Stephanie's Scheme

Alamo Preacher

  

Part Twelve : .

The image flickered and was replaced by a garish children's program. Primary coloured puppets bounced stupidly across the screen. I muted the sound. My Mom had been wearing the very same dress from my dream fantasy. She was fabulously made up, maybe a little drunk. I tried to place the year. '86? Six years ago? Probably. She must have been in Manchester, which would make the man on the bed, Vincent? Vinnie? the guy from the men's outfitters, with the slicked-back hair. My mother's dancing partners had always seemed interchangeable.

I pursed my lips. How did my theory fit with this? He wanted her to make a tape of herself and her lover-du-jour? I wondered about him watching this. Would it have excruciating for him? Could he really have wanted this, or was she simply cruel? I supposed he must have wanted it, or else, why keep it. Him wanting it was the only explanation. And what about Mom? Was this just her going along with her pervert husband's fantasy for her marriage's sake? I knew what Steph thought, but that just couldn't add up - not totally. Nobody could have made her do this if she didn't want to could they? My finger hovered over the play button. This was a little too much, even for me. My mother was beautiful. Sexy and voluptuous. Even well into middle age now, she was still every man's dream. At the time that she made this film she was probably at the very peak of her beauty.

But still - could I watch my Mom fuck her lover? I bit my lip. Without thinking too hard about it, which I knew would allow my conscience time to explain why this was a very bad idea, I resolved to watch a little more and stop if it got too weird. I pressed play again.

The tape started with Mom backing away again. On a more normal sound level I realised that she was actually whispering to the camera. She turned to one side and I saw that Vince (or whatever his name was), was asleep, naked except for boxers, on the bed. She grinned back at the camera, then ever so slowly and deliberately, reached behind herself and began to unzip her dress. All the while, she kept her eyes locked on the camera. She must have know the effect this would have. Beneath the green satin dress she wore a cream basque, with half cups, lifting and presenting her breasts. She seemed to be stifling a giggle as she let the dress slip to the floor and then bent, lifted it, and came to the camera again, obscuring the lens briefly as she draped the dress over it, then fiddled with it as she arranged the dress over it. She was hiding the video camera. Clearly Vince wasn't to know that they were being taped.

When she was satisfied with it, she again leaned in to the camera, and whispered. I blew him after the competition. Here in the hotel room. He's had a bit to drink and he dozed off. Now it's my turn."

She smiled, impishly, cocquettishly.

"And yours." - Another grin - "If you're not already in your little white skirt, then get into it now, 'cause as soon as I wake him up, he's going to fuck....me....senseless."

As she said these last words, she closed her eyes and threw back her head, as if in anticipation of the bedding she was going to receive. I slammed my finger onto the stop button and pressed eject. My hands were shaking and sweating. The tape took an age to eject. I was too keyed up to wait. I got up and walked into the kitchen.

"Jesus. Jesus. Jesus." I whispered to myself. "That was too much. Whew."

I laughed out loud, nervously, though there was nobody there to hear.

"Fuck." I said finally, my hands on the edge of the sink.

"Fuck."

One thing was for sure. They were both into it. She wasn't doing that just for her own benefit or for his. I breathed out again.

"That's a good thing, right?" I said out loud. Talking to myself seemed to help to distract myself from what I had seen.

"Yes it is, I replied. They were adults. I'm hardly in a position to judge anyone's sexual preferences. If it works for them....."

There I trailed off. It hadn't worked for them. They'd split up. What had done it? I couldn't believe Steph's theory. Apart from the fact that I didn't think my Dad would drop my Mom just because she'd got older, it just wasn't accurate. She was still very good looking when they go divorced. Heck, she still was. She could certainly have attracted a whole string of Vince's, if she'd wanted to, she probably still could. No. It was something else that had forced them apart Jealousy?

A pang of memory gripped my heart in it's icy fist. Kurt and Ellen. Shit. The whole tape thing had cleared my mind of that for a while. Now it was back in spades. When would these feelings go away I wondered as I prepared a sandwich for myself. Never? The lyrics of a thousand sad love songs went around in my head. Not much consolation there. I decided not to listen to any music in the near future. Ever love song would likely break my heart. I munched my sandwich and sipped my glass of cold milk.

As I ate in silence, I heard the back door swing open and closed. See? I thought to myself. Steph left the back door open. This could be her returning now, or Uncle Ken or someone here to read the meter or anything. If I'd been dressed up I would have been caught.

It wasn't somebody to read the meter. It was Ellen.

She walked in with a huge smile all over her beautiful face. She was wearing a tennis outfit with a very short skirt. She looked terrific.

"Hi hon." She said as she walked into the kitchen without a care in the world. "Whadja' doin'?"

I gaped at her. She came over and playfully took took my sandwich, took a bite out of it, put it back in my numb, open mouth.

She sat down at the kitchen table. She became serious for a moment. Held up her hand to my face as if I was about to speak, chewed with exaggerated speed, swallowed and then began.

"Look, I've decided to forgive you for what happened last night. Actually, I was already forgiving you as I drove away. Really, I had no business to be bursting in on you like that, and well, everybody masturbates, even me." She rolled her eyes in mock admonishment of surprise that I wasn't showing.

"No, no, really I do." She went on. She was in very silly mood.

"So, then Steph comes over, and tries to persuade me how much you love and care for me, and how sorry you are and all, as if I needed to be told all this, and then you rang so, let's just forget the whole thing. Sheesh, you know how kinky I am already and well, having a quick wank over a porn magazine is pretty mainstream compared to some of the stuff we've got up to together so, I think the best thing to do is just to forget all about it.....except........." She paused meaningfully. Looking at me from under her eyelids with a suddenly very serious expression.

"What?" I asked. Was she just about to tell me that she was banging Kurt Andrews now, and always had been.

"You know."She said.

"Kurt Andrews?" I asked, incredulous. Did she really think that I was going to say this was okay? Was I going to? My mind whirled dizzily for a second. Could I do that? Share her? Ignore the fact she was seeing someone else? Other people? In fact had this always been the way it was with us and I was only now realising it? Jesus! Did I think that we were boyfriend-girlfriend exclusively when she was just playing me?

In the seconds all these thoughts took to chase each other round my brain, Ellen just frowned.

"Kurt Andrews? What's he got to do with anything? Did Steph tell you he'd called? Have you been talking to my Mother?" She seemed confused or at least did a very good imitation.

I gritted my teeth.

"I rang. This morning to apologise some more. He was there, Steph had already left. He said he'd give you a message ... in bed."

Ellen's eyes went wide. She moved back, away from me, a look of surprised shock on her face, but tempered with - what? Contempt?

"Oooooooooh." She said. "I get this now. And I was just going to forgive you?" She got up from the table and folded her arms in front of her chest. She turned to me, once she'd collected her thoughts. As she opened her mouth I began to realise that I'd made a massive mistake.

"So, clever clogs here thinks he has it all worked out. Ellen goes to a party leaving Ken behind. She's such a complete slut that she can't be trusted to keep her knickers on, even for one night. As soon as she leaves her boyfriend - who she's just found wanking over pictures of his stepmother - she hops into bed with the first ex-boyfriend she finds. Then she just sneaks back over here to tell her Ken that it's all better now. Is that it?"

She shouted the last part as she leaned over the kitchen table into my face. Her face flushed and angry.

I cringed. "That's not it?" I squeaked.

"Is that what you think of me? I thought you at least would look past how I look, and disregard al the viscous, petty little rumors about me and see me for who I am."

She paused. I tried to speak. "I...."

"No. No. No. I'm just a tramp to you. Steph had to drag me to that party. I sat around, miserable, trying to fend those creeps off, every time Steph wasn't there to protect me. We left early because I was so miserable." She looked at me, meaningfully.

"I missed you." I would have called straight over this morning but Steph told me not to distract you today. I was going to call over, forgive you for lusting after other women, have a cuddle and then have a game of tennis. But what do I get? Accusations."

"I, I'm sorry Ellen, but he said, he said he'd give you a message, in bed. He was at your place."

"Doesn't matter!" Se shrieked."You should trust me. I love you. I love only you."

For the second time that morning, I felt like shit. Ellen was close to tears. My instincts saved me. I leaped up and came around the table, put my arms around her.

"It's okay, it's okay, I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I thought I'd lost you. It's hard for me. I'm not good at this stuff. I've never had a girlfriend before at all, and now the most beautiful girl in the world is in love with me. And I'm mixed up about other stuff too. I'm sorry. I'm very very sorry."

Ellen was easier to placate that Steph. She put her arms around me too, and kissed me on the neck. "It's okay, it's okay." She said. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to be so hard on you."

I released her.

"So what was it?" I asked.

She frowned, a brief look of anger crossed her face and then cleared. "Oh, what was the thing - "except?" - oh just that you'll be living with Chérie, here so I was warning you off her. I mean, you'll be here together. You obviously fancy her, you're nearer her age that your Dad, and really cute aswel. So, just remember you're my boy, or girl." She grinned at me.

"Right." I said slowly. "Okay, I think I can give you every assurance on that score." I said.

She frowned at me again.

"Okay, okay. I promise. I won't go near Chérie."

She nodded, and put her arms around me again. We held each other for a moment. I was keenly aware that I'd had no explanation for Kurt's presence in her home this morning. I was also conscious that probing for details might be tantamount to not trusting her. I kept my peace. It was wonderful, just to have her back. We held each other as we talked. She was going to play tennis with her friend Claire in the afternoon. She asked if I liked her outfit, and when I told her that I did, very much, she asked if I'd like to try it on.

"We have an hour." She whispered.

And so, I went from the depths of sadness and despair to the heavenly state of trying on my girlfriend's clothes. In my bedroom, as soon as I had the dress over my head she was all over me. She loved to pet, to caress and be caressed, whispering to me all the time, telling me she loved me, encouraging me to massage her gently through her bra and panties. She liked to go as slowly as possible, building sexual tension in deliberate, but treacle-slow increments. I was more impetuous, always wanting to go faster, but always ready to be guided, admonished. Pretty quickly, Ellen had opened up my hidden lingerie drawer. She tried on some things, put me in others finally draping herself across my lap for a spanking, back in her own tennis dress again.

"Please." She asked, sweeping up her hem to reveal her bare ass cheeks. I like to spank her, but only because she seemed to enjoy it so. I would never suggest it. She loved it though, loved it particularly when I spoke to her while I did so.

"Mmmmmm. You like that, don't you?" I asked as she squirmed on my lap, her breath shortening.

"Aaaaaahhh" She moaned, beyond words. I stopped, lifted her onto her back on the bed, propped her ass up with a pillow and sank my mouth between her legs, sucking and rasping on her clit as she had showed me that first time together.

She came and gasped and held her breath and exhaled sharply and dug her nails into my scalp, lifting herself off the bed before finally subsiding. As soon as she had strength she pulled me and coaxed until I was lying beside her again. I hadn't come yet and my penis made a soft white tent in the stretchy panties she'd put me in. She grinned and gripped my cock though the nylon.

"Mmmmm. Lovely." She purred. "Now you. What is it you fantasize about when you masturbate? Be honest. I can't be shocked or disappointed. Is is Stephanie."

"No!" I said, shocked myself.

"Really?" She asked. "I could understand if you did. It would be okay, just in your own mind. I think about her always when I bring myself off."

Her had was slowly stroking me through the panties. Just enough to keep me on the verge.

"Oh yes. She's always been there. It's her eyes I think of. Boring into me as she brings me over the edge."

I was surprised by this revelation, but I kept quiet.

"You will tell me, Ken." Said Ellen firmly turning to me. "Now, what was going on in your head when you were wanking over those pictures of Chérie? Tell me. You will tell me."

"I was just, just...."

Her strokes grew firmer.

"...just looking, I said. I mean I wasn't fantasizing."

The hand stopped altogether.

"Now look Ken. You're in no position to start lying to Ellen. You start telling the truth or I'll get angry. When I walked in there your eyes were closed tight. Now what was going on in your head?"

I gasped, bit my lip. Oh god this was tough. Suddenly she leapt off the bed crossed the room to my bedroom door and was gone. Where was she going? Had I just blown my chance of coming? Then I heard her slamming wardrobe doors in my parents bedroom. Jesus, she had no sense of decency.

"Where?" She called from the bedroom.

I groaned. "Top left wardrobe bottom shelf." I called out. It was pointless - she would trash the place looking for it. In a moment she was scampering back, magazine in hand.

"Your Dad has worse taste in porn mags. than mine had." She said as she dived back onto the bed.

She sat, cross legged, beside me on the bed, magazine in hand. She held up the cover for us both to see.

"Mmmm." She said. "She has a great body. You don't notice so much in school, because she's so often in cardigans and slacks."

She flicked to the photo-spread, the picture with the chocolate-coloured tights.

"Ooooh." Said Ellen. "I can see the attraction. This was the one you had open."

She looked at me, an eyebrow raised. She reached over and, laying the magazine in her lap so we could both see, reached over, and freed my cock. She slowly pumped.

"Is it the dress, the breast exposed, the shoes, what?" She asked.

Again, I couldn't speak. I just couldn't. She caught my eye, looked into my soul. "Come on. Ken. Steph told me that she knows your fantasies. She thinks I do too. But you don't tell me. I won't have you keep secrets from me. Now what was going on in your mind. Tell me, please."

"Pantyhose." I gasped out, and she rewarded me with a stroke and a smile.

"I knew that of course." She said. "Now don't stop. What is she saying to you?"

 

I looked back at her lovely face. Could I trust her with this? I would have to as she would certainly know if made something up.

"She's getting ready to go out. She's getting dressed."

"Mmmmmm?" Encouraged Ellen, her hand like treacle on my cock.

"She's asking if I want to put my pee-pee between her legs." (Pee-pee, where had that come from.)

Ellen didn't smile, just gave me a smoky look. "Between my legs...." She whispered.

"I....I.....love the feel of her pantyhose on me. I love that she's so lovely. I....I....want to suckle on her."

"Ooooooh, poor baby." Said Ellen. "You're so hot and bothered. Mommy gets you all excited when she lets you watch her dress, doesn't she?"

Fuck! If her hand had been moving just a fraction of a second faster then I would have exploded all over myself at Ellen's words. Her voice was like honey. She was amazing. She'd needed only the tiniest hint to find the groove of my mind's little twist.

"Is Mommy going out?" She asked.

"Dancing." I whispered through my clenched teeth.

"Mommy loves to look good when she goes out dancing. Mmm. Its nice to look good. Nice to be admired. Nice to feel naughty and sexy. Does Mommy look nice?"

"Oh yes."

"Does Mommy look sexy?"

"Oh yes."

"Does Mommy look naughty?"

"Ah, Ah, yes, oh yes."

"Mmmm. Lovely naughty Mommy. She loves to do naughty things. She's going to do naughty things when she goes out dancing. Everyone loves Mommy to do naughty things with. Mommy loves to be naughty with people who like her to be naughty with them. Mommy makes everyone feel so good. Everyone likes to look at Mommy. She's so sexy in her tight, shiny dress. Only Ken sees her lovely legs in their soft silky pantyhose. Ken's so hot and bothered. He'll be so lonely when Mommy's gone away to be naughty. Mommy want's Ken to be happy. Mommy wants to go out and be naughty, but she doesn't want Ken to be lonely. Does Ken want Mommy to stay?"

"Yes" (There's more.)

"Hmmmm?"

"Ken wants Mommy to be naughty."

"Oooooh. Naughty Ken. He loves Mommy. Mommy is so sexy. Ken wants to see Mommy's Pee-pee. Mmmm? Mommy's pussy.. Up inside Mommy's dress. Inside Mommy's panties. Is that what you want Ken? Do you want to see inside Mommy's panties?"

"Yes."

"Yes, Ken wants inside Mommy's panties. Mmmmm. Mmmmmommmmmies pannntieees."

And she reached across me and kissed me full on the lips. Slipping her tongue inside my mouth and pumping gently all the while. The magazine fell off the bed and she broke the kiss for a moment, changed hands, whispered to me smokily again. "Mmmmmmmm. Up Mommmmys dresssss." Then kissed me again, shifting herself into a sitting position in my lap.

She broke off again, leaned back on her hands, thrusting her breasts at me.

"Mmmmmmm, does Ken love Mommy's breasties?"

I fell on them, sucking each nipple, pressing my face into the soft flesh. So soft, so warm.

"Mmmmm. Mommy's breasties. Mommy loves Ken to suck on Mommies breasties. Mmmmm. So good. So naughty. Now Ken can see Mommy's panties."

She leaned back. She'd draped her legs over mine, spread apart. She was wearing tiny black satin panties. My cock had freed itself from the tiny cotton thong she'd put me in. It sprung up between the tops of her soft thighs, next to the tiny smooth crotch panel of her black satin panties. She gazed at me for a moment.

"Ken wants to be naughty with Mommy. Ken's pee-pee between Mommies legs. Mmmmmmommies legs. Come on Ken, be naughty with Mommy."

She bucked her legs, bouncing my cock between the triangle of soft flesh of her thighs and the vee of her satin-covered mound."

"Ooooooh." She cooed. "Mommy likes that. Do Mommy's panties feel good on Ken's pee-pee?"

"Oh yes."

"Come on Ken.. Be naughty with Mommy. Be naughty with Mommy's panties. Mommy wants to b naughty with Ken. Come on Ken. Come on Ken."

I was bucking between her legs, my cock sliding through the lovely triangle she'd made for me. My eyes, gazing on her lovely face, her breasts, her body. There was so little friction, that despite the fact that I was so close to coming that I was in real pain I was only very slowly approaching orgasm.

"Mommmy Loves Ken. Mommy Loves Ken" repeated Ellen. Smiling encouragement at me all the while.

"Mommy loves to be naughty with Ken. Ken just needs to ask and Mommy can be here for Ken. Ken loves Mommy. Mmmmmmmm come all over Mommy's pantied Ken. Mmmmmm Be naughty. All of Ken's mess all over Mommy soon. All over Mommy's panties All over Mommy. All over Mommy . Mommy Loves Ken! Mommy Loves Ken!! Mommy Loves Ken. Mommy Loves Ken. Mommy's Panties! Mommy's Panties!" And I fountain, inevitably up between her legs. She leaned forward and caught most of it all over her belly, and her breast. Some shot into her face, as she gripped me hard between her legs, coaxing the great jets of come from my cock, not so soft and gentle now, but urgent, hard, sexual. As I came I saw her smiling face, caught her eyes lit up with delight to have given me so much pleasure. Even as I spasmed and came I offered a silent prayer of thanks for the unconditional love of this wonderful girl.

  

Part Thirteen : .

Ellen kissed me goodbye on the doorstep. She said that she'd be back later, after her tennis game. I'd still had no explanation of what Kurt had been doing at her place that morning, but under the circumstances it was even more difficult to ask.

Once I'd come, Ellen had simply kissed me, smiled and grabbed a tissue. I'd tried to gasp out some sort of thanks, to try to make sense of what she'd conjured up for me, the bizarre fantasy that had so disturbed and excited me, but she just shushed me with a giggle.

"Oh you seemed to enjoy that." She whispered conspiratorialy to me as she wadded up the tissue and began to dress herself again. "As soon as I started I could tell what was in your mind."

She stopped, looking concerned for a moment. "I am right, aren't I? You did enjoy that?"

I could only nod a pathetic agreement, there would be no point in trying to deny anything. How could she doubt it anyway?

She smiled again. "Good. It'd be so silly to be ashamed of a fantasy, especially one as old as that. Whew, you should see what goes on in my head." She grinned at me over her shoulder as she rummaged through my closet looking for clean panties. "And you will."

Later, downstairs I tried again to make some sort of explanation for the effect her words had had on me, but she just pooh-poohed my protests.

"Now, don't be silly Ken. You have a thing for being controlled and pampered by older, dominant women, it's not the strangest or the newest fantasy in the world, now is it? It's only natural you fixate on your mom. Every boy does. You'd be weird if you didn't."

There was no arguing with her, not that I had any argument to make anyway.

She became serious and instructing again. "And don't forget to study. If Stephanie finds out I was here distracting you like this, then she'll kill us both. Try to pretend I wasn't here okay?"

I agreed, with a smile and then she was gone, off to stop the hearts of every teenage boy and man at the town's tennis courts. I felt a strange feeling when I realised that the glimpses of her panties that they would catch and treasure were actually glimpses of mine. I wasn't sure how I felt about this. How would I feel if men were trying to catch glimpses of my panties as I dodged and leaped on the tennis court, the hem of my short white skirt flicking up and down with every step and leap accross the court, every eye on me, on my hem, my panties......

What was I thinking? Where did this stuff come from? I shook it all from my wandering mind and returned to the kitchen. The wall clock read two thirty. More than half the day was gone and I still had yet to crack a book. Aaagh, I'd be in trouble. I quickly cleared up the dishes, raced back upstairs to tidy away the magazine, clean up my room and fix my own appearance. My eyebrows were crooked from our exertions earlier and my wig was out of shape. I fixed my face and dashed downstairs again. Nearly three o clock! When would Stephanie return? I wasn't sure. I grabbed my secretarial books, sat at the kitchen table and tried, with some success, to concentrate on the final chapters for the rest of the afternoon.

I found that if I repeated the passages I was trying to learn out loud then I could both learn and keep my mind from wandering to any of the topics that fought for my attention - Ellen, Kurt, Stephanie's scheme for me, Chérie, Ellen, my fondness for panties, Ellen's panties, Mommy's panties.... No! Concentrate!

Stephanie returned at five exactly. My mind had wandered a thousand times, but I'd managed to drag it back. I'd learned enough to get by. When I heard her key in the front door. I smiled to myself, I knew I would pass her test.

I stayed sitting at the table until she came into the kitchen.

"Hard at work, eh?" She said, clearly not believing that I'd been sitting there for any length of time, but probably suspecting that I'd dashed to the table as soon as I'd heard her at the door..

"Yes." I said simply, not looking up from the shorthand exercises I was painstakingly writing out.

Steph stopped, standing right behind me, waited long enough for me to turn around.

"Was Ellen here?" She asked accusingly. She was amazing. Could she smell her scent in the air, I wondered?

"Why don't you test me?" I asked innocently, trying to avoid the question.

Steph's eyes narrowed suspicously. "Hmmm. I might just do that." She said.

I smiled, trying not to look too cocky. I had her, and she knew it. There was no way I'd volounteer for a test if I wasn't confident of passaing.

"Think you're smart don't you Carter." Said Steph, knowingly.

"Fairly." I replied, allowing my smile to broaden.

"Think you can pass any test now, do you?"

Suddenly, my blood ran cold. She wasn't just talking about Beginners Secretaral Skills. She smiled evilly at my reaction.

"That's right. If today is Monday then you've got just two days and then the weekend before you start work. Time for you to try this out in public. Reckon you can pass?"

In public? No way!?! Not now. I was beginning to shake my head, when Steph reached out and placed both hands on either side of my face.

"You. Can. Do. It." She mouthed silently, and kissed me on the forehead.

She released me. "Not another word." She said, as she picked up the two bags of groceries she'd brought with her and began to put them away. "We'll eat, you'll get ready and then when Ellen calls over, we're all going to go out. Now, put those books away, you're not impressing anybody. Oh, and I got on fine with my job hunting, by the way, thanks for asking."

I looked down at my book. It was easy to make it all seem like a fantasy, but it was all very real. I'd agreed to try and pass myself off as a girl. A young woman in fact, and on Monday morning I would be arriving at that agency for work. Could I actually do it? Stephanie certainly seemed to think so. As I put my books away she told me that she'd spent most of the afternoon at William's. She herself had managed to get a job with a firm on the ground floor of the Davies building with Davies themselves, who were the firm of architects who owned the building. She would start work on Tuesday, so she'd be close on hand at least - just an elevator ride away.

Steph told me that a few weeks before, she'd made an arrangement with Helen Smith, the William's manager to find a suitable temp for the Strick agency - the firm of lawyers I was to work for.

"I said I knew of someone suitable, who'd be in town at the time. You're to be our cousin, Phyllis, who is supposedly staying with us for the rest of the Summer. You, Ken have also got a job, working in Crewe, on a building site."

"Hold on there Steph. Cousin Phyllis lives in Brum. she's a real person. I look nothing like her, isn't this needlessly complicated, using a real person's name, surely we should make someone up."

Steph looked at me, hands on hips. She lifted an eyebrow. I stared back blankly. Her frown deepened.

'Think, Ken.' I thought to myself desperately. 'Why can't we make someone up?' Surely if we just invented someone then it'd be safer, there'd be no way to trace them, check up on them'...I had it. I spoke out loud.

"No social security number, no ID, no way to prove who I am."

Steph smiled at me proudly. "Yes. Inventing someone from scratch is possible, but it's just too difficult and would take too long for our purposes. And you are right, it is risky to use someone we know. But it also makes it much easier. I visited Phyllis in March remember, and I asked her to forward some items of post that I had sent to her. A credit card application, driver's license application and a couple of other things. One of which was a request for a temporary Social security number, which will allow you to work for a few months as her. You have a learner's drivers license and an ID card. Nobody would suspect. All we need to do is get your photo onto them, laminate them and away we go."

"But what about Phyllis? What will she say about me using her security number, her identity, won't she ask how I can pass for a Phyllis?" I trailed off. "What did you tell her Steph?"

Again, she raised her eyebrow on her pretty face. Damn her, she seemed to have taken a vow of silence where explanations were concerned. I hated having to work things out for myself. However, it did seem to be getting easier. I thought again, frowning in concentration.

"You told her it's you that's using her identity, not me, of course."

"Well. Duh!" Said Steph pulling a goofy face. "And what did I tell her when she asked why I wanted to pretend to be her?"

She cocked another eyebrow at me as she began to lay the table. I helped, thinking hard as I did so. We were laying for three, so Ellen was expected soon.

"Errr.You don't want Dad to find out about the job you've got? Working in a bar, he forbids it because of the late hours...?"

She was shaking her head.

"No, you're right, too flimsy, she'd find out." I said

I needed more information to work it out "What will she know in the end? Will she see payslips?"

"No. As far as Williams is concerned, she lives here for the duration of the job. They'll send nothing to Birmingham. The only thing that Phil will actually see for certain is a tax slip at the end of the year. She's a student, so she'll not actually have to pay much tax, so your few weeks work don't matter to her, but that slip will still get sent to her home. The slip will show dates of employment, total earnings and the name of the employer."

As she spoke I guessed again.

"Tax dodge?"

Steph cocked an eyebrow again.

"You're eh, double jobbing, and you'd get stung for tax yourself, but you'll use up her tax free allowance yourself, and she doesn't need it."

"Close Ken. That's very good, but not exactly it."

I was dissapointed. She was so bloody demanding. I thought and thought as we prepared the meal, but even as I heard Ellen's car outside I still hadn't got it.

"Will I tell you?" Asked Steph.

"Give me a hint."

"Tax is calculated over the whole year. Even if I double jobbed it still wouldn't matter, I'd never have to pay that much, but there's something else that..."

I had it! "Dole! You're on the dole!" I shouted triumphantly, just as Ellen walked in.

"Oh. That's dissapointing Steph. Couldn't find a job then?" Said Ellen.

Steph rolled her eyes in mock frustration, but I could tell she was pleased with me.

Over dinner, Steph explained more.

Effectively the job was mine, but I would need to turn up at the Williams agency the following day, sign some forms, show that I was presentable, and give some details - my bank account number for my wages - that kind of thing. All this made it sound almost reasonable, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and it would have been, except that I was going to pretend to be a woman and work as an office girl. Ellen asked lots of questions about the arrangements Steph. had made, more than I did. She'd never had a job, her Mom being very wealthy, and pretty generous to her only daughter. Her Dad sent her an allowance too, so she'd never been short of cash. Our Dad was pretty rich too, but he liked to feel that he was teaching us the value of money by giving us very little. In fact I was quite looking forward to having some money when I started to get paid.

"Eh, Steph. How much will I get?" I asked. Feeling strangely embarrased to be bringing the subject up.

"Ah. Right, Ken. That's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. It's just two hundred pounds a week."

That sounded like a fortune to me. Four weeks at two hundred a week would net me enough to buy all kinds of stuff Iwanted. But, Steph was still talking.

"But, as you might remember, this hasn't been cheap to set up. Your clothes alone have cost me a small fortune and there's been a lot of other expenses, so I'm afraid I can only let you keep a fraction of that - fifty pounds each week."

My face fell. This was a dissapointment. Ellen cooed at me sympathetically.

"Oh don't look so sad Kenny. Ellen will give you some pocket money." She pouted at me, mockingly.

Steph smiled. I wondered about her. It had occoured to me that they were odd friends. Steph was forceful, practical, calculating. Ellen was none of these things. She was clever, but she liked to be silly. She was vain and self-centred, but soft and gentle She had an easy manner and was very caring in a way that Steph found itdifficult to be. Steph had hinted before that they had been lovers, and so had Ellen. Had they? There were all those rumours in school. In fact, when I thought about it, I only doubted that they had been, exactly because it was rumoured at school. Was it possible that the gossip was true? While I wondered, they chattered away. It seemed that we were to go to a local concert, and then go back to Ellen's later. Her Mom was away, and Ellen had arranged a kind of mini-party and sleepover with some of her friends.

"Eh, how is this going to work, exactly?" I interrupted. "I mean. Yeah, concert. I think I can do that, but a party in Ellen's house? With your friends? Up close, they'll spot me for sure. If Clare's there, she's bound to see. She's met me dozens of times for God's sake, and okay, I can make it at a distance, but up close I'll be snagged for sure."

"No, you won't." Said Steph firmly. "It'll be dark. Ellen will make sure the lights are low, we'll only stay up a little while, and if it gets dodgy you can just say you're tired and go to bed quickly."

I looked to Ellen for support, but she just reached over and squeezed my hand. "Don't worry, baby. I wouldn't agree to this if I didn't think you could make it. There'll be six of us, including you. You just need to remember all that you've learned and you'll be fine. They'll be drunk too, which will help, and I'll make sure the lights are low. In fact, I already put a blown bulb in the main room, and removed the hall bulb completely."

Steph took up the slack. "Also, you won't be wearing your slutty dresses or your blouses this evening. Women's style cut-off jeans will be appropriate legwear for a young girl at a rock concert. You'll wear your black roll-top sweater and a jacket over that. After that, all you need is girl attitude and you're off."

I was beaten, two to one.

"I suppose." I said. "If I get caught, we can always say it was just a practical joke, or a bet or a dare or something?"

I stopped. They were both frowning at me. Ellen spoke.

"Let's settle this Ken. Do you want to get caught? Is that some sort of fantasy? Because if it is you should say now."

I looked from face to face.

"No way. No way." I said. "Jesus! You've got to believe me. There is no way I want to get caught. What are you thinking?"

Inside my head, I was spinning. Were they right? I could picture some sort of fantasy scene in Ellen's house. All their friends sitting around in skimpy nightdresses. 'Ooooh. You're a boy! A boy in panties! Let's spank him girls.' I had to remember that this was serious.

Steph looked at the ceiling. "It's just this, Ken. You've taken risks. You clearly like dressing as a girl, and a whole bunch of other kinky stuff. Maybe getting caught out, while dressed up is another fantasy of yours." She shrugged. "It's just that, if it is, then I'd...we'd ... rather you did it on your own time."

I got angry. "Now just a minute. I've worked hard at this. I've shaved, pouted, sat, studied, plucked and God knows what else for this. And anyway, if I say I'm going to do something, then I am going to do it. Okay, I've made mistakes, but I'm only human. I will not get caught this evening, delibrately or otherwise, so you can just forget it. Okay?"

Steph made a sarcastic backwards head movement. "Whew! Get her!" She said. "Okay, Ken. I believe you, for the moment. Just try to remember to concentrate." She got up and started to clear the table.

I was going to give her some more of my anger, but I felt Ellen tug at my sleeve.

"Please don't fight honey." She said. "Come on with me and we'll start getting you ready."

I followed her upstairs, still fuming a little. At the foot of the stairs, Ellen picked up a weekend bag that she must have dropped off when she arrived. When we got to my room, I discovered that it contained her clothes for going out in. While she showered, I had a peek. She was going for an indie-girl look. Short silvery dress, opaque blue tights, patent leather shoes with buckles instead of the ubiquitous Doctor Martens. She was going to look great. I quickly stripped off my own clothes. By the time Ellen returned, wrapped in a bath towel I was already half dressed. At least, my upper half was. I'd slipped on a little cami top over my modest bra, and the black cotton rolltop looked great. But they'd mentioned jeans, and there was no way my own jeans could be mistaken for girl's, especially with the shaped girdle on.

Ellen smiled and sat down on my bed to dry herself off.

"In my bag." She said.

I lifted out her clothes, and found at the bottom, a pair of jeans.

"Yes, they're mine." She said, but they were always too large for me. I thought I'd be able to have them altered, but well, I dunno ... I must have been on drugs.

What she meant was, that there was no way these jeans could have been altered. They were in a classic ripped denim style. Huge lateral vents had been sliced into the fabric and then painstakingly ripped and frayed so as to make them look like they were on the point of falling apart. A designer label on the butt reveled that they must have cost quite a bit when they first caught Ellen Purdue's eye.

"Aren't these, like, so nineteen-eighty-six Ellen?" I asked.

"Five." Said Ellen acidly. "And yes, they were the absolute, hippest thing when I bought them. "In fact, it's been so long...." She brightened, with big grin. "...that they're back!"

I looked at her dubiously. "How can I wear these, Ellen? The point of the jeans is to hide my legs, and these reveal everything."

"Black pantyhose, obviously." Said Ellen. "That's the look that's in now. Come on, lets get you into them."

And so, I was finally dressed. I wasn't sure about the outfit. I liked the rollneck, and the jeans and pantyhose looked okay, but I worried about being too hot. I expected the concert to be packed and stifling. It was in a converted warehouse in the centre of town, and only barely legal. I'd been there a couple of times before, for heavy metal bands. Tonight was some sort of dance event with DJs rather than live bands and I expected it to be very warm.

I watched Ellen dressing herself as I made myself up at the mirror. It seemed like second nature to me now. I remembered that first time with Ellen in her bedroom, and smiled at the memory. She winked at me in the mirror as she pulled her dress on and buckled up her shoes.

She joined me at the mirror, spilling her handbag full of cosmetics onto my table beside me.

"Careful." I said, as lipsticks and compacts rolled over the dusty tabletop. "You'll lose something."

She just laughed and grabbed at her face cream to start on her own beauty ritual.

"Nervous?" She asked me, as we moved in closer together to share the mirror.

I considered for a moment. "Not really, not about the concert. And like you said, afterwards, it'll be dark. I'm more worried about how I'll act rather than how I look."

"Hmmm. You should be. If anything gives you away it will likely be the way you talk. Remember, all you need is your breath. Don't let your voice get strong. Try to breathe as you talk, rather than just make noise."

This was well-worn advice by now. I just nodded into the mirror.

"Aren't you going to ask about the sleeping arrangements?" She asked after a moment's silent preening and dabbing.

"I thought I'd just see what happens." I said, fairly casually, but a slight frown must have crossed my face. Ellen caught my expression in the mirror.

"Don't think I haven't noticed." She said.

"What?"

"That you haven't asked about Kurt."

I pressed my lips together. "I thought I'd wait to see what you said. You don't have to explain anything to me." I said.

"No, I don't. I'm glad you've accepted that. But I will explain anyway." She sighed. "He called over that morning. My Mom let him in."

She paused, and added - "I didn't know that he'd answered the phone to you while he was waiting."

She went on. "Anyway, He told my Mom that I was expecting him, so she just let him wait, while she went out to do some shopping, and I continued to sleep in. She says that she woke me and told me that he was there, but I don't remember her saying anything. I just rolled over and went back to sleep again."

I stopped my makeup to listen to this.

She went on. "So, I woke to find him standing beside my bed." She caught my expression. "No, no, don't get me wrong. He'd just come in because he'd got tired waiting for me to get up. Mom had told him I'd be out in ten minutes. Anyway. He comes in and starts telling me that there's all these rumours starting up about me and Steph again, and how people are laughing at him, and saying I prefer girls. Basically he asked me straght out if I was a lesbian. Pretty much demanded that I go out with a guy - any guy - just to show that I'm not."

I must have looked surprised at this. She rolled her eyes. "I know, I know. It's so stupid. Honestly, I don't see why it should hurt his pride more if I am a lesbian or not. Surely if I go out with another guy then that's worse for him? But anyway, he's a moron."

"So, what did you say." I asked.

"What did I say?" Said Ellen indignantly. "I told him to get the fuck out of bedroom. To fuck off and get out of my life. I had no idea how he'd got in there, you understand and there he is, invading my room, and shouting at me. He's not my fucking boyfriend any more, and even if he was it doesn't give him the right to lie to my Mom and burst into my room."

She was pretty angry.

"And what else?" I asked.

"What do you mean what else? There's nothing else, he just fucked off." She seemed almost angry at the question.

"I mean, what did you say to him? About being a lesbian or Steph, or me?"

"What?? Nothing! That's none of his fucking business. Why should I say anything to that asshole?"

She was quite loud now - almost shouting. I tried to calm her down.

"Okay, okay, sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just asking. It's just that when I spoke to him on the phone, he seemed to know about me. I just wondered."

Ellen calmed a little, but she was still giving me her frowny look, her nose crinkling with anger. "Right, well, he spoke to you before me, because after I screamed at him he pretty much ran straight out the apartment door." She said. She calmed a little more, and went on. "Yes, you're right. He mentioned you too. I was half asleep when he came in first and started talking, but he mentioned your name, said there were rumours about you too, as well as Steph, but he didn't go into detail - not that I wanted to hear that kind of gossip."

She stopped, looked down for a moment. "He said you were a fag." She said quietly.

I looked at myself in the mirror. "Did he now?" I asked, quietly.

She seemed concerned. Perhaps wishing that she hadn't told me this last detail.

"Don't ......... " She said, and then trailed off.

"Don't what?"

"Nothing." She said, as if it wasn't important. She smiled suddenly, but unconvincingly. "Don't you want to know about your shoes?"

I did. I looked down at my feet in the soft, black hose. For a moment I felt very, very sad.

"Sure." I replied breezily. "What do you reccomend?"

Ellen was grinning at me. "I got you a pair to match mine." She said, and reached into her bag. They were two sizes larger than Ellen's, but otherwise identical. Very shiny black patent leather, big silver buckle, in the shape of heart. Chunky heel. She handed them to me reverently.

"Enjoy." She said, and I bent down and buckled them on. I turned my feet from side to side to examine them. The feminity of the gesture, must have struck Ellen as much as it struck me.

"Oooooh. Darling." She cooed appreciatively. I smiled back at her. It was fun to dress with her. Now, with our makeup on, and all dressed up I felt different again, happy to be with her. Pleased with the way I looked. It was good. Inside though, there was a dark spot. I wasn't sure what it was, but I wasn't happy about it.

Fortunately, though there was no time to worry about it. Ellen had got some other accessories for me. A black belt with rhinestone spangles. Very sexy. Once I'd threaded it through the loops and buckled it loosely on my hips, she held me still for a moment and told me to close my eyes. I felt her touch my face with the tip of her finger a few times, below my eyes and on my forehead. When I opened my eyes again she was similing at me, and gripping the lapel of my jacket.

"One more thing, honey." She said, and produced a silver heart-shaped brooch which she pinned to my top.

"I love you." She whispered and then without letting me say anything, whirled me round to have a look at myself in the large mirror.

I looked good. The whole outfit was nice but the black and silver motif on shoes, belt and brooch set it all off. I noticed that my face seemed to spakle. She's added those twinkling, shiny flecks to my face. Ellen's perfect face beamed over my shoulder.

"God, you're gorgeous, Ken" She cooed. "Come, on let's see if Steph's ready." And she dragged be out of my room by the hand, only letting go to rap on Steph's closed bedroom door.

  

Part Fourteen : Dancing Queen.

She wasn't ready yet. Ellen went in to help and I retreated downstairs. I had a another look at myself in the hall mirror. I loved the shoes. I loved my hair. I turned to look at my profile and was surprised by the shape of the jacket. Mmmmm. I stepped up close to the mirror, looked at my face, my hair. I had spent so long fully made-up now that I could hardly tell the difference. Male or female seemed to have blurred a little in my mind but I was well aware that others would not see it that way. I thought of what Kurt would say if he knew about this. I shuddered. If this became common knowledge at school, it would be worse than just teasing or name-calling. I could get seriously beaten up. North Wales wasn't known for a gay-friendly culture. Pretending to be what you weren't could have even more serious consequences. For a moment I felt a chill of fear, but it passed. I knew that given the right circumstances, frame of mind and even just a little luck that it would be enormously difficult to spot me. Steph. and Ellen were convinced it would work too, and they wouldn't mislead me.

They still weren't ready. I wandered into the den, threw myself onto the settee and picked up the remote. As my finger strayed over the controls, I got a jolt. The tape of my Mom! It was still in the VCR! I leaped up and crossed to the machine. I pressed eject. Nothing. I pressed again. Shit! Still nothing. I opened the front flap. No tape! I replayed everything from the late afternoon in my mind. I'd tried to eject the tape after watching the start. But I hadn't. I replayed again, slower. No. No I hadn't. I could remember hearing it whirring and clanking as it ejected but I hadn't waited. I'd been so keyed up by what I'd seen that I'd just got up and left the room. Then Ellen had called over. Then I'd remained in the kitchen until Steph. came back. No. Non. No. I hadn't touched it. It should still have been here. Sitting out of the machine after ejecting. Ellen had been with me constantly since she'd arrived. Only Steph. could have taken it. She must have walked in here after Ellen and I had gone upstairs, seen the tape, and taken it.

A cold sweat broke out on my body. Had she played it first or just put it away? I looked on the shelves, that I'd so recently tidies. Nothing out of place. I whirled around the room. It was nowhere obvious. I looked in presses, drawers. Why was I panicking? I tried to calm down. Would it be so bad? I cringed. Yes. Not that she'd seen it, but that she knew that Id' have seen it too. That she would know that I'd watched it. It wasn't here. Where had she hidden it? I couldn't find it. Had she taken it upstairs.

Almost without thinking I looked in the last possible place. Where I'd found it earlier that day. I reached in, past the rows of older tapes, feeling for the gap where it had been wedged. Yes. There it was. Back where it had been before.

Steph. had always known of it's existence. She'd picked it up and put it back. What did that mean? That she thought nothing of me seeing it? That she thought that I might have already known of it? I closed the cupboard door and rocked back on my heels. I'd have to talk to her about it. But not now. Not with Ellen here.

The plan for the concert was that we three would first go to a bar near the venue, and have drink there. Ellen had made an arrangement to meet other friends of hers in another bar which we had decided not to got to, since I was unlikely to gain admittance as I looked too young. So, Steph. and I would go to the concert together and meet up with the others later on inside. The stay-over at Ellen's was similarly complicated. Steph. had agreed to be the designated driver until the concert was over. She would drop various friends off to their parents houses and then ferry the rest of us to Ellen's. It seemed this was a common arrangement. Parents trusted Steph. for some unfathomable reason and were happy to let their kids go to events like this concert if she was there acting as chaperone/chauffeur. Ellen had promised various parents that Steph. would be filling this role on this evening and so there would need to be several trips made to various houses. Steph. had grumbled about this earlier, but I could tell she enjoyed the sense of responsibility. I was nervous. So much had happened that day. It was too much to think about. I had to calm down. I considered having a drink, but decided against it. I didn't want to get drunk at any stage The chances of being found out were just too great. As I looked around, my eye fell on the CD of the DJ that would play that night. I knew the music pretty well, but it was more Steph's scene than mine. I put it on, turning the volume up loud. The heavy bass and soaring synth sound filled the room and I found myself getting excited at the thought of dancing while I looked like a girl. I moved to the beat, surprising myself at how well I moved. I wondered if it was easier to dance in the shoes or what the reason was. No, if anything the shoes made it harder, but they did make me feel more elegant, more feminine. That was it. I could just dance, without wondering if the movement made me look faggy. When I danced at concerts, like most boys my age, a full third of my brain was reserved to monitor the gayness of the movements and examine the reaction of any males present. Swishy moves, even simply dancing too well, could be grounds for name calling and abuse from the lesser evolved. Now, as a girl, I could do what I liked. I bumped and ground, spinning and gyrating, getting into the thumping, relentless beat. I stopped, embarrassed as soon as I realised that Ellen and Steph. were watching me form the doorway of the den.

"Don't stop. Don't stop!" They cried as they joined me, laughing and dancing their way into the room. I reluctantly started to dance again, but soon, as they bounced and gyrated around me, laughing and throwing their arms in the air, I began to loosen up again and enjoy myself.

Steph. looked great. She was wearing a new lycra cotton dress, clingy but elegant.

She'd put her hair in ribbons, and added some gentle blusher to her usual makeup. I noticed that she had used Ellen's new pink lipstick. She wore a blue choker, the same type as Ellen's white one. The little details were like secrets shared between them. I remembered the shoes, smiled inwardly when I looked down at them and Ellen's matching pair. I laughed, and they joined me, not realising what I was laughing at, but just happy, and getting more and more worked up by the music.

The rest of the evening was something of a blur. What was surprising about it, was that not once, not even for a moment, did I think about the fact that I was passing as a girl. From the moment we fell, laughing, into the back seat of Steph's car until the concert was over and we fell, laughing into Ellen's house I was a girl, as completely and as totally as if I had been born with the genes.

We seemed to spend no time at all in the pub. It was packed to the rafters, unbearably noisy and filled to the rafters with a cloud of blue smoke - not all of it tobacco. It was an old-man's pub, and a scattering of geezers were grimly hanging on to the few chairs, and gripping their pints of warm ale with vice-like grips. Every other available square inch was crammed with concertgoers, in every kind of dress, but mostly it seemed, in very figure -hugging lycra, all of them shouting at each other and guzzling drinks as fast as they could. As soon as we ere inside the door we bumped into a couple of friends of Steph's. I remember shouting. "Phil! Steph's cousin from Brum!" about fifty times into dozens of ears. Beyond that, nobody seemed to ask any further questions about me. All conversation revolved around clothes - where I'd got them, how much were they, what did I think of someone else's shoes, wasn't Ellen's dress great, had I heard this DJ before, etc. etc. It was great.

The concert itself wasn't so much a blur as a smear. I'd had a few drinks but I didn't feel drunk. We met up with Ellen's friends inside, and I shouted into more delicate earholes, admired more clothes and swapped more makeup tips. Soon, we had taken over a section of the dancefloor. I couldn't wait to dance, and soon, Ellen and I were marking out our area near the front, with a group of Ellen's and Steph's friends, while the others stayed at the bar. Some drifted onto the floor and ten away again, as the music changed or they got tired, but Ellen and I were in such a mood to dance that we pretty much stayed put. We caught each others eyes as we danced and every time I saw her smile I felt even more in love with her and even more happy to be with her. I loved her so, and it felt wonderful to be alive.

Many of the fairly youngish crowd were on one kind of drug or other and I caught many winks as people assumed we were on a high from something or other. I winked back, but the only drug I was on was pure Ellen Purdue, with rum chaser.

What surprised me, but shouldn't have, was the attention we both received from boys. I knew the drill, from having practiced it myself. Boys, very cool about their dancing sidled ever closer to us, eventually invading the all-girl circle of friends, to dance near Ellen or I. Since I watched her so closely, I could see their eyes drink her in. Of course, they had to take small, surreptitious sips, as opposed to the long, delicous stares that I could revel in. Ellen was a master at the gentle rebuff. She'd give an enormous, generous smile, nod, and then, the same to me. Realising that she wasn't up to playing any kind of game they'd either sidle away or else scope me out. This, was vaguely flattering and also, to my total shock, fantastically arousing. It was almost as if I could feel their eyes sweep me like a caress, and no matter what they were like, cocky or shy, handsome or ugly, young or old, the feeling of being appreciated like this was intensely erotic. My thoughts of playing tennis, my panties on show came back to me each time. Strangely, I felt no urge to fight this feeling. I just accepted it, enjoyed it. One more bonus of all that had happened.

We had danced for an hour or so when Steph joined us. The main act had started, beginning with the same first track from the CD I'd played earlier. We laughed and hugged each other as before and soon the floor was very crowded. We were pushed togther in the mass of dancing bodies, as the crowd pushed towards the front and I felt myslf pressed against several of my neighbours. Strangers and friends, male and female. One man, maybe nineteen or so, took the opportunity to press himself against me from behind. I could feel him through his jeans, erect, pressed against my back. He seemed embarrased. "Sorry." He whispered into my ear. "It's the crush."

"Sorry." He whispered into my ear. "It's the crush."

Without thinking, I smiled impishly at him. "Of course it is." I said and he laughed and I joined him.

"You're gorgeous." He said, but then the crowd moved again and he was gone and I found myself next to Steph.

"Stop that." She hissed, but I couldn't tell if she meant it seriously or not. "Ellen's going to the ladies." She said.

"Right." I nodded, and turned back to face the stage before I caught the full glare of Steph's eyes. "Oh, right." I said, and followed Steph, as she followed Ellen as we inched our way out of the worst of the crush and towards the ladies.I'd forgoten that girls have to go in a group.

We'd discussed this before, at dinner. Ellen had said it was perfectly normal for two girls to share a cubicle, especially on a night like this, when there would be a large queue. We'ed agreed that she and I would share. I groaned when I saw the queue. It was huge. It really was better to be a boy sometimes.

Ellen squirmed as we waited.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked. She have me a baffled look, grabbing my hand and squeezing.

"What do you think?" She asked.

"And what's wrong with you?" Asked Steph. I saw you teasing that guy. "You watch out. If he'd felt you back then you might have both got a surprise."

"I didn't feel him!" I hissed indignantly. "I mean, I felt him alreight, but I didn't feel him. Eh. You know what I mean."

"Who felt who?" Demanded Ellen. "Who have you been feeling?" She asked, not sure if we were joking or not.

"Nobody." I said. "Look, it was just the crowd. Some guy pressed against me."

She grinned. "Did he press his dick against you? Did he like you?" She seemed to find it funny. I was relieved.

Soon, we wer inside the bathroom. Girls pressed around the mirror. Fixing makeup, scrabbling in handbags. Everywhere, faces were being dabbed, fixed and adjusted. Straps were loosened or tightened, straightened or twisted. I tried not to stare.

Ellen was even more on edge. She squeezed my hand tighter, and when she pressed against me it seemed that I could feel her whole body quiver. Suddenly a cubicle opened and as soon as the occupant left, she dived in and dragged me behind her.

"She really has to go." I could hear an embarrased Steph explain to the girl who's place we'd jumped.

But as soon as we were inside the doorm instead of going to the toilet, Ellen threw her arms around me and kissed me deeply. Her lipstick slid over mine and I felt her tongue push into my mouth furiously.

"Uuuh. Ken." She whispered urgently, giving me a pained look. "Need you badly, got to have you!" And I felt her hand, slide inside my suddenly open fly and tug down the waistband of my panthose and panties.

"Jesus!" I whispered in a strangled gasp as her hand closed around my cock and then painfully yanked it from it's nylon restraints, out, past the cold,sharp teeth of my zip and into the cool air.

Suddenly I realised that she wasn't bursting to go to the toilet at all. She was crazed with lust. Her eyes were clouded and her breath seemed to inflate her chest to double it's size. Clearly there was going to be no way to talk her out of this.

"There'll be no time later. Just want to feel you." She whispered as she sank to her knees in front of me. "Remember what I told you in the garden." She said as her mouth closed over the end of my cock.

She'd said not to break eye contact. Suddenly the sensation of her lips and her tongue on the end of my cock overwhelmed my body. Ellen pressed her tongue against the tip of my cock, and pressing hard her with her super-soft lipstick coated lips, dove downwards, once, twice, and on the third time, I felt myself buck suddenly and then I pumped, powerfully and in time with her bobbing head, what must have been a massive gush of semen into her mouth. She gulped and swallowed the next incredibly pleasurable spasm too and the three smaller, but still wrenching ones that followed. It had all been so fast that I'd hardly had a chance to think. Before I was recovered, Ellen had put me away again, and was standing in front of me again, still swallowing, a little droplet of spunk glistening on her glossy pink lipstick.

"Mmmmm. I just needed to do that." She said, looking utterly pleased with herself.

"Don't you want me to..."

"No, no. I'll enjoy you some more later. Now, turn away, I do need to pee too." She said.

Slightly befuddled, I turned away, and I heard her adjust the seat and reeady herself to go to the toilet. What was that all about? Maybe she just enjoyed giving blowjobs? Maybe she just wanted me to enjoy myself. It had been fantastic, but really, it had all been over too quick. I closed my eyes as I heard her thrumm into the bowl. Somehow, this was strangely awkward. She seemed to go for ages. I stifled a giggle. I heard her sputter a bit behind me too. The sound of her piss stopped. Paused. Started again. Stopped. We both giggled.She gave a another tiny last dribble, which cracked us both up, and stood up. I turned, spluttering with barely suppressed laughter as she grabbed helplessly at my jacket, her shoulders shaking with quakes of laughter as she almost stumbled, pulling up her pantyhose with one hand.

"Stop it. Stop it." She hissed, pushing me towards the toilet. "Go. Go. They'll be knocking on the door."

I stood. I noticed that Ellen didn't look away. It would have seemed pointless it seemed. With her watching, and with having come so recently, I found it hard. She kept making "Come on!" gestures with her eyes, which made it harder to go, but eventually I suddenly managed to gush a huge stream into the toilet bowl which seemed to surprise us both with it unexpected arrival and sudden loudness that we both exploded with giggles again, causing someone to shout "What the fuck is so funny in there? Is it blue or something?" Which of course, made us even more hysterical.

Finally, we managed to stumble out again. The shock of being in the ladies toilets struck me again for a moment, but I didn't let it faze me. I found a spot in front of the mirror, and after washing my hands, fixed some of the worst damage to my face and retouched my hairdo. I caught Ellen's eyes in the mirror, as she did her lipstick, and she giggled helplessly again. As we put our stuff away and skipped out of the bathroom, I thought I heard someone whisper - "Lesbian. She is." but I could have been mistaken.

For most of the rest of the concert Ellen and I danced together, catching each other's eyes, touching each other hands, sharing our secret love.

Occasionally Steph or one of the other girls stopped by, chatted for a moment, offered drinks, but mostly we were on our own. I couldn't have been more happy. Near the end of the night the DJ played one of his most recent hits and the dancefloor filled again. Steph joined us. She was going to begin ferrying some of the younger ones home before the crowds started to leave. She joined us for a few minutes. As she left I thre my arms around her.

"Thanks" I whicpered to her.

She frowned. "What for?"

"For my hearts desire of course." I said, looking into her eyes.

She laughed. "You got that all by yourself, honey." And she was gone.

After that song, the set finished, and the DJ left. The house lights didn't come up though, so there would be an encore. The crowd near the front chanted for more. "Come on." I said to Ellen. "Lets get our stuff from the cloakroom and find the others."

She nodded and we skipped away from the crowd. I wanted to talk to Ellen alone for a while. This would be our last chance for a while. Once we'd fetched our things, we went to the spot near the doors where we'd arranged to meet with Steph aand the others again. Most people were getting ready to leave. We sat in a booth by the door, watching knots of revellers form, break apart, rejoing again, as the floor staff tried to herd people toward the exits.

Ellen took my hand in hers. In the dark, behind the booth table, we couldn't be seen. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

"Stop." I whispered. "People will see."

"Don't care." She whispered back, childishly.

"Yes, you do." I insisted, trying to get a serious tone into my voice. "We'll have lots of time later. If people from school see, then they might come over, and I could get found out. And anyway, you don't want to spread more rumours about yourself."

"Fuck them." Said Ellen, with surprising ferocity. "I don't give a shit what those little sneaks at school say about me."

"Yes you do." I insisted. "If you get carried away now and you get seen, you'll regret it later, and then get upset when people talk about you liking girls."

I tried to wriggle away as I said this. I knew I was right, but Ellen didn't seem to happy about hearing the truth. She was in the mood to play, not to be sensible. Or at least she had been. As I spoke her expression changed, she was getting angry with me. Why couldn't she be a bit more discreet and sensible?

"I do..." She started, as if she was about to tell me off, but she stopped, paused and thought for a long moment, as if her brain had caught up with her sex drive and was pulling it over. Slowly, her expression changed.

"Sorry." She said. "You're right. Boring, but right."

I smiled ruefully at her.

She went on. "It's Stephanie that's making you so sensible, you know. She'd be proud of you." I thought I saw something else cross her face. A shadow, as if her words had stirred a memory - a sad one. I was about to ask her what it was, but suddenly, we were both in a real shadow.

"Ellen! You're here! I didn't think you were coming to this!"

It was Gordon Ansell. Known as Gordon Asshole, but not to his face. Dim, square-jawed, rugby playing, friend of Alan and Mike.

"Gordon." Said Ellen. Not exactly friendly, but not unpleasant either. "I wouldn't have thought this was your kind of thing either."

I noticed his eyes. The pupils were huge. A fine sheen of sweat covered his face. He was wearing a figure-hugging top. It was astonishing. I was pretty sure I had only ever seen him in school uniform or a rugby shirt in his whole life. Gordon had arrived in the nineties, and in big style. It was quite a tranformation.

"Oh yeah! It's fantastic. I've been coming here for months now. I was here with Gav. and Ben and Jenny and Andy, but it's really great to see you here Ellen you look fantastic I saw Steph earlier, are you guys back together? Hi, I'm Gordon."

Gordon suddenly stopped his babble and thrust his hand at me. "Fuck!" I thought. "This guy's out of his mind on drugs." I reached my hand to him and he pumped it vigorously, a huge smile plastered all over his nice-but-dim face. I realsised that there was no way he'd recognise me. In fact, I mused, even if I told him who I was, he'd probably just say "Ken. Wow.

And you dress as a woman? Cool."

Instead, I just said. "Hi. I'm Phil."

Suddenly he sat into the booth beside us, shoving in next to Ellen.

She looked at me and raised her eyebrows in a "What is this guy on?" look, but she seemed more amused than alarmed.

"So?" he asked, once he was sitting.

Ellen and I looked at each other.

"So ... what?" Asked Ellen.

"You and Steph, are you, er, eh back together, I mean." Gordon suddenly seemed less sure of himself. He looked from Ellen to me and back together again. Meaningfully.

"Gordon!" Said Ellen, shocked. "What are you saying?"

"Oh, come on Ellen." Said Gordon. "You know. I know. Everyone knows. It's okay. I mean. I know people talked about you guys behind your backs, but I always thought you were really cool, I mean I know I never said that, but I thought it. I wish now, that I'd said something when people were whispering about you, but you know, it's hard. Really hard, but you-know, I just thought that you were really cool, and I know it's none of my business, but I was just in a really good mood and I saw you here, so I thought I'd come over, it's okay, I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone...."

He had managed to talk himself from exuberant friendliness to hangdog apologies in less than a minute. He was gettingup to go, but Ellen caught his arm.

"No Gordon, I'm sorry. Really. It's okay."

He smiled, and glanced shyly at me.

"This is Steph's cousin, Phil." Said Ellen. I wasn't sure about this at all, but I smiled and nodded at the now-embarrased Gordon.

"And, no. Me and Steph are not back together." Continued Ellen, allowing some meaning to show through in her voice.

Gordon grinned at us both. "You're both gorgous." He said. "We should go out together soon.."

He would have gone on, but someone else had arrived. A thin, sleek-looking chap. I didn't recognise him, but surmised this must be the 'Andy' he'd mentioned - the only name I hadn't recognised before.

The guy glanced at us both, quick smile, "Hi!"

"Come on Gordon, the others are leaving."

Gordon leapt up. "Ellen, Phil, this is my friend Andy. Andy, this is the Ellen Purdue I was telling you about."

I could easily imagine what Gordon must have said, since, as soon as Andy heard the name, he imediatly galnced from Ellen to me and then back again. Ellen smiled, possbly a little unsurely.

"Right." Said Andy, nodding slowly. I was just noticing his figure-hugging top too, when I saw Steph apprach out little group from behind. "Please to meet you girls." He said and, rather pointedly, took Gordon's hand. The ex-captain of the St. David's first eleven smiled like a schoolgirl and stared into his eyes. For a heartbeat, I thought they were about to kiss in front of us, but the moment was broken with the arrival of Steph.

"Gordon! Andy! You raging queers! How the fuck are you?" She shouted, in a mocking, but not unpleasant manner. Clearly she knew about this already.

"Oh hi, Steph." Said Gordon, breaking his eyes from Andy, rather embarrased again. I felt sorry for the poor guy. If it was widely known that he was gay, he must have been havign a rough time of it. Up to now, his whole life had revolved around rugby. His friends, his family. They wouldn't take this easily. He was probably desperate for any kind of acceptance.

Andy gave us all a quick nod goodbye.

"Come on Gordon. They'll leave without us. Goodbye, Stephanie, Ellen, Phil. Hope to meet you all again sometime."

Gordon waved too and allowed himself to be dragged towards the doors by his fleeing friend.

Steph grinned at us both. "Shit. I think I frightened them. Are you guys ready to go?"

  

Part Fifteen : .

Soon, we were all safe and sound in Steph's Jeep 4x4. With us was Ellen's friend Clare. Steph would go back to fetch the other three stay-overs once she'd dropped us at Ellen's.

Now that we were out of the hedonistic fantasy-world of the concert I felt a little more nervous, but not for long. In the car, Clare Ellen and Steph chatted, mostly about the concert - friends they'd seen, not seen, what song's they'd liked and on and on. I supposed if I really was cousin Phil I might have felt a bit left out. The girls had known each other all their lives and they were so easy in each other's company. As it was, I was content to just listen to their excited babble and let the evening go on. All too soon we seemed to be at Ellen's. Steph gave me a little thumbs-up thorugh the car window before she sped away again to get the rest of the party, and I smiled and quickly followed Ellen and Clare inside.

We went into the living room. Clare immediatly grabbed the largest sof and sprawled on it. Ellen and I went to get drinks. Ellen dimmed the lights and I put on some music, turned down low. Soon we were just sitting and talking. I joined in a bit. I found it easier than I'd thought. It was easiest when I forgot to remember to act like a girl. It came pretty naturally if I didn't try to try. Every now and again, I looked to Ellen for reassurance, and she'd smile back encoragingly.

At one of these moements, Clare coughed in a particular way.

"Look, Ellen, I have to know. Are you two, like a couple or something? I swear, it'll go no further, but you're like, my oldest friend Ellen. I have to know, is it just my imagination?"

Ellen looked back shyly. I felt a little panic. This hadn't been in the plan at all, but clearly Ellen wanted to say something.

"Okay, Clare, but I don't want you to make a big thing out of it. But, yes, Phil and I are together."

Clare squeeled. "I knew it! I knew it. You're just so lovey-dovey. I knew it. Congratulations, both of you."

I blushed. I didn't know what to say.

"Now Clare." Said Ellen. "Please don't mention this. It's not really a secret but we're not really ready to talk about it yet."

"I won't. I won't. Of course not." She said, beaming at us both. Just then, Steph and the other arrived back, and in all the confusion of fetching drinks, fights over who got to go to the bathroom first and then arguing playfully over who had what seat, the subject was dropped and didn't resurface that evening.

The girls chattered and joked for hours. I talked to a few, mostly about the concert, a little about my imaginary life in Brum. IAt first, I searched each face for any sign that I might be recognised as a boy, but not once did I see even the slightest hint of a question. I was easily accepted. The only curiosity that was aroused was why I'd chosed to wear opaque tights under my jeans. "Weren't you too hot?" everyone asked. I rolled my eyes, and said that I hadn't realised that it would be so warm at he concert.

"That's the thing about those jeans." Said Terri, another friend of Ellen's. "if you don't wear something underneath then everyone can see your knickers."

"That doesn't stop you." Joked Clare and off they went again.

After a few hours and a few more drinks, eyelids began to droop. Ellen and Steph busied themselves with the sleeping arrangements, fetching duvets and pillows. I thought I caught a couple of curious or knowing glances as it became obvious that I would be sleeping with Ellen, but nobody said anything, or looked spitefully at me. I guessed that Clare's knews had done the rounds in whispers during the evening, but that she had said that Ellen or I wouldn't like to be pressed about it. Nevertheless, despite everything, the gossip would spread like wildfire the next day. I wondered how Steph woudl react to that. I had no idea, predicting her thought processes was beyond me, especially now.

Pretty soon, all the bedding was ready and the girls were rummaging in their bags for toiletries and toothbrushes. Ellen's room had an ensuite bathroom so I said goodnight and went in there. Ellen followed me after saying goodnight herself. She paused in the doorway. Steph was whispering to her. I caught Steph's eye, but she just continued to whisper conspiratorially into Ellen's ear. After a moment she gave her a peck on the cheek. "Goodnight, Ellen. Goodnight Phil." and she was gone.

Before I could ask Ellen what Steph had been saying, she came over and put her arms around me. "Hello Ken." She said huskily, and kissed me deeply. I forgot all about the whispering as my head began to swim.

Any doubts I might have had about Ellen faded away that night. I couldn't help myself falling even more in love with her. She was wonderful, loving and tender, and she loved me too.

It was the first proper night we had spent together. I was very nervous, but she made everything okay like she always did, and when we fell asleep in each other arms I was as happy and content as it was possible to be.

I woke to find Steph shaking us both awake.

"Get up now." She whispered. "If you're quick then we can be away before the others are up."

I could see the sense in her plan, and leaped out of bed quickly. Ellen wasn't so keen.

"Stay." She said. "Stay and wait for them to go, we can spend the day together."

She snuggled further under the covers, pleading with me and asking me to get back in for "Just five more minutes"

I wasn't sure where I found the will to resist her charms but I knew that if I got back into bed with her thne there was no way I'd be able to leave afgter just five minutes, so I contented myself with just a quick kiss and then quickly showered and got dressed and made-up as quickly as I could. I would still have to go back through the living room where the other girsl were sleeping before I could make good my escape so I tried to concentrate on my hair and makeup. Ellen made it difficult by pouting at me in the mirror and then trying to entice me back by caressing and fondling herself, while I tried not to look at her out of the corner of my eye.

"Please, Ellen. I don't want to go, but I have to. I have stuff I must get done today and it's my last day before work."

"I know." She retorted. "All the more reason for us to make the most of it. I have to go out with my Mom this evening so, who know when we'll see each other again - maybe not till tomorrow evening."

Inside I glowed to think that she couldn't wait to see me again, and in truth, I knew she was just teasing. I couldn't stay.

Soon Stephanie was back, overnight bag in hand. She gave me a quick inspection, flicked at my eyebrow and pronounced me fit to travel. We both kissed a rather sulky Ellen goodbye and said we'd see her the next day. She was rolling over for another nap as we crept out. We tiptoed through the sleeping forms in the living room and creaked open the door. There were some soft moans from the girls as cold air swept in, but no-one woke and soon we were in Steph's car and away.

It was true that I had a lot to do that day, but what was really on my mind was to talk to Steph about the video of Mom that I had seen. Also, I still wondered if I could find out some more about Chérie's former life on the internet. I was aware that I was kidding myself that all I really wanted to do was some amateur detective work, when really the motivation was to find more pictures of my new Stepmom. I pushed those thoughts away though. I wondered if Steph had done some checking on her. Surely she must have. She wasn't very computer-literate but I would have been surprised if she hadn't. I added it up in my mind. She knew about the magazine at least. She must have read the text in that article. She implied that the thought Chérie was some sort of a gold-digger, so she very likely would have done some checking into her background.

With a sense of some shame I realised that I really ought to ask her, but that I wasn't going to because if she said that she had done some research already, then my excuse to look her up in a search engine was pretty much shot. Still, there would be no harm in it, I thought. To quell the doubts I decided to open the subject of Mom in the Birmingham hotel room.

"Steph. Can I talk to you about that video?" I said suddenly, surprising her. She turned from the road in front, giving me a knowing look.

"What about it?" She asked.

"Well, just in case you thought I'd known about this already too, then I didn't. I found it when I was clearing out that cupboard. I put it on to see what it was. Did you know it was there all along?"

She considered for a moment.

"I found it a year or so ago, in the same place, watched some of it, cried a bit and then put it back."

Steph was looking straight ahead again.

"Cried? Why?" I asked, my voice betraying a little concern.

Steph sighed. "I don't know. Dissapointment, shame resentment? Any of those?" I can't understand why he keeps shit like that. Why does he feel the need to torture himself with it. What is the attraction? Why doens't he just throw it away?"

'Shit like that.' I wondered to myself. What else does he keep? What else had Steph found.

"Right." I said. I was more sure that Steph. had Mom and Dad's relationship all wrong. I reckoned I knew why he didn't throw it away.

"Well, thanks for putting it back. I was going to. I just wanted you to know that I hadn't forgotten about it, that's all."

"Careless though, Ken. What if someone had arrived unexpectedly? What if they'd been in the room, picked up the remote and pressed play on the video?"

I could detect a dangerous edge of anger in her voice. I wished I hadn't mentioned the fucking video now. What had made me think that she wouldn't point this out?

"Still, pretty unlikely though, right Steph?" I asked, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.

"I fucking did it!" She shouted. "It's not that fucking unlikely!"

I sat in silence for a minute, trying to let her calm down.

"Okay, Steph. I don't want to argue about it. I'm sorry, but I was so shocked when I watched it that I had to stop. I didn't forget it was there."

Steph snorted derisively. I cursed myself for having started this argument.

"Shocked. I bet. I bet you jerked off to it."

I turned and stared at her open-mouthed. This was a horrible accusation, all the worse for being almost correct. It had turned me on, but I hadn't done anything about it. Not that that was much of a consolation considering the little fantasy sequence I'd played out with Ellen that day. Wednesday. Steph had no way of knowing about that of course.

"Okay, okay. I'll take that back." She said, relenting her anger."You just ... need ... to ... be ... more ... careful." She said, puntuating each word by banging her hand on the leather-covered steering wheel. "Jesus Christ" She sighed. "It's just as well you're getting on so well with Ellen Purdue. You would drive any less-ditsy girl insane."

I grinned at this, and Steph saw me. She tried not to, but she smiled too and we finished the rest of the drive home in silence, each thinking our own thoughts.

Back at the house I quickly chnaged into boy's clothes. As I put away the stuff that Ellen had leant to me, I reflected on the again on the very poor state of my two wardrobes - male and female. When Steph and I had gone shopping before, the thrill of buying dresses and skirts had blinded me to the practicalities of what to wear to work. I would be recycling my blouses and skirts within the first week, and I only had one pair of slacks. I really wanted new clothes, even before I'd really started to wear the outfits I had.

My own clothes were even more pitiful. Gazing at the piles of baggy jeans and sweater tops, I wondered how it had never occoured to me before how grungy I looked. What had I been thinking. Meeting Clare and Terri had given me some ideas for new stuff I'd like to get, not so faggy, but certainly a bit more up-to-date and neater than the junk I had. I put on the best clothes I had for the moment and opened my wallet to inspect my finances. One hundred pounds. Enough for a new outfit, but in one sex only. I sighed, it seemed that I had gone from being utterly careless of my appearance to the worts kind of bad-clothes-day overnight. I gathered up the worst of my clothes - stuff I would never wear again and went downstairs.

"What's this?" Asked Steph. She was preparing some breakfast for us.

"I'm dumping this shit." I said. "And then I'm going to go and buy some new clothes for myself."

Steph. laughed. "What kind?"

"Jeans and stuff. Boy's clothes" I replied. I gave her what I hoped was a suitable entreating look. "Would you come with me? Help me?"

"Nope." Said Steph. firmly, putting out the breakfast. "But I'll give you some advice - sit down and eat."

While we ate, Steph asked me what I had in mind - I tried to describe some clothes that I'd seen last night, or at least the style of them. Steph told me of places to go to try to find what I had in mind, at a reasonable cost. She also advised me on how to find clothes to fit and what to watch for in quality.

It seemed she was going to go and do some shopping too, and then she'd be going out with Greg later. She would give me a lift into town, but I'd have to make my own way home.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" She asked as we cleared away the plates.

I considered for a moment.

"Not really. Last night gave me some confidence that I won't be spotted. Maybe I'll be more nervous when I actually get there."

"You'll be fine." said Steph reasurringly

    

  

  

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