Chapter 13 finished with me, Kirsten, more in love than ever with my man, "Ginger" in his guise as a girl…… weekends only, and even more than before, weekdays and workdays, as the guy I married. After that first wonderful weekend following a salon visit, there was little doubt he would call at the salon, as arranged, for his appointment the next Friday. I spent all week looking forward to it. Meanwhile, our love-making, on weekdays, was on a new level!

 

A Wife's Indulgence

from the home of WannabeGinger

(Chapter 14)

  

"It's Wednesday evening, honey. Have you thought about your salon visit this week?" I enquired. "You have to have some ideas for your stylist and your colourist, you know."

He mused for a while, his thoughts wandering. I could almost hear him thinking about the previous weekend and how it had begun. The colours in his hair were more muted now, having been washed a couple of times. The colours were still noticeable but nothing as striking as when I'd seen him leave the salon on Friday. He hadn't set his hair since Sunday, so it was simply left in a rough "he/she" shaggy style. He hadn't worn make-up since Sunday either. Forbidden in the way were to spend our lives. Boy in the week; girl at the weekend; that was his….. er, her!

"Oh, yes, I've been thinking long and hard about that!", he exclaimed.

"Well, tell me all about your thoughts.", I insisted but…..

"Oh, no! I have to tell my stylist and colourist when I see them!", he interrupted.

Oh…. OK, quite right, I thought…….. if he's playing this role for real, that's the way it should be. I was his stylist but I wouldn't know what he wanted until he came into the salon. Nor would I know what he would be asking of Emma for the colouring. "Fair enough, you're right, of course.", I agreed…….. cursing!!!

"You know, this whole way of going about things has changed me a lot, in a very short time.", he said, clearly priming himself to "talk" about his dressing.

"When I'm out during the week, perhaps down at the shops or walking the streets, I'm noticing the ways that girls dress and present themselves in ways that I'd never noticed before. Instead of having an "ogle" and dreaming of giving them a shag – which is what guys do, isn't it? – I find myself thinking about the way they've created an overall look and how their clothes and hair and make-up all fit together….. and I find myself wondering how it all might look on me!"

"Well, I make no secret of looking at guys and imagining how they would make in a fuck…… natural, isn't it? But then again, I do look at girls the way you do too….

It's part of my job, looking at other women……. assessing how they look, how they could improve things… especially their hair, which is something I can influence and change…….", I went on……

"…. There isn't a woman on this planet whose hair I couldn't change for the better…….. in fact, you're a good example…. you just let me do my stuff and … voila!…. your hair is stunning compared to how it was."

"So we both spend our lives looking at other women, then!", he said triumphally.

"But you go on to think how you might look….?, I invited him to elaborate.

"Oh, yes, now I do… that's what's changed the most. I look at their hair, their make-up - if I'm close enough – and I look at their clothes. I can't get enough of it! I spin stories in my mind about the way I'd look with 'this' hairstyle, or 'that' hair colour, or 'this mascara' or 'that lipstick'! And then, there's the clothes… where I have less experience, of course, and less imagination. Of course, if I see a right tart tripping down the street in four inch heels and a peroxide beehive, well, THEN, I can imagine myself….!"

"You're becoming quite a tart at heart, aren't you?!", I teased him/her. "Just be careful, because girls get reputations! I hadn't thought of you as a tart, really I hadn't, but maybe we can have sex with you really going for the character someday!"

The Julia Roberts character in Pretty Woman came to mind again!

"Well, honey, I'll be whatever you want me to be!", he drawled in a high class hooker's kind of drawl.

"You just get thinking about what you want at the salon this week…… that's for the future, maybe. This week, you have to come in with an idea…. something we can work with, Emma and me." I left him in no doubt.

Sex that night was brilliant. What was in his mind, I can't be sure, but we played for hours and finally laid back……. literally, "shagged out". Wonderful!.

************

Friday came around and I reminded him of lour conversation before I left for the salon. He assured me that he had a really different new look in mind that could be fun for "his stylist and his colourist" to work on. I left him still as a guy, in EVERY respect, as he lay on the bed, naked and gently wanking as he said "Bye, honey. Look forward to seeing all of you later!".

He confessed to me later that night that he had cum almost the minute I had left. He was yearning for me to see him at the salon because he was going to try a full-on girly outfit, no unisex clothes this time, for his visit. He confessed also that he was only nervous about one thing. Not being "sussed" as a guy by people in the street, no; just the possible embarrassment of getting a hard-on beneath a dress. Having it show. So, he spent the morning experimenting with ways to hold his cock out of the way. Major problem! He dressed in bra, suspenders, stockings and panties.

He had tried tape on his cock……… but the humidity "down there" rendered that useless. He had tried the body shaper, but that would prevent him having a pee when he wanted. So, he tried almost every pair of my knickers – high-legs, frenchies, every kind – but none had contained him. No good.

So, he wanked himself again, to reduce the likelihood of embarrassment, and tied a thin satin cord around the head of his cock, and passed both lengths through his crotch. He reached around his back and pulled the cords up between his buttocks and over his hip bones, bringing them forward to tie in front of his - now empty - pubic hair. It worked well……… UNTIL, he confessed, his cock started to rise for a third time! He had tied the cord quite tight at the start…. so, by the time he was even only "half hard", he was imprisoned! By his own hand! His cock, therefore, just went on growing. And he couldn't wank another time…… He literally could not cum… if he tried………!

"Whatever did you do then?!" I cried when he was telling me all of this, late in the night. The thought of injury was all-pervading. He could have lost his cock in a crescendo of an aneurysm if he wasn't careful.

"A cold bath!" That was all he could think of…. and just as well he did. It had the desired effect. The hard-on subsided and his cock was eventually freed. A lesson learnt!

"DON'T you ever do that again!" I chastised him…… "I want that cock for myself!"

***********

That was all later when he told me – after the salon visit.

He had, indeed, spent a lot of time on his dressing before setting off for the salon. He wore the same shoes and stockings as the previous week but above these, he/she wore a wonderfully feminine blouse, in a white/pink floral pattern, and a lovely summer skirt that flared from the waist. Indeed, so much so, it accentuated his/her waist beautifully. It moved with his/her body as she crossed the street from the car park. Well, I know… because I was looking out for her to arrive!

She wore little make-up… just some foundation, mascara, eyeshadow and lipstick.

She had washed her hair, so the last vestiges of the temporary colour rinses was gone, but she had volumized it well with mousse and strong back-brushing. She looked superb. OK, the walk across the street was definitely male…. (I'd have to work on that!)… but the overall impression was a guy doing a very good job of being a girl!

"Take me as you find me!", he/she said when Emma greeted her/him at the door saying "Wow, you look perfect today!" And she was right. My tutoring was paying off! We had spent much of last weekend with him learning from me many of the subtleties of "being a girl" "I enjoy being a girl!!" (Cue Doris Day!)

The salon visit went much the same way as the first. I avoided contact with Ginger, apart from a wave across the salon and a "Hi, Ginger!" "Hi, Kerry!" greeting. It was all I could do not to go over and ear-wig on the conversation about his/her preference for colour this week.

I looked across at her, my husband, sitting in the chair with Emma beside her, talking over the colour charts and the swatches of hair in the books they were studying. Which colour, or colours, would he/she choose? The hair was still quite short, by girly standards, so the choice of colour would be important for the way I would be styling it in an hour or so…….

"Hey, daydream!…." said the client I was working on. I was clearly miles away in my thoughts……. "I'm SO sorry!", I apologized. "Something I have to do this evening and I just forgot where I was for a second! Do please forgive me!"

"No worry….", she said. "…. I thought he was rather special too!" Clearly, she'd seen the object of my gaze. "What tremendous self confidence that guy must have.."

she went on. "….. Has he been coming here long?"

There was no way I could avoid the question. She was wanting information!

"Oh, the guy…. Ginger he's called. No, he's only just started with us but we hope he'll become a long-term client, just like you. It takes time to know what a client wants to have done with her hair and then to advise her the best way to achieve the look she wants. We have two or three guys who come to us for service and he's just the next one. It's quite flattering that they'll trust us, don't you think?" My answer was enough, I thought.

"Well, I'd like to meet a guy like that – it would be fun hearing all about him….. or her, should I say?"

He's mine! You get no introductions from me, lady! I thought.

"Well, he's quite a private individual – at least he seemed so when I cut and set his hair last week. Now, what shall we do for you today? An updo I think you said last week, didn't you? Are you going out anywhere special?….."

*************

Ginger and Emma finished their talk quite quickly, which must have meant that he/she had come in with ideas to work on. I saw them flip through several colour charts. It would remain to be seen what would be the result.

Emma signed across the salon to indicate that she would be taking around 30 minutes so that meant there would be no permanent colour for Ginger this week. His mousey brown, typically English, shade was a fair base for many colours, except blonde of course. I found myself wondering if he would look good as a blonde. Maybe one day……

*************

He came over from the colouring area with his hair wrapped so I couldn't tell what colour he was…….. Emma accompanied him. All was revealed after he sat down in my chair facing the mirror.

Surprise, surprise!

Though darker because it was wet, there was no doubt that Emma had given him the colour he had asked for which must have been my own shade of auburn! If I had felt it was unacceptable, I could have made them change it there and then but I guess I took it as a compliment. It looked fabulous really. No highlight, just the lovely warm base shade.

"Semi-permanent this time.", said Emma. "It will last for 6-8 washes and you'll have the colour for longer. That wil help you get used to the change and maybe prepare for something more long-lasting next time. Happy?"

"You must be right, Emma.", he said, smiling broadly. "Now what can you do to make the most of that, Karen?", he asked of me.

My heart skipped a beat. His/her hair wasn't nearly as long as my own but it made me think that one day, just one day in the future, we would have matching styles and colours. I really fancied that idea. I had only just gone for a perfect cut bob style that hung to my chin length. That meant I had to focus on the way to cut his hair so that it would grow quickest into the style for her that I currently wore. That back and sides had to grow faster. The crown was near enough long enough and would grow with time.

"It'll take time, but you'll have to be patient, so I will cut only the slightest amount today, just to even up the ends and encourage it to grow. It can be quite feminine if you're convinced that's the way you want to go." I looked at him – her – as if the question was pointless to ask…… she was sitting before me. He would be waiting at home!

"Oh, I've got all the time in the world.", he enthused. So we set to work and, after rollers and drying with a loving comb-out and back-combing, within an hour, Ginger was ready to leave the salon. He/she gave me and Emma a peck on the cheek after making a booking for another appointment the following week. Friday again. Same time? Yes. Same services? Probably. Beautiful. He was hooked!

After the door closed and we watched him cross the street for the car park, Emma said something strange. "You know, it's almost like you two have known eachother before. I can't say why but it seems dead obvious to me. I think if either of us asked him for a date, he'd have your number long before mine. Am I wrong?" She looked at me quizzically.

"Can't think what you mean, honey.", I answered. "…. in fact, I think he's more attracted to you than me." Which I doubted, but it was clear there was an affinity between them. "Does it bother you that he's exploring his girly side?" I asked.

"Not at all. I think that's something that guys should experience if they want to. It's quite clear that he's not gay at all. He hasn't given Huw a second glance and Huw's a very attractive guy – if you're a guy – I would guess.

"Oh, yes, I'm quite sure this fella's a hetero. He loves girls… maybe a bit too much!" I laughed and moved on to my next client. It was a busy day.

**************

Ginger disappeared from view as he got in his car. His white/pink floral blouse was just right. His lovely summer skirt that flared from the waist swished as he swung his legs into the car. He checked his face in the car's rear-view mirror and refreshed his lipstick just like any girl might do. And he was off!

He went home via the shops in town and called in to M&S to buy a new nightie. He'd been talking about that and said only the previous evening that he might do this. He also said he hoped he might track down the helpful woman who had assisted him with his first purchases. But I didn't expect him to do that fully dressed (as he was when he arrived and when he left the salon).

*************

My day was busy but the time seemed to drag. Every client seemed to take for ever to finish and it was with a sense of relief that my 5pm cut and blow-dry arrived. If I could get this done fast, I would be home by six. The client was a guy of about 17. His hair was long and in poor condition so it needed at very professional cut and conditioning. As I took care of him, I found myself imagining how he would look with an updo. His features were quite effeminate and he would easily have made a passable girl. I decided to play a little before going home! The trim was complete.

"Have you always worn your hair nice and long?" I enquired.

"Since I was about 14, I have. It's only been cut occasionally since then, that's why it's quite so long. I like it this way." he answered in a quite matter-of-fact way.

"You could have a lot of fun with it, instead of the ponytail, if you wanted. Have you ever thought of doing more with it?" I asked, leading nowhere in particular.

"Well, it's funny you should….." he stopped, overtaken with second thoughts about what he was going to say.

"Funny? In what way?" I asked, as gently as I knew how.

Silence. He looked in the mirror.

Silence.

"It seems that you have… but don't worry if you don't want to talk about it." I said gently. "We have lots of guys come in for really quite experimental stuff."

Silence.

"Like what?", he said, tentatively.

"Well, like a guy today came in for a colour with Emma, over there, and then a set and styling with me." I said, in an equally matter-of-fact way.

It was true. I didn't mention that the guy, Ginger, came dressed in some of my own clothes and wore some make-up and made a passable woman.

"Hmmmm…….", he was thoughtful before saying…….. "Maybe, one day…."

"Well, you think about it. meanwhile, why don't I show you how your hair would look in a nice high updo…… nobody will see and you might get a feeling for it. It's quite long enough."

Without waiting for his reply, I started brushing his long hair quite vigorously, making the hair at the roots tight to his scalp and holding the length high upon his crown. There was a good deal of hair to work with now the conditioner had added volume. I pinned it hard to his scalp and then folded lengths out into individual curls tha I pinned, one-by-one, against his head. I gradually built the petals out from the centre, leading to a very full profile that he could see developing in the mirror. It was quite a "seventies" look by the time I had finished.

If I got more clients like this I could start a separate salon for boy/girl clients!

I thought of Ginger at home… Just wait until you have this length in your hair! Ginger took over in my thoughts. I wanted to get home. I had teased this guy enough…. In fact, I think I made myself another client there and then! His hair had to be unpinned but he left with a high ponytail and I had little doubt that he would fall into the trap!

The hair in my hands had to be unpinned – sadly so because I had created something rather beautiful. Before returning the hair to a simple ponytail, I whispered "Don't try this at home!", knowing that there was no doubt, if I was a good judge of personality, that this guy would be working with the pins to make the same style as soon as he got home. Good luck to him!

"You can always come back to us for help, you know!" I said, teasingly but meaning what I said! "Thank you so much - I'll think about it lots!", he replied and with that left the salon.

*****************

That was the second week of Ginger's visits to my salon. The home-coming was tremendous with him dressed as her awaiting my return. She/he gathered me at the door and planted a long lingering, and very lipsticky, kiss on my mouth before twirling her skirt to show me how she was dressed.

This would be the pattern for the coming weeks. Two Martinis poured and waiting. A new style of dressing each week as she/he went to the high street to pick something new to wear. That way, her wardrobe was built slowly but progressively, with a little advice from me from time-to-time.

There were gaps in her wardrobe that needed to be filled. Her shoe collection needed to be about ten times the size it was in those early days. Her underwear was perfectly sufficient, but she did buy new items occasionally when she saw some things that made her feel especially sexy. Notably, she bought some high definition, ultra-slinky support stockings that gave her legs a real sheen….. the week after she shaved her legs for the first time.

(I so loved the feel of his legs through those ultra shiny stockings).

It was the fourth or fifth week that he/she indulged my wish that she had a manicure in the salon. (We do a while-you-wait service while clients are under the dryers). Thereafter, her nails were perfect red talons through the weekends and it was another "back to being a guy" thing to clear the polish from his nails on a Sunday night. It soon reached that stage where he would keep the polish on until the Monday morning!

By the sixth or seventh week, I noticed, he moved his appointment at the salon to earlier in the day. Instead of early afternoon, so having plenty of time in the morning to prepare, he moved to late morning appointments, so that he "could do other things in the afternoon". Like what? I pressed him for the details not long after.

"Well, I'm finding there's not enough time for shopping if I leave the salon around 4pm…… I want to look at more things and spend more time, maybe asking for help from the assistants."

He was fully into his role play now. He was not fazed by the thought that some people would still "clock" him as a guy in a dress. What the hell? Did he care? After only two months, no, he didn't! He wanted to look his best but if he was sussed and it gave someone else a problem, well, "Tough….. It's a free country and I'm not causing a breach of the peace!", he would say.

I loved him for it. I couldn't have imagined such eager participation……… and yet, the guy I married was still there……during the weekdays, HE was my man- and I loved him for that………… still do!

Sex with him as a male was mixed; sometimes he was rampant and almost insatiable. Other times, he would lose his hard-on and still be embarrassed by that, fearing I would take it personally. Other times, the dildo, our "fucker", that we shared was used to great effect whether or not he was hard enough.

He confessed to adoring the use of the fucker in a way that I hadn't appreciated – though I had loved it – where the head of the dildo was the last part to go in my pussy, meaning that his mouth could envelop it as it emerged, feeling like I had a cock of my own. As he parted my labia and licked my clittie, his mouth would surround a life-like shape of a cock……. So, in another way, we became a girl with extras, and a boy with extras! What a couple! What luck!

**************

My plan to live together as man-and-wife weekdays and wife-and-wife weekends was nearing conclusion, although I was sure there would be further developments.

My purpose in writing this autobiography started with a hope to encourage other wives with similar inclinations to my own to press on with a simple plan such as this. I was lucky. My husband became a willing and, then, active participant in bother the fantasies and the realities of becoming a girl for some time each week..

By the end of the third month of our "experiment", Ginger had a full (enough) wardrobe of female clothes. Enough for him to play his/her part in the washing and Ironing! He/she had a lovely collection of shoes which saved him stretching my own which are a size smaller. She/he had a wonderful array of lingerie and underwear.

We even, by then, had recalled the talk about the looks of a tart and had gone and bought him a really sexy outfit which I found and surprised him with. The piece de resistance was the Julia Roberts blonde hooker's wig that I bought to go with it. "Wow!" is all he said as I put it on his head. Blonde, heavy fringe and bangs over the cheeks, it shouted "Fuck me!". And I did… almost immediately! That wig was for the home only!

He was able to go out of the house, as she, fully dressed in a way I never expected he would, but it suited him. maybe I would have preferred to keep "her" as my own secret but, what the hell?, "Ginger" was out there and I couldn't contain her!

Her visits to the salon were almost routine now……. After three months, of course, we knew exactly what this client wanted and we moved him/her progressively towards more and more sophisticated treatments. The manicures became mandatory. A full facial make-over was offered and accepted willingly on a few occasions – "big nights out"???… or rather occasional "big nights IN!"

But most of all his hair became more and more the part that made his femininity convincing. I began to know that the woman who left the salon would be the woman that I would meet – and make love with – at home, every Friday.

The length of his hair improved with time, reaching the stage where, with an extra 3-or-so inches all over, he could have a bob-cut with a wedge shape that would gradually grow longer still; getting closer and closer to a likeness of my own hair. His/her rollers got larger and larger. The sleekness of the hair, (aided by an exceptional cut from me!) was crucial. He/she soon became able to shake the head from side-to-side and have the length swing in a most feminine way! He/she loved that when it was possible for the first time.

By month Four, Ginger's hair was still being coloured semi-permanently and the style was getting longer. He/she liked the auburn colour that was tried out in week two or three. Emma spiced it up occasionally with a flash of colour painted on to the temples or across her fringe. Ginger never complained and was always the first to suggest new touches. He/she was revelling in the attention given in the salon.

I was perhaps worried that Ginger might start to refuse to go back to being male for the majority of the week – on a Sunday night/Monday morning….. like with the retention of the nail polish…. but there was little sign of this.

(…………..and there remains no sign as I am writing this three and a half years later. Ginger is still my husband in the week and my wife at weekends!)

The conclusion of my story is rather tame, perhaps, because this is how we have continued…. over three more years……. Ginger still comes to the salon on a Friday and we have wonderful times continuing to experiment with Emma's help on the colours and my own with styling. The make-up and nails are routine… isn't that just beautiful!!?? WE are deliriously happy as 'man and wife' and 'wife and wife'.

There has been no coercion or forcing in this process. Ginger has had a wonderful new side of his character discovered…… as I have done. He is nowhere near being tempted to "go out and catch guys for sex". He remains a totally heterosexual guy… and a sometime beautiful woman whom I love.

Let me just describe the most recent visit to the salon and you'll see how true this is – and how much our lives have been changed by a simple suggestion all that time ago.

Last Friday.

We woke up in our newly-created bedroom suite.

We have rearranged our home to accommodate a total bedroom experience – the whole top floor of the house that once had four bedrooms now has a magnificent Master/Mistress bedroom with a huge bed. This is attended by two dressing rooms with full wardrobe facilities. One for me and one for him! But the one for him is larger! Why ever is that, I hear you cry!

Simple, his dressing room is larger because he has two ways to dress……. himself and herself! The wardrobes now have a full set of clothes for him as a male and another as a female.

The smallest bedroom has been converted into a beauty salon – for the times when we don't want to go out, but feel the need to be pampered – or to pamper eachother!

The bathroom is a delight – with a walk-in double shower as well as a very large bath – for whenever the mood takes us that way.

Even though it was a working day, we made love as husband and wife. He gave me a really good fucking, so much so that my toes were tingling all day!!

We then showered together and dried eachother with the huge bath sheets we now enjoy – pure luxury!

He donned his "boy" dressing gown and I slipped into my satin robe. We descended the stairs and took breakfast together before getting dressed for the working day.

Friday breakfast was a hasty affair, in view of the time we had "lost" fucking.

What a way to start the weekend!

I left him for work as he went off to dress – as a boy – for the morning's work he would be doing at home. He was due at the salon for eleven thirty. Hardly worth dressing in his boy things really…….. so he chose to lounge around in his girl's dressing gown while he made some phone calls. Ha, Ha! If only some of those contacts could have seen him!

Writing that makes me think how fortunate we have been with the acceptance of most of our friends to whom changes in Ginger must have been dramatic. Most of them took the first impact of dramatic hair colour change in their stride. It became quite a laugh between us. What was he doing next?! What colour would they see him next time we had dinner together?!

It was always easy to explain… that he just fancied a change and, as it was of no consequence for work, he could choose whatever he wanted. All of our friends know I am a hairdresser so it was easy for them to see how we could experiment.

Of course, we didn't let them see the changes in the way he was dressing – even when they came for dinner at the weekend. On those few occasions, he had to come out of his girly persona for a Saturday evening… but we made sure he was back into character by the time we switched out the bedroom lights!

Only when Emma came to dinner did we go through with the "being a girl" thing because, by the time of that dinner, after nearly three months, she knew that Ginger and I were the "item" – she had never met him as my husband previously.

"Lucky girl!!….", she said to me as an aside during the evening. "You see, it was true, he did have much more of an affinity for you than for me. I could tell it was so. The personal chemistry is electric. I bet he's a fantastic fuck!" She was clearly very jealous indeed – which I found quite stimulating, given the attractiveness of both her and him! If I ever thought of a three-some, Emma would be my choice!

Maybe one day! I know she'd be "up for it"!

Ginger's most recent visit to the salon brought me one great surprise. After she had been talking with Emma for at least half an hour, and looked through every shade chart she had and talked and talked and scoured many magazines and style books, they went off to the colouring area, out of my view.

It took much longer than normal for him to appear with his hair colour finished so I went over at one point, intending to complain that my appointment schedule was getting screwed up….. to find Emma barring my way through to see him…. "You can't come in!!", she exclaimed.

Then, a few minutes later, all was revealed. Instead of Ginger's auburn semi-permanent, which I had expected just to be retouched, there he was…… a real "carrot top!" for the first time. He had gone truly GINGER! OK, there were subtle highlights of a strawberry blonde colour weaved into the head, but overall the impact was stunning! I couldn't wait to touch the hair…. I reached out and lightly fondled the hair beside his right cheek and then his skin there too. Wonderful!

I spent longer than ever styling his hair, with the most intricate pattern of rollers wound tightly across his head. This would be my masterpiece! It is as long as my own hair now so there is plenty of choice for styles. This last weekend has seen him with a wonderfully curled chin-length style that has the sides curled outward in a seventies-style "Farah" flip and the crown backcombed to give height and volume. The streaks make back-combing very tricky, otherwise they lose their definition, but careful hands like mine can handle that.

He/she had her nails manicured again but with a much different colour - you can't have the same old crimson that set off the auburn so well, I told him – A fiery orange tip to each finger was needed. His own nails have grown to a very nice length – a half-inch beyond the fingertips. Friends have begun to notice the length of his nails and that was more difficult to laugh-off, but what the hell!

Off he went, to go shopping on the way home. Three years now, he looks confident in him/herself…. so much so, as I looked at his/her "walk", I knew that we had cracked that maybe final aspect to his being a girl. And don't we both love it.

I still get fucked from Monday to Thursday. My husband is there for me whenever I want him, and if he isn't, here's our lovely fucker for my pussy! I get girl-on-girl sex from Friday to Sunday and she/he has a new life to enjoy. Life couldn't be better. Nobody needs to go beyond this level if they're happy – and we are! Sorry, dear reader, if you were expecting a crescendo of bondage (though we might try that one day!), forced feminization, homosexual sex, gang-bags, or hormones and gender reassignment. Enjoy life!! I'll leave the final words to Ginger – who now really IS Ginger!

 

Dear Reader, Thank you for coming this far on our journey. I'm delighted that Kerstin has written the account, or the autobiography, of our three years' exciting journey. I could not have imagined where this would lead when the first step was take. In fact, I have to read Chapter 1 again to remind myself.

Kerstin hoped that other wives would see how such a wonderful existence can be created if they just have the courage to make the first suggestion, if they feel their husbands might be inclined the way I am.

Please, I implore you, TRY IT! YOU'LL LOVE IT!

LOL

Ginger GIMGER! xxx

 

THE END!

  

  

  

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