A Road Less Travelled

by Aoife Martin

 

Part II

 

Later on, we opened a bottle of wine and curled up on the couch to watch some television. I was still dressed and Sarah showed me how to hold and sip from a glass in a lady-like manner. By this stage, alarm bells were ringing in the back of my mind and it wasn't because of the wine. However, something more potent, more powerful was drowning them out. I sipped my wine, ignored the tintinnabulation, and relaxed just a little bit more.

That night, after Sarah had removed my makeup and helped me out of my finery, we made love. It was urgent, it was sweet, it was compelling. Maybe I was trying to prove to her that I was still a man. We were joined at the hip and as I felt her body shudder with the aftershock of an orgasm I released my self inside her. We were as one. Afterwards, we lay in each other's arms until sleep beckoned.

The following evening, Sarah dressed me up again and this time I was a more eager participant. Sarah remarked on the fact that I seemed to be more willing but I said that there was a job to be done so we might as well buckle down and get to it. She looked at me strangely for a moment before continuing with the makeup application.

I wore the same panty-girdle and balloon-filled bra as before but this time Sarah had me wear a plain white-cotton blouse and black knee-length skirt. "We need to try a few different looks before we can decide which one works best." Quite.

Once dressed, Sarah suggested that we go for a drive. I was never one for mixing my metaphors but this was a different kettle of fish and I was a horse of a different colour.

"I can't go out dressed like this."

"Why not?"

"Because.... Because people would know."

"Who's going to know?" Sarah demanded. "Look at yourself in the mirror."

I did. A pretty young woman looked back at me.

"You don't even recognise yourself, for Pete's sake. Your own mother wouldn't recognise you."

She was right. The woman in the mirror was exactly that. A woman. A bit wobbly on heels, perhaps, but a woman nonetheless.

"Look," she said. "We'll be in the car. I'll drive. Nobody's going to pass any remarks."

Five minutes later I stood at the front door. My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing and my stomach churned with a combination of fear and excitement. Sarah was waiting in the car for me and so, taking a deep breath I stepped outside and pulled the front door behind me. There is nothing, ladies and gentlemen, and I mean *nothing* that can compare to that first step outside. Even Neil Armstrong wouldn't have had a look in. The sound of my heel striking the pavement was the loudest sound ever heard. The whole world stopped to watch. They could see me for who I was. A sham. A man dressed up as a woman. They were all laughing.

In fact, I could hear them laughing. A young couple, arm in arm, were walking down the street chatting and laughing. I tried to turn back to open the front door but I didn't have my key. Sarah had the keys and she was in the car. I had no option but to continue forward. If I weren’t so nervous I would have realised how nice the summer breeze felt on my legs. As I reached the car the couple passed, saying "Hello". I couldn't speak. I just nodded at them as they continued on their way.

I watched them go by. No giggles. No looking behind suspiciously. No whispered asides. *They thought I was a woman!* What else would I be? They saw a person with long hair, lipstick, a blouse, skirt and heels. Of course I was a woman. They had no reason to suspect otherwise. Everything Sarah had taught me came back in a rush. Pelvis forward. Back straight. I walked forward and eased myself into the car, smoothing my skirt before sitting down, keeping my legs together and lifting them into the car. I closed the door and grinned.

"See? That wasn't so bad now, was it?" Sarah was grinning now and I kissed her on the cheek.

"Ooops," I said, wiping the lipstick from her face.

I felt like I could have done anything but we only drove around that evening.

"No point in running before you can walk."

"Not in these shoes anyway."

Sarah laughed. It was the sweetest sound in the world. I loved to hear her laugh. I would have done anything for her at that moment in time and by God, I think she knew it.

Our lovemaking that night was wild and free and uninhibited. When we were spent, Sarah asked me if I would do something for her.

"Anything."

"I want you to wear one of my night-dresses."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. I want to wake up beside you and see you in silk."

Now, dear reader, things have been moving along at rather a breakneck pace. It would be a lie to say that I hadn't enjoyed the last few days but it would be equally untrue if it hadn't worried me in some way. I mean, before any of this I was a normal, well-adjusted, masculine man. I had never even dreamed of wearing a dress. And now, here I was, wrapped around my wife, wearing one of her best night-dresses. What did this mean? Was I gay? Was she? Confusion reigned supreme...

 

The following day was Saturday so we got up late. It felt strange waking up and realising that I was wearing a night-dress but Sarah had a huge smile on her face. Besides, it also felt kind of nice. After breakfast Sarah said she wanted to go into town to do some shopping. I decided to stay at home and catch up on some reading.

I found it hard to concentrate on my book and kept reading the same page over and over again. Nothing was sinking in, so I finally gave up. Wandering into the bedroom I found myself opening the top drawer in Sarah's bureau. I took out a pair of panties and wondered what it would be like to try them on. No sooner had the thought entered my feverish little brain, than I had my jeans and boxers off and the panties on. The silky material felt cool and delicious under my skin. I put my jeans on over them and headed back to the sitting room. For some reason I felt much more relaxed and was soon firmly ensconced in my book.

By the time Sarah arrived home I had finished the book and was beginning to prepare dinner. She was laden with bags.

"My!" I said, "You've been busy."

"I certainly have." She frowned. "Why don't we go out for dinner, this evening?"

I had only peeled a few vegetables and not having to peel any more was fine by me.

"Sure. Got anywhere in mind?"

She considered briefly. "How about Romano's?"

It was a restaurant we'd never been to before, but word of mouth was good.

"Sure."

"I'll ring and make a booking. Nine o'clock okay?"

"Fine. But why so late?"

"It'll take us a bit of time to get ready."

And with that she was gone to the telephone. She couldn't mean...? Nah... I wasn't ready for something like that!

To be continued...

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Aoife Martin. 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.