This story is copyright to the author and may not be sold or distributed for profit. The story may be read and copied but may not be changed in any way. This is a work of fiction, the places and situations exist in the author’s imagination alone, and does not depict any character living or dead.

 

Love and Duty               by: Anne Browning

 

PORTLAND OBSERVER

Death Notice.

Leshame Rachel Anne.
August 23 2000.
Died In peace . Loved wife of James
Adored mother of Greg.
Aged 41.

May she rest in peace.

 

Chapter One

As the casket descended into the grave I realized just how alone Greg and I were going to be. Rachel had been the focal point of our small family, the Mother to Greg, and my own very loving wife. We had no extended family, Rachel and I had been only children, and my widowed mother had died two years ago. For Rachel the tragedy had been worse, both her parents killed in an airline accident just last year.

Then just as the pain of loosing out loved ones was fading Grace she had been stricken with a most virulent cancer. One moment my healthy beautiful wife then three days later she was dead. Greg had just managed to return from college before her death; he’d been on a hiking trip. I rushed him from the airport to the hospital, despite the urgency I only succeeded in giving my son only an hour to bid his mother goodbye. It was very difficult to accept this was really happening, that it wasn’t some terrible dream, a nightmare. Any moments Rachel would put her arms about me, say, "wake up darling it’s only a bad dream".

If only it were so. I would give up all, to have her with me again. Rachel had been my wife, lover, and best friend. We’d shared everything, even the secret that had emerged ten years ago

"Oh Dad how could this happen, why was she allowed to die?"

I took my son’s hand in mine, feeling the trembling, watching the tears well from his eyes. Greg had been so close to his mother. She had been a wonderful mother always supportive and loving towards her our child. I handed Greg my white silk handkerchief and he dabbed at the tears coursing from his eyes. A month ago, he’d turned nineteen, his birthday the last celebration we’d all had together.

Even on this cold morning with his eyes all puffy, he looked attractive, he was handsome in a delicate way. Greg was just too pretty for a boy, blonde, blue eyed and slight in figure. Another terrible pain coursed through me, he was so like Rachel, for a fleeting moment, she could have been standing beside me.

"Are you ready James?" Asked Emily Blake, the wife of my closest friend. She had prepared lunch for the funeral party. It was very thoughtful, Greg and I would not have to return immediately to our home and live all it’s memories. All the happy joyous times, that had suddenly come to an end.

Somehow I managed to survive the rest of the day. What happened is still a blur, I was aware of accepting sympathy from what seemed hundreds of people and trying not to breakdown under the terrible loneliness welling up inside. Rachel had been much loved and well known for her work on the major charities in the city. My sense of despair deepened when Greg decided to return immediately to college.

"It’s for another two months Dad, when the exams are complete and I’ll return home."

"I’m sure they’ll give you time off Greg, time for you to grieve." I didn’t want to pressure him to lessen my own loneliness.

"Dad it’s not that, I want something to take my mind off it. I can’t bear returning home yet; it would be too painful. I’d expect her to be there. I still can’t accept she’s dead, I did love her so much."

"I know son." I said taking him in my arms and holding him tightly.

"Why don’t you go away Dad, take a couple of weeks off, fly to the Caribbean?"

"I can’t Greg, I have my patients to think of. Besides the work will take my mind off today. Oh son I loved her so much, but somehow I’ll, we’ll, have to learn to cope without her."

"Dad I can’t leave you like this, I’ll ring the college and stay with you."

"No, Greg I’ll be okay, really. We’ll both have to learn to live without Rachel."

It would not have been right to use Greg to help my own grief, still protesting Greg returned to college and I returned to my practice. The first four weeks were the worst, a nightmare. While working with my patients, my mind was sufficiently distracted from the loss of Rachel. It was at night, in the solitude of our house that the overwhelming loneliness engulfed me. I was too aware of her presence when opening a drawer or cupboard and find the linger of her scent. My memory would play games and at that moment I’d expected to see her in the kitchen or think she would creep up upon, me seize me about the waist and kiss my cheek. Then be forced to accept reality and know those moments had gone never to return.

Greg phoned at least once a day, it was the same as having him there but the calls did help to give some structure and normality to our lives, at least we were not alone. For two weeks I accepted the dinner invitations from my friends, but stopped myself when I faced up to the reality of Rachel’s death. We had shared everything; Rachel had been my assistant when I began my medical practice, only ceasing when she became a mother. It had not been easy in the first years of marriage; she supported me through final years of college and in the first years as I struggled to build up the surgery, and a highly successful practice.

It was a small blessing that we had at least been able to share some of the success. We had been deeply in love, sharing a secret that that never been revealed to Greg. Our love had not diminished even by this. I still remembered the day Rachel returned unexpectedly to our apartment and found me dressed in her nightgown. Not knowing what to do I had fled ashamed to the bathroom, tearing the offending from my body, and washing the damning makeup from my face. By the time I had returned wearing a tee shirt and jeans, the shock on her face turned to understanding. Rachel had listened to a stumbling explanation of my overwhelming need to as a woman.

At first she did not attempt to say she understood. She was shocked; it was so out of character completely different to the impression of the man she’d married. Over the five years she had known me, not for a moment had she suspected this other side of my character existed. The fact I’d hid it from her hurt her deeply. From that moment on she insisted I share it with her. Jasmine, my female persona became a regular member of the household. Rachel quickly researched the transvestite literature, discovering that I was far from unique in my desires.

Jasmine was also lucky; her mentor was slight and more than a degree of feminine attributes. I was smaller than the average male, had a hairless body and no facial hair. An acute embarrassment during my late teens, though for Jasmine, it was a blessing. With Rachel’s help she became a very pretty lady. Her jaw was slightly too firm, and her mouth just too wide for a classical beauty, but with her blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes, Jasmine was quite stunning.

Although Rachel was certain that Jasmine would ‘pass’ anywhere we rarely ventured out in public. Rachel’s charity work had made her a well-known figure in Portland and it was this she thought would be the give away. We had discussed a visiting cousin, but in the end it was just too difficult. Rachel was no prude, and very imaginative. After Jasmine arrived our sexual activity expanded, Rachel loved to dress me in tight corsets, silk stockings, satin chemise and butterfly panties. After Greg’s arrival this continued it was only when he became more mobile, that Jasmine’s presence became more restricted. Rachel managed to give me a reasonable outlet, but neither of us wanted him to be aware of my other persona. It was unfair to burden him with such a secret.

I always wore beautiful sleepwear, Greg through good manners and Rachel’s insistence that my rest must not be disturbed, never entered our bedroom without permission. This allowed me to sleep in a satin nightgown between silk sheets and give Jasmine at least partial outlet each day. My patients would have been surprised too, if they had ever seen my underwear, for when I didn’t have scrub up for an operation beneath my expensive business suit were equally expensive silk panties and a silk camisole.

It was during an overseas trip two years ago that I received my greatest surprise. It was to a medical conference in London and Greg now sixteen was to stay with the Blakes. The conference lasted three days, they were too stay another three days to see the city of London. The first surprise came following the end of the conference. I returned to their room to find Rachel had assembled a complete outfit for Jasmine to wear, as I dressed she said, we were moving to a more discrete hotel, they would be being booking in Jasmine and Rachel Cox, two sisters stopping over for some London nightlife. Everything had been paid in cash and Doctor James Leshame would disappear for the next three days

Tucked away in the exclusive part of Knightsbridge. The Royale was as luxurious as it was discreet. Jasmine had never been so happy as we toured the shops, sipped coffee, and lunched. In the evening we’d change into tour best finery enjoy the theater before finishing at a splendid restaurant. There was no question that Jasmine passed; we were two sisters enjoying spring in London.

On our last night Rachel said she’d prepared something special. She bathed first, and when he returned to the bedroom he found her wearing a black satin corset, and waiting for him to tighten the laces. A similar outfit wait for him in white, the corset uncomfortably tight, silk stocking, silk french cut panties and silk camisole. The same applied to their dresses, satin demurely cut, slim fitting with a slit up the left leg, which a careless movement would expose the stocking top.

Rachel was rather vague about where they were going. Dressed like this Jasmine wanted the theater and was disappointed to find himself in a small but luxurious restaurant only fifty yards from the hotel. The maitre de showed them to a corner table set for three where a quite beautiful woman was already seated.

"This is Simone, Jasmine she will be joining us for the evening." Said Rachel.

Jasmine tried to hide his surprise; he really had no idea this was about to happen. Simone was young and beautiful, red blonde hair and a gamin face. Her dress was dark red silk softly draping her lithe body. Simone had a slight french accent, but explained that she had lived in London most of her life. Rachel carried most of the conversation, discussing the theater we had seen, the shopping while we all drank champagne and ate the delicious food.

There was no doubt Simone was delightful company with her wide knowledge of art and ready smile. It was still early in the evening when the meal finished and Jasmine thought they could go onto a nightclub to finish their last night in London. It was with dismay when Rachel said they had a flight tomorrow and should return to the hotel. Would Simone join them for a drink?

In the room the bed had been drawn down and a large bottle of champagne, the cork removed stood with three glasses on the table, together with a cake with eighteen candles.

"It’s time to celebrate, "said Rachel putting her arms about Jasmine and kissing his lips deeply. "Do you realize darling that it’s your eighteenth birthday."

Suddenly he realized this was the day that Rachel had discovered his secret all those years ago. Rachel took Simone’s hand, lead her to Jasmine. "I hope you like your present darling," she giggled, " and I hope we can share."

It was only then that he understood the purpose of Simone’s presence and Rachel’s last remark the beautiful French girl was to their partner in a menage de trois. Rachel saw his look of confusion mixed with shock and wrapped him tightly in her arms.

"Its’ all right darling, really it is." She reached out her hand towards Simone, drawing her to them. "Isn’t she beautiful. Now let me take this off." She unzipped his dress, letting it form a shimmering silken puddle at his feet. He stood before the two beautiful women clad only in the corselette, stockings, and silk panties, although Simone was very beautiful he felt no arousal, Rachel was the only woman he desired.

"You do not like me Mademoiselle? I am very disappointed you do not approve."

I tried to explain, of my love for Rachel, Simone was very beautiful, but my wife is my only love.

Rachel’s eyes were glistening and she was smiling at my declaration of love. Simone’s lips formed a small moue of disappointment as she reached behind her, unzipped her silk dress, and let it fall at her feet.

"Perhaps Madame prefers this?

Simone was dressed only in a red corsolette and silk stockings, she wore no panties, and instead of a cleft between her legs, there was an erect penis above a hairless testis sac. For a moment I could only stare in disbelief, then despite my astonishment, felt myself swell erect.

"Oui Madame is interested at last?"

My face matched the color of her satin corset, as I tried to hide my condition beneath my hands, I felt quite ashamed of my arousal in front of Rachel. She immediately and sensitively came to my rescue.

"Oh darling, how wonderful you like my present, come don’t be shy, dear Simone deserves a kiss."

With Rachel’s encouragement I took the slender body of Simone in my arms and our lips met. Her tongue reached deep into my mouth, while her hand grasped my straining member through the thin silk. This began a night that I would never forget, where Rachel and I shared the body of the willowy transsexual. At first I didn’t want to have sex with Simone, but Rachel was insistent, her eyes shining with anticipation at what was about to happen. Simone’s rosette was so tight I thought I would die from the pleasure.

Then Rachel joined in; seated before the kneeling Simone she began tonguing her while I coupled anally behind the transsexual. The session lasted until we were all too exhausted to continue. Simone departed quietly, leaving us lying in each other’s arms. Next day on the flight back to Boston, I could not take my eyes off Rachel. Every time she smiled my organ stiffened painfully in the satin panties beneath my gray trousers. I had he felt so much in love, and the memory of that night would remain forever in my mind.

Our lovemaking became even more exciting and intense. From that time Rachel encouraged me to use her bottom, saying she preferred anal intercourse after seeing the effect Simone had upon me, and she wanted to share that excitement. After an initial reluctance the tightness of her canal brought new life into our sex, I just had to catch a glimpse of her panty-clad bottom to achieve an immediate erection.

We talked later of the effect my discovery of Simone’s true sex had on me. I could never find a satisfactory answer. As far as I was aware I was heterosexual, never before had I had any sexual interest in the male sex. It was Simone’s beauty as a transsexual woman that enthralled me. We had been going to Paris on a further conference later this year, and Rachel had wanted to have another birthday, but that would never happen.

I went to bed early that night, but sleep would not come, I was overwhelmed by those memories, and solace would not come. The darkness only increased the desire for Rachel and I could fight my feelings no longer, I wanted Rachel’s body to hold, to empty my body of the loneliness that manifested itself in lust. I wanted to wrap myself in music and at least pretend my love was sharing it with me. Greg was due tomorrow, this would he the last opportunity to be alone for several weeks. Every night over the last month I had fought the need afraid to sully her memory but I could fight it no longer. A quick shower and the soft caress of the body powder, then the well remembered scent they’d both shared sent a shaft of pain through my mind.

It took only a few minutes to assemble my outfit, a silk satin gown, silk stockings, and a front lacing corselette. My memory of Rachel hands tugging the lace was so real as the familiar constriction of the corset about my body set the blood pounding. I crushed the soft silk satin gown to my face; James savored its softness before letting it flow in a silken stream down my body.

I heard the whisper of satin against the corset, coursing over my silk stockings and swirling about my ankles. We had bought them together in London, Janet Reger’s own shop, as Jasmine I had protested at the expense, but Rachel had said, "you deserve them darling you work so hard." The salesgirl had looked on indulgently, obviously we were not the first gay women to have shopped there. The ivory satin with brown lace embroidery, was about my body, it was a most beautiful garment.

Another set lay on the bed, a shorter one; barely knee length rose satin with white lace. A matching negligee slid silkily into place with a sibilant whisper.

I sat before the dressing table, I never felt comfortable unless completely Jasmine, first a foundation, just a light dusting of powder and a blusher to highlight my cheekbones. I debated on an eyeliner, then went ahead, just a sheen of eye shadow, next a rose colored lipstick. I fluffed my blonde hair; it was worn long for a male, long enough to draw the comment, that I required a haircut.

It would have surprised my colleagues that this hair was styled at least once a week to maintain it exactly this length. Rachel’s hair stylist completed it for me, never once had she questioned why I wanted it cut in such a manner. It was an urchin cut, but brushed in a masculine style and despite my delicate features it did not make me noticeably feminine.

Now I brushed and shaped it the way Rachel had taught me until it framed my face. Almost magically I watched in the mirror as my face became elfin and my eyes became larger, in this form I vaguely resembled a blonde version of the late Audrey Hepburn. With a pair of satin mules slipped onto my feet I walked into the lounge.

It was wonderful to be in the clothing I adored, it helped my loneliness and to compensate for the loss of Rachel. My hips swiveled under the action of the high heels and the swish of the silk stockings against the satin nightdress set the blood pounding in my groin. I poured a glass of white wine, and inserted "La Boheme" into the CD player, the music pouring over me as the cool liquid slipped smoothly down my throat. The long mirror on the opposite wall reflected back a slim blonde, I did look beautiful. Rachel had called me her sexy love doll, for a moment the pain was so agonizing as to be palpable.

My arm brushed my hip, coursing the satin across my erection, the sensation helped eased painful memories, and it was so pleasurable I sighed. My fingers danced across the engorged flesh, so slippery beneath the satin, I wanted to feel her body, hold her against me, and enter her tightness. My realization that she would never return sent the tears coursing through the makeup. Life had to continue without her, still weeping I tried to still the loneliness, my fingers fluttered over the rampart flesh, as I lightly caressed and stroked myself. The pent-up emotion flooded to the fore it had been too long without release and within minutes a surge the fluids exploded from my body, darkening the ivory satin, and leaving him gasping and empty.

I collapsed exhausted into the chair, the music, wine and relaxation left me exhausted and I drifted into an undisturbed sleep on the settee.

 

 

Chapter two

It was the soft click of the key in the lock that brought me awake, groggily I struggled to my feet, momentarily catching my legs in the satin skirts of the negligee. Standing in the doorway was Greg, panic rioted through my body, and here I was dressed as Jasmine in front of Greg. There was no hope of escaping to my bedroom; it was too late for that.

Greg stood looking at me, his mouth hanging open in confusion, "Dad is that you?

I nodded dumbly, "Greg let me explain." I tried to go on, but I had let him down in the hour of his greatest need. I couldn’t look at him, not wanting to see the condemnation in his eyes. "I’m sorry son."

Greg wrapped his arms about me. "No Dad, there’s no need to be sorry. Please sit down and have another drink, I’ll be back in ten minutes then we can talk."

As a doctor I was renowned for my coolness in circumstances that have caused others absolute panic, it’s a very necessary trait in the operating theater, but in those last few minutes any calmness completely deserted me. Letting Greg see me like this was shattering, the confusion in my son’s eyes at me dressed in a nightgown. I had expected hostility and contempt, but instead I received sympathy. Those ten minutes took forever to pass, then there was someone was in the room with me.

One look at the lovely creature and it was my turn to be totally confused. "Greg?"

"Yes Daddy, it’s me."

She was absolutely gorgeous, with that lightness of step and luminous sheen of skin that only the young have. She looked so like her mother, the reddish blonde hair, the lipstick, blusher and highlighter gave dewiness to her creamy skin. She was wearing a sorter version of the nightgown and negligee I was wearing. The ivory colored satin swirling about a pair of perfect honey colored knees.

"Daddy don’t I get a hug, don’t you like your new daughter?"

With my mouth still sagging in surprise and my head shaking in disbelief I swept her into my arms. The lithe slim body through the satin was totally feminine; the scent of her hair and her citrus perfume completed the picture of her total girlhood. "I don’t believe it, Greg you’re so beautiful, but how?"

"Well Mother helped me."

I released her, now totally bewildered, "your Mother knew, why didn’t she tell me?"

Before he answered Greg handed him a rose colored nightgown and negligee. "I picked these up from your bed, I thought you might like a fresh one."

I could feel my face flush red, in all the furor of Greg’s return I’d forgotten the tell tale stain on the front of my gown. "I’m sorry Greg , I didn’t mean you to see that." My apology came in a shameful stutter.

"Dad don’t worry please, it is quite natural, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve used my fingers."

I couldn’t stop a tear start from my from my eye at my son’s reaction, I’m not sure how I would have felt in a similar situation. My father dressed in a nightgown showing masturbation stains but I’m certain I would not have managed to be as sensitive and caring as my son was. As I slid the gown over my head he saw the satin corset and stockings.

"Wow Dad, that’s really sexy, I love the lace about the bottom. It must feel great against the top of your legs when you move. " I saw Greg’s eyes look at the erection that stood at right angles to my body, he showed no embarrassment. Instead Greg’s eyes met mine, his tongue slipping greedily over his lips as he formed an unspoken "Wow!"

I slid the gown over my head, embarrassed by the display between my legs. I was no sooner wrapped in the satin, than Greg moved into my arms, holding me tightly and pressing his body into mine.

"Oh Daddy, I love you so much."

It was obviously more than spiritual, I would feel his erection pressing against mine. Together we moved towards the settee, his hands in mine.

"I don’t understand Greg how did your mother help you?"

"I had been sneaking into her bedroom and wearing her underwear, and one day she came home early and caught me. When she walked though the door I was ready to die, but to my surprise she was shocked but very sympathetic. That was nearly a year ago, she knew from you Daddy, that it couldn’t be cured. So she decided to teach me all the ways to femininity."

I looked at the perfectly made up face and the beautiful liquid eyes. "You are gorgeous darling, but why did she never tell me?"

"She wanted to Daddy, when she first discovered me. I begged her not to tell I didn’t want you to know Daddy, I felt too ashamed. Then Mama told me about Jasmine but it was only two months before she died. We were going to surprise you on my eighteenth birthday, but suddenly she was gone, so it never became an issue until tonight. This weekend I had intended to find some way of telling you. Now I don’t have to"

"I squeezed his hand tightly, feeling moisture in my eye. " Oh darling I wish we could have shared her love."

Greg put his arms about me drawing me close, I could feel his heart beating through the thin satin of our gowns. "That would have been wonderful, the three of us being able to share this. Still Daddy we have one another and I love you so much."

His mouth sought mine; her lips were soft, inviting, and her breath young and sweet. Greg’s tongue pushed its way passionately forward seeking mine. One hand found my lap, then sought and grasped my rampart member through the slinky satin. The soft touch of his fingers sent an involuntary shudder of pleasure through my whole body. Greg’s lips pressed more tightly, his tongue deep into my mouth, soft fingers demanding their due in my groin. I wanted so desperately to let him continue, to no longer feel alone to let my body find solace in sexual pleasure. It was not right we had to stop.

"No darling you mustn’t"

"Please Daddy I want you to love me."

"I do my darling, so very very much."

"No Daddy I want you to make love to me."

Greg took my hand and pressed it between his thighs, beneath the satin I could feel his pulsing, his maleness surprisingly large. His eyes pleaded with me as shook my head.

"Darling I can’t, you’re my son it would be so wrong to make love to you."

His eyes continued their pleading, then he flung his arms about he again, his cheek was hot on mine. I felt wetness and drew back to find tears filling his eyes. He looked so vulnerable, I had to help him leaning forward I kissed him again.

"Oh Daddy please help me." With his eyes not leaving mine, once again my right hand

was guided to his erection, while his took mine.

"Please Daddy there can’t be any harm in this. Mom used to help me."

Maybe it was the shock because I was lost by the sweet feelings through the silk. My mind tried to stop me, but all I could feel were his fingers drawing the most wonderful feelings. I tried to tell myself that Greg was right it was not morally wrong and we would both end up doing this separately, and Rachel had participated in this complicity, but deep down I knew my conscience was right, there was no acceptable excuse. Unable to control myself, my hand and fingers mirrored his stroking and caressing His lips lingered softly on mine, our tongues entwined as the errant fingers drew the ultimate pleasure from our bodies.

The aftermath was not anticlimactic, I lay clasping his body to mine our lips still touching, Greg giggled his sweet young breath flowing over my face, one of his fingers traced my eyebrows, a lover’s touch. All the sudden, I started this wasn’t Rachel my lover, but Greg my son. At that moment he sensed by my thoughts.

"No Daddy don’t draw away, I love you and want to hold you. It is all right really, please accept me."

We lay together for nearly an hour, before Greg went to the bathroom, returning with a damp wash cloth and two new gowns. He washed me tenderly, helped draw the satin gown over my head before leading me to the bed. He kissed me gently on the lips before settling into my arms and the sleep of the innocent.

 

 

Chapter Three

While Greg slept quietly beside me, still dressed in his lovely silken nightwear, I lay awake for some time pondering the events, which had just occurred.

"This will never do. I told myself. "It’s one thing to have a son who is a transvestite like myself, but it’s quite another to be actively leading him into homosexuality."

I was sure that I was not a true homosexual as my desires were always for women. Last night ‘s escapade resulted from the temptation of a beautiful boy who for all intentions appeared to be a beautiful girl. As most transvestites do, I had searched my psyche for many years for traces of attraction to other men but apart from Simone, whom I had thought to be a woman there, were none.

I knew that last night’s attraction between my son and I was a technically homosexual but its basis was an attraction between two women rather than men. I had never nor would be tempted by Greg in the form of a boy. Last night he had looked so like Rachel, and coupled with our emotional loss, the act was a mutual and spontaneous reaction to our needs of the moment. Greg’s seeking of a mother-substitute, and my need for a wife-surrogate.

It had taken all my will power to avoid the act of sex with my son. The temptation had been very real, not helped by my son’s advances. His approach to sex was more liberal than mine, and if I had succumbed to his invitation last night, guilt would have racked me this morning. The withstanding of a similar invitation was likely to prove impossible, and the temptation must be reduced on both sides otherwise a collision of needs which will undoubtedly occur again may have a less moral ending

I have never viewed homosexuality as anything other than a different form of love; it’s not a disease, a sin, or anything more than another kind of sexual attraction from that of the heterosexual. Nevertheless, being a homosexual in these benighted times is most often a difficult way of life, more difficult even than being a transvestite. I owed it to Greg to provide an environment giving him the chance to decide. It was not my role to thrust him into a sexual lifestyle.

Even with my guidance and under-standing, Greg’s life as a transvestite will have enough pitfalls in it. I would not like any act of mine, sexual or otherwise, to encourage him to become a homosexual. In spite of being a transvestite, there is woman who would understand his occasional need for feminine attire. Then Greg would have a good chance of finding the kind of joyous love and understanding, which existed between his mother and me through our twenty years of marriage. Meanwhile I knew that something must be done to give us sufficient sexual outlet to prevent actual sexual contact between us.

I had racked my brain for a solution to our dilemma for the remainder of the night. Only falling into an exhausted asleep early in the morning. When the alarm went off at five in the next morning, I sat on the side of the bed in my satin nightie, and shook the cobwebs out of my mind. I was scheduled for early meeting at 9-30 am at the hospital to go over plans for a difficult operation with my colleagues.

As I was carefully removing the makeup of the night before, the answer to the problem suddenly came in a blaze of inspiration. It was such a simple solution that I wondered why it had eluded me for so many hours. Greg needed the advice of a woman who understood the problem of being a transvestite. Not just any woman, mind you, but a very special kind, one who would fit in with Greg’s and my chosen lifestyle. I drew a plain white satin camisole over my head and matching panties up my hips before the charcoal-gray business suit I usually wore to the hospital. My mind was awhirl with the possible ways I could introduce such a woman into our lives.

One way, of course, was marriage. However, it would be unwise to make an unreasoned decision, simply to put temptation behind me. In addition, so shortly after my wife’s tragic death, I was not ready for marriage, no matter how understanding she might prove to be. Finding such a woman would be difficult, but not impossible. The search would require considerable effort, discretion, and money. However, to find the right woman would re well worth the trouble it would entail.

‘When I came down to the kitchen, I discovered that Greg had dress while I showered and was fixing breakfast for me. She was wearing a satin negligee over his nightgown. It was one of Rachel’s favorites, she held out his arms for a hug and a kiss, exactly how she had each morning. With the touch of her lips and her body pressing into mine, life seemed to have returned to what it was three months before.

"Greg dear, it was very thoughtful of you to go to all this trouble," I said, looking at the toast and scrambled eggs and the steaming cup of coffee she had prepared.

"It seems the least I could do," he said smiling. "Mom always fixed you breakfast for you on days when you had early surgery."

That was true, since her death I had been making do with a hastily prepared cup of instant coffee before going off to try to lose my loneliness in the work at the hospital.

"I appreciate it, Greg," I said, " but you can’t replace your mother. Darling you can’t become her, you cannot become my wife as much as both of us may want it."

"I’m sorry about last night, Daddy. I just couldn’t help myself, I’ll try and behave myself next time." Tears were forming in her eyes. "But I love you so much, was last night a kind of ... accident?"

I couldn’t stand her sorrow. "It was in a way Greg, I know you love me darling." I took her trembling body in my arms. "Please Greg don’t cry, last night was so special for me, they way you accepted me and finding out we are so a like. However finding an outlet for our love will be difficult. I can’t hide what I’m feeling now, I know you can feel me against you just as I can feel you. But my darling it would wrong to succumb sexually to what we feel for each other. "

Greg ‘s tears dried immediately and she kissed me. She really looked so beautiful. "I know Daddy, but I just help it. I promise you I will try."

"I know you are darling." I looked at the kitchen clock , "I must leave now I’ll be back for lunch and we’ll talk about it then. I was thinking our problem over during the shower and I’m sure there is a solution that will suit our needs."

Greg replied. "I have a lot of things to think over. I’m really too excited, seeing we’ve found our mutual needs to think of anything else."

"I’ll be home for lunch, then we can discuss it."

"Project lady?" Greg inquired impishly.

"That’s it exactly," I chuckled.

The morning’s work in surgery went along smoothly, in spite of the fact that I had very little sleep the previous night. The strategy meeting planned the operation for next Tuesday, to save a patient with a cancerous tumor in the temporal lobe. It would be difficult but a chance to give years of life to her by closing a hemorrhaging lesion near the mid brain.

The grand rounds of the neuro-surgery wards was satisfying, every patient was doing well. After that I had a few moments in my office to think over what my approach to the problem at hand - how to find someone to advise Greg. I knew there were many support groups that were commendable and immensely helpful to both transvestite and their families. However I was looking for something more, for someone who we could empathize with.

There were few risks, the possibility of blackmail was unlikely, even though I considered myself immune for if my transvestitism became known to an unscrupulous person I would simply refuse to pay and would refer any blackmail attempts to the police. Public exposure didn’t frighten me, my position in the world was secure - neurosurgeons of my standing are very hard to come by and unlikely to suffer dismissal by their hospitals or to lose patients due to a minor social deviation like transvestitism. My reputation was strong enough to withstand whatever notoriety I might briefly be exposed to.

I was not looking for a woman with a strong dominant streak; there are a number who might want to treat us as slaves. I’m aware there are transvestites with masochistic tendencies, who would welcome such an arrangement, but I’m not one of them. It’s just not my cup of tea and I didn’t want to introduce more difficulties into Greg’ life or unpleasantness if we caught in this net.

My objections, are simple enough, I do not believe any human being should be subservient to another. The practice of transvestitism is not degrading and should not be made part of a more complex masochistic way of life. Greg should not grow up to associate his cross-dressing with punishment or subjugation of any kind. It should be a thing of joy and wonder to him, just as it is to me. So advertising did offer problems with no easy solutions.

I was beginning to despair; I really wanted to involve as few outsiders as possible. Rachel, Greg, and I had been very close, to involve a stranger an outsider went completely against the culture we shared. Suddenly I knew what had been in the back of my mind, Harriet Masterman.

A fragment of our conversations from two or three years ago came to me, and I was soon scurrying for my archived case notes. Yes, there it was, Miss Harriet Masterman, a patient, I had managed to save from death by a piece of deft surgery. During her rehabilitation she had at first been quite hostile and it became very aware that she did not like males, a result I realized of something that happened in the past. I knew she had wished a woman to perform the operation, but there was none with my skills. For some reason her attitude changed and we became the best of friends.

I never learned the cause of her hostility, but she did tell me of her nephew. He was living with her as a girl. He had been changed by enforced transvestitism. I knew that at the time I had been intrigued and embarrassed I had wanted to know more but frightened she would she would uncover the reason for my interest.

The young man or girl as he was now, had been the main cause of the stress that had resulted in her illness. He was now seventeen, she had adopted him six years ago following his parent’s death. It was never quite clear as to the reason for his gender change. However it seemed to be connected in some way to drug taking by his parents. Using her influence with an understanding Judge she had managed to have him made her ward with the proviso he lived full time in her household as a girl.

Miss Masterman, a wealthy heiress did everything to provide the right climate, she had hired a ladies’ maid for the lad, and provided an extensive wardrobe of feminine clothing. It had been a radical approach and the boy had fought his enforced feminism but at last was beginning to accept it. I would have loved to learn more about him, but she was very perceptive, and too many questions may have revealed my own transvestite nature

Would it be right to contact her? After all there was a question of medical ethics, a physician must avoid undue personal contact with his patients outside the office. However three years had passed and Harriet Masterman was no longer my patient, she had recovered completely and was now under the watchful eye of her own family physician, whose main task was to keep her blood pressure within normal parameters so another cerebral accident would not take place.

Harriet Masterman insisted I had saved her life and had made me promise to contact her if there was anything she could do to help me in the future. Over the past years, I had received Christmas cards, to which of course I had replied. Miss Masterman had sent wreath to the funeral, apologizing for her absence, she’d been in Europe at the time. On her note Harriet Masterman had implied I should contact after a grieving period.

This appeared to be an appropriate time. I was asking for nothing more than information, so no ethical questions were involved From my notes I could see the boy or whatever gender he’d chosen, would be almost twenty. This appeared to be at least a good point to start, I was certain she would be able to advise us or at the least provide some other contact. I picked up the telephone to call her, when I realized that it was no longer just my own decision. Greg and I were partners in this venture and I must discuss it with him before making such a drastic step to involve someone else in our lives.

The moment I thought of Greg, the blood swirled into my groin swelling my tender organ within the satin panties. The image, of the graceful creature I had kissed this morning. I wanted the taste of those soft lips, the caress of her hair against my cheek, and the touch of her swollen member beneath the satin nightdress. I knew it was so wrong and tried to repress these sentiments, to conjure the image of the boy in jeans and check shirt once more, but I couldn’t.

I drove home with two opposing emotions buzzing like angry bees in my mind, one a desperate longing to hold her, -Greg-my mind had slipped into another plane and was having great difficulty in recognizing the lovely girl as a boy any longer. In part I wanted life to return to normal, to change back to remove the where we were before last night, but I knew that was just assuaging my conscience, society was not ready to accept the love we shared.

Our home above the Columbia River is very secure. Rachel had wanted to feel safe, and because of the long hours I spent at the hospital a high alarmed security fence surrounds the house and gardens. The only entrances are via the electrically controlled gates for car and pedestrian access. It proved a boon for my transvestite side, because all visitors can be viewed by the concealed cameras above the gate and access given or not.

The moment I entered I knew all my good resolutions were in trouble, Greg looked absolutely gorgeous. His hair, supplemented by a fall was drawn back into a ballerina ponytail.

"Hi Doctor James, I’d like to introduce my self, my name is Grace, and despite what was said this morning I’m the new girl in your life." There was a sense of challenge in his manner.

"Grace?"

"Yes Daddy, I’ve always loved the name and its’ what Mom called me."

"Have I a choice, you sound so certain."

"Oh Daddy, of course there is, but I just want you to know. I thought carefully about what you said this morning, I know I can never replace Mom but I don’t want to lose what we discovered last night."

It was impossible to think of her as Greg, so I accepted Grace and the change of gender. She put her arms about me and kissed me. Her lips were as soft as rose petals, all my good resolutions vanished, and swept away by the passion generated between us.

"Wow, " she said, "is that a yes."

"No darling, we have to discuss our relationship, we must be sensible."

A shadow of disappointment clouded her face; "darn I hoped to overwhelm you with my beauty. What do you think?" She said pirouetting slowly in front of me. She was a picture of youthful loveliness; a pair of slimly cut gray silk slacks fitting tightly about her slender hips. Over it was a peach colored silk knit top with a cowl neckline, which gave the impression of breasts. A pair of medium heeled, kid strap sandals were worn over the silk stockings showing beneath the slacks. Grace’s makeup was superb, so light as to be barely noticeable, it gave her skin a dewy, no makeup look.

The lipstick was peachy, darker than her jumper, and giving her lips a wet sheen making them soft and luscious. The blusher repeated the dark peach theme and emphasized the fabulous cheekbones she’d inherited from her mother. Grace had added a gray eye shadow to accent her light blue eyes. The pretty boy had vanished replaced by a stunning girl.

"You didn’t learn all that this morning, you’re gorgeous."

"I wanted to look nice for you Daddy, its not often we get a lot of time together. I hope you don’t mind but I went through your wardrobe and on the bed is something I’d love to see you in. By then I’ll have lunch ready and we can talk about the future."

It was easy to see she was Rachel’s child, my darling wife had a similar approach when she wanted me to do something. Relaxing from a stinging shower, I dressed in Grace’s selection. A front fastened white satin corselette, wanting to look good for Grace I tightened the laces until it was painful, and my now slim waist made it worthwhile. The slither of the dark silk stockings up my legs brought a familiar tingle of excitement, with the added poignancy they had been selected by Grace.

The panties were french cut in soft black silk with lace inserts on the wide loose legs. I drew a sleeveless green satin top about me, fastening the six diamante buttons down the front then drew wide legged black filmy chiffon pants up my legs. The sheer fabric was lined with silk, so they were quite decorous. Grace had obviously sensed my liking for trousers. It must seem strange for a transvestite to have a preference of trousers over skirts, but I really loved the swirl of silk and satin wide legged pants about my legs.

It took a few minutes to apply my makeup, I was extra careful today. Grace looked superb and I knew my skin was not as young as hers was but I had cared for it and I wanted to be at least her equal in this department. I gave a careful styling of my hair and drawing a deep breath I went down the stairs. As I entered the room, her hand went to her mouth, and she ran forward on her high heels, putting her arms about me and holding me tight.

"Oh Daddy, you look so beautiful." Her lips sought mine; "I’m so lucky to have such a gorgeous parent." She said leading me out onto the sunlit terrace where lunch had been laid.

Grace had prepared a Thai beef salad, and its spicy flavor went well with the chilled bottle of Chardonnay. "This is superb Grace, cooking is also another of your talents."

"Mom taught me a lot Daddy, with you working so long at the hospital, there was plenty of time to do so."

"I’m sorry honey, I didn’t mean to make you and Mom lonely. Now darling, I think Daddy is no longer appropriate particularly when I’m dressed like this, Rachel named me Jasmine, I’d like you to call me that, is that okay?"

"Jasmine, that really is nice. Jasmine, that’s very much you daddy, it is exotic but sweet."

As soon as they had finished lunch Grace took him by the hand and lead him to the settee.

"You want to talk about our relationship" I started to intervene. "No please let me finish Jasmine, I meant what I said. Last night I discovered for the first time what love and feelings meant and I don’t want to lose that. I love you Daddy or Jasmine, whatever name we use and come hell or high water I will go on loving you."

I took her hand, "Grace I’m worried that what happened could have been a case of mistaken identities."

"Mistaken identities?" Grace said, her face puzzled.

"Yes, in our sadness at your mom’s death and the joy in finding something we could share. The love of pretty clothes, we became a little confused, you mistook me for your mother, and I mistook you for my wife."

"That wasn’t a bad thing, was it, Jasmine?" Grace asked.

"No, of course not. We became so much closer emotionally; I’ve never felt such love and desire as that before. So much desire that I could barely control it. I don’t think any act of love need be condemned, no matter what form it takes, but to do what we almost did would be wrong."

"Are you worried that it could have it might be looked upon as homosexual. I know nothing really happened, although I wanted it to. As far as my part went it wasn’t as though I was with a man. I really mean that Dad; I like girls and thought of having sex with a man appalls me. I know that must sound silly, but I really love girls."

I smiled which brought tears to Grace’s eyes, "Oh Daddy, you’re laughing at me."

"I’m not Grace, really I’m not. No it was not just homosexuality, if you were born my daughter it would have been just as wrong."

"It’s different Daddy, I never even thought of you as a male, you were as you are now my lovely Jasmine."

"I just don’t want to lead you into something, that would be wrong for you. I not only love you, but have a responsibility to ensure that I don’t influence you in the wrong way."

"Daddy, you aren’t pressuring me into anything. Are you trying to say you don’t love me anymore, and you want me out of your life, I couldn’t take that Daddy, I’d kill myself first."

I held her tightly in my arms, "I’m terribly sorry that I’ve even hinted at that my love. Of course I love you more than anything does, with your mother gone, you are my life. I just wanted you to be sure. I think it’s wonderful, that everything is so clear in your mind, we agree that you taking the place of Rachel would not be right for either of us. Being full time women wouldn’t be right for either of us." Grace nodded her head in agreement, " this morning I’ve had some thoughts about our life together and I think it might work

While Grace listened carefully, I outlined my plan to find someone to give unbiased advice to Grace (and I) and help with our relationship.

"Do you think you can find somebody like that?" Grace said, his eyes bright with anticipation." it would be ever so much fun to talk with someone fully involved with our new way of life."

"I think I can," I said, then I told her about Harriet Masterman and the circumstances of her twenty year-old nephew who had been forced to dress as a girl. Grace was highly enthusiastic and readily gave her consent to my contacting her.

"To avoid confusion, I won’t mention that I am also a transvestite, that can come later. I wouldn’t want her to think I was trading on my profession."

"I understand, Jasmine you are worried about the ethical problem."

"Exactly," I said. "How did you figure that out?"

"That after the operation you performed for her, this might in some way contravene this Hippocractic oath

"Very good," I said enthusiastically. "I wasn’t aware that you had memorized the entire oath word for word."

"Well, I may switch my studies and become a surgeon myself one day," Grace smiled. "You know, short hours, big pay, golf on Wednesday afternoon, and such."

"You forgot about all the drudgery it takes to get those dubious benefits," I pointed out. "Medical school is sheer horror anyway, I don’t think old man Hippocrates had transvestites in mind when he wrote that oath."

You say she’s no longer seeing you on a regular doctor-patient deal." Grace asked.

"That’s right," I said. "Miss Masterman’s last visit was over a year ago, and Sam Docherty is caring for her needs now."

"I’d really love to meet this Linsey," Greg said. "We seem to have a lot in common."

"Yes, you do in so far as enjoying dressing up goes," I said," but when his aunt first dressed him up, he really hated it. I’m not aware of the circumstances, but I know he had no choice."

"Imagine that" Grace smiled." being forced to dress up, such a terrible fate"

"It is more than a year since I’ve spoken to Miss Masterman, and that arrangement may have fallen through, but he was in a girl’s finishing school last time I saw her."

Grace made a face. "I’m not sure I would want to do that it would interfere with my career and sport. I’d much rather be a part-time girl at least for the time being."

"That does have its advantages, I said." The best of both worlds..." I was inwardly glad that my son, in spite of his natural talent for the diversion, was not so deeply immersed in transvestitism as to be unaware of the advantages of being a boy.

"When can we meet this lady and her pretty nephew?" Grace inquired.

"I haven’t contacted her as yet," I said. "I wanted to make sure that you approved of the idea."

"I m very enthusiastic about it," Grace said." Let’s try to set up a meeting as soon as possible."

"How about right now?" I said, as I reached for the telephone and dialed Miss Mastermind’s number. A young voice, apparently a maid’s answered on the third ring.

 

Chapter Four

When I spoke to Miss Masterman, it was as though there had been no interruption to our relationship; warmth and friendliness were evident in her voice. When she learned I had a son who was interested in dressing up as a girl, she greeted the news with enthusiasm, and understanding, I knew I’d found the right person. I explained our need for some advice and was it possible she could help. Miss Masterman was certain she could, would it be convenient to bring Greg for dinner that night?

It was established that Greg and I were to come for drinks and dinner at six p.m. that evening. Linsey had recently completed a diploma in dress design and she was looking forward to demonstrating her skill and showing off her latest dress." It’s the first time he’s been allowed such a glamorous outfit." She said.

When I hung up, Grace’s face was a study in frustrated delight. At last he would meet someone of his own age who shared her joy in clothing, "but she’ll be all dressed up, and I’ll be there in my male clothes. I’m afraid I’ll be very jealous of her."

"No you won’t," I said. "You’re going to attend Miss Masterman’s dinner in your best frock and lingerie."

"I am?" Grace retorted, her pretty face a picture of near ecstasy. "But how will I? We’d have to go from here to her home in public."

"Grace dear I told you earlier that you could easily pass for a girl in public, your walk and actions are perfectly feminine," I said. "You have a natural grace about you, and I would be proud to escort you to see Miss Masterman."

"Of course, I’ll try it. As long as you are with me, I won’t be worried well, maybe a little nervous, but not really worried."

"All right, then, it’s settled," I said. "You’ve plenty of time to change, and if you feel too nervous then you can go as if you wish."

There’s no chance of that happening," Greg said. "No chance at all."

"Don’t underestimate the amount of courage it takes to go out dressed as a girl for the first time," I said. "I can remember my public debut even now, and I was sure everybody in the world was staring at me in pure horror."

"If you’re with me," Greg replied, "I promise not to worry a bit.

I went to change, as much as I would have like to join Grace in her feminine adventure, one female appearing at Miss Masterman’s this evening would be enough. Even so I dressed carefully, a white silk shirt, floral patterned tie, tailored gray slacks and a navy cashmere blazer. Grace had chosen her own bedroom to dress I knocked on her door to check progress.

"Come in," her voice was sweet and girlish. She looked perfectly lovely in a delicately frilled chemise of snow-white satin, its lace-trimmed hem swirling saucily about smooth white thighs. A lace camisole bodice was pushed out daintily by a white lace bra filled with nipple-tipped falsies. She raised the petticoat to fasten white silk stockings to the garter belt suspenders and I saw that he was wearing a pair of panties with laciness matching the chemise. A conspicuous bulge had made its appearance in the front of the panties.

Grace had swept her hair into an urchin style, effectively concealing the shortness of Greg’s hair. On the bed lay a pretty gown in dark green satin back crepe with a long bow of satin, which would complete the illusion of femininity.

"Is that one of your own outfits?" I inquired, picking up the lace hem idly. "I don’t seem to recognize it as being from your mom’s wardrobe."

"Mom bought this ensemble for me a few weeks before her death," Grace said, her voice shaking a little.

"You do look very beautiful," I replied, patting her hand."

"Do you really and truly think so?" Grace said, all traces of sadness dissolved.

"Really and truly my darling," I said soberly." I see no reason why you couldn’t go out in public. Properly escorted, of course. You’d fool anybody, apart from one thing."

"’What thing?" Grace inquired innocently.

"That rampant little fellow down there," I said, indicating his erect penis, which seemed now ready to burst through its flimsy covering.

"Oh…I" Grace exclaimed, his face turning crimson with embarrassment.

"That’s all right," I comforted him." a perfectly natural reaction to the excitement of a first appearance in public. I’m sure you’ll find a way to reduce the problem. A perfectly natural way, at that." I got up to leave. There was disappointment on her face.

"Don’t you want to help me Daddy?"

"No darling, not when I’m James. Only Jasmine can become involved with Grace."

By six o clock that afternoon, Grace and I were in front of the ornate door of Miss Harriet Mastermind’s large mansion four miles from our own home.

I was very proud of how Grace looked and behaved, for she was the very model of a sweet girl in her best attire and acted the part perfectly. It was obvious that she had a natural affinity for the charade, and in the back of my mind I had a fleeting misgiving that maybe I was pushing her too hard along the road toward the transvestitism, although I knew he was already firmly committed to it. I felt a touch of envy at how nice she looked and was enjoying her outing, for I sorely wished I were dressed in my feminine attire as well. Nevertheless, that would have to wait - one transvestite debut at a time was enough for Miss Masterman to tolerate. I pressed the doorbell button and was rewarded with the distant sound of chimes.

 

 

Chapter Five

Before the second chorus could begin, the door opened about eight inches and a pretty face appeared in the aperture. It was that of a cute french maid. As she swung the huge oak door open, Grace and I were treated to the sight of a leggy, curvy feminine body encased in a stiffly skirted black satin outfit with a veritable froth of white lace petticoats billowing beneath the skirt.

"I’m Doctor James Leshame," I said, "and this is my daughter, Grace."

"Oh, yes," the maid said in a faintly french accented voice, "Madame has been expecting you. She and Miss Linsey are in the library."

I was aware that she was giving my feminized son a searching appraisal and liked what she saw.

"My name is Yvette," she explained.

Grace’s face flushed under her scrutiny, more from pleasure than from embarrassment. She obviously basked in her approval and enjoyed the spectacle of her opulent femininity as much as I was.

"Come this way," Yvette said, taking Grace’s hand in hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze. I followed the two of them, wishing it were my hand she was squeezing so lovingly. Halfway down the silk paneled hall Grace entered a large book lined room.

Miss Harriet Masterman was seated in a velvet antique chair before the huge fireplace. It was difficult to believe she was into her late fifties. A perfect unlined face and trim figure, she wore a simple slender velvet dress in royal blue. The slim skirt was slit to the knee in the front. From it emerged a shapely leg clad in dark blue silk stockings.

"Doctor James and Miss Grace Leshame," Yvette announced ceremonially.

I accepted her proffered hand kissing the back lightly. Grace not to be outdone dropped into a perfectly executed curtsey, which brought a gasp of appreciation from our hostess.

"How perfectly charming" Harriet Masterman exclaimed," and what a beautiful girl you make, my dear."

Later, I asked Grace why she curtsied to this handsome lady, she smiled, and said, "it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I’m sure she’s the type of person one curtseys to."

Across from her, stood a stunning blonde wearing a cream crepe long dress, it had an empire waist with a series of delicate pleats at the back and fastened with a long satin bow. As she moved towards us with the sound of whispering taffeta petticoats. The term "simply stunning "can be abused, but for Linsey it was perfect. Petite, with white blonde hair, she was obviously no part time girl. Her hair and the cleavage of creamy skinned breasts emerging from the dress indicated this. It was clear Grace was smitten, she stepped forward and kissed Grace lightly on the cheek and said, "Grace you are ever so pretty. I hope we can become very close friends"

Grace flushed a fiery red, she appeared captivated by Linsey, her manner obviously excited by the attention from Linsey, in fact it was obvious my son was infatuated, if it was not love at first sight. Yvette drew chairs up closer to the fire for us, and Miss Masterman beamed when she saw Grace seating himself daintily, careful not to rumple her skirts sitting relaxed with a straight back in the chair.

"You didn’t tell me that your daughter was so lovely, Doctor LeShame," Miss Masterman said.

"Thank you Miss. Masterman " I said, clearing away the lump in my throat, "but you will have to be careful we do want her to become swollen headed. Grace ignored my jibe.

"You are very sweet to say such nice things about me, Miss Masterman," said Grace, simpering. "I’m not used to such flattery."

"But it is true," Miss Masterman insisted. "You are simply gorgeous."

Miss. Masterman and I exchanged knowing looks. The two boy-girls would, It seemed, make good companions for each other.

"Yes," I said, "I must say that Linsey is a stunningly beautiful girl. You have done very well with her."

"Linsey is a joy and a comfort to me in my old age," Miss. Masterman said, smiling at her nephew, who was showing Grace some of his embroidery work? She had been embroidering in white satin stitch a large and ornate "L," across the front of a pair of pink silk panties. "However, we did have problems in the beginning, first the drugs, then after her probation finished Linsey wanted to return to her male identity and had ideas of becoming a businessman, a Banker wasn’t it darling?"

Linsey flushed at her words, it must have been awkward for her to be discussed in this manner in front of virtual strangers. "Yes Aunt Harriet," she replied, her eyes downcast. It was obviously something they had disagreed upon.

"I’m sure Doctor LeShame will agree it would not have been a sensible move."

I was placed in a difficult position immediately feeling sympathy for Linsey; Mrs. Masterman was a most formidable woman.

"Well I’m not sure of the circumstances Mrs. Masterman, but a banker as beautiful as Linsey would certainly have got my business."

Linsey gave a grateful smile as Miss Masterman smiled, "A well chosen reply Doctor Leshame. Diplomacy must be now in the Doctor’s curriculum. In any case Linsey decided a few weeks ago that she would prefer fashion design."

Immediately Grace said to Linsey, "I have completed some study into design. Have you any sketches?"

The two moved to the other end of the massive room to examine Linsey’s sketches.

"Now Doctor Leshame, please call me Harriet. and tell me when did you discover your own sweet Grace’s interest in frocks and frills?"

I explained that it had been only a few days since I found Greg dressing up in his mother’s clothes. Harriet listened compassionately to the recount of Rachel’s sudden death and our sense of total loss in the last few weeks. I omitted my own sense of transvestitism, and of course did not mention the sexual scene, which had gone on between Greg and me that night.

"I’m so sorry to hear of your loss," said Miss Masterman, "but must say you have accepted the discovery of your son’s transvestism with compassion and understanding. Most males, particularly a father are furious and reject their children out of hand."

Miss Masterman was looking into my eyes intently, and I fear I dropped them under her intense gaze. Was it possible she suspected I was a transvestite too? After a pause, the result of groping for the right words I managed to stutter.

"I really don’t see any moral harm in such a pursuit. My reading of the medical journals stress that transvestism is more than just a whimsical notion, it is deeply a embedded need and trying to prevent it can cause deep seated psychological problems. Besides from my own personal view he is a great comfort as he does look so much like my former wife when he is dressed."

"I can see how you would," Harriet Masterman replied. "Linsey is the very image of my late mother and I treasure that memory.

"She is a delightful girl," I replied," and I’m sure she would be a source of great pride to you."

Harriet Masterman’s gaze became firmer now, and I felt as though she were once more scrutinizing me closely.

Miss Masterman smiled. "Doctor Leshame I must tell you are probably the one man I trust and like. My early experience taught me to never to have any confidence in the male sex, you may not have realized it at the time of my operation, but I was very reluctant to trust you. I wanted a female to complete my operation but I was assured there was no one with your skill and experience. I went into the hospital with great trepidation and what I found was a great surgeon and a wonderful human being. I was tempted to contact you several times, not for medical reasons but to renew an acquaintance as a friend but I felt it would be intruding. I can’t tell you how overjoyed I was when you called me the other day with your problem and we could meet again. Now please call me Harriet."

I felt quite overwhelmed by her words. "Really Miss Harriet, I don’t know what to say. I’m really happy to renew a friendship with a person I much admired as a patient and thought was one of the nicest people I’d met."

"My dear James, you have helped also in bringing Grace into my home. I was becoming rather worried about Linsey, although she has a number of acquaintances, she does not seemed to have formed a close friendship with any. If I may say so, she seemed immediately to strike a rapport with Grace, I’ve never seen her so excited by anyone before. So in trying to solve one of your problems we seem to have solved one of mine." Harriet said. "There is one further favor I might ask." She said glancing at her watch. "I would like you to meet another member of my family, my sister Fran. I think you’ll like her James, she’s younger and prettier than I am."

"Of course Harriet I’d be delighted. She may be younger Harriet, but prettier? I have difficulty in believing that."

"Of course not Harriet, and I’d love to meet your sister." It was news to me that Harriet Masterman had a sister, this had never been mentioned before, but with all the kindness I had received it would be nice to meet a further member of this delightful family.

 

 

Chapter Six

Grace and Linsey returned to our discussion, and we listened to Linsey talking about the various items of lingerie, which he especially loved.

She turned to the two younger members of the party. "Grace my dear, you seem very interested in lingerie, Linsey has just received several new sets and some lovely corsets. You are almost the same size. I’m sure Linsey would let you try her new corset, if you wish to."

Grace had a love of lingerie and after seeing my own corsets was very keen to get several of her own. At Harriet’s invitation her eyes lit up, I’d love to Miss Masterman."

Linsey was already on her feet. "Yes, Aunt Harriet, how long have we? "

"No longer than an hour, Fran will be here in an hour and a half I’d like you here to greet her."

"Of course Aunt and taking Grace’s hand led her from the room their skirts swishing delightfully. Linsey’s, with all that taffeta sounded especially delightful.

Miss. Masterman waited for them to leave the room, then turned to me and said, "I thought we should continue this discussion on our own. Would you like to see what they get up to? Unknown to all except Yvette, there is a close circuit television in all the rooms. It should be fun to watch the two of them together. I know we are intruding into their privacy but it is fun. A few moments to get under way, then follow them upstairs."

Harriet and I took up our cups of tea and sipped them, but I couldn’t help the way my hand was trembling. If I were that shaky in the operating theater, I would be my patient’s executioner. I was sure that Harriet noticed my excitement.

" Yvette is well-versed in techniques of keeping their charges from getting in hand," Mrs. Masterman said, smiling at me over her cup of tea.

"Greg ... I mean, Grace ... has never presented me or my wife with any disciplinary problems. We did not believe in using violent means of punishing him, preferring to use affection in its place."

"Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply that sort of thing. Yvette has been trained be to use subtle, more effective means. You must realize, of course, that the act of cross-dressing on the part of the young male has ... er ... certain erotic components."

I appreciated her frankness and suppressing the desire to tell her that erotic components are equally present in older male transvestites, I said, "yes." It was evident in the way Greg reacted as he was dressing up this afternoon."

"I can imagine that it was," Mrs. Masterman replied. " I’m sure you will find it most interesting."

Rising from her chair, she escorted me out the door and along the hall. As we ascended the long curved staircase, Harriet told me that the special cameras built into the house were for security reasons but they could also be used for observation. "I am very discrete about whom I use it upon, James, I am not a voyeur by nature".

We entered a magnificent bedroom large and very feminine. The walls lined with silk panels and the room dominated by an enormous canopied bed. She took a key from her bodice and inserted it in a door discreetly tucked behind a silk panel. The room was smallish, ample for two people to sit in comfortable chairs before a large television screen, surrounded by a number of smaller monitors. It was clear that different parts of Linsey’s room could be viewed and brought up in close up when required. Other parts of the house could also be observed in the same way, she indicated. I sat beside her in the close proximity of the room; I could smell her delightful perfume and was aware that despite the fact she was more than ten years older than I was, she was a very attractive woman.

For the moment the scene took my attention, my son and Linsey were in animated conversation as they oohed and aahed over various pieces of delicate lingerie and dainty frocks.

Harriet Masterman flicked a switch on the armrest of her chair, and now we could hear their conversation, which was for the entire world like two teenage girls gabbing away about clothes. Finally, Linsey said to Grace, "Would you like to try my new corset, I bet you can’t tighten it all the way." It was spoken as a challenge, and it was obvious that part of Greg’s nature flowed into Grace, as Greg was not the type one to pass up on a challenge.

"I bet I can," she said.

"Let’s try it then," Linsey said.

Grace nodded as Linsey unfastened her dress letting it slide to a puddle beneath her feet, the petticoat quickly followed and she stood clad only in her panties, stockings and camisole. The excitement of the evening had had its’ effect and her silk panties were tented far from her body.

Linsey’s fingers went to her mouth, and she gave a soft gasp. Her surprise at the size of her companion was evident.

"Goodness, you are all boy down there." She said with a soft giggle, "come on let me see it all." As she determinedly tugged the panties past Grace’s hips, letting them join the dress and petticoat on the floor.

I heard a hiss as Harriet drew breath. "My what a beautiful child you have James, so feminine, and so attractively male below the waist."

I felt Harriet’s hand on mine it felt moist and it was obvious she was as excited, as I was. Now it was Grace’s turn to help Linsey undress, and moments later her clothes joined Grace’s on the floor, leaving Linsey in panties of sheer pink silk and lace. A large blue "L" was embroidered in the center emphasizing the area where his male symbol was supposed to be. I expected to see a similar if smaller bulge akin to Grace’s instead here was only a very feminine front. Poor Grace was even more surprised than I, her cheeks flushed as she said. "Oh how could you, You’re not a boy at all." It was obvious that she was highly embarrassed by the deceit.

. Quickly Linsey unbuttoned a catch at the side of her drawers and let them slip down, again I was surprised to see not the slightest sign of masculinity, only a few pink ribbons which Linsey was now undoing.

"No, I’m not really a girl, silly," Linsey told Greg. "I’m wearing my little modesty device to keep me flat and girlish In front, watch" Linsey’s opened her legs and let her symbol swing down. It was still crumpled due to its tight confinement, but now free quickly swelled erect. Linsey was not as large as Grace, probably due to her hormone intake, but she was certainly not undeveloped.

"Oh how could you?" Said Grace; "I was so very embarrassed thinking I had been undressing in front of a girl. You certainly had me fooled."

"I’m sorry Grace dear", she said Linsey taking my son in her arms, pressing their bodies together, and kissing her on the lips. They were a pretty sight, with their appendages hidden between their bodies they looked like beautiful girls very much in love

At that moment, the door to the room opened as Yvette entered, Grace quickly withdrew from Linsey’s arms looking rather guilty.

"What are you up too?" Said Yvette in a mock-serious tone of voice. "I see neither of you are wearing your panties and Miss Linsey where is your gaffe?"

"I was showing Grace my modesty device." Linsey said quietly "We were doing nothing wrong Yvette, just having fun."

"Perhaps we should tell Madame. Such immodesty is very naughty and must be punished."

Grace looked surprised, but was becoming exasperated by the invasion of their privacy; Linsey placed her hand on Grace’s arm. "Yes Yvette we were naughty, and deserve our punishment." Putting his finger to his lips to shush Grace up. Grace was smart enough to go along with Linsey’s urging.

"Linsey, you know what you must do now seat yourself on the bed in the correct manner," Yvette said.

Linsey looking chastened seated himself on the edge of the ornate bed leaning backward until she was reclining, With her feet still on the floor; Linsey’s erection appeared larger as she lay back, I knew it was an illusion, but her slim pink appendage appeared to have grown, and the sight of it rearing from the lace frills at the bottom of her satin corset was one of the most erotic sight I had ever seen. Grace was ordered into a position a little further down the bed, right next to Linsey, and her member appeared enormous.

Yvette smiled, "What have we here? This person is making a brazen display of himself. I must take him In hand." She turned to the bureau opened and withdrew two shiny silk sheaths. In her hand, one she gave to Linsey.

"Linsey, install this little garment. While I help your friend, this is the largest I could find, and it will help you Miss Grace to be more modest." While Linsey obvious practiced hands began slipping the shiny silk over her turgid appendage Yvette was completing a similar action upon Grace from her sighs it seemed far from any punishment.

I heard Harriet shift in the chair beside me as she raised her hips and slipped the velvet gown higher up her body until the knee length opening was at her hips. Still tightly holding my hand, her other hand disappeared beneath the skirt and it was obvious she was finding enjoyment with her fingers. I reached across to help, but her grip tightened on my fingers she smiled at me, saying, "No James dear, I’m fine for the moment, this is just an appetizer, just watch those lovely girls."

Harriet had stretched out in the chair and I could hear the soft rustling of the silk petticoat as her hand continued the movement within her skirt. It was most erotic; my own member was stretched beyond comfort in the confines of the satin panties. On the screen the punishment continued, the maid, bringing the two girls almost to a climax before pausing in her gentle caressing through the silk sheaths. By now Linsey and Grace were cuddling each other and kissing. I adjusted the focus bringing them into close up Grace was certainly enjoying herself, her tongue was deep inside Linsey’s mouth in a French kiss.

My attention was distracted by Harriet, her breath, her breath was cooing in short hard gasps, "oh, oh, yes, yes. She cried. The hand about mine tightened, then with a final squeal of delight Harriet collapsed, relaxing in the chair.

"Oh Doctor James, that was good, I feel so relaxed. What must you think of me?" She said straightening her dress.

"I think it wonderful, Harriet dear, it was very exciting to be with you."

She reached across and kissed me on the cheek, "what a sweet man you are, you are due for a reward once the children have finished."

We turned back to the screen, the two girls were flushed with excitement, and they were begging the maid for relief.

"Are you agreeing to be good girls"? Said Yvette still caressing Linsey’s silk covered appendage. The sheath was damp with moisture at the tip.

"Yes Miss Yvette I promise, I will do anything you say."

We could see her body squirming in anticipation; both girls were on the edge of climaxing; only prevented from doing so by the clever manipulation of Yvette.

"Please Miss Yvette we will be good, won’t we Grace?"

"I promise," said Grace, " please let me come." Her body was twitching in anticipation.

"Should I?" said Yvette. "Or maybe I should ask Madame?" There was a look of disappointed frustration on the pretty faces of both charges the face and body of Linsey and Grace were a deep pink.

"Let me see you cuddle and kiss, then if you are very good then we’ll see." Said Yvette.

The two boy-girls required little further invitation, their arms were about one another as their lips touched and caressed. Then Yvette lowered her head and took Grace’s silk covered clitoris between her lips the effect on Grace was instantaneous, her cries of ecstasy were particularly loud. I knew that this was my sons’ first taste of such delight, and it would be an experience he would remember for the rest of his life. It lasted only a few minutes before then it was Linsey’s turn to explode into the mouths of their benefactress, and lay back on the satin covered bed still embracing with the look of utter bliss on their faces.

Watching them had been so exciting, from the heat of my own body I knew my face was flushed red and my iron hard member was twitching uncontrollably in the confines of the satin panties. Harriet’s hands moved to my waist and before I could react she had released my belt and unzipped me, exposing my straining member frantically trying to burst through its satin confines.

"You naughty boy," she smiled as she reached for my member, "did you think you had fooled me. I knew you to be a transvestite the first time I saw you. There was a hint of eyebrow plucking, A mere trace of nail polish lingering, a redness to your lips - only an experienced person like myself would have noticed."

She opened my shirt revealing the satin camisole. "Very pretty, I must see you dressed one, I’m sure you’d look very pretty."

Harriet pulled the lacy waistband over my burgeoning member and down my hips. "It’s time for your punishment now." She slid to her knees, her lips still shiny with the red lipstick forming luscious O. She rubbed her cheek against my engorged penis, "Mm," she exclaimed, "this is the first time I’ve ever voluntarily wanted to do this, but you are such a wonderful man." Then she took it between her perfectly shaped red lips, and completed the task carried out only moments ago by a pretty maids.

I wanted to ask what she meant, but the pleasure was too much, for within moments she had me gasping as my copious orgasm gushed forth into her eager throat. She took all had to give and sucked on for more.

"Mmm" she said, licking me clean. "Good to the last drop."

Harriet looked at my panties as she drew back eyeing the spotting that had occurredbefore her operation. "You can’t wear these, just a moment I’ll fetch you another pair." A few moments later Harriet returned holding an unusual pair of satin bloomers.

"Try these James, I’m sure you will them."

They were white and the material was extremely slippery satin. The bloomers buttoned at the waist they were slim cut over the hips but fitted comfortably about his hips before closely following his legs to just below his calves where they buttoned. The swirl of the satin as I drew up my slacks sent a flood of sexual pleasure through my body I could already feel my erection. A point not missed by the sharp eye of Harriet.

"You obviously like those James?"

I smiled self-consciously, feeling flustered that the feel of the satin could cause such a reaction.

"Oh don’t be embarrassed, they belong to my sister Fran, she likes to feel sexy and comfortable when she wears trousers they were especially designed. I’m hoping Fran will be joining us for dinner."

My face telegraphed my fear, Harriet reached out and touched my hand. "Don’t worry James dear, I won’t tell her."

 

 

Chapter Seven

We were waiting in the reception as the two girls entered. Grace had on her original dress, but her waist was noticeably smaller than it had been an hour ago. I was reluctant to say they had witnessed the two girls imbroglio, but Harriet appeared to have no such inhibitions, "Linsey have you been up to some mischief. Grace’s waist seems so much smaller."

Poor Grace, my son’s face flushed red, no doubt thinking Miss Masterman had discovered the pleasure he’d experienced.

"Oh no Aunt Harriet, Grace just tried on my new corset, and it suited her so much I wanted her to keep it." She simpered.

At that moment the door opened, "Sorry I’m late Harri, they put us into a stack, and it was impossible to get a cab."

She was tall slim blonde very like my favorite actress Meg Ryan. She was wearing a crisply tailored black silk trouser suit, that at the same moment appeared both elegant and feminine.

"Oh darling don’t worry I’m so glad you’re here. James this is my sister Fran, Doctor Leshame."

I held out my hand, "James please."

Over dinner I couldn’t take my eyes off her, she was classically beautiful, her lips just a little fuller than they should be .I found myself talking to her so easily. Harriet had introduced Grace and it was only then she connected that he was Greg.

"Really Harriet you mean Grace?"

"Yes dear, it is Grace."

"James’s I never realized, he’s so beautiful, you are a lucky father."

It was the final part, her acceptance that sent the goose bumps up my spine. In the space of minutes I was in love with her

On the way home I asked whether Miss Masterman was the answer to our problem, to which he replied, "you bet she is, dad. it will be nice to have Linsey and Fran for friends," I put in.

"Wasn’t Fran gorgeous Dad, I could see she liked you."

"Do you think so?"

"Oh yes Daddy, she couldn’t take her eyes off you."

It was late when we returned home after our exciting visit to Harriet Masterman. It was impossible to relax after meeting the lovely Fran and her beautifully feminine young nephew Linsey. Although Grace and I were exhausted, we were still high with excitement. Grace was exhausted by the ministrations of the captivating Yvette, but roused far beyond his dreams after meeting the beautiful feminine Linsey. Fran was foremost in my mind, no one had excited and enthralled me the way she had since the loss of my beloved Rachel.

It had been a remarkable night the sight of my son in the arms of Linsey, with the satin clad temptresses of a maid using her lips to bring them to an orgasm. The picture of Harriet’s lips about my member bringing me to my own sublime pleasure. Her insistence that I don the voluminous bloomers and the continual awareness of the subtle swirl of satin about my loins, when I was talking and laughing to their owner Fran. It had filled my imagination with erotic thoughts and desires and sleep was the last thing on my mind. I was thankful tomorrow was a free day and there were no operations scheduled at all.

Removing my shirt and slacks, I stood dressed only in the chemise and the pair of satin bloomers. The touch of the slinky satin was still effecting me, the fabric clung tightly to my hips, but the ugly bulge still tented it. I had been in this state since donning the garment and it had been very difficult and uncomfortable hiding my state from Fran. The knowledge that she was probably wearing a similar pair beneath her smart trouser suit had only accentuated my problem, Harriet seeing my plight had helped by stepping in front of me at two crucial moments and I felt we were both involved in conducting a sexual conspiracy against her sister

My favorite satin nightgown and negligee lay ready on the bed, and as I pulled the camisole over my head, Grace knocked lightly and immediately stepped into the bedroom.

"Oh Daddy can you please help me, Linsey has tied a knot in the lace and I can’t loosen my corset."

She stopped short a puzzled look on her face, "Daddy those bloomers, you weren’t wearing those when we went to Mrs. Masterman’s." She drew the fabric between her fingers, "Wow it is so soft and smooth, and you obviously like them" she said eyeing the bulge swelling the satin.

She looked so beautiful, in silk stockings and the pink satin corset frilled with cream lace, only the tenting of her cream satin panties said she was not the girl she appeared to be. Reaching over her rounded hips I managed to release the knot the releasing her from the constricting satin corset.

"Thanks Daddy, that such a relief."

She slipped the rest of her undergarments from her body and drew a Victoria’s secret short satin cream nightgown over her head it fell to her knees and hid her only touch of maleness. In spite of her short tousled hair and her rounded but flat chest Grace was the picture of feminine beauty. Slipping the bloomers from my legs I drew a rose satin night over my head, unlike Grace’s preference for the shorter gown my fondness was for ankle length.

Grace drew me to her, "Daddy could I sleep with you tonight?" She saw my hesitation, "please Daddy, I need someone to hold me." Still holding my hand Grace led me to the wide windows and drew back the drapes allowing the moon to fill the room with soft light. We stood, watching the Willamette far below as it joined the Columbia it’s water shimmering like silk on its march to the sea. "It looks so beautiful," said Grace squeezing my fingers.

She snuggled close to me beneath the silken sheets, her hair was soft and silky tickling my cheek and lips, my heart went out to my gorgeous son lying so close to me.

"Daddy I feel so happy, today I feel so wonderful. Is it possible to fall in love at first sight?"

"Of course darling I knew your mother was the only woman for me the moment we met. Why do you ask?"

"I’m in love with Linsey, I just want to be with her every moment."

I tried to hide my shock. I’ve always thought myself as completely open-minded and to be able to accept anyone’s sexual predilection. Being a transvestite you would have to be a complete hypocrite not to. This thought is easy on a philosophical basis, but suddenly when your own flesh and blood confronts you and tells you he is in love with another male changes everything.

"But darling yesterday you said you were not sexually interested in boys."

"I don’t understand Daddy, nothing has changed. " In the soft moonlight I could see the puzzled frown on her face. "Oh you mean Linsey, but Daddy I could never think of her as a boy, to me she’s totally a girl. I couldn’t think of her as anything else."

Before I could say any more Grace pressed herself against my thigh, I could feel her hardness through the silk nightdresses as she pressed against my thigh. Then her slender fingers slid along my leg, gliding over the satin and finding my rampart member. Her touch was light but determined wrapping tightly about my organ. The pleasure was so profound, the breath left my body, it was not right I could not let this happen.

"No darling, we both agreed that we wouldn’t."

"Daddy we are doing nothing wrong, it is not as though we are having sex. I just want to relax so please hold me."

She touched me in a spot that I thought only Rachel knew, the pleasure of it was unbearable. "Please Daddy hold me."

It became too much, trying to ignore the guilt of what I was happening. Her clitoris was warm and hard through the sleek satin. I explored the flesh feeling the heartbeat pulsing through the vein beneath her swollen member. The guilt I was feeling dissipated beneath the sheer pleasure of the searching fingers, within minutes I was on the brink of an explosion. Grace sensed his approaching climax, and the questing fingers slowed, "No darling Daddy, I’m not ready yet. Wait for a moment. Grace slid smoothly from the bed, returning moments later. She slid my satin nightie above my hips and rolled a contraceptive down my iron hardness.

"I’ve popped one on Daddy, now there’ll be no mess. Please Daddy I want to come with you, just pretend it is Mama"

My fingers searched for and found Grace’s most sensitive areas, soon her cries of pleasure were echoing in my ears. "Oh Daddy thank you, I love you."

"Yes my darling, " I felt her slender body snuggle against me. " I love you."

 

 

Chapter Eight

Grace and I started out to have a long lazy day after the delightful night with Harriet Masterman

The feeling of guilt about our behavior the previous night lingered. I felt that my duty of care slipped and I began to explain my lapse to Grace.

She would have none of it, "Daddy I’m eighteen now, more than old enough to make my own decisions. You were the dutiful father last night, unfortunately." Her lips twisting into a small moue, her arms were tightly about me as she as she pressed her body still in the satin nightgown and negligee tightly against mine. The soft scent of her hair filled his senses and her lips touched his softly. "I love you Daddy," she said.

Grace had been considering her career, or rather Greg’s’. " I want to follow you Daddy. At first law seemed right for me, a break in tradition but now I know I want to be a Doctor, more than that a Surgeon. Be honest please Daddy, does that seem right for me?"

I took her in my arms, "Oh darling of course it does, you have the brains for it, more importantly you care for people. I’m sure you will be wonderful at it and I’ll give you all the support I can. Is it going to be Greg or Grace?"

"I’d love to be Grace all the time, but I know I’m not ready, so I think some more time is required before such an important decision. I know it would be far more difficult as a woman to establish my self would, so it will probably be the cowardly Doctor Greg Leshame who graduates.

"Greg it’s not cowardly to act with caution, you are being sensible, there’s no reason to become a martyr."

"I know Daddy, but we should be able to express ourselves the way we want to, not hide ourselves in the closet. I want to transfer to Portland City University I know they have a great med. school there."

I couldn’t disagree with that after all I lectured there as well. "Would this have anything to do with the fact that you would be close to Linsey?"

She blushed very prettily. "Well of course it could have a lot to do with the fact that both the most wonderful people in my life live here. I know it must seem silly, after only one meeting but we’re in love and I want to marry her."

Part of this wasn’t difficult to comprehend; I’d felt exactly the same about Rachel. The moment I met her, I knew we were meant for each other. Fortunately we both thought that way and we married three months later. Oh yes I knew all about love at first sight. The vital difference between Greg and my love for Rachel, she had been a woman. Was it possible to feel the same way about a feminine male like Lindsey? Obviously Grace thought so. I knew my son well enough to know that only he could decide, he rarely made a hasty decision and I’d accept totally whatever choice he made. Lindsey was quite delightful; she was beautiful charming and very sweet. However she was a he, I knew my thoughts were quite hypocritical, after all I tried at times to be as feminine as Linsey, but there was an unease within myself as I thought of them together. My thoughts turned to Fran, when I’d kissed her goodnight, really only a gentle kiss on the cheek, there had been that feeling.

It was as though an electric shock had passed between us. Fran had given a little gasp and I knew she had felt it also. In that instant I had fallen in love, Harriet Masterman’s home must have some magical quality. I desperately wanted to see her again, but she had travelled to Los Angeles this morning with Harriet, but would be back very soon.

Grace had been talking to Linsey this morning, they’d spent an hour on the phone already. Unhappily for Grace, Linsey was also travelling with Harriet and Fran to Los Angeles, something to do with Harriet’s financial affairs and they’d be away for a week or so.

Tomorrow Greg was returning to San Francisco for two weeks, he’d clear his affairs and arrange for his studies to be continued in Portland.

"Seeing you are going to have to be dull old Greg for the next two weeks, why don’t I take my beautiful daughter out for lunch."

"Oh Daddy that would be wonderful, will I have company of the beautiful Jasmine today?"" No darling not this time, I’m not ready to come out of the closet, just yet. I’m too well known to be completely confident of escaping unnoticed particularly driving my own car. You put on something glamorous, there’s a nice restaurant on Mount Hood where if we’re spotted I’ll pass you off as my niece from New York."

"Niece Daddy, that’s so old fashioned, no-one will believe it. They’ll think you have a new young lover and that’s what I want them to believe."

Before I could think of a suitable rejoinder She skipped off to change. Her rounded hips moving saucily beneath the slinky satin gown.

A few minutes later I went to my bedroom to change. The thought of Jasmine had been tempting, leaving the sensual of the satin gown and negligee would be unwelcome, but it would only be for a short time. Sitting careful displayed in the center of the bed, was a white lace and satin garter belt, white pure silk stockings, a pair of beautiful cream silk and lace French knickers and matching camisole. There was no doubt that Grace expected at least part of Jasmine to be with them. I had just donned the underwear, pulling the slinky camisole down my body when Grace entered.

"Daddy I hope you don’t mind if I wear this?" About her body was the black corsolette I’d first seen in London about Rachel’s before that evening with Simone, that delightful shemale? I felt a stab of pain at the memory and it must have showed momentarily on my face.

"Oh Daddy I’ve hurt you, I’m so sorry. I’ll take it off." She said flinging her arms about me and kissing me gently on the lips."

At once I realized that life must go on, and seeing the black against the slender body again made me recognize just how alike they were. The corsolette was perfect on her emphasizing the soft creamy skin beneath it. " Daddy could you please tighten the laces, otherwise I’ll never get into my suit."

I tugged them into position; Grace gave a soft "oof" with still an inch to go. I stopped pulling not wanting to discomfort her. "No don’t stop all the way please Daddy."

I tied them in a small bow. Grace turned her hands on hip admiring the slender waist.

"How do I look?"

"You little vixen, you know how without my input. Absolutely gorgeous, but I’d advise putting on the gaffe, otherwise there’ll be all sorts of questions." I said eyeing the bulge in her satin panties.

"You are an old spoil sport Daddy." Grace said as she kissed my cheek before skipping off to complete her dressing.

I slipped into my best silk slacks, cream silk shirt, and a cashmere navy blazer, Rachel had helped me purchase in London. They had been very expensive but had been well worth it, they looked terrific and would compliment Grace. I envied her my clothes were good but they were not what I really wanted to wear. The satin underwear and silk stockings would have to suffice today

Grace returned, to my surprise she had espoused a dress in favor of a satin trouser suit. It was another one of Rachel’s, but any thoughts of sadness were dispelled by the way she looked, so beautiful. No wonder she’d wanted the corset tight, the jacket and trousers were cut to accentuate her figure. It was in a cream satin; the trousers slim to emphasize her rounded so feminine bottom, and her long long legs. Beneath the jacket was a powder blue silk camisole, it matched her eyes, and the corsolette had managed to produce some cleavage and a rounded swelling. A pair of satin strap sandals also matched the camisole. Grace was not only beautiful, today she was elegant.

She stopped in the doorway. "Well Daddy, how do I look? Will I pass?"

I was so overcome, this was Greg my son, two days ago a handsome if slightly nerdy looking guy. How could he have transformed into this gorgeous creature before me?

"Oh darling you look stunning, I just can’t believe it." I managed to stutter.

She hugged me closely and her kiss was soft on my cheek. "You really are an old smoothie, you really know how to flatter a girl."

Grace caused every eye to follow us as we entered the restaurant. Something indefinable had changed my quiet son into a young goddess that caused people to gape with astonishment. There was a charisma, a magnetism about her, a factor in the genes inherited from Rachel perhaps.

It was an enjoyable meal, similar to many I’d had with Rachel where I had felt the envy of other men in the room wondering how they could also bring such beauty into there lives. The women tended to study her, and accept that she was young, beautiful, has a figure to die for, and wore gorgeous clothes. Then just shrugged it off. I kept trying to tell myself that it was ridiculous, that she wasn’t a beautiful girl, she was my son, but the longer I looked at Grace the harder it was to accept.

It was an enjoyable lunch, the most enjoyable I’ve had since Rachel’s death, and we even danced. They had a trio playing in the corner, and on Grace’s insistence we completed three of the slower numbers. It was disturbing, holding her in my arms, the feel of her softness, the touch of her hair against my cheek, and the oh so familiar scent made me rock hard. The minx, immediately pressed her body against mine, for a moment I wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever, but then sanity returned.

"Daddy is that a pistol in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me? I thought I was supposed to be your niece Daddy, goodness you are a wicked old uncle."

"Grace, please let’s sit down."

"I don’t think it’s a good idea yet, Daddy. I’m really enjoying myself, just relax. If we walk off now everyone will see what I can feel, we should wait for a few minutes."

We drove back in the late afternoon with the sun creating soft shadows and giving a delicate fuzziness to the countryside. I had finally relaxed and Grace had given me a tender lingering kiss before leaving the dance floor. She squeezed my hand and said, "thank you I really loved that. I felt so safe and feminine in your arms."

Walking out of the restaurant with her on my arm, I knew the envy of every man followed me.

Grace was curled up felinely in the leather seat of my Jaguar.

"Daddy thank you so much for today, you really are so good to me." She wriggled across the seat and nestled her head on my shoulder. She rubbed one red tipped hand across my chest; "hmm that satin feels so sexy beneath the silk." The second hand was suddenly resting lightly on the inside of my leg, one finger tracing the tabs of my garter belt and running along the silk stockings.

My erection was plainly visible thrusting hard against my trousers, as her fingers sought me through the satin. A combination of surprise and intense pleasure almost made me lose control of the car. "Grace, don’t." I screamed."

"Oh Daddy I’m so sorry. I didn’t to harm you." She said beginning to sob quietly.

"It’s all right darling, it was the surprise." As we settled down for a quieter drive home, her head still resting on my shoulder, but her hands were quieter.

We slept together that night as two girls, and in the morning we bid farewell at the airport. I knew it would only be two weeks but my life would be a lot emptier without Grace.

 

Chapter Nine

I’d been in my office for an hour, desperately trying to settle down and put my mind to work. Everything seemed so dull after the excitement of the last few days, and then I was delighted when Brenda my Secretary said there was a call from Ms Masterman.

"James I hope you don’t mind me calling you at this time."

"Of course not Fran, I hoping to call you later anyway."

"I hope you don’t think I’m being rather forward, but I have an invitation to a new showing at the Walker gallery for tonight and I wonder whether you’d like to accompany me."

"I’d love to Fran, but only if you will let me buy dinner afterwards."

Luckily my day turned out to be rather slow and I could relax, shower before collecting Fran from Harriet’s house.

"Good evening Doctor Leshame, please come in Miss Fran, is almost ready, I’m sure she will be down very shortly." Said Yvette opening wide the front door.

As I entered Fran swept down the wide staircase, she took my proffered hand and kissed me lightly on the cheek. She was dressed simply and elegantly. An evening suit, in forest green satin, which I learned later, was from Dior. The collarless close fitting jacket outlined her small high breasts; a gold silk chemise glistened beneath it. The knee length skirt showed dimpled knees through shimmering gold tinted silk stockings. On her feet were satin gold strap sandals, which matched her clutch handbag.

Her strawberry blonde was swept into a mass of soft curls, framing her face halo like. She stepped back her violet eyes quizzical. " I hope you wanted to come James, I realized after I’d telephoned, that you might think me to forward."

"I was delighted to come Fran."

The gallery, was one of the better in the city, and they were showing two fashionable artists, one in landscapes that interested us both. The second was abstract which both Fran and I came to simultaneous conclusion that we were seeing pretentious rubbish. It was my happiest occasion since Rachel’s death. Walking with Fran on my arm, finding we had so much in common in taste and thought. I desperately wanted to be alone with her and as if reading my thoughts. She said, "I think I’ve seen enough James."

The restaurant was fifteen minutes away on a hill above the Willamette, quiet intimate and in a romantic setting .We settled into a quiet booth. Sipping on a smooth Chardonnay, I looked at her. She was classically beautiful, though possibly her jaw was slightly too firm and her mouth too generous. Those small faults were more than made up by the glorious reddish blonde hair and exotic violet eyes.

She asked about Grace and I told her about taking Grace to lunch, leaving out the sexual feelings and Grace’s action that had caused a near accident on the way home. Fran said how very disappointed Linsey had been at having to go to Las Angeles with Harriet. She would have far preferred staying home and seeing Grace. "It does seem a cased of love at first sight." She said, "how do you feel about it."

"Greg must follow his own course, it is unusual but he is very adult and whatever decision he reaches I’ll support."

"You are very understanding James, it must be very difficult to accept because their circumstances are quite unusual. Harriet had some misgivings, but I know it was her respect for you that overcame them. I envy Grace, to have a Father as accepting as you must be wonderful. I wish mine had been." Her eyes moistened with the slightest tear.

She reached over and took my hand in hers; her long slender fingers stroked my palm. "My these are real surgeons hands, your nails are better cared for than mine."

At that moment I realized, Fran knew I was a transvestite, "did Harriet tell you?"

"Only after I told her I knew."

"But how?"

"Well I’m hardly new to the subject, but when you took me into dinner I felt your garter tab against my leg and realized that you were wearing stockings. Then your trousers were sliding very easily over your bottom, and that had to be silk or satin. When I found a pair of my satin bloomerettes missing, Harriet owned up. Were they comfortable by the way? Maybe you’re wearing them tonight."

I knew my face was crimson with embarrassment, I felt totally humiliated not knowing where to look. Her hand tightened about my fingers. There was deep concern in her eyes.

"I’m so sorry James, I really didn’t mean too embarrass you, please forgive me."

I was still shaken by her question, less through embarrassment than the fear that I might loose the one person I felt I could love. I smiled somewhat sheepishly, "It’s O.K. Fran, it was the shock of being told."

"Oh poor James, I didn’t to expose you in public like this, perhaps we should find something else to talk about?"

"No really Fran, it’s fine, and really it wonderful to be able to talk about my second self. With Rachel it was totally open, with Greg too. However there is a difference in age we don’t share quite the same taste in fashion. I must compliment you on your choice, is a Dior?"

"Thank you and it is, I was in Paris two months ago and bought it there. Oh this is fun, to be able to go on a date and find someone who will discuss clothes with me. I really love being with you James." Fran looked quite serious for a moment. "When you came to Harriet’s and went out with Grace you wore stockings and underwear?" I flushed slightly and nodded my head.

Fran continued. "At work you normally wear them beneath your suit?" She continued as I said in a puzzled voice. "Yes."

No" I couldn’t understand where this was leading.

"I thought about it last night, and thought I’m really depriving you of a lot of joy of taking me out." Fran reached into her bag, removing a long flat gray package. "James please take these to the men’s room and change into them."

I looked at her in puzzlement; Fran’s eyes looked steadily into mine.

"Please you’ll make me very happy."

Not sure what was in the package, and still puzzled I decided to carry out her wishes. The toilet was completely empty; to ensure I wouldn’t be disturbed I used the end one and carefully opened the package. There carefully packed in tissue were a pair of the sheerest silk stockings, a tiny silk and lace garter belt, satin cream French knickers, and a matching camisole. My hands were trembling and for a moment my eyes filled with tears at Fran’s thoughtfulness and understanding. Carefully I undressed in the confines of the cubicle, never the most romantic of places, tonight it didn’t matter.

Each garment was a perfect fit, and I have never been so excited as the silk and satin slid into place. The knickers were the most difficult, I have put satin panties up my legs a thousand times, but never had I been so excited as on this occasion. They were delightful confection of satin and lace, but their uniqueness lay in the giving. Fran’s gesture had raised me to an emotional high that made donning them extremely difficult.

I carefully checked to ensure that everything was in place, place my silk boxers in the waste tin and returned awkwardly to the table, thank goodness it was dimly lit. Fran’s smile had a wicked glint as she watched me carefully seat myself.

"You liked my gift James?"

My reply caught in my throat, my voice cracked with emotion as I managed. "Oh thank you so Fran, they’re wonderful, but why?" I couldn’t help a small tear coming from my left eye.

She reached forward, one slender finger gently wiping the moisture clear of my eye. "James I wanted you to know that I understood completely. Now to be practical did they fit?"

I took her hand. "Perfectly."

"Are you sure, you looked a little uncomfortable as you were sitting down?"

"You know exactly why that happened I’m sure."

"Hmm, I’ll take that under consideration, are they any more comfortable now."

"No they aren’t and as long as I sit here looking at you, they won’t be. I love you Fran. The moment I saw you, it happened."

"It was exactly the same for me. I’ve never felt this way before, it must be love."

We sat there holding hands; time seemed to stand still. Then Fran said, "I’d like to meet your other half. What is her name?"

For a moment I wasn’t sure what she meant, then realization, "Jasmine."

"Wow, how exotic. Oh I want to meet her as soon as possible, no more than that I want to take her out."

The thought of being out in public with Fran filled me with quivering excitement. I had adored the trips with Rachel; taking Grace out on Sunday had made me so envious.

"I’d love too Fran, but it is so difficult, with Rachel leading so many charities I just became too well known. I can’t think of anything more exciting. " Then I blushed, "accept for one other thing."

Her fingers tightened on mine. "My thoughts as well, my darling we need some time to explore all ourselves. I have tickets for the Marriage of Figaro on Saturday night. I’d love Jasmine to come with me."

"Fran I’d love to, but there will too many of my friends there I’m sure to be recognized I just can’t risk it this stage."

"This one is Seattle opera company, I’m sure you’ll be safe there."

 

Chapter Ten

We decided to make a weekend of it and drive up there on Friday night. Spend Friday night relaxing and have a dress night at the opera. It was an opening night go evening gowns were in order. Fran had to help me out of the restaurant. What with wearing her wonderful presents and the thought of the coming weekend as Jasmine with her I had an erection that refused to subside. It was very late when I reached her home, and with a serious operation early in the morning I had to forgo the offer of coffee. Fran had been playful in the car, sliding her hand beneath my shirt and exciting my nipples through the satin camisole. As her other hand slid along my thigh, I warned her that my body was on a hair trigger, I almost exploded as she gently felt me through the satin panties.

""I’m not sure about the rest of Jasmine, but this part is certainly not tiny. I’ll have to leave it alone for the next two days but I want to explore it completely after then.

Two days the hours passed at snail like pace. I’m always busy, rarely does a good surgeon have much spare time, and I’m reputed to one of the best. I was working flat out, but still those two days took an age too pass. It agreed that Fran would take her car, we’d leave late afternoon which would bring us to Seattle around seven o’clock. Time to change, have dinner, then let whatever take its course.

Male clothes were forbidden, "I want Jasmine for the weekend, not James. Well not all of her, there’s one part I don’t want to miss out on." She had said with an impish giggle.

I visited my hair stylist, and asked for her special cut. The result was Patti at her best, in the male comb back it was not too obvious. Sweeping in the other way it was perfectly feminine. Determining what I’d take was the next problem, it was ridiculous, I’m known for decisive nature. My career does not allow vacillation, but I was having difficulty in deciding what to wear. It too almost three hours, laying all the items out on the bed before a final decision was reached. On Friday morning I heard the security buzzer, and Yvette with a small parcel.

"Miss Fran sent this for you, she says you might need it today." Before she parted with a giggle that indicated she might know what lay within. Opening I found a note and a cream silk and lace confection, which the note explained was a ‘gaffe’, and gave instructions for donning it.

Luckily the day was relatively light, and by early afternoon I was home preparing. My staff had been surprised at the speed of the weekly meeting, normally not a long affair but this weeks was very brief. I had time to bathe and relax. I tried to lie in the scented water but after a few minutes I gave up, what lay ahead kept me on the edge of excitement, so after drying and scenting myself I began to dress.

I’d decided on a white satin waspie, there were several hours to spend in the car, so I wanted to be reasonably comfortable. It defined my waist nicely, and with the satin bra and breast forms my figure would appear very feminine. Cream silk stockings slid sensuously up my legs, I looked at gaffe, and it would match my underwear. I followed the instructions, this one didn’t require tucking my genitalia between my legs. It would work by holding my member tightly against my stomach. Well at least that would be more comfortable.

My panties were the one Fran had given me at our dinner, the thought of her well-considered gift that night sent a surge of blood through my more sensitive parts. It was the first test for the gaffe, which didn’t budge; well at least I knew it worked. I had decided on a trouser suit for traveling, it was one Rachel had never worn, in a dark cream soft raw silk. It was a shimmery look about it and I knew it really suited my coloring. The jacket was high cut, and didn’t require an under blouse, but I felt more comfortable as I drew on a deep gold satin camisole. The trousers were full cut, with two inset pleats at the waist. A pair of low-heeled cream leather shoes completed my outfit. I swept my hair into place and let it settle in soft waves.

My makeup usually takes a few minutes, but today I kept making the stupidest mistakes. Mascara clots on one eye, a lipstick on crooked, all caused by excited trembling hands. At last it was correct and with a sprits of "Opium" I was ready. Almost at the same moment the security monitor bleeped, through the opened gate came Fran’s silver BMW.

"Wow," was her first word. "You look terrific, we really don’t need to out of town. No

one would recognize you, Doctor James is a good-looking guy. However he doesn’t compare with Jasmine, goodness you a real knockout. It’s easy to see where Grace gets her looks and style from."

This was great for ego, particularly when it came from such a beauty, Fran looked terrific, and the dress was in pink silk, very demure. Long sleeves, the dress fitted loosely to her body, skimmed her high breasts, slender waist, and rounded very feminine hips. Every time she moved the supple fabric molded against her body, emphasizing her femininity. The neckline was almost prim, a ‘peter pan’ collar with a white bow. Cream silk stockings glistened on her shapely legs and she wore a pair of low-heeled loafers.

"Mmm I want a kiss." It start as a simple greeting but the moment we touched lips, and our passion we emerged for air, Fran pressed her body against mine.

"Well it proves the ‘gaffe’ works." She said with an impish smile.

"It wasn’t for the wanting of trying." I replied ruefully.

I asked about her family, why she and Harriet were still living together. Fran paused then our eyes touched; "I don’t talk about that very often." She paused, "but I’d like to tell you."

I looked through the window as Fran began. Clear of the city, evening was beginning to fall. The Sun just below the horizon was allowing long golden shadows to lengthen. Above the scattered clouds were going through a rainbow of colors. It was a beautiful evening, bringing tranquillity to both of us.

"Harriet was fifteen when I was born. She had loved her mother with a passion, Beatrice my mother was adored by all who knew her, she was a gentle caring person, and Harold my father worshipped her. There was a particular closeness between Harriet and my mother. They were not only mother and daughter but also the very best of friends. Mother was forty-two when I was born, too old it was thought for another child. I’m not sure what went wrong, but two days later she was dead.

Harriet was heart broken, she’d lost her mother and gained a screaming baby. The worst hit was my father, no matter how he was consoled; he could not reconcile himself to her death. He died in a traffic accident two months later. Although it was recognized as an accident, most that knew Father were sure he had deliberately killed himself

The burden fell on Harriet to care for me, and I learned she wanted to. We had inherited a fortune; father had been a successful developer, and knowing Harry she would have made a wonderful mother/sister. It was a combination of the authorities and father’s brother, Henry who prevented it. Henry was totally unlike Papa, and his aim was to get control of our inheritance.

We lived there for three years, that’s how long it took Harriet to get free. During that time she was continually abused by Uncle Henry and raped twice by he and his son. Papa’s other brother refused to listen to her neither would her lawyer. It was only when Harry met Margaret Jones, who she is seeing at the moment did we manage to escape his clutches. Margaret helped Harriet in every way, she was a radical lawyer, and it probably cost her legal career but she forced the government agency to give Harriet her freedom and mine.

Harriet still has an abiding hatred of the male sex. She didn’t want you to operate on her, she searched all over for a woman surgeon, but everyone insisted you were the best. Now you can do no wrong, you are the first male, leaving Linsey aside to enter our house. You my dear, have a magic charm."

After talking about Harriet Fran switched the subject back to me, she was a very sympathetic listener and it was not long before I was talking about my problems with Grace. It did not take long to unburden I, of how Greg had discovered me that night and what had followed. I had intended to avoid talking about Grace’s sexuality and her advances, but it seemed so natural to talk to Fran, to be able to discuss the most intimate problems. She was not shocked, on the contrary accepted it as a teenagers searching for identity and congratulated me on my caring approach.

I explained the enormous feeling of guilt from the lust I had for Grace. To me it seemed so wrong to feel that way about your own flesh and blood. On the contrary Fran insisted my feelings were normal, Grace was an extraordinarily beautiful girl. Most parents have similar feeling for beautiful children; it became very wrong when they couldn’t control their desires.

"You were very caring and moral in what you did. Grace is most fortunate in having you as a father."

 

Chapter Eleven.

It was exactly eight o’clock when we drew into the hotel. It was difficult not to jump out of the car, as James would normally do. Instead I sat and allowed the door to be opened, then as gracefully as possible slid out. I was glad I had chosen a trouser suit, it was less intimidating this way, than trying to keep my skirt riding up. Next time, I’ll try that, one step at a time.

Therefore, Miss Masterman and Miss Balson-Cox signed in. I knew by this time my companion had a wicked sense of humor. Fran had told me she’d used another name for me Leshame was rather unusual, but really, Balson-Cox!

It was a suite high above the sound and through the floor length windows the water looked like dark blue satin. "Two bedrooms Fran?"

"I like some space Jas, but I certainly don’t intend sleeping alone. They have probably surmised we are gay women, but there is no harm in observing some proprieties, besides there are two showers. I want one before changing for dinner."

"I selected an ivory satin jumpsuit, it had slim spaghetti shoulder straps, and although it was only semi fitted, the bias cut fabric clung like a second skin to my body. Wearing it on it’s own I felt too exposed, so over it I wore a sheer tank cut tunic in embroidered chiffon. The tunic was split on each side to the shoulders and made the outfit sexually demure. Even with the tunic I would have never attempted wearing it without the gaffe securely in place. A pearl barrette lifted my hair on one side and accessories were complete with a triple strand collar of pearls about my neck. With gold satin strap sandals and a matching clutch bag I was ready for dinner.

Fran was in a black satin strapless jumpsuit, with a chiffon tunic side slit from the bust, floe She looked beautiful, sexy and elegant all at the same time. The supple fabric flowed about her body with every movement. If there had been a misplaced curve or an ounce too much fat on her body, the jumpsuit would have shown it. She was nothing less than perfection.

"What do think?" She said pirouetting before me.

I swept her into my arms, "you’re absolutely gorgeous. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. I love you so much." Fran kissed me lightly on the lips.

"I think we should go to dinner now, otherwise with the way I’m feeling now, we’ll never get there."

The last time Jasmine had been to a restaurant was in London, so I had forgotten what it was like. The effect of two very attractive (placing modesty aside) women entering brought a silence and the heat of a dozen pairs of male eyes mentally undressing us as we proceeded to our table.

Somehow during our time together, we had finished up talking about me. Fran’s work in the psychology of gender dysporia had been all consuming over the last ten years. There had been no social life outside Harriet.

"But why? You’re so beautiful, you must have had a thousand offers."

"Not quite a thousand, but you’re right. There were a lot, but I wasn’t interested until I met you my darling. Besides Harriet and Linsey love you as well. That was important when I knew what my sister had gone through."

We were drinking coffee and cognac when I told Fran this was the second time Cox had become my nom de plume, and told her of my birthday present from Rachel.

"She must have really loved you to bring another girl into the party."

"Well it wasn’t actually a girl, we did share her that night."

"Not a girl, I don’t understand?"

"I was certain Simone was a girl when we met for dinner, it was only in the bedroom I found out she was a gorgeous shemale."

For a moment Fran looked nonplused, and I was certain my revelation had upset her. Almost immediately her moment of discomfort vanished. "How did you feel, somehow I’ve never thought of you and Rachel and group sex."

"It was the only time. I’d never initiate it we always enjoyed the most wonderful loving sex together. This was Rachel’s birthday present to me."

"Did you enjoy the experience?"

"We both did, it was so exciting making love to Simone because Rachel was with me, making love after that became more exhilarating."

"If it been another girl?"

"I’m certain it would not have been as exciting Simone was so exotic. Another girl, with me dressed as a woman would have made me uncomfortable."

"Are you uncomfortable now darling. You dressed as a woman and with me."

"No of course not, I’ve never felt happier and more relaxed"

"Was it just curiosity, or the need to make love to a freak. Did you feel Simone was an exotic aberration to while away some time with?"

"No of course not, a freak? The thought never crossed my mind; she was a very beautiful and interesting person Fran. No I didn’t feel she was anything but someone who joined in to make a wonderful evening."

Fran appeared to relax more, she had been uneasy when we’d talked about Simone, maybe it was too close to her cousin Linsey’s predicament. I had a distinct impression she had been on the verge of telling me something, before I had started talking about our time in London. That moment seemed to have past, I didn’t want to press her, she’ll tell me when she’s ready I thought.

I felt so much love for her I was ready to burst, I reached across and took her hand, and brought it too my lips. Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she gently extricated.

"I don’t think that’s a good idea my love. We are getting enough strange looks as it is, we don’t want to confirm what they are thinking. Come, let’s go to bed."

She took my hand as we exited the table, and I could the envy from both sexes as we left, catching a whispered phrase or two as we passed through. "Such a waste, they can’t find a man." "Two women like that disgusting."

I suppose it was fortunate we were not alone in the lift, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.

 

Chapter Twelve.

In the bedroom we fell upon one another, lips hungrily seeking the other, tongues entwined, bodies pressed together my hands scrambling for her breasts.

Fran managed to free herself breathlessly from my lips.

"My darling, it might be romantic to tear our clothes off, but this cost a fortune, give me a moment to remove it."

Fran released the zipper on my jumpsuit, allowed it to slide into a silken pool at my feet, she eyed the swollen parcel of cream silk and lace beneath my panties.

"Goodness you are worked up, just as well those ribbons held my love all there would have been some very confused people in the restaurant. I never seen a gaffe so overworked."

Tantalizingly her lips covered mine and her tongue entered my mouth, twining sensuously about mine, a

slender red tipped hand slid beneath the waistband of my satin panties. Gently she squeezed my silk shrouded swollen appendage, gasped the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

"Mmm, we’d better get this little fellow out into the open."

Releasing it, Fran slid my panties from about waist and they my jump suit in the silken puddle at my feet, her body slithered sensuously against as she reached behind me and unfastened the ribbons. No longer contained with the silken prison my most sensitive part sprang free. I know that I’m better than average in this department but tonight with Fran’s touch and than excitement of the day I had grown.

"My god, not so little. Darling I never knew you were so large, oh you’re so beautiful.

I removed my stockings, as Fran released the laces in the corsolette. She pressed against me holding my penis in her slender hand and kissed me on the lips. That moment was so exciting it took all my control not to let go. Then still holding me she turned. "undo my clothes please darling." The satin jumpsuit slid from her body and with trembling excited fingers released her from the corsolette. Still in her panties she skipped away, saying. "I’ll be back in a moment"

I drew the bedcover, exposing red silk sheet and slid onto them, luxuriating in the slithery feel of the silk. Glancing up, there was my image captured in an overhead mirror, an almost a perfect picture of female sexuality. The image marred only by the flatness of my smooth rounded chest and by the alien protrusion between my legs reflected in the red silk. The lights dimmed as Fran shadowy body still in slid into bed alongside me. She snuggled closer wrapping her arms about me holding me close. Her lips met mine , I started to move my hands down, Fran caught my wrists.

"No, not yet my breasts first".

With my eyes now adjusted to the dim light I was face to face with her flawless breasts. the color of clotted cream, they were high , small and firm as soft peaches. The nipples were unusual, the aureoles covered a third of her breast beginning as the lightest pink and deepening into a deep warm pink as they reached the nipples. These were aroused, firm and swollen standing an inch out from the creamy cones.

My lips suckled reached hungrily on them, nipping them gently, and breathing in the wonder and heavenly scent of the beauty. Her hands played with my childlike imitation of hers. I groaned enviously at her complete femininity wanting to feel the womanly softness that had been hers from birth. Her closeness and touch of her soft body had made me painfully rock hard, the thought of entering her moist cleft made the lust almost unbearable.

Her hands touched my hardness, her fingers softly caressed me to an almost unbearable exquisite pain. I whispered against. "no more or I’ll come.

"We can’t let that happen." Fran said pressing her body tightly against mine. My hands snaked downwards caressing her silken body. I reached the juncture of her hips, Fran had her legs pressed tightly together, there was no way I could enter the longed for warm moist cleft.

"Darling I haven’t been entirely honest with you." She whispered in my ear, I sensed fear in her voice.

"Honest, I don’t understand, what do you mean? Nothing could contain my desire.

"I wanted to tell you but I was too afraid, I love you and didn’t want to lose you."

I could feel moisture on my cheek, and Fran began to silently sob. "There you have to know!" There was a sense of defiance as swept her legs apart.

Almost involuntary my hand slid between them. Instead of the moist cleft it met a smooth quivering shaft of flesh. I withdrew as if stung; it was an involuntary action, the shock of finding that Fran was a man. At once she tried to leap from the bed.

"You hate me, let me go. " The sobs were pitiful, her whole body quivering. My arms tightened, refusing to release her.

"Don’t Fran, please don’t go, I love you."

"You can’t bear to touch me, oh I should never have come."

"Darling Fran, don’t push me away, please it was the shock. I never considered that you were a man. I still can’t believe it." Gradually the trembling in her body lessened, her sobs quieted.

"You meant it, you love me?"

"From the minute I saw you.

"You thought I was a woman then."

"In my mind you are Fran the person I love. You’ll always be woman to me, my darling. Always my Fran."

She wriggled lovingly in my arms; her lips sought mine we were once more lovers. I reached for the dimmer, turning the room from darkness into a soft dim lover’s glow. Confident now she wriggled from my arms. Legs wide lying wanton on the red silk. She was so gorgeous, her hair a red gold halo about the exquisite face. Her smile beckoning, my eyes ran over her breasts, onto her rounded thighs into the alien flesh between her legs. It was like the rest of Fran, very feminine. Instead of the veined empurpled shank. Hers’ was a smooth shaft, rising like a larger version of her exquisite nipples, a cream smooth shaft of flesh deepening to a dusky rose near the tip. Even roused as it was now, her member was dainty and beneath it were two perfect spheres contained in pink silk purse. I gazed in awe; even her male sex was so delicately feminine.

I could not contain myself but slipped down the silk to place my lips about it. Fran writhed as my lips slipped over the tip, and I slowly let her slide into my throat. Reflex action made me gag; with Rachel I’d enjoyed oral sex but till now never even contemplated it with a male. My image of Fran was female and between my lips was her clitoris a slim six-inch shaft of firm smooth pulsing flesh. Her hands were about my head her fingers running through my hair, I could feel her body tensing with pleasure, her firm bottom clenching pushing upwards seeking further envelopment. I pushed my tongue forward, past my lips, a trough caressing the underside of her clitoris. Then the tip of my tongue stroked the silken bag of her spheres; the pleasure was too much as Fran’s well burst.

"Ohh, Ohh, no, no yes oh yes, yes. "

The meaningless cries of pleasure as she jetted deep into my throat. I swallowed and swallowed and swallowed once more. Her clitty might be slender but it was copious, if it had contained a gallon I would have continued, I loved her so much. It gave a final contraction and the last drops spurted forth. What remained in my mouth was acrid but not overly unpleasant. Fran twisted her fingers into my hair pulling me up her body. I pressed against her gorgeous breasts as our lips met. Her tongue entered my mouth, savored the moisture.

"Hm, is that me? Doesn’t taste very nice. Oh my poor darling, you had to swallow it all."

She reached down, her fingers finding my relentlessly hard member. The lust and passion I felt was almost unbearable.

"Please love me, I want you in me, I want to feel all of you."

Fran slid a silk pillow behind her back, lifting her bottom on to it. She opened her legs wide pulling them back until she was almost sitting on her heels, her body open and inviting. I slid backwards, my lips touching those magnificent breasts. Her fingers guided my rigid member towards and into her rosette. I could feel her bottom twitching and quivering in anticipation.

"I’m nicely lubricated darling, but be gentle."

My tip nuzzled at the tight puckering, as I gently eased her apart. Fran wriggled her hips, and I felt myself enter her fluttering opening, another wriggle another inch. My god the tightness, the silken muscles grasped pulled and squeezed. The pleasure was so intense I could have died. She shook her breasts beneath my lips; "more or you get no further." As my lips stroked her swollen nipples, her bottom wriggled beneath me and I was completely within her silken love tunnel.

"Oh darling, that’s so wonderful." She said.

I pulled and slowly, slowly withdrawing, until the tip was just inside her, then again pushed for until I was deep inside. I was in a new world my taut member was held by her muscled-ridged rosette, as it gripped and then released him. I moved forward touching her prostate, her whole body began shivering as her orgasm began. Now I was drawn wire tight, fighting for control, waiting for that moment of simultaneous eruption, the pleasure was almost unbearable. Then Fran’s whole body began shuddering.

"Yes, yes, yes Yes! Now, Now, now, NOW!!

The satin flesh seized and twisted, now I was beyond any control, riding high within an enormous wave amongst the foaming surf, he was swept onto the reef. From deep within my semen boiled, erupting, bursting, and crashing from me fiery as a jet of white-hot lava. Somewhere I heard a long drawn out scream of pleasure an "Ooh, ooh, yes, ‘yes YES!! " The sound echoed endlessly about the room. A mantra of pleasure, I realized it was my own cry of ecstasy.

Sometime later I used a soft wash cloth to freshen both of us, before we slipped into silk nightgowns. Fran giggled as I wrapped her in my arms.

"My you’ve got the biggest clitty of any girl I’ve seen. Please be careful with it, I want to use it a lot more."

Sunlight showed about edges of the drapes as I struggled to consciousness, I was alone, then the sound of water splashing in the bathroom. Drawing the drapes, light flooded the bedroom; the morning was beautiful sunshine glinting on the breeze tossed water. She returned from the bathroom looking even more beautiful this morning, the sleep had tousled her hair into a wanton look.

"Hmm, how are big boy, still looking for some action?" She took my hand, then we were seated on the large silk cover settee. "I love you, that was wonderful last night, I never thought it could be so wonderful."

"You never thought! I don’t understand, are you saying that was the first time?"

She looked at me in surprise, "of course my love, how would it be anything else?

I’ve never met anyone I loved before. Well what now, I hope you’re not tired." Her hand stroked my engorged appendix through the satin nightgown. "Looks like you’re ready to play."

"I can’t help it Fran my love. As soon as I see you I’m erect, it’s automatic."

"Well don’t let us waste it." She lifted my nightgown and straddled me Her long shapely legs outside of mine. Our lips touched, her tongue entered mine and we began a French kiss, as her tongue pursued mine, her bottom squirmed. Wriggling her hips she worked her rosette over my quivering member, spiraling down until it was poised over my now quivering tip. I entered her as her muscle squeezed and relaxed, and then as though it was completely rehearsed she slid effortlessly down my shaft. The sensation bought a simultaneous cry of ecstasy from both of us. This time we were in tune our bodies played the sensations until we were overtaken by the most incredible passion and exploded simultaneously, catching Fran’s copious discharge in my cupped hands

 

 

Chapter Thirteen.

It was an another hour before we enjoyed breakfast together. I suggested we use room service.

"No I want to show you off. This time my girl I want you in a skirt, no more slinking about in trousers."

We agreed on the "classic" style I’d bought a simple V necked with a crossover bodice. With long slim sleeves and a narrow skirt with a self colored slender belt. The fabric was heavy silk, which draped fabulously and was in a mid green color. I pushed the sleeves slightly up my arms donned a heavy gold bangle and gold choker chain. I’m not sure whether it was the result of all the sex or just being in love, but with all modesty I had to agree with Fran. I did look fabulous.

Her choice was a relaxed jacket and skirt in champagne colored crepe. The jacket was fastened to the neck, and very slim cut showing off that terrific figure. The skirt was calf length covering up, but hinting at her shapely legs beneath. Entering the dining room we drew the usual appreciative glances, by this times it was rather welcoming, a reminder that the "look" was working.

Then it was downtown, the shop front was discreet "FIGURES", and I didn’t know what to expect. Inside it was clear, undergarments of all sorts. Corselettes, bras, waspies, breast augmentation all the help for the figure was certainly there. The shop was tastefully decorated, the undergarments arranged beautifully on silk or satin drapes.

"May I help you Madame?" The assistant was very pretty, dressed in a well suit. "Oh I’m sorry Miss Masterman for a moment I didn’t recognize you."

"Good morning Janet, This is Miss Jasmine Balson-Cox yes we’ve come to look at those new breast pads please, the ones you mentioned in your latest catalogue."

"The ones feathering in, and matched to the skin color?"

"That’s right, Miss Balson-Cox feels she needs a little help in that area and the new corselette I’d ordered. "

"That’s for Miss Balson-Cox, Miss Masterman?" Her surprise was evident.

"Of course, I hope you’ll excuse me. I find it so difficult too believe."

Fran took me to a well-appointed dressing room explaining the enterprise was part of Masterman Investments, Harriet being the President. Without Fran’s presence I would have been very embarrassed appearing undressed in front of the assistant. However Janet treated the fitting so matter of factly. Fitting the corselette adjusting the waistline and a further adjustment to the attached cache-sexe. It was a built in pouch like arrangement that would tuck my parts neatly into the garment and hide any excitement.

Whilst the final adjustments were made in the workshop Janet began fitting some breast pads.

"I’d suggest 34A for Madam, that would give the best balance on her slim figure." Said Janet.

"Can’t we go larger?" Said Fran.

"Maybe 34B, if you wish but I wouldn’t advise any larger Miss Masterman. Her hips are quite slender."

I felt rather left out of the conversation, as I stood covered only by a thin satin robe. "I prefer a high smallish bosom than a large one. That is if I’m allowed to choose", I said knowing a touch of annoyance had crept into my voice.

"Oh darling I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me." Said Fran.

"Let’s make it the B, I’ll pretend to be Pamela Anderson."

"Could I suggest the latest model, that reacts off the wear’s nipples. They are very realistic; they transmit all the excitement through a sensitive gel. From what I understand it works in both directions."

"I do like the sound of those," and with that the fitting began. It was fascinating; first the careful color matching using swathes of skin like materials. Then the careful mixing of two chemicals to produce the shading with the breast forms. They were colored from the inside out and the coloring could be adjusted if my skin tone altered. The nipples and aureoles coloring was adjusted separately and I chose the gorgeous shading of Fran’s for my own.

"Hmm just like looking in a mirror. " She commented as Janet affixed them one by one to my chest. My own nipples fitting into soft edged tight fitting "O" rings. Fran squeezed one of the breast form nipples and I could feel the sensual pressure on my own.

Janet used a brief flash of ultra violet to harden the adhesive then carefully adjusted the positioning, I felt a momentary discomfort as it tightened against my skin and then incredibly I could feel their weight moving softly as I moved. The sensation sent a tingle through my body and I watched, amazed, as the two nipples began to push outwards. The material at the edges of was so fine to be almost invisible and no powder was required to blend them in.

We were at FIGURES for almost two hours, by that time were ready for a simple lunch. Before we left I arranged for Grace’s measurements to be sent. I was certain she’d appreciate similar garments. I’ll always remember those first steps it was as though someone had completely rejigged my body, there was extra weight in my chest area, and boy did they jiggle. My previous pads were fitted into the bra, so any weight was carried on my shoulders> Now the bounced up and down with every step, the weight pulling on my skin, it was a very sensual feeling particularly about the nipples.

By the time we’d reached the restaurant the evidence of my pleasure was quite apparent in the dimpling of the silk dress.

"I’m glad we took the smaller size, any larger and you will be facing indecency charges."

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

Changing that evening was so much more fun; it was a first night so glamour was in order. The new corsolette was the fist requirement and Fran insisted it be pulled right to the last notch. I gave an ooff as she made me grasp the doorknob whilst she tugged the laces tight.

"For goodness sake Fran, this is feeling uncomfortable already, how am I expected to last the night, with it this tight?"

"Oh my poor darling, I hope I haven’t been too cruel, but you need your waist this size to wear the dress. Anyway you said, tight corsets made you all horny and wanted to see it was true."

I was feeling embarrassed now, because it was turning out to be really true. My member had become turgid and I hoped the new "gaffe" was as good as Janet claimed. My stockings slid up my legs with the slithery sensuousness that only pure can give. Next the satin butterfly panties that Fran insisted I wear tonight. There was no slip. "What about the gaffe, shouldn’t that be adjusted next?" It was yet to pulled between my legs and fastened to produce a smooth if slightly prominent mons Veneris.

"Not yet my gorgeous one, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, that can wait until we are about to leave. Now lets try the gown."

I stepped into the dress; it was a very dramatic gown. A dark blue satin with a silk organza over skirt. It was "Flamenco" styled. Held by spaghetti thin straps with fluttery off the shoulder empire bodice and a ruffled hem that dipped from the knee to a short floor length train. My shoes were delicate satin strap sandals with four inch heels the color exactly matching my gown. Fran fastened the gold choker chain with matching bracelet and earrings and I was ready. Something was required to eliminate the unfeminine tent in the front of my gown.

Fran took a few minutes to slide into her slim sheath gown. It was beautiful; a shimmering column in slate colored velvet with a fishtail hem. The pale champagne chiffon bodice fitted closely suspended by thin straps and was scattered with beads. Her beauty almost took my breath away. She slipped slender heels matching velvet pumps onto her feet.

"How do I look, as gorgeous as you lover?"

"I never seen anyone so lovely, you’re absolutely beautiful."

"You are a sweet talker, I’ll bet you say that to all the girls you take to bed." Her arms were about me, her body pressing, rubbing gently against my swollen appendage. Her gaffe was not in place either, I could see Fran was also tenting her gown. "Hmm we’ll have to something about this. She bent down and spreading her arms wide took the hem of her down and careful not to crease it pulled it high at the rear, Then bent over a narrow antique table, spreading the gown over her back.

I’ve never seen anything as erotic as those creamy rounded cheeks, partly covered in black satin butterfly panties, tautly stretched suspenders, the silk stockings disappearing into the high heeled shoes all framed by the dark gray velvet skirt. Her face looked back at me, the smile impish.

"This is an invitation my darling."

Still rather stunned, I hiked my skirt above my hips very much aware of the silk slithering over my satin covered bottom.

"Spread the skirt carefully my darling we don’t want you looking crumpled when we leave."

Now I could see nothing beyond the silk and velvet skirts, covering Fran’s bottom. I felt her hand reach between her legs and soft fingers guide me between creamy globes into her pink rosette. My member was rock hard, already quivering, never have I been so close to a climax before entry. A cry burst from my lips, "I can’t stop I’m coming."

"Don’t you dare, I’m not ready yet."

Somehow I choked my explosion; it was a time of the most exquisite pain and pleasure, my entire body awash with magical awareness. The swoosh of silk the constriction of my corsets that incredible tightness as I progressed through her silken canal. The journey seemed to take forever as Fran tightened and loosened her luscious satin tunnel. The journey was timeless, minutes, hours a journey of sensuousness, wanting to continue forever, but desperate for that most exquisite of pleasures to end. At the same moment I felt my sac caress hers, a fantastic squeeze, and I knew I’d touched her prostate.

Her yelp of delight indicated journey’s end. Her tightness increased and Fran’s whole body quivered. She grasped and regrasped me, and at that moment said. "Yes oh yes, now my love." There was nothing I could have done to stop my climax, it gushed forth as the most marvelous feeling. Time was lost; hours or minutes passed it didn’t matter.

Fran handed me a moistened towel, I gently eased from her careful to avoid and mess. As I cleaned myself, she carefully inserted a tampon.

"That was so wonderful my darling you seemed even bigger. You really filled me that time, and I’m not letting your juices go. I want to feel them all through the opera."

Bending Fran removed a partly filled condom from her clitty, wrapping it in a paper towel and disposed of it. She looked at the surprise on my face. "I didn’t want anything on dress." She fastened her cache-sexe, adjusted her silk stocking and smoothed her skirt. Apart from a satisfied smile and a dreamy look in her eye, once again she was sophisticated and elegant.

I still held my skirt raised, Fran knelt and adjusted my cache-sex, her fingers ensuring the fit would be comfortable. I lowered the skirt, my member was still partially swollen but there was nothing showing at all. Taking my lipstick, she touched to the side of my lip.

"Ah, that’s perfect."

She took my gloved hand in hers. "Come Miss Balson-Cox it is time for the opera."

 

 

Chapter Fifteen.

The Seattle Opera Company had made the opening of The Marriage of Figaro a gala night. It was the opening of the summer season and the patrons were dressing for the occasion. The forecourt was crowded, a searchlight swept over a large crowd of sightseer’s. As the hired limousine drew to a halt, I felt very nervous. It’s one thing to walk into a restaurant quite another to step into a large crowd; the butterflies in my stomach were really churning as Fran whispered. "Don’t worry darling everything will be fine. I stepped from the limousine thankful for the wide door this was not the time for a display of lingerie and stocking tops.

Once amongst the throng it was quite exciting, we paused in the foyer for a glass of Champagne. I began to enjoy the looks of appreciation we were receiving. There was no disguising that we were blonde and probably the most beautiful there. I had overcome my initial shock and was now quite enjoying being ogled.

The seats were excellent, front row and in the middle. I certainly knew I was wearing a corset, it was tight and constricting but not too uncomfortable. Just before the overture began Fran whispered in my ear.

"I’m still lovely and squishy inside and if I give a little wriggle, it feels as though you’re still there."

They were the most erotic words I’d heard, and I saw her bottom wriggle. Within seconds my cache-sexe was tight as I swelled within it’s confines. My mind was now filled with that glorious episode and it was very difficult to concentrate on the opera. At the interval I watched her delicious bottom move in front of me. Thank goodness my gown draped sufficiently to hide my now rather prominent mons Veneris.

We supped Champagne, while we waited for the second act, I felt absolutely wonderful. Despite the erection I felt completely feminine. The organza brushing against my silk stockings, the soft jiggle of my breasts and the fluttering of the chiffon against my shoulders. I looked at my beautiful companion, and knew I was hopelessly in love.

Throughout the remainder of Figaro I found myself relaxing and really enjoying myself. The voices and music were magnificent, as with most operas the plot was unlikely. The hero, played by a woman, had to assume feminine dress, which she did very well. We adjourned for a late supper at Romano’s. A very romantic setting, high on the cliffs overlooking the water, ideal for those in love. We were very at ease with one another now, comfortable which was surprising after all it was only a week since we’d met.

"Are you still worried about Linsey and Grace?"

"Not now Fran, I would be the greatest hypocrite alive if I was. I’ve spent the most wonder days of my life with what I believed to be beautiful and very sensitive woman. In fact I fell in love with her. Then I found out she was not quite the girl she appeared, and now I’m even more in love. Sure when I first saw Linsey I thought she was very lovely, I still do."

"She is Jassy, Linsey’s is sweet in body and mind. She is very trusting and I know Linsey’s in love. Harriet was worried that it would become too serious too quickly, and that was the reason for the journey to L.A, just a little time to cool off. It won’t work though Linsey was speaking to me yesterday and all we talked about was Grace this Grace that.

"Well that’s two of them, that’s all I get from Grace to."

"I just don’t want Linsey hurt darling, I ‘m certain she’d take it very badly."

"They have my blessing, I can’t promise Grace’s hand, but he’s wildly in love."

"Now that’s fixed, why don’t we go back to the hotel, there’s things I like to try. Including making an honest woman out of you." Fran with a good imitation of a leer.

It is rarely I’m caught flat footed, but this was one of those moments. I flushed red, and literally stuttered. "Do you mean what I think."

"I’m not sure what conclusions you’ve drawn, but you are probably correct, and I promise to be gentle."

As Fran took my hand sitting in the limousine on the way to the hotel a whole new range of thoughts were running through my mind. The thought of becoming the receiver in a sexual encounter had never entered my mind. I recall Rachel twice suggesting the idea of her using a dildoe but I pooh poohed the idea. "Why, when we’ve got the real thing," was my reply. It never occurred to me when we were with Simone, that I’d be on the receiving end. With Grace even our totally unconsummated episodes, I’m sure I would not have even thought of being the recipient.

Fran’s suggestion at first had produced a shock, which I realized was very male oriented. In the last few minutes of sitting next to her my thoughts began to encompass the idea and it was no longer outrageous. In fact my bodily sensations were becoming anticipatory. She seemed to be reading my thoughts.

"Darling, I’ve shocked you!"

"At first Fran, only because I’ve never even considered it. That is why I was so shocked, I’d never thought of it."

"And now?"

"I’m frightened I suppose and I really don’t know why. I’m not afraid in the usual sense; it’s more wondering whether I’ll lose part of my maleness. When you first mentioned it, I thought it outrageous, but with you I want to. The thought is really exciting. Oh it’s all so confusing."

Fran leant over and kissed me. It was a lover’s kiss long and lingering. The driver spotted us through the rear vision mirror and I glimpsed his eyes go skywards in a "not them as well. Why can’t they find a man? "

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

Once in the bedroom Fran fell into my arms, "I love you. That was a wonderful evening. Now excuse me for a moment."

I unzipped my dress, it had been wonderful, and I was amazed that entering the Opera House everything had seemed so normal. I would have never thought it possible to feel quite so at ease in public, particularly at such a gala event. I’d have never managed it my own, but with Fran it had been so easy and natural.

"Could you unlace this corset please?"

It took only moments to release her gorgeous body from the confines. She unclipped the stockings from their clasps and threw the white satin corselette onto the bed. Taking a flimsy black satin and lace garter belt she refastened her stockings.

"I want to make love wearing silk stockings, the thought of it is so sexy."

She freed me from my confines; I glanced in the mirror as I slipped into the garter belt. Was this really me? I looked so different to the image of twenty-four hours ago. Once naked I’d been male, pretty but unmistakably male with my rounded but flat chest. Now above the waist I was as female appearing as Fran. She reached round me; her two hands cupped and lifted them. The sensation was so wonderful, I could feel it right through my body. "Oh that’s so wonderful, it must be incredible to have real ones."

I turned into her arms, my fingers caressing those wonderful nipples; they sprang forth erect and engorged.

"You mean like these, oh yes keep doing that. Oh darling that’s wonderful."

Next minute we were on the bed, Fran’s long legs were entwined with mine, silk smoothly caressing silk. It was so erotic. Her hands lead me down to those wonderful breasts. My tongue and lips circled and held the nipples. "Oh darling more please more." It was both our favorite spot, I marveled at their changing color. Normally the aureoles were a light pink deepening to a dusky pink, as she became more aroused the color deepened the base of the aureoles were a dusky rose and the nipples were a rich hued raspberry.

From the moment her lips had touched mine, consummating our love was a forgone conclusion. Her silky thighs were between mine opening me wide, making me feel submissive and vulnerable. Fran bent forward her nipples brushing my lips, while I sipped on her breasts, my tongue swirling the taut swollen nipples. She placed in my hands a tube of scented lubricant; my action was a Pavolian reaction, taking the slender shaft in my fingers. It felt velvety over the steel like tautness. I shuddered, there would be no mercy, my puckered rosette would not be able to resist her. Fran took a scoop of the cream in her hand, one finger maneuvered through my tight pucker I could not help squeezing tight. "Relax my darling, just relax."

Not even Rachel had penetrated me, and Fran’s finger entering me was more than a surprise as it moved into me, there was pain, then discomfort, and a the gradual warmth began suffusing my body. The shock passed and I was disappointed as she withdrew; now I wanted her to continue. Hurriedly my fingers guided her rigid member until the tip rested against my puckered opening, then simultaneously with her tongue sliding deep into my mouth her organ slipped into my rectum. The pain was back with a vengeance, the tightness of my trembling tunnel accepting her silken tautness Never in all my love making had there been a more precious moment, the exquisite pain made me cry out.

"Oh, Fran Fran, Fran, oh my darling lover."

She continued to lower herself working further and further until I knew I was penetrated to the hilt, I made the tight muscles grip the bottom of her member.

"Oh my god, I can feel you’re filling me, the head is so deep."

The pleasure was exquisite, the pain bearable, Fran was gentle but positive. I felt her silken covered taut sac swing against my bottom. The fresh tightness was so delicious I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

"Oh my darling your bottom is so soft and you’re so tight." Then holding my hips, she worked her straining member smoothly in and out, she pushed her bottom down to meet my upward hip thrust. I closed my eyes in a state of dreamy passion, and as her perfumed hair brushed against my cheek as her body rocked to meet his every stroke. I gasped, my mouth meeting her thrusting tongue as we neared a shattering climax. I was almost beyond control: the stimulation of my prostate with her penis was so exquisite.

Fran was nearing her moment of ecstasy; she was making deep drawn sighs and her body making little trembling motions. Overcome with pleasure she was nearing an orgasm, Fran pushed, and I pushed and squeezed to hold her clitty in my bottom. Then I could feel a throbbing, as she began to spasm. Her juices were flooding me, filling me with ejaculate. My own penis, totally aroused by the touch of Fran’s smooth hands began to spurt and fill her hands with my hot seed.

It was another twenty minutes before either of us wanted to move. Her breasts pushed into mine, her prick still nestles in my bottom. In the end it was the cramp in my leg that made me pull her into my arms. Then we both had a quick wash before donning satin nightgowns. It was so comforting to snuggle against her smooth body for the night.

We made love again in the morning, with me still in the feminine role kneeling on the bed, two large pillows beneath my stomach and Fran taking me from behind. It produced all sorts of new sensations, and we were lucky the hotel rooms are soundproof, otherwise I’m certain security would have broken in. The orgasm was so intense and prolonged I just could not screaming with pleasure. I felt so embarrassed afterwards, but Fran was so pleased with himself. We did manage a last "quickie" in the shower; she again took me from behind. By this time I was really sore, but once she was inside me any pain vanished with the wonderful sensations.

I insisted on wearing trousers, they were just black crepe, with a matching collarless jacket with an asymmetrical closure. Underneath was a long sleeved silk lilac blouse with a gathered wide collar. Somehow after last night I had to regain my equilibrium, I know it sounds silly as I was wearing a corsolette, silk stockings and satin underwear, but I felt less vulnerable in this guise. More in control of my life.

Least night had been a complete watershed, in all my life I have never felt so feminine, so complete as a woman, the experience had been so wonderful that part of my mind said embrace it completely. Another part said wait, draw back a little and learn to grow up with those wonderful feelings and I know that’s the advice I’ll follow. The absolute marvel of Fran is she knows what I’m thinking, well I’m pretty sure she does.

She looks so beautifully feminine in a white silk sheath, long sleeves and a simple V-neck She melted into my arms as she kissed me. Despite the way I was dressed the protective part of my character emerged, I wanted to hold and have her for the rest of my life. I dropped to my knees in the approved manner.

"Fran will you marry me?"

"Oh darling of course I will. I thought you’d never ask."

 

 

Epilogue.

PORTLAND OBSERVER

Society page.

25^th November 2000

Married today in St John’s Church, Doctor James Leshame, and Miss Fran Masterman.

The couple were married in a quiet ceremony attended by close friends and relatives. The bride wore white satin and lace, with a Juliet veil.

Miss Masterman’s bridesmaid was her niece Miss Linsey Masterman in a matching gown.

His son Greg Leshame as bridegroom attended Doctor James Leshame.

Her sister, the well-known socialite, Miss Harriet Masterman, gave the bride away. The couple will settle in Portland after honeymooning in Europe.

 

PORTLAND OBSERVER

Business News.

2^nd February 2001.

It was welcome news for business this morning when the Masterman Research Foundation announced it was shifting from Los Angeles to Portland.

In a statement from the President Miss Harriet Masterman, the foundation intended to further its research into gender and neurological disorders. Doctor Fran Leshame Ph.D. would continue as its director.

In a surprise move, the first male was appointed to previously all female establishment. Doctor James Leshame, the much-respected surgeon will join the board. Miss Masterman welcomed James Leshame saying he would bring a wealth of knowledge and experience to the foundation.

 

PORTLAND OBSERVER.

Society page.

3^rd May 2003.

Doctor Greg Leshame and Miss Linsey Masterman were married today in St John’s Church.

Miss Masterman a fine arts graduate, was attended by Mrs. Fran Leshame as Matron of Honor.

Doctor Leshame will join his Father’s practice following completion of his internship.

The happy couple will live in Portland after a honeymoon in Europe.

 

The End.

 

© 2000
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