The Significant Other                     by: Donna L'amour

 

This story is about me, my husband Emilien, his alter-ego, Simone and our lives. It is dedicated to all the transgendered people out there and especially those of you who've yet to come out. I hope this tale helps you come out and be the women you are inside.

Emilien and I are in our late-twenties. We've been married for six years and our marriage grows stronger with each passing year. He's head of the sales department of a local software company and has to go around the world on occasion to meet with business associates. I however, run a psychology clinic. We're both second generation Americans, his parents are French and mine Italian.

The day this all began, the day I caught him in the act, was two years ago, in the summer of ´99.

Emilien had just returned from a business trip from England and was taking a shower. His suitcase was on our bed and I thought I'd help unpack. I took his pants and shirts and placed them in the closet. But when I was halfway through the clothes bundle I got a little surprise. A pair of tights, a long, brown mane of a wig and black knee high leather boots, with staggering 6 inch heels. they were definitely not my style, as i kept to the low heels, and besides, they were size 9, Emilien´s number. I placed the boots, wig and tights on top of the bundle and then went into the living room where I sat down on the sofa and started reading a magazine, leaving the suitcase open.

A few minutes later, the rush of the shower stopped and Emilien emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a white towel round his tush. He went straight into the bathroom. Then the warning lights went off in his head. He came into the living room and, stuttering said:

"You ah, you've been through my suitcase?"

I nodded and put the magazine down.

"We need to talk" I replied.

He sat down on the sofa opposite me and swallowed. He had the look of a man about to be executed, looked geniunely frightened.

"Don't worry, there's no corporal punishment in this house." I told him to calm him down. I wasn't angry at him at all actually. Just confused. "I know you have a good explanation, so let's hear it"

He sighed. "Ok. Here goes. First let me just say that I am not gay, I love you more than anything and am absolutely not having an affair. I'm a crossdresser"

I can honestly say that I knew from the first moment I saw items 1 through 3 in the suitcase that he was. It just sort of fit. He continued talking.

"For how long I don't know. Probably all my life. I've been thinking about this since I first realized I am one. At first I was terrified I was gay, because I absolutely did not want to be gay. I did not want to spend my life married to another man. Thankfully, those fears were quelled when I met you" He smiled at me and continued.

"I've repressed this longing for crossdressing for years and years, at first because of my homophobia and then because I thought It´d upset you. But it's taken over my dreams. I haven't dreamt about anything else for the last five years.

"I´ve always had a strange interest in women's clothes and shoes and makeup. I think that's because I grew up in a home with a bossy, tomboy mother and a weak father figure. But where my mother didn't wear makeup and sexy clothes my best friend's did. When we played hide and seek at their house i sometimes hid in the closet and tried on her gloves.

And I was always fascinated by the fact that women put so much effort into their looks, unlike men, and that because of the women rights movement women have moved into male territory, started wearing pants and doing male jobs while we stay, willingly or unwillingly, inside the old rules of how men should act and look.

"Anyway, repressing the urge doesn't work so I thought I´d finally give it a try. This was the first step. I was going to tell you about this soon, I swear, but I was going to lay the groundwork first, try to soften the blow. Donna, if you want me to, I'll throw them out and never do this again."

I said nothing for a while. A thousand things were running through my mind. Excitement, even happiness. I was seeing a different Emilien to the one I knew. But I liked this one too. Emilien must have misread my silence though, because he started to get up.

"I understand. I´ll go. I can't expect you to accept this..." I cut him off,

"Let's do it" I said. He obviusly wasn't expecting this.

"What?"

"Darling, I understand. I do. And if it means so much to you, I want to help you. I want to be a part of this."

His face lit up "Really? You mean it?"

I smiled at him and he gave me one of his bearhugs that I so love. Tears were running down his face.

"Oh, Donna, I love you to bits, you know that?"

"I know. But we're wasting time. Let's get to it."

I took his hand and led him to the bathroom. There I removed the towel from his hips.

"Grab a razor" I said and took mine. He got his, hesitating. "You want to know how nylons feel? Then you'll have to be shaven. and a girl with chest hair is no girl at all. You do arms and chest, I'll do feet and buttocks."

He grinned at me and dug in. It's true what they say, French men ARE hairy. It took almost half an hour to shave him. But when we finally did finish he couldn't help but stroke those soft, soft feet.

"Smooth like a baby's butt" He said, pleased.

"We're not done yet. Here's where the fun really begins"

I sat him down at my makeup table in the bedroom, but with his back to the mirror, so he couldn't see his face until I was done with him.

"You've never worn makeup before?" I asked.

"No"

"Well there's a first for everthing. Prepare to be blown away"

I must confess, I'm something of a primadonna (with that name, small wonder). I never leave the house without a mask of makeup on me and I'm pretty good at it too. Maybe that's one of the reasons Phillipe fell in love with me.

Anywyay, Emilien has a pretty thick beard so it took a lot of makeup to conceal it. And the unibrow, although cute on a guy, had to go. Other than that, his face is actually quite feminine, soft skin, petite nose. and eyelashes to die for. I made him up heavily all the same, tried to give him a movie star look.

It wasn't until I was done with the makeup that I realized his short hair was not the most feminine of haircuts. I got the wig from the suitcase and placed it on his head.

"Where'd you get this?" I asked him

"From a dressing service in London. You know, they have crossdressing tv presenters there. Trannies they call them. And I even met a few in the street. Incredible."

The wig fit like a glove. The brown mane of curly hair spread all over his shoulders.

"I thought of you as more of a blonde. or a redhead. We´ll have to try that in the future"

"I'd like that" he replied. "Can I look now?´

"No. Not until the illusion´s complete. Though I can tell you, you look very good"

He did too, a gorgeus woman from the shoulders up. The rest of him needed work.

"I don't suppose you've bought a dress behind my back?"

"Afraid not. And I doubt I can squeeze into one of yours."

"Well, there's always the dress you got me from your cousin, Gaultier."

"Jean-Paul? I thought you'd taken it back. That it was too big. He said he'd have one of his people fix it so it fit you."

The dress in question was a long black leather gala dress. It was easily the best dress I'd ever had. Unfortunately Emilien had gotten it too big. The torso part was supposed to be skintight but it was too loose on me. And yes, The Jean-Paul Gaultier is Emilien's cousin.

"No, I never got around to it. I'll go get it. Meanwhile you put on these panties and bra, and your tights. And don't you dare peek in the mirror."

I threw him a pair of my underwear and went into the wardrobe, the armoury as Emilien likes to call it. I found the dress and handed it to Emilien who was now wearing my underwear and his brand new tights. He held it for a while, just watching it.

"You know, I really wanted to see you in this" he said.

"Well, from this moment on it's officially yours. And I really want to see you in it. Go on"

Ever so gently, like it was made of glass he slid into it. I zipped him up. It fit to a T. Perfectly. Except...

"You'll need something to put into those bras. You´re a tad flatbreasted, for such a knockout"

"Knockout?" he said. Now he was really getting excited. His face shone. "There's always your sister Maria's breasts"

My sister had gotten silicone implants in her breasts a few years back but didn't like it so she had them removed and gave me the silicone bags. Six months later she got bigger implants.

I kept them in my makeup table. I had to unzip the dress for Phillipe to put the bags into the bra, it was to tight. However, they made a world of difference.

When he'd popped into the long boots, Emilien's back swayed back and he almost fell over when he tried to walk. This was obviusly an alien sensation to him, he'd probably not worn them before. Or any heels for that matter.

"Maybe those heels were a bit too big."he said.

"Nonsense. You'll just have to get used to ´em" I said. "Now there's only these, and your done"

I gave him the black leather opera gloves that came with the dress. Like a true computer nerd Emilien has small fingers so putting on the female gloves wasn't that hard. They were just as tight as the dress though. But because they were so thin the fingers could be moved freely.

"All right, now you can look"

He turned and looked at himself in the mirror.

"My god´he gasped. "You've created Liz Hurley's kid sister!"

He had a point. He looked very much like ms.Hurley actually. Drop dead gorgeus, from head to toe.

He hugged me and kissed me. It was the best kiss I'd ever had.

"Thank you, Donna" he said,

"You'll need a name." I said. "Can´t call you Emilien when you're like this."

"Simone" he said. Only it wasn't in his voice. He'd changed it to a deep contralto. It fit him, her perfectly. Both the name and the voice.

"Simone? I like it. So Simone, how about we go out to dinner?"

"Sounds Lovely" she said.

The next half hour Simone spent practizing how to walk in heels and I dressed up. I made reservations at the finest restaurant in town. When we left she'd really gotten the hang of the heelwalk. I gave her my fur coat and we went hand in hand out to the car.

I was the car enthusiast of the marriage and had saved up for a year to buy the car of my dreams, a Ferrari. Worth every penny.

"So, Simone, you wanna drive?"

"Me? But you never let me drive your car" she said.

"No, I never let Emilien drive my car. A girlfriend deserves special treatment, don't you think?"

She grinned. I gave her the keys. She opened the door and sat down, swinging her feet into the car. I did the same and she started up the car. It roared.

"How'd you know how to enter the car in a dress?"

"I've watched you do it tons of times. Besides, I can barely move my feet in this dress. I had no choice."

I bent over and kissed her gently. She stroked my face with her gloved hand, love shining in her eyes.

"Better put your seatbelt on. It´s gonna be a wild ride."

And we roared into the night.

 

The dinner was fantastic. We had the time of our lives. Especially Simone. When we were done eating we went to the bar and got ourselves a table in the corner and talked for hours. We steered clear of the whole subject of crossdressing though. I treated her just like another girl and that was just what she wanted. This was her night.

When we got home, on our way up to the house, I said:

"You know Simone. I don't think I've ever had such a good time. We should make this a habit."

"Really? I'd like that. I like this. I like Simone. She's so much more fun than Emilien."she said.

"How about next weekend? We'll have to get you some clothes of your own, of course. Lovely as it is, you can't wear this dress every time you go out. And more shoes and boots."

"And wigs. I like this one but there's room for improvement. And I really wanna try being a blonde. And a redhead"

We laughed and she kissed me. That night we had the best sex of our marriage, though it's gotten a whole lot better since then. Kinkier too.

Emilien was ecstatic about this and I was so glad I could make him this happy. I guess you could say it was the first day of our new lives. Everything changed after that, really.

It's been two years since then and Simone has grown and prospered, and I with her. The size of her wardrobe rivals mine and we go out every single weekend, sometimes more often. I have lots more to tell and I'll keep posting those stories in the near future.

 

If you have any questions or comments don't hesitate to send me mail

love,
Donnatella L'amour  donna_lamour@hotmail.com

 

 

 

© 2001
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