is that your girl's name."

"Yes Mom. But you don't have to use it if you don't want to."

With a smile Susan replied, "Well, dear, I guess I don't have much choice. It seems that the two of you have accepted the situation. I suppose I will too. But could you please kind of go back a bit for me. Tell me how all of this came about. Have I been so out of touch that I didn't know that your father knew about you and your dressing?"

"No, we just found out about each other today. I was getting dressed up when Dad came home unexpectedly and caught me. Then he told me to wait in my room. An hour later he showed up looking like that. I think we were both a little confused and surprised."

"I can imagine!"

"So we've just been sitting and talking and then you came home. I've been telling Aunt Trish – that's what Dad asked me to call him – that I've been dressing up for a couple years. But I always thought that I was secretly wearing your things. But he told me that mostly I've been wearing his."

"Yes, I think you are probably closer to his size than mine."

"Anyway," continued Jane somewhat shyly, "he told me that he thinks I should get my own girl clothes."

"So the two of you have all this worked out, eh? I must admit that you do look very nice. You obviously have been doing this for a while. I would have thought that your father had helped you out. Your makeup and hair look so nice and your outfit is very well put-together."

Blushing, Jane said, "Thanks Mom. I always try to look as nice as possible."

"Well, sweetheart, you do a very good job. And I think Trisha is right. You do need to get your own clothes. We can't have you sneaking around our closets now that we know all about you."

At that Jane seemed to light up. "Oh thank you Mom! When Dad first caught me I thought this was the worst day of my life. Now is seems like one of the best."

Susan reached out and embraced her son. "Oh James, Jane, you know your father and I love you very much. There is nothing you could do that would make us think you were anything less than wonderful." Just then Trisha came back from the kitchen with a wine glass in one hand and a teacup in the other.

"I guess things are OK with you two. I hope I can share in some of this love," said Trisha as he set down the glass and cup.

"Of course dear," said Susan as she reached up and took Trisha's hand in hers, her arm still around Jane. "Jane and I have had a lovely talk. I guess I'll have some adjusting to do…we all will. I think everything will be better around here. We'll have to get used to having three women around the house!"

"Well then, ladies," said Trisha with a grin, "Why don't we go in the kitchen and fix some dinner. While we're eating we can talk about tomorrow. I think we need to plan a shopping trip for Jane." With that Susan and Jane rose from the couch and the three of them headed to the kitchen, already chatting about where to go and what to buy.

 

The next day, Saturday, James woke up wondering if the previous night had all been a dream. A quick glance at the chair in the corner confirmed the wonderful reality of it all; there on a chair was a bra and pantyhose with a pair of black pumps nearby on the floor. After dinner and for two hours afterward Jane, Susan and Trisha had planned a full day of shopping. They'd spent part of the evening going through some catalogs and magazines to determine, generally, what kind of outfits and accessories Jane liked and would need. Jane also showed Trisha and Susan his favorite outfits from their closets and drawers. The night ended with a written list of items that included everything a girl Jane's age and with his fashion sense would need. Since Jane had nothing that was really his own, the list was long. It included underthings like panties, bras and slips; hosiery such as pantyhose, tights, and girls' socks; dresses, skirts, blouses and tops; and several pairs of shoes including low-heeled casuals, dressier high-heels and a pair of girls' sneakers. There was also time set aside for a trip to the Clinique counter for a color analysis and makeover. They had decided on Clinique since that was the preferred makeup of both Susan and Trisha and had become by default the choice of Jane as well. Jane would also need necklaces, earrings, and other jewelry plus barrettes, scrunchies and clips for his hair. It would certainly be a long day of shopping for sure, a day made even longer by their decision to go to a shopping center almost 90 minutes away. Susan and Trisha explained to Jane that it was where they went when Trisha went shopping for himself because the it was far enough away that no one would recognize Trisha even if he was "read" as a crossdresser. It was also decided that it would be Charles who went rather than Trisha. Both Susan and Charles agreed that it would be more comfortable for Jane to appear to be a young woman shopping with her parents. That way Charles could play the part of the put-upon husband and father whose job it was to pay the bill and carry the bags while mother and daughter conspired to run him into debt.

As James was re-playing last night's events, his mother knocked softly on the door then opened it. "Time to get up dear. It's going to be a special day. Come downstairs for some breakfast and then shower. Then we'll get you ready for your first day out as Jane!" Susan gave James a little wink as she closed the door. James quickly got out of bed, threw on his bathrobe (hopefully to be replaced today by a more feminine one) and went downstairs.

When James entered the kitchen Charles looked up from his paper and said, "Good morning! How did you sleep last night?"

Having spent more time with Aunt Trish than with "Dad" in the last 24 hours, it took James a moment to adjust to the man sitting at the table. Charles looked just like any other suburban husband and father on his day off. Dressed in casual chinos and a polo shirt with a pair of comfortable loafers, no one would have guessed that he also looked very nice in a skirt suit and heels. "I slept really well, Dad. Once I calmed down anyway. I was pretty excited by all that went on last night."

"I imagine you were! I hope today is exciting for you as well. I have to confess that I wish I could have had a shopping spree like you when I was your age. I guess that must be pretty strange coming from your 'old man.'"

"Well, it must have been pretty strange for you to find your son in a skirt and blouse. I'm still not sure I really believe all this is going on."

Just then Susan entered saying, "Well, both of you better believe it. We have a lot to do today so hurry up and eat so we can get you ready." Susan paused while James went to get a box of cereal before continuing, "That is, if you still want to go through with this."

James quickly replied, "I'm kinda nervous but I think I'm up to it."

With a lighthearted tone Charles added, "And I want our son to stop borrowing my clothes. So I guess we're committed."

James hastily downed a bowl of Frosted Flakes and then hurried to the bathroom to shower. His mother had told him to come straight to the master bedroom when he'd finished showering so he slipped on the bra and panties his father loaned him, cinched his robe and headed down the hall.

"Come on in dear and tell me if you like what we've picked out for you today. Your father and I talked last and thought that we'd suggest an outfit for you. You don't have to wear it but we thought we'd put something together that would be comfortable, and would not drawn unwanted or unnecessary attention to you. We know the kinds of cruising-for-boys outfits girls your age wear to the mall and thought that would be the exact wrong way to go on your first outing. Also, you'll be trying on a lot of clothes today so we picked out something that would be easy to get in and out of quickly. Anyway, come here and see." Susan motioned James over to the bed where the clothes were laid out.

Neatly displayed on the bed was a black knit pullover dress with a gentle princess neckline and short sleeves. Next to the dress was a pair semi-sheer nude pantyhose and a very simple pair of black loafers with about one-inch heel..

"What do you think?" asked Susan.

"Oh Mom, it's perfect. In fact, I guess I can tell you now that I've worn that dress before. And with black tights," replied James, a little sheepishly, "but the shoes are new to me."

"Your father and I thought you'd like this dress based on the things you showed us last night." With a little conspiratorial whisper Susan added, "And it's one of Trisha's favorites too." At that James suppressed a little giggle. "The dress slips on and off very easily as do the shoes. And the stockings are pretty neutral so we can get a good idea of how things will look when you try them on. One of the things you'll discover is that women have to plan their outfits for shopping with as much thought as they would for a party. You'll wear yourself out if you have to fiddle with a lot of zippers and button if you're going to do real shopping."

Just then Charles came into the room. "She's absolutely right. The first few times I ventured out shopping as Trisha I had a hell of a time getting into and out of the clothes I wore. A skirt with a long back zipper; a blouse with tiny buttons. Now let's hurry up so we can get on the road." Charles said that with a little clap of the hands to which James responded sarcastically, "Boy, you'd never know Trisha existed what with General Patton here." Charles laughed and said, "Alright, I get it. But we do have a drive James. So let's find Jane and get going."

"Ok Charles," said Susan, "go downstairs and wait. Maybe there's a boxing match or a stockcar race on TV to keep you busy for a while."

"Women," sighed Charles, as he turned and left.

"Now Jane, since you like the clothes, I want you to take them to your room and then put on your makeup. Nothing very heavy; about half as intense as last night. Remember, we're going to the mall. Once your face is done, come check with me before your get dressed."

"Ok, Mom. Can help myself to the stuff on your vanity?"

"Yes, take what you need, sweetheart. But hurry," she said with a wink, "your father won't wait all day."

Jane quickly gathered up all that he would need; foundation, blush, lipstick and eye makeup and headed to the bathroom. With and efficiency that comes only from practice Jane smoothed on just enough foundation to even out his skin tone. He followed with a pinkish-neutral eye shadow, a soft brown eyeliner and a touch of mascara on his naturally long lashes. A whisk of light pink blush and a careful application of lipstick and he was done. His long hair, still damp from the shower, was moussed and blow-dried and his bangs curled. As an afterthought Jane applied a coat of quick-drying nail enamel to each finger. This, however, added another ten minutes to his preparation time prompting a knock on the bathroom door.

"James…Jane…are you done yet?"

"Just about, Mom. I did my nails too. That's what took so long. Just come on in an check me out." Susan opened the bathroom door and gasped just a little when she saw Jane.

"Jane, I must say, you look wonderful. It's clear that you've been practicing. I think you look cuter than you did last night, more like a sixteen or seventeen-year-old than a girl in her twenties."

Jane blushed a little a the compliment. "Thanks, Mom. I don't always try to look like one of your law clerks."

"Well, right now you look just your age and perfect for our shopping trip. Now go get dressed and I'll get you some jewelry. How about a pair of small hoop earrings and my gold locket?"

"That would be great Mom. And could I wear one of your watches, or one of Dad's…I mean one of Trisha's?"

"Of course dear, and I'll get some a bracelet to."

"Mom, I still can't believe how great you and Dad are being about all this. I really love you guys."

"We love you too James. That's why we're doing this. Your father and I know too well that crossdressing isn't something that goes away. We've talked quite a lot about it and think that it's better to help you now than go for you to go through a lot of problems later. We just hope that you'll use good judgment about when and where and how often to dress up. That's something that your father can help you with, if you'll let him."

"I really want him to. After all these years, I've finally found something that we can do together," said James with a grin. "And Dad always thought that I wasn't interested of the things he likes. Now he'll stop asking me to work on the car or learn to play golf!"

"I suppose you're right. But now you have another father-son activity to bring you together. Now hurry up and finish. I'll put your clothes in your room."

"Thanks, Mom…for everything."

"Oh, you're welcome sweetheart," said Susan warmly and with a kiss on James' cheek. "Now just come downstairs when you've dressed."

"OK. I'll be there in just a few minutes," said James as he followed his mother out of the bathroom and headed down the hall and into his room. He sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the pantyhose, rolled up the legs and guided them up his legs. After adjusting the waist, he reached inside to tuck everything up and in, giving him a smooth front. How amazing, he said to himself, as he checked himself in the mirror. Here I am in my room with the door open and Mom and Dad in the house and I'm standing here in panties, a bra, and pantyhose – and Mom has helped with my makeup. Only yesterday I was trying to keep all this a secret and now they're taking me shopping for a girl's wardrobe! At the thought of it he giggled and sighed and was startled at how girlish he sounded. He also thought that he looked pretty girlish…and that that was just fine!

It took only a couple more minutes to slip on the dress and put on earrings, watch, bracelets and necklace. The low-heeled loafers completed the outfit. Jane did a quick twirl and noticed how nicely the dress flared out and how sensuous it felt against his nylons. He must have been lost in his feminine thoughts, looking at himself from every angle in the mirror, because the next thing he knew his father was standing at the door.

"Come on, princess, we have a schedule to keep," said Charles with a grin. "Oh, and here's your purse. I've put everything in it that you'll need except your lipstick. Grab that and come on down."

Jane put his hand on his hip and said with exaggerated teenage angst, "Yes, Daddy." At that they both started to laugh and Charles said, "From sullen son to drama queen daughter. I think things have gotten a lot more interesting around here." Charles extended his hand and for the first time since he was a little boy, father and son walked hand-in-hand…and into a new life.

 

To be continued.

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2004 by Elizabeth Ann. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.