A Wife's Indulgence (6)

from the home of WannbeGinger

 

WannabeGinger's wife here……The story so far has been one of my thoughts and actions as the wife of a young man who had, shall we say, a tendency to cross-dress. It had been developed, unwittingly, in his college days. He had helped a friend during her time as a junior hair stylist. Along with two other friends, he had volunteered to be a model in a hairdressing competition. Little did he know, this required his being a girl for the duration of a major event. That meant practice. He knew nothing of what was involved…. well, at the start, he didn't. But he had promised he would help. That meant having his own hair styled and coloured. That meant getting into the role of a girl.

He'd been left with a subconscious fetish which would under-pin the games we were playing.

The Morning After.

I remember as if it was yesterday. My husband and me. Last night we'd had just survived a pig of a day. A beautiful start with my hubby dressed and "glammed-up" for me. My day at the office wearing a shirt and tie of his, to remind me of the way he would be dressed all day at home……… It all had gone "pear-shaped" when I returned home, to find him in a mess…. a complete mess. He had over-indulged himself and got into a state where my dressing skills were wasted. If we were to go on with my plans, to expose his girly side, we would have to regress and recover…. fast!

We had done so. His feelings of guilt assuaged, we had made love last evening - for hours - and slept soundly, caringly, gently, together. All wasn't lost. He hadn't "got it up" but had used our little fucker with his usual skills….. I was well and truly fucked by the time sleep came around. It was heaven. ……Though I remember wondering if this would be a pattern for behaviours in future.

Would it be me indulging my passion for his transformation, followed every time with his getting carried away with the idea and ruining everything? Was it me ruining everything/ Should I stop pressuring him? Was I pressuring him anyway? He'd broken down yesterday but, tomorrow, ……??

 

I loved the feel of him, I imagined him dressed as I had enticed him to be. Underwear to die for. Soft and silky. His girly "side" exposed. His face made-up with the most expensive cosmetics

I could find for him. As subtle a look as I could create. (There might be times for a Tart to emerge in him, but for now, subtle and girly was good). He agreed. In two days, he had become quite choosy about his cosmetics. So, he'd cracked a little yesterday. Tomorrow was to be better.

That told me my plan was taking shape well.

I woke the next morning, again well before he did. I showered and caressed my own skin with a great soft bath sheet. I smoothed my skin with moisturizer. I massaged my tits and played with the nipples which responded quickly. I was horny – especially after the fucker last night.

"Go shower, honey!" I implored him as he woke. "Get ready for me".

Sleepily, he rose from the bed and went to the bathroom. While he was there, I forced myself to decide how he would spend the day. Was I to let him alone with himself, like yesterday, and risk him having another set-back? Or should I plan his day for him? Not give him any excuse to go wanking the day away. I thought so. He would do as I told him and stay on "my" track.

My thoughts from the night-time became formalized; my plan was hatched in the time he was away! He returned from the bathroom, wrapped in a bath sheet and with a towel around his head, hiding his hair. He smiled, looking down at me on the bed. "You're gorgeous….." He began.

 

"Not half as gorgeous as you are, honey." I said. "Come here and cuddle me." The towel in front of him rose slowly indicating an excitement stirring. "I want you to fuck me, just the same as last night….." I continued. "Mmmmmm…." he purred.

 

"But not now……………….Tonight!………"

"I want you to spend all day getting ready. This is a big test. Nothing like yesterday……. You've got things to do every hour of the day… and if you do them well, we'll be ideally set for a wonderful night tonight." (When has a wife laid out such ideas?, I wondered).

"Why not now?" He asked.

"Because, you're not ready!……." I said, purposely missing the point.

 

"Yes, I am, I am…….." He pointed to the divide in his towel where his cock now emerged. "Really, I am!"

 

"Not in that way…." I joked seductively. "That's the 'extra' you promised me….. well, I mean the rest of you. Today, my girl, you'll be a girl for me when I get home. Then, and only then shall we fuck eachother senseless!"

 

"What things do you have for me to do, then?" He enquired suspiciously.

"Nothing you wouldn't find easy. Nothing that will change your appearance permanently. Just things that you'll relish and maybe like to do some more."

It was my intention, quite literally, to make sure that he was occupied all through the day -a long time when you're alone. A long time when other temptations are around you. I wanted him to savour every little aspect of a "Girl's Day IN". My initial idea to send him out shopping was a step too far I decided. He could do that maybe next week. Not dressed outwardly, but underneath! But not yet. Not today. Today was for him "at home, but organized".

If it worked, and if he kept his side of our promise, I would come home to a pretty husband who was ready to fuck!

"What things!??? Let's get a coffee and sit down to run through what you'll be doing." quietly, flirting, I whispered.

We sat at the breakfast table, both in our soft bath sheets. The coffee was hot and there was a spicy atmosphere. "I'm getting to like the idea." He whispered back. "This is all I have to do… lounge about all day?"

"On the contrary, my honey. You won't have much time for that! Before I leave, we'll set your hair and you'll have to deal with that once it's dried – maybe before lunch. You can stay in the towel if you wish but you might like to use my long satin dressing gown. Your hair will take half an hour to style. Then I'll leave. It's up to you if you want to allow it to dry naturally, or whether you want to use the domed salon dryer I have in the spare room. As you'll be in rollers, I'd suggest you use that. It will be the only time you have to 'lounge around'!!"

"I can read some of your girly magazines then… catch up on some make-up and beauty tips?" He mocked me… or rather himself. He knew he had to do all of this if we were to have that fuck when I returned from work!

I paused to reflect on what was going on here. I'm deeply in love with this man who, for whatever reason, isn't a great confident butch, macho, alpha male…… he's got a lovely tender side which I adore. That manifests itself in the way he loves me…. he can put himself in my place anytime – and especially when we're making love. I've tempted him to indulge me. I like the feel of him when he's "being girly"…. and he doesn't object at all. What could possibly be wrong??? Nothing….. nothing at all, but it's not surprising to have slight concerns if you're 'pushing back boundaries' like I am.

 

"Quite right, you can. In fact, there's another task for you! I want you to find at least three beauty procedures that we both can try next weekend, from those magazines…… Both of us!" I joked… but I meant it, and he knew I meant it!

 

"The next thing you will do, before getting dressed, is to take my tube of Veet and remove all the hair from your tits. Not the whole of your chest – just your tits. If I am to nibble your nipples when we're fucking, I want no hairs in the way. Understand?"

"Mmmmmm….I like the sound of the nibbling, darling." He said as he leant his head back. "There are some real bonuses in this, I'm beginning to think."

"Well, you're not at all finished with that….. When you've finished with the Veet crème, you'll want to moisturize your tits and that could take a while! There's some Chanel5 Body Lotion on my dressing table. Take your time and luxuriate in the wonderful perfume while you soften your nipples…. for me!"

I went on, knowing the effect that would have on him and his libido. "Don't you DARE use the lotion on your cock! No wanking today…. I want you all for myself when you cum in my pussy!"

And I wasn't joking! "Wank today and this has to stop!" I threatened him. (I hoped and prayed he wouldn't let me down.) "Don't you DARE let me down!"

"I won't, honey, I promise. Yesterday was a mess and I'm sooooo sorry for that!" He wimpered.

"OK, enough said." I continued. "That will take you to mid-morning and you're not even dressed yet. So, next, I want you to choose some undies to wear. You can go through my underwear drawers and LOOK – but DON'T TOUCH ….. until you've made your choice. NO rummaging through them all and getting tempted again!" I was scolding him for yesterday really, just as much as I was threatening him with something I hoped wouldn't be necessary.

 

"Put on the sexiest undies you can find. Leave the suspender belt and stockings I've laid out until later. Now, do the same with my shoes. We're lucky that you're only a size larger than me… you'll fit some of the shoes I've stretched as I've worn them. Then, you're alone remember, you can parade around the bedroom in heels and undies….. with your hair in rollers. What a picture! I insist that you call me at the office and tell me exactly what you've been ding and what you've chosen to wear. I'll then give you some hints about how to deal with your hair."

 

"What a morning!" He breathlessly murmured, clearly finding the talk of this making him horny once more.

 

"DON'T you dare soil my knickers!"

 

By this stage in his briefing, I had set the scene for more than enough of my fantasy for my homecoming. However, this would not keep him occupied for the whole day. In my plan, I had yet to get him dressed in his outer/boy clothes, style his hair and do his make-up… and nails! yes, his nails could be very time-consuming, couldn't they? I thought. He must have used nail polish before and so he could be set a high standard of finish even though he would be "out of practice".

 

"OK, so your hair would be dry by then, ready for styling. Your tits would be shaved and moisturized and you'll be dressed in my undies and shoes. And all before lunch!!"

I re-capped for my own benefit as much as his. Where to take him next? I decided that his lunch could wait – he had to practice eating without messing his lipstick. Before that, his hair should be taken from its nice tight roller-set and allowed to relax before styling. So that meant, hair and make-up, then lunch – a light girly salad!

 

"You'll next have to go to the vanity unit and look at yourself in the mirror. All girly, you'll be, with your hair in nice tight rollers. Make time to absorb the image you'll see. Then begin to remove the rollers. Start with the larger ones around your crown. Leave the smaller ones around the nape of your neck until last. Leave each curl as a springy roll against your scalp. Go slowly, taking care with each one – they're all precious. Don't whatever you do, get the hair in a tangle. Feel the way the curls are placed in different directions. Enjoy the experience….. and remember, …. leave your cock out of this; tucked away." I pictured him doing this as I talked him through the instructions. Just the thought of him doing this essentially female thing make me slightly wet around the pussy. Delicious.

 

"When you've taken out the last one, admire yourself in the mirror again!" I meant for him to take as much time as possible over this. "You'll be calling me on the phone very soon after, so keep the details and the way you're feeling in your mind. I'll want to hear all about it!"

 

Sharing……. that was the essential part of the plan. I would insist on hearing every detail and how he was feeling during such a feminine past-time.

"You don't get to call me until you have your make-up sorted out. So, still at the dressing table, you'll find I've laid out some of my delicious cosmetics for you to use. DON'T over do it! Remember…. 'Less is More'……… Less is more attractive. So, use light foundation and blusher, bright but light eyeshadow, a little mascara, and as much lipstick as you like!"

That would take a while because he was unlikely to get it right first time.

"Use the foundation all over your face; make sure you cover where your beard growth comes and well beyond. Go down your neck. Get up to your hair-line. Cover your cheekbones. Lightly cover your under-eye areas and the lids too. That will make your eyeshadow take better and last longer. Finish off with some blusher on the big brush. If you like the look it gives, we'll get you some crème blusher that will be easier for you, next time."

I imagined him doing this, alone, half-dressed in my undies with his hair in curls, wearing low-heeled stiletto shoes, sitting at my dressing table.

"Next time?" he said, almost flirtatiously. His eyes looked like Diana's – everyone knows "that" look that she gave to the cameras all her life.

"Choose your eyeshadow with care and use at least two colours – one for the brightness – a white or silver – and the other for vivid colour - I'd suggest blue because there's a brilliant blue in the palette. Finish your eyes with mascara….. and remember! that's the tricky one! Go gently… it doesn't matter how many strokes of the brush you make…. just keep adding that intense black shade. I'll do something with my liquid liner when I get home…. I can't expect you to do that yourself…. yet!"

I had plans for that stage…………….. but a long time ahead.

"Finally, you can indulge your love of lipstick and put as much as you like of whatever shade you want… there are several to choose from………. Get right up close to the make-up mirror. Admire your new look. Take pleasure in this "you" that you can see……………….Then, you must call me. Sitting at the dressing table…………………. Oh no, there's something I've forgotten – before you call – go back to the wardrobe and select a pair of stockings and a suspender belt to wear. Put on the 'garter' as they call it someplaces. Take off your shoes and smooth your hands over your legs. Don't worry about the hairs there - we'll deal with those another day - and slip those wonderful 7-denier stockings up your legs. That's one of the sexiest feelings a girl can experience. And then fix the stockings to the suspenders. The front ones are easy but you may have trouble with the ones at the back. Be patient. Don't get in a flurry; you'll get hot and bothered. Take your time."

He was still silent, his head tilted back, clearly imagining the wonders of what was to come.

"……………….Then, you must call me. Sitting at the dressing table…………………" I said.

A frown spread over his face………………. "What if I make a mess of it? What if you come home and find me with mascara everywhere again and other stuff………??? It's wonderful to think about doing all of this but……." I had to stop him…. Build his confidence……

 

"Don't you worry, my lover. You'll do fine. You know how much you fancy doing this so just take your time! I trust you to go for it the best way that you can and I'll help you with any little mistakes……. You know how much I fancy you – boy and girl – let's just enjoy ourselves. Now, go and find me a shirt and tie to wear from your wardrobe." I had changed the subject. he was distracted once more. I had saved the situation.

 

It was getting late and I had to be leaving for work in less than half an hour. I had to set his hair in that time… and we hadn't sorted what he would be doing all afternoon. Was there enough time? Maybe not, but I'd still love to come home to find him as we had described and agreed already. If all that took longer, I could easily arrive home and style his hair.

 

Quickly, as I was waiting for him, I went to the hand basin and wetted my own hair. I ran to the dressing table mirror and took my canister of hair mousse – L'Oreal's Elvive extra strong hold for colour treated hair – and I piled a handful into the crown of my now wet hair.

I worked it through and combed the hair flat to my scalp. As boyish as I could make it in just two or three minutes. All to add to the role I might play on my return – androgynous at the very least. In fact, I quite was taken with the image I saw. But I needed lipstick! I was just finishing a double dose of my favourite Dior's Diorific, long-lasting, Gypsy Rose.

 

He sat at the dressing table, having laid the shirt and tie on the bed, removing the towel from his head. His hair was a little too dry for my liking so I sprayed it heavily with Chanel's eau de parfum and added a similar handful of styling mousse as I had used myself a moment before.

"This will make sure the style lasts tonight." I smiled at him.

There was no time to lose. I combed his hair through for a last time and sectioned a lock from his crown. I took the first and largest roller from the tray and began to wind it into his scalp. Tightly, it had to be. he needed to feel the tug of each and every roller. Another followed, my hands moving swiftly. In a minute or two, the whole of the top of his head was covered. There would be a wonderful curly style to make as a result tonight.

"We have other things for you to do before I get home, so listen carefully. First, when we have talked together on the phone and shared some of your experiences, I want you to have lunch… a light lunch that's only there for you to practice not spoiling your lipstick! So, a salad will be perfect. There's plenty to find in the fridge. You can have a glass of wine….. again, it's for you to practice not leaving lipstick on your glass. You must lick the glass before sipping – like I do myself, always, and you've noticed. That will prolong the lips of those luscious lips!" Small details but important ones, I thought!

 

As I rolled his hair, I gave instructions. "Then, I want you to wash your hands in warm soapy water. Do the same with your toes. Then, you must dry them very carefully because your next task is to shape them and paint them with nail polish. Take an emery board and file them to a perfect shape. Never mind their length – they can grow longer in time (I had plans!!). Then, you should apply a base coat to each and every tow and finger nail. It's clear and helps the colour you'll be using to take better. It also has a strengthener to harden your nails for the future. (He would have claws to die for, one day!). Finally, and with very thin coats, you'll have to apply the colour. You should wait for each to dry over 10-15 minutes. Slow and clean sweeps of the brush. Don't "dab" at the nails……. And you'll find it wonderful, the smell of the polish and the texture of the nails when you've finished. Only then will you be ready to receive me on my return."

 

His eyes closed as I was saying all of this. I hoped he was listening and taking in the details.

I could tell he was somehow submerged into the total experience he was having.

I carried on, working with smaller rollers around the level of his ears and below. Just an inch in diameter there, but there was enough hair to roll around two or three times. Tightly, angled this way and that. I was creating a style from my imagination. How would he look? Heaven knows, but it was the process that was important - more than the ultimate look, s much as I wanted it to be soft, silky, fluffy and girly.

Soon, we were done and I had to dress myself and leave. "Don't have the dryer on too hot, my love. Take time and enjoy it and you won't damage your hair either. Have a wonderful day"

A further chapter, as yet unwritten, is planned…… I promise to file it soon!.

Now might be a good time for him to add some thoughts. I'll return in my next chapter with my homecoming that day (Day 3) and how he had done with meeting my instructions.

LOL Wannabe Ginger's Wife

I've asked him to recall the time when we were "just beginning"………………..

 

It's easy to recall college days. It's less easy to recall the time when my wife and I began to "play games", games that involved my feminine side… which I now firmly embrace.

I know I'm not homosexual. I know I'm not "trapped in the wrong body". Looking back, I don't know when I came to terms with the "me" that just loves the feminine side of life……… Just occasionally. It must have been at this "just beginning" time.

In my college days, I wasn't one of the "guys" especially. I did my studies. I kept out of major sports, not having the brains to avoid the need to study at weekends. I did enjoy the beers with other guys some evenings but never went on the 'binge' as many did. Maybe this made me a little different from the rest.

 

I did enjoy hanging around the Students' Union where there was always a good social scene, especially with the girls. I got close to quite a few of them and enjoyed romances with a small number… well, actually, just two. Call it love? No, I don't think so, but maybe being in love with the idea of "being in love".

 

I certainly fancied getting inside their panties……. in the more usual sense of the words.

I fancied the idea of breaking my 'duck' as far as sex was concerned. I particularly came to admire a girl called Karen who was studying for a Hair & Beauty qualification. She was a peach! Her long dark hair was lustrous and shining. Just invited a touch. She, on the other hand, didn't invite me to touch anything else! I came to learn that she was uncertain of her sexuality and was most probably bisexual. I was good to have as a friend, but platonic was all it would ever be, it seemed. Well, I'd like us to go further. I could have handled that "bi-" side to her! Perhaps we were always going to be "just good friends".

 

However, a time came when she needed help. I've written about this and you, dear Reader, may have read my account of that time in my life. This brought me much closer to another of Karen's friends…… Ginger. (There was another girl, Margot, who was definitely of a lesbian tendency and had a scary Mother who was probably that way inclined as well). Ginger was a darling. I fell head over heels in love for her…… I say "for her" because she clearly didn't fall over backwards "for" me……. at least initially, she didn't.

 

I just adored her. Her body was wonderful….. I think the kind word is 'pneumatic'… all the right curves in all the right places….. Tits to die for, and a face to match.

Ginger was also helping Karen with her hairdressing training. There was to be a competition. Ginger also volunteered to be a model for Karen in that competition. Margot did too. So, what did I do? …..I volunteered, without knowing what was involved at all. That led to my dressing. That led to my having my hair styled and coloured. That led to my living with Ginger for several months. My darling wife knows the rest of the story and it does not bear telling here.

When Ginger and I split, I put my dressing away in the metaphorical "box" that most CDs have in their minds. Push it away. Hope it doesn't return……. at least not in an embarrassing way. Keep the lid on the box. That was my mantra.

Months went by. I began to ease up on feeling that I might yet go back to dressing. My hair colour reverted to natural. No longer did I have to tell friends and family that I'd dyed my hair 'for a laugh'. It was behind me.

I was a solo guy, looking for a girl, like many of my mates.

My conundrum stayed in its "box". Thoughts of cross-dressing were banished. But I guess I did indulge my fetish increasingly. That was for Hair… beautiful shiny, styled and conditioned Hair. better still, beautifully coloured Hair. It occupied my waking thoughts and my "going to sleep" thoughts. It occupied my masturbations. It occupied many of my fantasies. Often, I would be the subject of the styling and colouring. Often, I would be left with a fantasy hairstyle to die for!

Every day I would be distracted by the hair that women I worked with, or passed in the street, had as their "crowning glories". I noticed that women who cared for their hair, generally cared for themselves much better than others. They used the right amount of cosmetics, and used them well. They dressed with impeccable style and confidence……… Just as I thought I might, if I were dressing still – which I wasn't.

A few would be my fantasy lovers, playing games with their hair as I fucked them wildly.

Rather few did that in reality. Indeed, none did, until I met my darling wife. Heaven would, therefore, have to wait.

I loved my private thoughts. They recurred and developed. I adored many women's hair. Indeed, countless women, some celebrities, some just everyday adorables I saw in the street or on the train. I imagined how I would look with their styles re-created. Such is the world of the fantasist I had become. I grew my hair as long as I thought acceptable in "polite society" – long enough not to draw derision from workmates, but long enough to play with when I was alone. I became quite adept with a styling brush and even worked with rollers. I practised setting my hair when I knew that I had a long weekend without commitments. I even dallied with colour, albeit temporary rinses, when I knew I'd have enough time before work on Monday for the colour to disperse.

I read some stories that I found on this wonderful website – Crystal's Storysite. I found the story of my dreams with Marti B and her story "Two Fifteen" where a young man takes up every ounce of his courage to go into a salon and, little by little, have himself gradually transformed. I SO much wanted to follow his path. Only problem came at the end where, instead of keeping up the joy of his femininity with return visits to the salon, he drifted off for months only to return fully transformed and living as a woman.

That was never my idea. Never in my mind at all. Not even tempted as far as my wife and I were able to push our experimentation with my looks. Not even tempted when indulging oral sex as girl and girl (well, one with added extras, ok). I'm a bloke at heart. I may love to transform my face and my hair and I may love to wear slinky underwear, but deep down, I'm a bloke and I love to fuck.

That's me really. That's how I'd express myself and when she asked for my contribution to her side of our story, I thought as I wrote and this is what you're ending up with, my friendly reader.

I can remember the first few days that she's describing in this story only if I rty hard. It all seemed to happen so fast. I do remember the flirtation and the first playings with lipstick and the first time I did wear her undies. Those were precious moments. I do emember the day soon after when I lost the plot completely and she found me as a very sad case having been alone all day.

We did make up after I recovered my sense of proportion. I wouldn't do that again – wank myself five or six times in a day, stewing her clothes about having been tempted to wear them….. Then the 'reconciliation' that evening. We fucked beautifully as boy and girl. The next day, I had expected to go back to being a guy but no! She insisted – though I might have had a choice, I'm not sure – I think she insisted that I spend the day getting 'girly' for her. I've done this many times since then…. and always I hope I get a little better. That day, I was making mistakes… but having the cool to slow down and go back, cleanse my skin, for example, and try again. It seemed to take for ever. But what a day!

We've talked about it many times. That was a crucial day for the way we are now – the way we are as lovers and husband and wife. Am I glad for that day!!!

WannabeGinger

 

Not much help, Maybe next time, I can get him to concentrate on our times together more. I know it's not easy – to see inside the mind of someone who's voluntarily changed his looks to quite such an extreme – when we're alone together, of course. Still nothing in the public domain. Even for as long as we have enjoyed our games, and as much as I have teased him about passing in public. It has always remained private. Just between the two of us.

But then, that's for the future, maybe when it's the end of my contribution. For now, I'm building up to how we are today. How we got there – and the feelings I had along the way – that is the reason I'm writing.

 

LOL Wannabe Ginger's Wife

  

  

  

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