Out In The Cold

By

Virginia Kane

 

Part Two

 

In the morning, I told Carla that I’d like to speak with Myra, if I may. I could discern a forlorn look in Carla’s eyes, belying that I didn’t have as much confidence in her as I did in Myra. It could not be avoided. Myra was obviously the sister in charge.

Myra silently allowed me to relate the entire evening’s episode without any interruption. Then, she shocked me by asking what I would like to do. I told her that I honestly didn’t know. She said that as long as I wasn’t adverse to it, I should do it. After all, he wasn’t proposing a personal physical relationship, and if he had, I already told her that animal lust was merely flesh rubbing on flesh to abate emotional needs. What was the harm of that? The sole purpose of engaging in casual sex between consenting adults was purely physical without making emotional attachments. Men and women from all corners of the world did it. Why be upset if two people of the same gender choose to do the same?

I insisted that he wasn’t so inclined, and I wasn’t sure that I would accept his advances, if he made any. I wasn’t about to become the cause of a serious row between him and his wife, to be dragged through the media as the guilty instigator of a socially unacceptable ménage. How I came up with that word, I’ll never know.

She told me not to worry, as his wife concurred with the idea. Meanwhile, I was due to be gainfully employed, as she had predicted, well, almost as she had predicted. She prepared a fresh pitcher of my juice and sent me back to my own apartment, to call the gentleman at his office to advise him of my decision, which I did, much to his eager satisfaction. He had already assumed that I’d agree to his offer and made the arrangements for us to see a baseball game that afternoon, to be followed by dinner with his family.

That threw me back. I didn’t expect I’d be dining with his wife and his daughter, too. For one, she was a teenager. If the wrong impression was made accidentally, she might get the wrong idea. How does one explain being paid to be the companion of another man? This was getting too complex to anticipate.

Nonetheless, we had a great time at the game, with hot dogs, beer, peanuts and all. Joel was a lot of fun to accompany. My anxiety dissipated early in the third inning when our home pitcher struck out his ninth batter. The crowd was ecstatic. With two runs scored in the sixth inning to bolster the other three, the home team coasted to victory. The last time I saw a major league game, I had to walk up to the upper deck. This time, we sat inside a private room with the entire field in full view aided by monitors set up to show the game from different vantages. We took an elevator to the private box from right inside the gate, after being dropped off by the chauffeured limo. Wealth does have its advantages.

Having dinner with Joel’s family was pleasant. I was introduced to his daughter, finally. Joel’s authoritarian wife presented me with a gift. I was about to open it, but she advised me sternly that she rather I open it at home. Of course, I bowed to her wishes, intrigued by her request. Why didn’t she want me to open it at the dinner table? What could it be?

Joel decided to share the ride home with me, as he was going to drop by his office later that evening. He drew the electrically operated privacy screen up, so the driver wouldn’t be aware of our conversation. "Did you have a nice time today?"

"Yes, sir. I had a marvelous time. That two-run homer in the sixth inning was the icing on the cake. I could feel the adrenaline pouring through my spine at the ‘crack’ of the bat."

"We’ll have to do it again some time." He paused, searching my face. "Why don’t you open up your present, now, Phil? I’m dying to know what my wife bought for you. She has excellent taste. Whatever it is, she must want you to know that she approves of you. She rarely makes special trips to buy people gifts on her own, other than for the family. She usually sends the staff out to make purchases for friends and acquaintances."

"I’m deeply honored. She asked that I open it at home. Won’t she be disappointed if we ignore her request and do it now, sir?"

"Please, Phil. Call me Joel when we’re alone. It sounds refreshing from you. My wife simply didn’t want you to open you gift in front of our daughter. Open it up, and you’ll find out why. Come now. Don’t be shy. I’m sure there’s a purpose to it. It’s her way of letting you know how she feels about you being my companion."

I opened the gift-wrapped box, hoping that it wasn’t what I imagined. Lifting the top off, my heart skipped a beat. She had bought me an elaborate western dress shirt with a wide collar and swirls of pearls running top to bottom on either side of the tiny pearl buttons in front. The back was similarly decorated "Wow. I’ve never seen anything like this, Joel. It’s practically effeminate. Where would I wear such a beautiful creation?"

"To the western store where she bought it for you, to get the rest of the riding outfit that she couldn’t buy without knowing your right sizes. I’ll pick you up tomorrow in the early afternoon, before the traffic gets heavy. I’ll arrange a time with the store. Knowing her, she probably tentatively scheduled a fitting for you, in advance. Please say you’ll go."

"How can I refuse without insulting her? I thought we’d only be meeting once a week?"

"Yes, yes. Once we get better acquainted. For now, please indulge me and promise that you will come tomorrow. I’ll have the car pick you up at whatever time you choose, as long as we won’t be caught late in traffic during the rush hour."

"Fine. How does two o’clock sound? I’m sure that I can be available by then."

"Wonderful. In the event I’m be detained by a business appointment, I’ll join you there."

He rested the palm of his hand on my knee, leaving it there to gauge my reaction. Once again, the nagging suspicion of sexual innuendo crept into my mind. I had to try hard to repress it. He was so kind. It was crude of me to think he had lecherous motives.

I decided to let the matter slide. If my suspicions were wrong I could nip the budding new friendship prematurely without cause. He withdrew his hands gracefully, as if it was just an unconscious gesture between friends. When the limo pulled to the curb, I almost ran up the front stairs to the apartment building, after thanking Joel once again for his wife’s generosity and shook his hand goodnight.

++++

I found a note in the morning. Bill was off on a weekend trip with a client. Carla said he was due to return on Monday. Odd that Bill didn’t tell me about it himself. I was sure he’d be bragging about how the women he was seeing were "passionately mad" about him, not that I could blame them. That green-eyed monster named ‘envy’ poked his head out from behind every corner. The many signs of Bill’s being my flat mate reminded me of his garrulous nature and cocky attitude.

As I opened the refrigerator to pour myself a glass of juice, I wondered if his cocktail was responsible for his attractiveness. I was tempted to sample a drink of his juice, instead of mine, to find out if it contained a magic potion of some sort to make him so desirable to women. Ridiculous! Me. a grown man believing in magic. Instead, I filled my glass with the thick vegetable concoction that I noticed tasted better to me since the program began.

At 2:00, I slipped into the limo with my gift under my arm, still in it’s box. Joel’s wife sat inside waiting for me. "Phil. I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to make sure that careless clerk at the clothing store fits your outfit properly. Joel is running late at the office. He’ll join us at the store as soon as he is free."

"Yes, ma’am, I mean no, I don’t mind. I want to thank you for the beautiful shirt. It was a big surprise when I opened the box. I had a few ornate western shirts when I was growing up, but none of them can compare with this one. It brought back pleasant memories of my home on our farm in Indiana. Worries didn’t plague me then, like they do now.

Sometimes, I wish I never left home. Life on a farm is good. The fresh air, the new mown hay, the sound of livestock, the simplicity of nature is breathtaking."

"Yes, I’m sure it has a certain appeal to some people, Phil, but you wouldn’t catch me out on a farm. I like to step with confidence, not worrying about what lies beneath my feet. A careless step on a farmstead would cause me to shudder in panic. I prefer tall buildings dotting my landscape, not towering oaks. It’s far more civilized than an open prairie."

"Of course, ma’am. Why is it, then, that you chose to buy me a western shirt?"

"Oh, that! Joel, that man of mine, comes up with the silliest ideas, sometimes. Imagine. He is fascinated by modern line dancing. Says that it’s the rage. Are you familiar with this form of recreation? I’ve seen demonstrations of it, but it seems far too complex for a man of his age to master. Perhaps, with you rural roots, you could teach him in private, so he won’t make a fool of himself, publicly."

"Oh no, ma’am. Forgive me, but it isn’t difficult to learn, at all. Some steps are tricky, but I could show Joel, I mean Mr. Foster, how to learn some basic patterns in no time."

"Please, Phil. Call my husband: ‘Joel’. I’m sure that he’d prefer you to address him by his first name as much as I do." She put her hand on my knee, just like her husband did in the limo, the night before. Her look made me feel that her request was to be obeyed, or I’d suffer the consequences.

"Joel told me that he’s very fond of you. I’m pleased of his interest in you. He’s been so down in the dumps lately. I want to encourage him to relax and enjoy life more. Since you’ve come along, he’s been in much better spirits. I condole his admiration of you, as long as the two of you don’t too deeply involved and cause trouble for my family. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma’am. You needn’t worry. I’m not gay. I suppose that other escorts are, but this is a temporary resolution to my being out of a job. I intend to resume working as a software compiler, at the earliest opportunity. I must admit that I am worried about the same issue. What shall I do if he does exhibit an interest in physical contact?"

"Why, I’m surprised at you, Phil. Hasn’t he done so, yet?"

"No, ma’am! Thank goodness. He’s no more than put his hand on my knee, just as yours is, now. Are you suggesting that he will?"

"Of course, silly. My, aren’t you the precocious one! Can’t you see? My Joel is infatuated with you. Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s a passing phase he’s in. He’s never strayed before, so I can’t be sure of his true intentions, but my feminine intuition tells me that his feelings for you are far more than casual. I see no harm in cultivating his interest. I will make your doing your part to make him happy worth your while, young man."

"You’ll let him? I don’t understand. Why?"

"Because I won’t tolerate the alternative. Three of my close friends’ marriages were torn apart by tarts that lured their husbands to bed. My Joel is too devoted to me to violate my trust in him never to consort with women of loose morals. Yet, we married young. I sense that he regrets his not having a period of youthful debauchery. I’m not totally unfeeling toward him, but we lost the spark of passionate love, years ago. I won’t sit by now and let some snippet break up my home. My reason for being here is to confirm if you will allow Joel to court you to his delight. If the prospect is offensive, I’ll find someone else, and send you on your way. Needless to say, I’ll report my dissatisfaction to the agency.

On the other hand, if you will continue to be nice to my Joel until he tires of you, I’ll turn in a glowing report to the agency, and provide you with a generous bonus, to boot. How’s that? How would you like positive insurance on that bet you made with your roommate, what’s-his-name, oh, Bill, I believe?"

"Yes, Bill. So, you know about the bet. Sure. Insurance. Sorry. I gave my word that I wouldn’t try to win the bet by devious means. Who told you about the bet?"

"Why, Bill, of course, your adversary. The lad offered to perform sexual service for me if I so desired, so long as I would provide a favorable commentary to the agency and then, recommend him to all of my friends. He’s an egotistical whore without morals or good sense to know propriety. When I asked if he’d go to bed with another man, he didn’t bat an eye. No, he was too willing to be a slave to sex. My Joel would never take interest in such an immoral beast. Both Joel and I found him to be disgusting."

The word ‘disgusting’ swam around in my head. That was exactly how I felt. "Why do you feel I am any different? I agreed to the same bet and training Bill did. In fact, Bill was more reluctant than I, to resort to being paid for offer my companionship to lonely women. Ma’am, you pay me a compliment that I don’t deserve."

"If not for the bet, and the promises you made, not to quit prematurely, you wouldn’t be here. Admit it. You aren’t here because you want to be. You made a desperate choice, in haste, fearful of being cast out by your landlord. Had you found gainful employment and could meet your responsibilities, you’d likely be busy searching for true love and lifelong happiness, not cavort with a mature couple who want to take advantage of circumstances to fulfill their own purposes.

Phil, I truly admire you. I wouldn’t like to see you get hurt. I should offer to pay off your debts and give you a chance to make something of yourself. If I do that, I won’t solve the slight problem I’m having with Joel. I can’t let him continue to feel sorry for himself for marrying me. Won’t you help us, willingly?"

"I guess. Sure. What is it that you want of me? Believe me, I don’t savor having sex with a man, even a nice one, like Joel. If there’s a way to avoid it, I’d much rather stick to being your husband’s platonic companion."

"So would I, dear boy, so would I. Unfortunately, I think Joel’s attraction to you needs to be fully explored, so that if and when he tires of you, he’ll be content to honor his vow of faithfulness to me in the future. I don’t relish repeating this in a year, with someone else. With you, I feel that I needn’t worry. I’m confident you will be totally discreet, no matter what the two of you choose to do in private to vent him of his frustration."

"What is it that Joel finds so attractive in him, ma’am? Perhaps addressing it will make my job easier. I don’t want to interfere with your relationship, if it’s avoidable."

"Good point. That’s why we were headed for the western wear store. I’ll explain in a minute." She reached into her purse, extracted her cell phone and made a call. "Hello, darling. Are you behaving yourself? – Good. We’re still riding around the city, talking. No, the driver can’t hear. We’re getting along famously. We will be delayed, however.

Take a cab home. We’ll see you there. Be ready to greet us, oh, say about seven. Later."

My hostess lowered the privacy pane and instructed the chauffeur to proceed directly to our destination. She leaned back, until the privacy pane was fully into position before she spoke to me in a low whisper. "Are you willing to make adjustments to guarantee that my husband will fulfill all of his fantasies for sexual diversion, Phillip? I promise that you won’t ever regret doing what I will ask of you. In fact, I’m confident that you will benefit form the exercise more than you could ever imagine. I believe that your slight stature will enable you to pull it off, successfully. Have you ever had occasion to dress up like a woman?"

"In what way? Wear women’s clothing in public for a costume party or whatever? No, I can’t say that I have. I’ve thought about what it would be like it a few times, but never tried it, not even for Halloween. Is that what you want me to do?"

"I propose that you experience what life is like from the vantage point of womanhood for a while. By your not refusing me immediately, I take it that you have given the subject some consideration at some point in your past and it would not cause you undue distress."

"Oh. You want me to put on a masquerade as a woman for your husband, to see if that’s what he is yearning for? I see where you’re going, now. I would satisfy his desire for experiencing companionship with a woman, without needing to involve a real one, is that it?"

"Precisely. Oh, I don’t mind if the two of you pet, darling. What worries me is the chance he might get the idea in his head of cheating on me, with regularity, resulting in getting some young girl with dubious motives pregnant, which would force me to divorce him. If a girl tries that with him, she’s in for a surprise. I already have the bulk of my fortune in my own name. She’d be lucky to afford the medical expenses.

I must protect my daughter from the shame of a public divorce. By now, you realize that Joel and I coexist in harmony, but are no longer deeply in love. I’d provide him with a modest stipend, mind you, but not enough to support more children, at my expense. With any luck, you could be a surrogate, giving him a chance to find out that romance is but a fleeting emotion, and true love is what we now enjoy, the love of caring devotion, devoid of the passion of youth."

"You don’t love your husband?"

"Of course I do. Love isn’t an easy thing to describe, is it? By giving Joel the chance to express his suppressed passion and longing for an illicit affair, I’m showing him my firm dedication to our long-term happiness. I may not be a passionate woman, but I’m not so banal that I want him to suffer from repression. Let’s give him the outlet he seeks, Phil. Placate him. You can do it, I’m sure."

"What if he balks at seeing me dressed up in feminine attire. This may backfire."

"I doubt it. He has rifled my lingerie drawers for years, Phil. I never confronted him with it because it wouldn’t prevent him from buying things of his own. I despise tawdry gowns and lacey, lewd nightwear. He knows it, but delights in the feel, nonetheless. Besides, on you, such finery would enhance your good looks immensely. Your natural, soft skin begs to be wrapped in the finest silks. How do you keep it so nice?"

"I don’t. I noticed that it has gone soft again, like it did when I was a young boy, feeding the chickens. We used the same brand of feed for a long time. It was taken off the market, because it contained growth hormones that could be absorbed through the skin. I guess I had a prolonged dose of it. The doctor assured me my skin would clear up in time. It did, but lately, I’ve noticed that it has gone soft again. Does it matter?"

"Not in the least. I’d say your complexion has its advantages. With some help, you would make a pretty girl. If you’d ever like to find out if you would, I’ll arrange everything."

"Not really. I must confess that I have been physically excited ever since we pulled away from the curb at my apartment, but only because the subject we’ve been discussing seems so naughty. I’m not a daring person. I’d never do anything perverse on my own. The only reason I’ll agree to go this far is, that I’m worried that I won’t make enough as an escort to pay off the bet. I’m neither a quitter nor a welsher. I agreed to this lark without giving it enough consideration. I’ll not reverse my steps without first examining every possible detail. I’m in enough trouble, as it is.

"Good. Here we are."

The woman was true to her word. The western store arranged for a private room to show me several outfits that would almost instantly transform me into a lovely cowgirl, if I were willing to wear a tight corset to encase my paunchy middle. As different wigs were fitted over my own head of hair, after discarding a "fall" that was pinned to the nape of my own head of hair before we entered the store, I discovered that natural, unadulterated beauty was far superior to excessive chemical concoctions that most women hid behind, so often. We spent several hours experimenting with various padding and adornments to create the images one had to see to believe, and I saw them all, entranced with the tender attention of the ladies who were treating me as if I was one of them.

Fortunately, my sponsor took early pains to cover my exposure as a man. The staff took me for a plain, country girl being treated to a shopping spree, by her rich aunt, the simple story she provided to the staff when we first entered the store. The validity of her story was enhanced immeasurably by my first changing into the gift blouse in the privacy of the limo. In my total ignorance, I failed to notice it that buttoned up on the wrong side until I was putting it on. I wondered if Joel had noticed when he saw me first unwrap the gift in the car, the night before. Once I had it on, I was told to pull it out from my trousers in front to further disguise my lack of feminine endowment.

I remained silent throughout the venture, unwilling to have my voice betray me. Simply replies by nodding, and acting as if in awe, saved the day.

As we were departing, the store’s owner took the two us aside and whispered. "You look fabulous, dear. No one will ever guess. Please stop by and visit us again, soon. You look far more natural in woman’s attire. You should have a new set of photos taken for your portfolio dressed in our clothes. The woman had recognized me at the beginning! What kind of world is this? My fear of public exposure as an imposter within their realm was needless.

On the way to their house, Joel’s wife lectured me on what I was supposed to do. I found looking back at her difficult while she talked, so I kept my head down, as if out of proper respect and obedience. I looked down at my hands. The turquoise ring she had bought for me made my hand seem more delicate and complimented the blue inlay pattern on my new boots, beyond. All the while, Joel’s wife preached on.

I could rationalize that these new boots of mine were gender neutral, but few men would wear boots with three teardrop inlays of azure blue symmetrically aligned like floral petals on the toes, and three more identical inlays on either side, near the tops. Further, the heels of my boots were slender and sleek, notably higher than the kind men wore. Nonetheless, I loved the way they felt and made noise with each step that I took from the store to the waiting limo. I took a deep breath and felt the corset bra heave and the waist constrict my tummy.

I looked out the window at the passing scenery. I could see out, but the tinting prevented passing pedestrians from seeing me. As we passed a shady area, my reflection appeared on the window. The twinkle of silver from the earrings that hung from my newly pierced ears reminded me of the subtle makeup that my benevolent client applied inside the limo, prior to entering the private changing room in the remote recesses of the store.

As the limo pulled into the semi-circular driveway, my heart began to flutter. In a few more minutes, I would know if Joel’s wife was right. Would Joel be pleased with what I had allowed her to do, or would he shudder in disgust at the mockery she created of his unusual interest in me? I gulped as the chauffeur opened the door and Joel’s wife bade me to follow her into the house, insisting that I walk a step behind her.

During the long ride, Joel’s wife advised me that I was to refer to her as "Joel’s wife" at all times, so that Joel and I would keep in mind that she was in charge, and my presence in Joel’s life was subject to her discretion. She gave strict instructions along the way that included foremost obedience to her rules over her husband’s wishes, and subservience to whatever whims the man would suggest.

She made my position clear. I was here to provide her subservient husband with an outlet for his repressed longings for expressing dominance, as she would never tolerate it from him, directly. He could be in full charge of me, so long as he never violated her control of the roost. By the time we arrived, I was adequately briefed for what was in store for me, but feared that Joel would not be well pleased. I wanted him to be pleased, hoping that he would find my new look, well, desirable enough to keep me around.

"Joel? Joel, darling, we’re here. Come see your new friend. We completed the outfit that I wanted to provide for the horseback riding you had planned."

A door opened at the side of the foyer, and Joel appeared, shocked at the sight of my new apparel. "I – Phil? Is that really you? Did she tell you why? --- Did she coerce or threaten you? I didn’t expect that you would agree? I thought you would laugh it off and refuse." As his shock wore off, he beamed with delight, and my heart sank back down my throat.

His wife interjected. "No, Joel, darling. I explained the situation, and he willingly agreed. I guess I proved my point. Some people will do anything for money. However, I must say that Phil does look good dressed this way. I’m confident that with due caution, he can evade discovery, as long as he doesn’t speak above a whisper. If he adheres to his role, he won’t have to speak much, will he? Never mind. If need be, he can always take elocution lessons. With practice, I’ll bet he can sound sultry as a vixen.

You know the terms we discussed. If anyone should ask either of you, she’s the daughter of a dear friend of mine from Indiana, here on a long visit to the coast. The less we have to explain, the better. At least, Phil will be able to discuss elements of the background to support the claim. He was born there."

"Now that we’re together, let’s discuss her feminine identity. She appears to be about twenty-five, she’s still single because she thinks men are lechers, she’s a college grad, and very shy. All we need now is a proper name. Phil certainly doesn’t apply to the way she fills out that blouse and skirt. Well, Phil, any suggestions? How about Phyllis?"

"No, ma’am. Any name but that. Guys used it to tease me when I was growing up. I get Goosebumps every time I hear it. I’d prefer a shorter name, if you don’t mind."

Joel’s wife spoke out. "I like the name of ‘Gail’. How does it sound to you? How about you, Joel? It’s similar enough to Joel and Phil and rhymes with either. An accidental slip of the tongue would be attributable to a mental lapse or stuttering. By the looks of you two, you’ll be tongue-tied often enough."

Both Joel and I nodded in agreement with his wife. I liked the name, and it seemed that Joel did, too. I blushed at her reference to being tongue-tied.

She then told Joel to get his dinner jacket, as we were going to make the rounds together to inform her circle of gossiping friends that she was fully cognizant of me. We were to go out to celebrate my arrival in town. That way, suspicions regarding our being seen together were less likely. She was a forceful woman. She wanted to parade me around to avoid explanations, later.

In a way, I guess the tour of the town’s most elite nightspots would be appropriate, as I had just arrived in town, in a way. How long I’d be visiting was another matter. An hour later we were sipping cocktails, had a light snack and went dancing, making the rounds.

Joel’s wife kept her watchful eye on us, throughout the evening, not letting us show any signs of impropriety. I was her college friend’s daughter on a visit. More than a few of her friends dropped by at our table, inquiring. She was laying the groundwork against gossip about my being with her husband. He was merely acting as a gracious host at the request of his wife. We danced for hours, into the wee hours of the morning.

Joel was a gentleman all evening. I was hoping it was because his wife was with us, and not because he was disappointed in the way I looked. I wanted Joel to like me, so he’d continue to book appointments with me. At this point, I didn’t care how I would have to dress, so long as I earned enough to be able to pay off the bet. All he did in the limo was hold hands with me. I was used to it by now, due to all the dancing we did together.

When the limo pulled up at my apartment, Joel kissed my cheek and whispered a soft "thank you" to me. I left before he garnered the courage to do anything else.

++++

I had forgotten about the way I was dressed, and was tuckered out. I gave little thought to it and used my keys to gain entry to the flat. I didn’t expect to see anyone in the hallway. As I turned to set my purse on the table, Bill was standing before me wearing his socks, boxer shorts, and undershirt and nothing else, with his mouth wide open.

"And, who the hell might you be?"

"Who does it look like, idiot?"

"That’s what I want to know! How did you get Phil’s keys? Where’s is he?"

"Right here. It’s me!"

"Phil? What the ---. What’s with that kooky get-up?"

"A client’s wishes, my friend. I’ll explain it in the morning. These boots are killing me. Give me a break, would you? Pull them off for me."

He began to chuckle. "Hey, you don’t look half bad. You should dress this way all the time. I could get used to having you around wearing skirts."

"Lay off, will you? I was out on an assignment. The woman took me to a store and had them dress me up. I’m supposed to be the daughter of a friend. It’s too complicated. If you really need to know, I’ll explain in the morning. I’ve been dancing all night and my feet are killing me. So back off."

"Is she a lezzy? Hey, that’s kinky. What a lucky break. I had to waltz with this old geezer of a broad that hung on me like a cheap suit all night. What’s she like?"

"Forty-something. Good body, tall, authoritative. I danced with her once. The rest of the time I was dancing with her husband, and I’m not used to following, so I’m beat. Is there anything else you’d like to know?"

"Her husband? She’s married? Yeah. Did you sleep with him, her or both?"

"No one. However, I’d like to get some sleep very soon, so why don’t you be a pal and help me shuck these heels." I plumped down into a chair and stretched out.

"Sure, sure. Say what’s your name, now? I can’t call you Phil in those rags."

"Gail."

"Hmm. Nice." Bill straddled one leg, facing away from me, yanked off my boot, and repeated the maneuver on the other, but paused momentarily and ran his hand over my nylon-encased calf. " You have nice gams, too. Things are looking up."

"Cut it out, will you? Impersonating a girl isn’t as much fun as you think."

Bill turned around and moved forward, so that his boxer shorts were right in my face.

"I bet it could be lots of fun for us, if you let it. Exactly how far do you plan to take this impersonation assignment? All the way? If you need practice, I’ll be glad to oblige."

"You would. Don’t you have any sense of decency?"

"Look who’s talking? I’m not the one dressed up like a cock-crazed nymph. Don’t tell me the assignment doesn’t involve any hanky-panky. I’m not that big an idiot. I’d rather hear about it now." He took his empty glass from the table and went to the fridge to get some juice. "I noticed that you haven’t had any juice yesterday. Want some juice now?" He came back to where I was sitting and lewdly stood next to me, showing me the bulge that was tenting out his boxer shorts.

"Go to bed, Bill. I’ll give you the full story in the morning. Keep your hands to yourself, tonight, hero. Don’t be dreaming about me, or try to feign sleepwalking. I’m locking my bedroom door and sticking a chair under the knob." I pushed him back and started to rise.

"You even push back like a girl, one that’s faking resistance. You know you want me, baby. How about one little kiss goodnight?" He waved his groin at me, suggesting where I should deposit the kiss he wanted.

"Back off, jerk. I should have known you’d act like a goon. Thought you were supposed to be away for the whole weekend. Did you screw it up?"

"Change in plans. We don’t get to choose how long the assignments will last. Something came up, and the trip was cancelled. I’m glad it was. I would have paid plenty to see you like this, Phil, oh, excuse me, Gail. Instead, it didn’t cost me one thin dime. Becoming an escort sure is interesting. Do Myra and Carla know about this?"

"No, in fact, why don’t you ask them over, first thing in the morning. I’ll try to explain everything to all three of you instead of repeating it three separate times. On second thought, I do need some of my vegetable juice. Pour me some, would you, Bill. That’s probably why I feel so tired." Bill complied, without grunting out some gripe about his being my waiter. He waited until I took a deep pull on the glass of juice.

"Tell me more."

I put up one painted finger while I slugged down more juice. Then continued. "Well, The wife sure is manipulative. She managed to convince me to accept a hair-brained scheme with ease. Everything she said sounded so logical and acceptable, that I had no defense against going along with it, so I agreed to do it.

First, they gave me a gift, which I thought was a western-style shirt, on the night before, asking me for another booking with the husband, for today, or I should say, yesterday. Then, she picked me up by limo, instead of her husband, to go shopping for the rest of the gift, which was supposed to be an outfit for horseback riding, or so I thought. She assured me that I’d get several more bookings if I would cooperate with her and let her pick out the clothes she wanted me to wear. I bombed out on my first client. I was eager to make good, as you have such a big head start on me, Bill.

Well, it was only my second shot, but I wasn’t confident that I’d do well.. The first one was a disaster, and this one was to accompany her to a dance that she chaperoned. Her husband took their daughter. It was one of those cotillions for young debutants. He leered at me all night long. I thought he was jealous of my being with his wife. Hell, she was only setting me up to go out with him."

"You agreed to go out on a date with a guy in that get-up"

"No. He took me to a baseball game, hot-dogs, and all. Then we had dinner at his house, and his wife gave me this blouse, but told me not to open it until I got home. Joel asked me to open the gift on the ride home. It was pitch dark in the limo, so I thought it was a man’s western shirt. He wanted me to go horseback riding with him, so I didn’t give it a second thought. Instead, his wife picked me up, and said he was busy at the office, and she would help me pick out the outfit to go horseback riding. Look, Bill. I’m half asleep. Why don’t we continue in the morning? I’m dead on my feet."

"Okay." Without asking, he came to me, picked me up and carried me into my bedroom, dropping me gently on my bed. I was shocked at how strong Bill was. He had carried me without difficulty. I clung to his neck while he did, in fear of being dropped on the floor.

"Please, Bill. Leave me be. Don’t do anything. I can undress myself, if you don’t mind."

He turned away and walked to the door, and then turned back, silhouetted in the doorway. "I’ll leave the door open, in case that harness you’re in starts to act like a boa constrictor during the night. You don’t have to worry, honey. I won’t molest you, --- unless you want me to." With that comment hanging in the air, he turned off the kitchen light and left me sitting on the bed, basked in moonlight shining in through the window. I stared at myself in the dresser mirror. If Bill looked the way I did, I probably would have come on to him, I reasoned. Why should I be upset with him for doing the same?

I got undressed, folding the skirt, and hanging the blouse over the chair beside my bed. In the pale light, dressed in a corset, with a lace bra festooning above it, I looked like a girl who was preparing to entice a man to bed. I reached down and fussed with the garters to release them from the nylon stockings. The clips were tight, but I figured out how to open them without too much trouble. As the nylons pulled gently on my legs when released, I felt a chill go up my spine. They clung to my legs with a will of their own. I brushed the nylons downward, sending more chills up my spine.

Suddenly, I envisioned Bill’s hands helping me to remove the sheer stockings from my legs and almost swooned. Wow! Girls must feel great when a man is cuddling with them.

Secretly, with much guilt, I continued to swarth my legs with my hands, to elicit the same emotions that I first felt. As long as I was dressed up this way, I figured I had the right to take advantage of the opportunity to relish in the feelings that girls usually enjoyed from wearing thin nylon stockings. After all, I wasn’t thinking too clearly, that doing it might make me become addicted to the marvelous sensations.

When I realized that I was nearly asleep, I stopped, removed the nylons, and pulled back the covers and got into bed. I decided that I was too tired to take off the corset. It would be too much of a bother. It would have to wait until morning.

"I knew it, Carla, but I didn’t believe he’d do it all on his own." Myra was standing in my doorway, with Carla trying to look over her shoulder, without luck. "Wake up, princess! It’s way past noon!"

Bright sunshine poured through the sole double-hung window of my room. Someone had lifted the shade. My immediate thought was that Bill had invaded my room while I slept and took advantage of me in my deep sleep.

"Wha --?"

"Bill told us all about your date with a man. You’d better hurry up and take a shower. He has called twice already and wants to see you early this evening. Looks like you landed a bold admirer. You should have mentioned it sooner. If I knew that you were gay, I could have arranged for you to date men from the start. You have no idea how many men want a ‘girl’ like you."

"I’m not gay. I never was. This was all his wife’s idea. She doesn’t want her friends to get the idea that he’s gay, either. Nor does she want him dating real girls. It’s all a farce."

"Sure, darling, sure. Just the same, you’d better get cracking and call him back, before he gets upset. The agency called, too. Said he booked you for the entire week. Something about you two getting better acquainted. Looks like you’re in the money."

Bill chimed in. "She hasn’t won the bet, yet. I’m not sitting on my hands, you know."

"Leave me alone. I need sleep."

"Nonsense. You need sustenance, then a good hot bath. Lunch is waiting. You can tell us the whole story while we eat. Carla will help you with your toilette after that. I noticed that you haven’t had much of your juice, GAIL! You’ll have to make up for it and drink twice as much today. Now, get out of that bed, or we’re sending in Bill to drag you out."

I rose and took the robe Carla was holding out to me. It was one of hers. Myra knew my femme name. Bill must have repeated everything I said to him last night. Oh well: might as well get it over with, was all that I could think of to do. I gave a detailed account of the past few days I spent with the new client that I landed, while Myra fed me French toast and more of my veggie juice.

"This will give you a distinct advantage over Bill, you know."

"Why’s that?"

"Because the rate is double for those that can provide twice the diversity. I didn’t mention it previously, because I wasn’t sure it would apply, but I had my suspicions. That’s why I suggested the daily quota of veggie juice. It’s very high in vitamins that help to keep your skin soft and supple. Bill’s vitamin supplements help him to build lean muscle."

"You’ve been drugging us?" I set my glass of juice down, in revulsion.

"Oh, posh! Don’t be silly. We merely tuned your diets to compliment your behavior, as we wanted your minds keenly alert to grasp the info on the tapes more easily. Bill works out regularly, so he needs more vitamin C and A, and carbohydrates for raw energy. You needed more iron, potassium, calcium and proteins. We only used what the clinic doctor recommended after seeing the results of your blood tests. To be sure you acquired all the right vitamins and nutrients naturally, we chose proper ingredients for your juices from a chart to make sure you got the essentials on a consistent basis. Everything in your juice is pure, natural and organically grown, without chemical fertilizers. To be" ---

"I know, I know: "to be healthy, wealthy, and wise." It was becoming clear to me that Myra and Carla weren’t leaving much to chance. Their commissions were predicated on our success as escorts. They used every tactic they could to ensure success.

"You’re sure that nothing is added to the juice? It’s all natural?"

"Absolutely. Look, Phil, uh Gail." There it was again. Gail! "It’s about time you start tending to your diet on your own. From now on, we’ll give you the list of ingredients and ratios, and you can use our juicer to prepare your juices yourself. How’s that sound? Fair enough? You can buy your own ingredients or continue to share our supplies, whichever you prefer. Our vegetables are grown organically. We get them delivered straight from the produce market so we know they’re as freshest available. We’ll even let you discuss healthy combinations with our nutritionist to add the flavors that you like the best."

"That would be nice. I do like the flavor of this blend, but I’d like to try some variety occasionally." That’s odd. I had never paid any attention to the flavor of mom’s vegetable juices. I drank them because mother insisted they were essential for good health. These girls took making juice to the level of an art form, adding spices and herbs. I could tell.

"Good. That’s settled. You’ll prepare your own from now on. Time’s a wasting. Carla will help you get cleaned up. If you feel self-conscious about it, take a quick shower, put on the robe to preserve your modesty, and she’ll join you when you’re ready. I’ll be busy with Bill at my place giving him his daily quiz."

Carla came into the bathroom while I was taking a shower, reached into the stall without looking and handed me a large bottle of depilatory, telling me to read the label and use it everywhere that I thought would be appropriate. She cautioned me not to get the stuff on my face or groin, or it might itch badly or burn the sensitive skin there. After asking me if I had any questions, she left me to use my own judgment. After the recommended test patch on my left wrist, I used it everywhere (except my face and groin).

Fifteen minutes later, my skin was as soft and smooth as a baby’s rump. The towel felt rougher, so I patted myself dry. Carla’s silky robe clung to me, and I felt those delicious Goosebumps all over, once more. I could see why most girls pampered themselves. It felt great to feel my skin tingle without the impairment of body hair.

Carla left a pair of black silk panties and a delicate matching strapless slip for me to wear. I took off the robe, put the undies on and told her I was ready, shivering in delight at the feel of these light confections. A cool shower rinse had effectively shrunk my manhood, so I felt as if I had barely anything on at all but the panties concealed everything, firmly in place, and the mirror said the essentials were covered adequately. In fact, I looked like a girl in that regard, as I tried to make the front of the panties flat by pushing everything down between my legs. I didn’t want to look lewd in front of Carla, like Bill did in his boxers the night before in the kitchen.

Carla lavished my torso with fragrant talc, and handed me the short slip that she called a chemise, explaining that it should be worn high as it would go, up under my armpits. The purpose of the slip was to prevent chaffing from the corset she was going lace up on me, as she intended to lace it tightly, to see how much definition she could achieve by lacing.

"Is the definition that important?"

"Maybe not to you, but you need to do more sit-ups. Your tummy hangs out too much. The only way to make it less obvious so you look nicer is to constrict it. Why don’t you spend more time at the gym, exercising, like Bill does?" She drew the laces of the corset she put over the chemise tight as she instructed me to suck in my gut and hold my breath.

"I feel funny around those overeager musclemen. They stare at me all the time, like I’m a freak or something. I think I look more average than they do with those muscles bulging out all over. I think men look vain by overdoing it. They must be narcistic or something."

"Ha, ha! I agree. However, I don’t think many women agree with us. Most women find a muscular man far more desirable to be seen with than an endomorph."

"What kind of morph?"

"Endomorphs, you know: chubby guys. Ectamorphs are skinny guys, like the weaklings pictured on the back of older comic books that get sand kicked in their faces by big some muscle-bound jerk that steals away the girlfriend. Little guys don’t much of a chance to impress a woman, unless they find a woman who is a fitness freak that has muscles of her own, and likes to be the dominant partner. That wife of the guy who you’re seeing may be like that. Have you seen her body in a bathing suit?"

"No. I don’t know. I don’t think she’s a health enthusiast."

"Myra is. You should see her in a bikini. Her muscles have muscles." Carla had me sit down and started to brush and dry my hair with a hair-dryer, after she laced me into the corset she brought with her. She snugged it so tight it hurt when I sat down on the stool she put in front of the sink, unless I sat bolt upright on it.

"She has the body of a goddess. We’re a perfect match, we two. She’s really my wife, you know, not my sister."

"Whaaat?"

"That’s right. You and I have more in common than you thought. She’s hedonistic, but I love her more than life. I’ll do anything for her. She knew that you could win the bet with Bill if you open your mind to optimizing your latent talent, so she directed your training away from male chauvinism and toward transvestism. Leave it to her, and she’ll find you a strong-willed wife that will take damn good care of you and support you in the manner in which you will become accustomed. Think of all the advantages. You’ll never have to worry about getting a job again. Your wife will support you."

"What makes you think I’ll want that kind of wife?"

"Oh, you do. If not, you will, once you let yourself free of social influences."

"What’s that mean?"

"Everyone tries to fit the mold that society dictates. Men are supposed to be strong and in charge. Women are all supposed to be meek and humble. Sometimes, it’s better the other way around. As long as you are happy and don’t cause any harm, do whatever you think will bring you the most happiness, that’s all. Honestly, Gail, I would never have agreed to pose as a woman, if I didn’t think it would bring us true happiness.

"When I first started dating Myra, we were constantly beleaguered by the meatheads that tried to break us up. What was I to do? If I tried to defend myself, I’d get pulverized. The best way to fight them off was to let Myra take charge. Still, they’d bully me. I felt less than adequate. Now, the dense ones still approach us, but she sends them away with their egos tucked between their legs, none the wiser about my sexuality. After a while, I didn’t mind being hit on. To a jerk, I was another piece of meat, a prey to his supposed charms.

I knew I could never become a challenge to bigger guys, so we developed the solution we think avoids many embarrassing confrontations we used to encounter. Whenever Myra displays affection for me publicly, the goons think we’re lesbians and keep their distance. It works out for the best, because I feel more comfortable in women’s clothes than men’s. I don’t think I have any men’s clothes lying around the bottom of my closet anymore."

"What’s the point of your revelation to me at this time, Carla? Are you suggesting I do things to look genuine, even in a bikini? I would have never guessed that you are a man underneath, where it counts. You have ample cleavage, and a lithe waistline. Your body doesn’t look masculine in the least. How do you do it?"

"Well, if you must know, I had a few tucks and gathers done surgically, once I was sure that this is how I want to portray myself publicly for the rest of my life. As a man, I was a wimp. At least now, I look attractive and have lots of people follow me with their eyes, everywhere I go. It bolsters my self-esteem to know that others enjoy the way I look.

Did you ever feel people weren’t paying attention to you when it was your turn to add to a conversation? I have a master’s degree in Human Resources, yet, when I worked as a man, I was passed over for promotion several times, due to my passive nature and small stature. I got tired of being the low man on the totem pole, year after year."

We left the bathroom and went to my bedroom, where a full set of feminine clothes were laid out on the bed, waiting. "You wouldn’t believe that I’m past my prime, would you? I’m forty-five, but I look as if I’m just entering my thirties. It’s all because of Myra. She started working long after I did and passed me up, all because of her dynamic personality and great looks. We started dating, fell in love and the rest is history."

Carla helped me to "fix" my face, explaining how I should learn how to do it by myself eventually, while she continued to enlighten me about her development.

"I used prosthetics at the start. It worked well for the most part, but left certain types of clothes unsuitable. I didn’t dare let any padding show at the time. Appearing at a beach or at a poolside, as a man got to be impossible too, as I had my facial hair removed with electrolysis after a while to enjoy being away from our apartment for more than a few hours at a time. I shaved or depilated all my body hair regularly, so I couldn’t go out in public in a swimsuit, unless it was one of Myra’s, which don’t fit me well. I adore the feeling of silk against my skin, without hair, don’t you?"

I thought about it before answering. "I’m not used to it, but I got Goosebumps from the panties as I drew them up my legs, just now. Is that the way all women feel about the clothes they wear? It must be wonderful to be able to enjoy clothes so much."

"It is. I’ll never go back to drab things men wear. The thrill of feeling lacy underthings is the primary reason I let Myra talk me into trying it out. We decided to get married on the spur of the moment and booked a honeymoon trip to the Bahamas. I went to the bar to get fresh drinks and some other guy aboard the ship hit on Myra while I was at the bar and I tried to come to the rescue. I got a lose tooth for my efforts before the ship’s staff could break us apart. Fortunately, no one really got hurt.

He claimed to have seen her first, and took me for another guy on the prowl chasing after single women who took cruises to find excitement. If only I could have afforded to buy her a proper wedding beforehand, it all might never have happened. No, we eloped and got married aboard the cruise ship on that first day out. The plain ring that I bought her in haste could easily be mistaken for a friendship ring.

Myra thought the entire episode was touching: that her brave, new husband did his best to protect her from some wandering stud out looking for extra-curricular activity without any concern for his own survival. She advised me that she was used to being approached by men and I should let her handle it from then on. She was used to it.

I refused, telling her I wasn’t going to let another man approach her in that way, if I could help it. How would that look? Was I supposed to stand by meekly and let some guy butt in and try to take my wife away in front of a shipload other people? She insisted that she could handle bold men with ease, and asked me to give her some time to think about it.

She said she didn’t mind the attention such men gave her, and would figure out a plan, so I wouldn’t get injured, when it happened the next time. I was shocked. She actually liked men chasing after her. I suppose she wasn’t used to being married, yet.

Back in our stateroom, when she got undressed, I tore off my clothes. After all, it was our wedding night. I was beside myself, in awe at her magnificent beauty. Why she chose me for her husband was beyond me, but I wasn’t about to complain. I married her because of her commanding personality and charm as well as her well-sculptured body and obvious good looks.

As I approached her, she took me with a force I couldn’t believe as she explained why she knew I was the best man in the world for her. In spite of my deficiencies, I would defend her honor with my last gasp of breath, even though it wasn’t needed. She felt that she had all that she needed to defend herself, which I knew was true by the way she could take control of our passionate love-making and fulfill all of my dreams of happiness.

The gift shops aboard a cruise ship cater to a full array of sexual fantasies and carry a full line of smart apparel for the purpose. The following day, we shopped together, without my knowing that she was making purchases for me that would make you blush. I learned on our wedding night that she preferred dominance, and I reveled in it.

It began with her telling me of her penis envy, that she wanted me to help her explore by my being the object of her passion. In short, she wanted to dress the part of the seducer, and me dress the part of the seduced. I saw no harm in going along, so I let her dress me up in the garments she purchased that day. When I saw how I looked, all dressed up for sex, the real meaning of being a submissive to my wife became clear to me. She knew it all along. My reflection was almost pretty, younger looking, and demure, and I adored it.

If you can imagine, the passion we shared that night exceeded our initial consummation of our vows of fidelity, the night before. We were meant for each other all along, and we both knew, it. We both knew that our love for one another would endure, regardless of how many arrogant brutes would confront us, in an attempt to split us apart. That I could be the object of her delight, dressed in feminine finery was eye opening, to say the least, not only to provide her with ecstasy, but myself, as well.

It didn’t take much coercion on her part to convince me to attempt to face the public in a dress. No one on the boat knew us personally, and no one cared how others were dressed. If I was detected as a man by anyone, no one made a point of it. In fact, the guy that hit me on the chin on our first night out, smiled at me across the dining room, and winked at me, as well. For sure, he knew that I was Myra’s husband. Yet, he licked his lips, and let his tongue show between them as he continued to glare at me. He never even shot a quick glance at Myra. His interest was riveted on me.

Initially, I froze in panic, thinking he would expose my charade. Instead, he merely sat in his chair, admiring my brazen courage. I know, because he told me so later, as we danced together in the moonlight. Myra insisted I accept his dance request, which she predicted would occur, telling me that he was cute for an airhead, as he approached us at the table where we sat quietly in the lounge. As he approached us, I thought he would ask Myra to dance, thinking that I was in no position to defend her, dressed as I was.

Instead, he apologized for his initial arrogance and took my hand, and kissed it. I almost lost it when he did that. I turned to Myra for her help, but she just pushed my shoulder, telling him that I would love to dance with him. He pulled me to my feet before I had a chance to decline. I was in a state of shock, but had no choice. I danced. He held me very close, and it felt good. He knew I was a guy, and told me I was lovely, anyway. Myra was watched us, probably urging him to continue dancing with me for as long as he wanted.

No one on the dance floor gave us a second look. I was getting away with it and I felt a certain thrill I never knew. I discovered that following was easier than leading, and men were more fun to dance with than women. I always had trouble trying to lead women. I felt as if I was in heaven. It felt so good to be desired as a woman. It still does."

"Is that as far as it goes, Carla? Just dancing and letting men hold you in their arms?"

"It goes as far as you want it to, Gail. I’m a married man. I’m devoted to Myra. We’re all that we need for each other. Living the way we do is right for us. Will I ever let a man get familiar? Perhaps I will someday, but not without Myra’s full consent and blessing. I do know that she has pangs for being held in a strong man’s arms, sometimes. And, so do I, sometimes. I can’t be anything more than honest. You have to decide what you want on your own. Give yourself a chance."

The phone broke up our lengthy conversation. Carla’s story gave me much to think about.

However, I would have to let that wait. Joel was picking me up to go horseback riding in an hour. I finished dressing and made sure the fall that was pinned into my short hair was secure. The full poodle skirt, extended by something called crinoline slip bounced when I walked. I had reservations about riding in the thing, but discovered it looked gorgeous on me and emphasized my femininity.

Joel literally drooled at the sight of me. He fawned over me at every turn, placing me up in the saddle with his strong arms on my corseted waist, as I leaned over onto his broad shoulders. His hands tarried on my skirt as I looked down at him, smiling. He mounted his horse and off we rode. My origins provided sufficient experience in horsemanship, but it was the first time I rode sidesaddle. My billowing crinoline slip afforded me needed modesty about my ankles, and my poodle skirt covered the saddle and my legs well.

As we rode along the groomed riding path, I wished that Carla hadn’t been so insistent on lacing up the corset, but found it to comforting after a while. My soft paunch would have been bouncing around more vigorously if it weren’t so well confined. It had been a while since I rode a horse, but my skill soon gave me confidence and we had a marvelous time.

Afterwards, I begged Joel to let me go home to get refreshed, as the ride was a bit dusty, but he advised me that his wife was waiting for us, and would see to it that I was properly bathed and anticipated the visit. A new outfit was waiting there for my arrival. The short ride to his home was uneventful, except he held my hand in his for the entire trip. In my heart, I wanted to be respectfully responsive, but cringed at the thought of being kissed by another man. I kept telling myself it was wrong, over and over.

His wife was overpowering. She insisted on attending to my bath, personally. She wanted to see proof that I wasn’t some snipe that was luring her husband into a romantic affair to exploit their fortune. Once she was sure of my manhood, she briskly helped me dress and get ready. She returned me to her husband’s arms, and left us alone.

He took me into his arms and kissed my cheek lightly. "There. Is that what worried you on the way home? Are you afraid that I’ll ravage you against your will? Please, Gail. Be patient with me. I don’t know what I want any more than you do. I never had a chance to date girls much as a youngster. You know our marriage was prearranged and we were chaperoned every place we went. My wife is a frigid woman, yet I’m devoted to her. She can’t help the way she is. I don’t want to get some girl into trouble, so this is the only alternative, as I explained from the very beginning. I won’t defile you in any way. Try to relax and enjoy my company, if you can. I know I’m older, but it pleases me to date you, like we’re still teenagers, exploring life for the first time. It is, for me, you know."

"Joel. I understand. This is all so new to me, as well. Inside, I know that I’m male, and it bothers me that I enjoy behaving like an innocent girl for you, as if it is merely a play and we’re just actors, doing a job. I accepted being an escort, just to get out of hock, but as it goes along, it’s beginning to mean much more than that to me. I like doing it. It’s a very exciting experience. I don’t know how long it will continue to be, so I don’t want you to think this is any more than just another assignment. You’re my client, no more. In the meantime, please try to remember that we’re only playing out parts together, hopefully to give you the chance to date someone that you never had in your youth."

"Enough said. Let’s go have dinner at some quiet bistro, and have a grand time. You can tell me the kinds of activities you like, and I’ll tell you if they appeal to me, too." He put his arm around me, and we went out to let the waiting limo take us out to what became a long string of dates we had and still have together, as a couple.

++++

I won the bet. Bill had plenty of money he earned as a male escort to pay his share of the back rent, as well as all of the two months rent during the period of the bet. We continued to fulfill the bargain with Myra and Carla, but saw less of them, once they were confident we were well qualified in our roles. Bill’s manners improved dramatically, but, once in a while, he was still cagey around me in the apartment. He even tried to kiss me again. Well, I guess I wasn’t discouraging him enough, so he tried.

I spend most of the time in women’s clothes, as Joel and his wife heap them upon me at every turn. Shopping for me gives her a kick. It would be a shame to let them go to waste, cluttering up my closet. I like to have ample free time to satisfy my pastimes, so I chose not to get another job. The market stayed soft, and the pay is meager by comparison. Bill went back, is doing rather well, but insists I pay half our living expenses, just the same. I can well afford it, because Joel’s wife is generous and extended my term of my employ, but with less frequency. I have sufficient income for my support and to add to my flush bank accounts. No worries now about being tossed out into the cold, for years to come

I didn’t have any drastic surgery, like Carla, but I did have my beard removed. I never did care for daily shaving. I still use depilatories. If anyone at the gym’s swimming pool asks,

I tell them that I gain a few seconds on my lap times, when I shave my legs. They buy it, and some of them try it, themselves. Go figure.

Well, guys. That’s my story. I’m happy with things the way they are, and I will probably continue to dress up in women’s clothes to go out with men on dates as long as my looks and the fees hold up. I still date Joel regularly, and his wife (alone) upon occasion. Their daughter got married to a guy she barely knew, just like her mom. I went to the wedding reception as part of the catering staff. As a uniformed waiter, no one recognized me as that "cute young girl" Joel is seeing on the sly. Yes, people talk, but having a mistress is not uncommon in their social circles.

How far am I willing to go, you wonder? Gentlemen, please! You know a girl never tells!

The end.

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Virginia Kane. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.