8 comments/ 30905 views/ 9 favorites The Thomas Thompson Affair By: BethanyJ ********** A series of stories with transgender themes which I hope will be of interest to those who like women, or would like to be a woman. Which includes me! ********** 1.... The Present... "Now. I want it now;" "Shut up Geoff;" "NOW!!" My voice was getting louder and my pose was becoming sillier. My pants were at that moment on my head. "Shut up Geoff, you look totally stupid" called out Louise, trying to stop laughing at the ridiculous sight in front of her. "Go and get shaved, and dressed, You'll get it later. I need my coffee first." So I shaved, and dressed, and realised I needed to speed up just a little or I could be late for work, birthday or no birthday. In the kitchen, Louise was sat at the table glancing at the paper and drinking her coffee. I grabbed mine. "Well?" "No I won't. I want it NOW" I shouted, I hopped up and down, I pulled funny faces, I repeated my desire in several silly voices. The sort of behaviour you wouldn't attempt with someone you wanted to impress, a new girlfriend, a newly-married wife and so on. But the sort of behaviour which is perfectly OK with someone who knows you well - as well as a wife of more than twenty years standing does, for example. I didn't need to ask the question. She stood up and glanced out of the window to make sure no-one was passing, then turned to me, pulled the string on her night-dress and pulled out her ample breasts. "Is this what you want? You'll have to be quick, it's the right one this morning I think." Private joke. I started to laugh, then realised she was distracting me. "No you don't, I want my birthday present. Now!" "OK darling. I've got you a date." "Date?" "Yes, a date" "Date? What sort of date?" "Well, how many sorts are there?" I wasn't getting anywhere with this, Louise was being deliberately obtuse. I knew then, this was going to be a bit special as birthday presents go. If I ever got it, that is. "Well, there's dark sticky fruit dates, there's October 25th type dates, I am sure there are more. So what type is it?" "It's a date. For tonight. You're going out." "Oh, a going-out type of date. Why didn't you say?" Then I realised. OK, that sort of date, but this didn't make sense. Going out? I looked at Louise, puzzled. She looked straight at me. I could tell something dramatic was about to escape from her mouth, that whatever it was she knew it was going to surprise me. "Geoff. How long have you been a cross-dresser?" That didn't follow. I didn't see it, but I answered anyway. "About four years." "Right. And what have you done with it?" "Sorry?" "What have you done with it? You dress up, you look lovely, roughly once a week these days. We sit in the garden and have tea together, you sometimes cook or iron." "And we make love" I butted in, smiling. "Yes, we make great love, it's stupendous. I do so LOVE being screwed by you, in a bra and panties and all. But I keep telling you, you need to do more. To get out and about." Suddenly I realised where this was going. Louise had several times recently, when I had been in 'femme mode', suggested we go for a drive, or go shopping or something. I had said no, every time. "Well, Geoff, you've got a date. That's your birthday present. I rang up an escort agency, they are sending a man round tonight. Eight-thirty. And 'Gemma' is going out." I sat down. "A man?" I muttered. "Don't worry, it's all taken care of. I asked the agency rep on the line. The guy who's coming, Peter, knows. I told them my husband is a cross-dresser and I want someone to take him out. Just out to a pub for a drink or two, then bring him, or rather her, home. That's all." "All? ALL? You mean I am due to go out tonight - with a man. Look, Louise, we sorted this. I may tart myself up, but I am strictly a one-person guy, indeed a one-woman guy, and that's you. Totally hetero and very happily married." Louise got up, came round behind me and kissed me, nuzzling my neck. "I know that, silly, this is a one-off. I thought you would like the idea. Look, think about it, if you want to cancel then ring me later today. But if you like the idea try to get home a little early, we have to get 'Gemma' ready. Please, think about it. Now, come on, you're going to be late if you don't scoot." And scoot I did, staying mainly just under the speed limit I did get to work on time. But I was distracted, all morning, thinking about it. What a hoot! And Louise, what had made her come up with this. But just one outing, to a pub, could I do it? Of course I could. At lunchtime I rang Louise. "Hi, Geoff, you want to cancel? I can ring the agency now if you want." "Louise, no. Look, I'm sorry if I didn't seem grateful this morning. It really is a great thought. And yes, I'm going through with it. Love you." I was distracted all afternoon too but managed to get my desk cleared early and left exactly on time. I drove home quickly, and carefully, to find Louise beginning to prepare for the evening already. "OK Geoff, let's eat first. I know it's early but I want to have a good run at getting you dressed and made up." Within twenty minutes we had dined and cleared away, and I was heading up to the 'spare room' where all my femme clothing is. Louise had beaten me to it - the outfit she had chosen for me was laid out on the spare bed. She followed me in. "OK Geoff, get undressed and shower while I finish sorting here. Use my shower oil, it smells nice, we do want you to look AND smell good on your first date, don't we?" She was winding me up, OK, but I was by then delighted to go along with the whole thing, positively looking forward to it. Until about 8:25, that is. By then I was getting definite cold feet. Literally too, I was sat in the kitchen, all dressed up and nowhere to go - yet. And my feet were a little cold. My heels were fine, black, chunky heels, fairly fashionable, about 3" heels and rather chunky. But I was wearing thinner stockings than I was used to, about 15 denier and black. Louise had always said I have good-looking legs in stockings, and had suggested a couple of weeks earlier that I shave my legs and arms carefully so that I could expose them more when dressed. I always wore black stockings or tights, they had helped cover my slight leg hair. Apart from actual slightly cold feet I was feeling rather apprehensive. "Don't worry, - Gemma. You look great". Gemma, that is my 'femme' name, from 'Geoffrey' really, Louise has been very good in nearly always calling me that when I am dressed. In truth, I had felt pretty good, we had done as good a job as ever on my overall 'look' that evening. Short-ish skirt, a few inches above the knee, a dark denim, a pale blue blouse over my black bra and undies, a mid-blue tailored jacket, nice make-up and accessories, I was very impressed with the general appearance of the woman I was pretending to be. Louise had taught me to moderate my voice, take it up a tone, I could speak in a very convincing though slightly husky, and maybe female, register. Everything had gone OK for an evening in doing our usual 'role-play'. But I wasn't staying in, I was going out. It really was a great idea for a birthday present, I just had to summon up my nerve to do it. Louise had insisted that I didn't have a drink to boost my courage, she said that Peter would be buying me drinks later. Peter. My date! I had asked about the arrangements with the escort agency, she really had been clear about the special circumstances on the phone. Peter was one of their experienced escorts, apparently he had not actually been out with a cross-dresser before but he was quite happy with the idea. He is gay himself, and had some experience of being with others who had the same hobby, even one who had gone the whole way and changed his, or rather her, gender. The doorbell rang. I shivered slightly, not from the actual cold, just nerves. "OK Gemma, you stay in the kitchen for a couple of minutes, I'll make sure this guy knows properly what is expected of him. Don't worry.' Easier said than done. I sat there quietly, listening to the conversation, trying to peer through the crack in the door. Louise went through the usual pleasantries, then got to the point. "Peter, you do realise don't you, this is a different sort of escort. They did tell you at the agency." "Patrick. My name's Patrick, not Peter. I'm sorry, Mrs. Thomas, I only have the ordinary details from the agency here". I heard the rustle of a sheet of paper. "Escort Mrs. Thomas to a golf club dinner. That's all I know." There was a short pause. "Thompson, Patrick, I'm Mrs. Thompson. And I don't know anything about a golf club dinner." "Shit!" I heard Patrick say. There was another pause. "Er, excuse me asking, Mrs. Thompson, I do apologise if I have got something wrong myself - you said 'different sort'. You aren't by any chance expecting a gay man for an escort?" "Yes, I am. I had made very specific special arrangements." "Look, Mrs. Thompson, I am really sorry about this, there has been a mistake at the agency. I have a colleague called Peter, I think we have been given each other's assignments. May I make a call?" I heard the beeping of a mobile phone as buttons were pressed, then heard half a conversation. "Hi Peter. Patrick here............... Yes I know, I've just found out ....... Gloucester...... about an hour, that's not on is it? ...... OK, you go ahead, I'll try to sort things this end.... OK. Bye." Peter spoke again to Louise. "Sorry, there has been a mix-up. Peter is going to go ahead with his escort, we haven't time to swap over. I really am very sorry, I can't apologise enough, someone back at the agency has messed things up somewhere. Obviously, you may be offered a free replacement 'date'. Might that be acceptable?" "Yes, but I did really want it to be tonight. Hang on a moment." Louise came into the kitchen and spoke quietly. "Did you hear that? Great shame, you really do look great tonight my darling." Then she paused again and went back into the lounge, I heard some muttering, then she reappeared a few moments later with Patrick. He looked at me. I was not expecting that at all, I just assumed that the whole thing was off. He turned to Louise. "I am amazed, Mrs. Thompson. Yes. Definitely. I was expecting some sort of drag artiste but ... well." "Right then - er Gemma. This is Patrick, he's taking you out for a drink or two. You had better get your handbag." I was by now totally unsure about the whole thing and decided I should have a say in this. "Hang on, I'm not sure about this." And what amazed me, Louise noticed too, was my voice as I spoke. It was my 'Gemma' voice, as if I was reluctant to speak normally when dressed like that. Louise had always encouraged me to speak in that more gentle way when I was dressed and doing the cleaning, or having tea, or whatever. It seemed that it had become almost automatic. "Please, Mr. Thompson. I assure you. I am totally happy about this, and not just because I need the money. Actually that is a large part of the reason. But you do look great, you even sound convincing. If I didn't know what I do know, maybe I would even, in a different situation, try to chat you up anyway. You really do look great. Honestly." "There, Gemma, I have been telling you that for ages. Now, come on, this is going to work. Go get your handbag, it's on the bed upstairs I think. I'll just finish briefing Patrick." I really was in two minds at that stage. Patrick seemed a totally presentable young man, though over-dressed for a pub visit. Apart from him not being gay, and I had not been at all sure about that when Louise had told me what she had tried to arrange, well, there really was no reason not to go ahead. I came down and went into the lounge, Patrick and Louise were still chatting, quietly. I must have still looked doubtful. He came towards me and took my hand. "OK Gemma, love. Come on, we'd better be off." I looked at Louise, we both raised our eyebrows. Patrick's tone of voice had been exactly right, a man encouraging his girlfriend to get a move on. "Patrick" interrupted Louise "You said you were a student. What are you studying?" "I'm doing a Business course. Why?" "You should be doing acting, you are very good - indeed." She turned to me. "Now Gemma, you take care, have a good evening. There shouldn't be any problems outside, the Sandersons are away and Mrs. Davis can't see over the road from her kitchen, not in this light anyway. And don't be too late." I looked at her - she was grinning. I tried to. 2..... The date... Outside, Patrick kept hold of my hand. We walked together along the drive to his car, a rather swish affair. "It's not mine, er - Gemma, it comes with the escort job. This was supposed to be for the golf club trip, to impress the friends of my escort." He opened the door for me. I had been somewhat flustered up to then but remembered - bum first, swing my legs in, not to show my stocking tops. Patrick went round to his door, got in, and drove off. "Mrs. Thompson has given me clear instructions. As far as I am concerned, you are Gemma - all evening. OK?" "Yes, Patrick, that's fine. I suppose this must seem weird to you." "Oh no, look, Gemma, in this job I have had really weird escorts to do, this is OK. And you really do look very attractive this evening, Gemma. Mrs. Thompson suggested we should go to the 'Red Dragon'. Is that OK with you?" I knew where the pub was, though I had never actually been in. I agreed it sounded fine. It was about four miles from home, I tried very hard to relax as Patrick drove. There are many moments in a life you will always remember. Proposing to a partner, the birth of an offspring, a specially good exam result, when your favourite football team does phenomenally well. And for any guy who has actually done it, going out, walking into a pub dressed in a tight top and skirt, tights and high-heels, that has to count as one of those special moments. Despite all that has happened since, that moment lives on in my memory. It would be wrong - very wrong - to say that all the conversation stopped, everyone looked at me, all the men's eyes lusting after my body and so on. That didn't happen, nothing like. So what did happen? Nothing. Well, nothing out of the ordinary that is. Patrick held my hand, or maybe it was the other way round, I was too nervous to let go. As we stood at the bar waiting Patrick turned to me and muttered quietly. "I never asked - I should know of course, what would you like to drink, Gemma?" "G and T " I replied quickly. A young barman spotted us waiting and came over, Patrick ordered the drinks. As he was getting out his wallet I realised I should be paying, really he was on a job here. He saw my concern and muttered that he had a float from the agency, and we would sort it out later. As we made our way over to a table near the window I had to release Patrick's grip- I had my drink in one hand and my handbag in the other. We sat side-by-side facing inwards, I sipped my drink, still a little nervous. Almost automatically - I had posed that way many times at home - I crossed my legs and enjoyed the feeling of nylon sliding over nylon, as my skirt slid up a little to reveal my knees and a short length of thigh. I smiled internally. "I told you, Gemma. No problem at all, you look really good tonight". Patrick squeezed my hand and looked at me. "Come on now, cheer up, don't be so nervous. This is our first date after all. Any girl should be happy to be out with a hunk like me." I had to laugh a little. OK he was tall and not too badly built but in no way could Patrick be described as a hunk. Then I realised he had said it to break the ice and smiled again as I looked at him. "That's better, you look even lovelier when you smile." He really was good, obviously practised at this sort of thing, well, at the 'real' version of it. I sipped my drink and relaxed into the role. And time flew, they always say it does when you are enjoying yourself. We talked together, closely but not intimately, quietly, mainly about football. Louise had said that was a sure-fire common interest we may have, steering clear of anything contentious or any topics which could cause problems if overheard. It was a few minutes before closing time when one rather loutish customer came into the bar and announced loudly to a friend that he had just come from 'the match', and that Villa had beaten City. There was a huge cheer all round the bar - Patrick and I turned to face each other. Everyone else was hugging each other - so we did too. As we parted I looked him straight in the eyes and wondered just for a second if that hug had been a little more than platonic. I didn't have time to do anything about it, because... "Hi there Gemma, you two seem to be getting on well, then." I knew the voice, obviously. I didn't need to look up but I did, we both did. Louise squeezed into a chair facing us and leant over, speaking quietly. "I'm sorry to interrupt your date, I just had to see how you were getting on." "We are doing famously, Louise" replied Patrick "Gemma is doing so well. Can I get you a drink?" Louise leant over again, conspiratorially, as Patrick went in search of a vodka and tonic for her. "Seriously Gemma, how are you doing. Any problems?" "None at all so far, this is a real buzz, a great birthday present." Patrick returned with Louise's drink, we chatted for just a minute or two, then trouble did intervene - oddly, without my wife being there it just wouldn't have happened. We all heard it - a loud voice from the other side of the bar. "Louise! Hi there!" She looked across automatically, then looked at Patrick and I. "Bother, it's Kelly, from work" But Patrick had been ahead of us, he stood up between me and the approaching Kelly. "Gemma, darling, come on, we should go. I want to show you something I saw in the 'Gap' window. Let's go have a look." So, shielded by Patrick's body, I grabbed my handbag and shuffled out. I heard behind us 'sorry Louise, I hope I didn't interrupt anything ...'. But we were away, heading out of the pub. Patrick's hand round my waist to encourage me along. "Well done Patrick" I said as we turned the corner outside the door. "It seemed the best thing to do" he said. "Come on now, let's go have a look in that window anyway" And so we did, Patrick hugging me round the waist, just like any other couple window-shopping, walking and laughing together when Patrick started going on about Kelly and her piercing voice. After that he drove us home, and brought me to the front door. Louise was just putting our car in the garage and met us on the doorstep. "Young man" she said, looking at Patrick. "On Monday I am going to ring your boss and give you a seriously good report. You have done brilliantly this evening, especially getting Gemma away from Kelly. But all the other things too." She moved towards him and kissed his cheek. "Right, Gemma, let's go in. I'll let Patrick off the last part of the contract." When we both looked puzzled she continued. "When I rang and arranged for tonight, I wanted a pub outing, and a walk in town - and a goodnight kiss for Gemma. But we'll let you off that last part." "Why?" asked Patrick. And then, without waiting for a reply, he grabbed me, not too firmly by the arms. And pressed his lips to mine, Just briefly, just for maybe two seconds. But it was my first kiss! Then he did say goodbye. I was concerned we were there, rather exposed outside our house albeit in the dark. "Right Gemma, tell me all about your evening" Louise asked as we closed the front door and retreated to safety. The Thomas Thompson Affair "Not yet" I replied, grabbing Louise in exactly the same way and kissing her. Except in our case I didn't stop at a kiss! The next day was a Saturday. We were both up late, we did the usual weekend things. But we spent some time during the day talking about how I had felt being seen out as a woman. It was Monday before anything else disturbed our normal suburban lifestyle. I had been in the garden all evening, getting very dirty but I was determined to get that corner of the garden cleared up. I staggered into the house, desperate for some refreshment. Louise was there - talking to Patrick! 3... The surprise... "Geoff, look who's here. I was as surprised as you are when I opened the door." Patrick was looking at me strangely - then I realised, he had only seen 'Gemma' before. He turned towards Louise. "I want to say thanks to you both, it was an unusual escort but very enjoyable. And thanks for ringing up my boss this morning. I got called in and congratulated, and I got a bonus for getting the agency out of a hole." We both smiled at each other, I shook Patrick's hand, apologising for the fact that I was rather dirty. "You deserve it, you did a good job." But he wasn't concentrating. I got the impression there was something else on his mind and asked him about it. "It was just a thought but .... Look, sorry, I shouldn't have come, it's not a good idea. I had better be off." Louise butted in. "Patrick, something's wrong, obviously. Please, tell us about it." Patrick sat down looking rather sheepish. "Well, in the pub on Friday. I didn't realise but someone recognised me. My Uncle George, he had called in for a swift half on his way home from work. He saw me - he saw us." He meant Gemma obviously but not knowing how to put it. "The thing is, he's having a big party on Saturday. It's his 35th wedding anniversary, a big family do. And because my Mum and Dad are in the States at the moment I have to be there, representing them if you see what I mean." He looked across at me again. "Well he asked me to make sure I brought 'my girlfriend' to the party" At which Louise squeaked, trying to hold in a much larger laugh. "Actually he said bring that 'gorgeous bit of stuff' he saw me with - sorry, Uncle George is a bit of a chauvinist." This time Louise did more than squeak. "Oh, Geoff, 'gorgeous' - I told you that you look attractive". "Well, the girl I might have taken, she's in Scotland for the week. And since uncle George saw us together, I thought - this may sound weird. But. With the payment for Saturday and the bonus - well - I just wondered, I know it sounds silly, if I could do what you did. Hire an escort, hire Gemma. For the party I mean, just for that." When he had finished speaking Louise and I just stood there, looking rather blankly at each other, not knowing how to react. Patrick looked at us both, then stood up. "I'm sorry, it was a silly idea, Please forgive me, I had better be off now." At which, rather surprisingly, both Louise and I came up with, in stereo, exactly the same four-word response. "No, Patrick, sit down" Louise looked across at me again. "You'd love to do it, wouldn't you, darling?" I hesitated. "Patrick, would you excuse us for a moment? How about a bit of a walk down the garden? Have a look at the new 'summerhouse' I've built, down at the bottom left. It's not very grandiose but I am very pleased with it. Just for a few minutes." When Patrick left us I turned to Louise. "My darling, you KNOW I'm champing at the bit to do this. It's almost every cross-dresser's dream, going to a party dressed up, party frock and all that. But really, could I get away with it? It's not just a question of being in a pub, talking quietly and so on. It's so much more than that." Louise looked pensive for a moment, then spoke. "OK Geoff, it is a different type of outing. But you have to admit it would be fun. And if I think, and Patrick thinks, you can get away with it - you have to trust us. Take our word for it. You can do this. OK?" That decided it really, we called Patrick in and he agreed that he was sure I could get away with it. He kept saying I was doing him a real favour. But, of course, we told him to put his money away. This was for fun, not for profit. Louise went with Patrick back to his car, they talked for a few minutes before he drove off while I tried to get my head round what I had just agreed to do. When she came back, Louise had some news which was supposed to make things easier. The two of them had decided I could do with some more practice, so I had another 'date' arranged, for the Thursday night. "So the two of you can get really well acquainted, you know, get your story sorted, get used to being in each other's company, you know, Geoff." Did I know? Know what? About my boyfriend? Hell, I'd never had one before! 4... The Practice ... I had the impression there was something else afoot but I couldn't work out what. I did find out on the Thursday evening, getting ready about an hour before Patrick was due to arrive. I had showered, shaved, got into my bra and panties when Louise looked at me and grinned. "Right now - Gemma, let's see what we can do about your shape." "Shape?" I asked, looking in the mirror and not seeing anything wrong with my shape. "Yes, Gemma. Now, try this on. In fact don't just try it, put it on." 'It' was a corset. Well, a waist-squeezer really, fitting under my bra and intended to give me a better shape. I got into it and was just going to comment that it didn't seem to make much difference, when Louise called out 'Hold on Gemma'. She pushed me in the back with one hand and pulled on the tapes at the back of the 'corset' with the other. I had breathed in, but any breath left in my body was expelled forcibly as the garment clamped me round the waist like a vice. Any Gemma-like thoughts disappeared from my mind - I swore, loudly, and it was definitely Geoff, not Gemma, speaking. "Good grief, Louise, what on earth are you up to, I can hardly breathe!!" "Well, Gemma, or Geoff, or whoever, not many of us wear them nowadays but in Victorian times every young girl had to wear a corset like that to give her a perfect figure. I know it feels tight but you will soon get used to it." Tight, it was like a vice clamping round my waist. I stood up and moved around a little, OK it did get a little easier but it was still difficult. "Louise, I'm not at all sure I am going to be able to wear this, not and move as well." "Nonsense my darling, you really will be more comfortable in a few minutes. And I have to say I can see the effect. And you will agree that it is worth it. Now, let's finish sorting your tits." With which she walked over to me carrying two pink bulbous half-moons. "You never knew it, Geoff, but when I was in high school, before we met, I was rather undeveloped in the chest region. So I cheated, I have had these inserts in my lingerie drawer ever since. I never really thought they would come in useful again. Now, stand up straight, let me slide these in." I really did have difficulty believing it, for all the time I had known her Louise had been more than amply built in that particular area. Nevertheless she slid the 'fillers' into my bra and stood back. "Right now, nearly done. I've got you a pair of stockings for tonight, again most women wear tights these days but you want to feel somewhat more feminine, I think they will be a good idea. I sat on the bed and watched as Louise slid my foot into each, then slid them gently up my legs and attached the garters. I could have done that myself, but I truly couldn't bend over yet! "OK, let's get you finished." Louise slid a tight black sweater over my head, carefully avoiding my make-up and big gold earrings I had already clipped on. She went behind me and slid my wig into place, clipping it behind my ears and giving it a couple of brushes through. "Now - this!" I looked. It was a mini-skirt, and what a mini. The classic sexy black leather mini-skirt. And it definitely looked too small. "Gemma, you are really Gemma now, this is a rather tight size 12, really a bit over size 10, and with that waist-girdle on it should fit. Step into it, I'll pull it up and see if I can do the zip at the back. I did, and she did - just. It really was tight. "Just what sort of an image am I trying to get across tonight, wearing a skirt like this?" I asked, knowing what I must look like even though I hadn't had a chance to look in the long mirror yet. "You know very well, you are a woman trying to impress her man with your sexuality, and these will confirm that." I looked, and gulped. Louise was holding a pair of shoes the like of which I had always dreamed. Black, shiny, patent, high-heel stilettos. They must have been at least a 5" heel. "With these, my love, everyone will know you are after Patrick!" "But what will Patrick think?" "Well, I want to know that. This outfit will do very well for the job tonight. I have a pretty good idea what you will be wearing to the party on Saturday, this will tell me whether you can get away with it." Ten minutes later I was in the hall, waiting for my 'boyfriend' to come to pick me up. Louise had dashed off to her friend Kelly's. She was baby-sitting for her, that's what Kelly had been after in the pub the previous evening. So she couldn't turn up at the pub to support me, I was on my own - with a healthily-sexed twenty-two year old, I estimated, out for the evening, and looking like ... I looked in the hall mirror. Very good make-up, I will give Louise that, she had done an intricate job on me, rather more 'dressy' than the previous evening. Tight black polo-necked sweater, over what I am delighted to say were ample boobs, the waist-squeezer and Louise's inserts really did a good job there. An extremely short and indeed very tight leather mini, black stockings and towering heels. She had done my nails too, stuck on quite long deep red false ones, the same colour as my lipstick. The doorbell rang. I picked up my bag and slipped on the jacket Louise had loaned me, and opened the door, standing behind it in case anyone was looking from across the road. I closed it behind Patrick, who was indeed well turned out - deep blue shirt, tight trousers and a very decent pair of very trendy boots. He looked at me. "Wow. Gemma, you look fantastic, I mean it. Any guy would be delighted to be going out with a girl looking as good as you." I decided there and then, no nerves. I was doing this as much for Patrick as for me. He was a good actor but so am I - or should that be 'actress'. Anyway, I smiled and leaned to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you my darling. A girl always likes her efforts to be appreciated". We walked out of the house confidently, hand in hand, both eager to enjoy the evening. As soon as we walked into the pub, NOT the same one, we didn't want to accidentally bump into any more of Louise's friends or Patrick's relatives, I realised this was going to be a more difficult evening. For a start I attracted a lot more attention. The slightly bulging figure and tight leather skirt, as I had imagined, drew glances and stares from lots of people, mainly men. I told Patrick he had better get a couple of G and T's down me first - I needed the Dutch courage to be able to take it. And take it I did, even to the extent of striking up a conversation with a couple who were sat next to us in the bar, amazingly arguing about football "Excuse me, I'm sorry for interrupting, but your girlfriend is right, Villa beat United twice last seasons." And then we got chatting, about football, about music, about shopping, the conversation flowed here and there. Patrick got on well with the guy, Vincent, and I liked Caroline. I really was trying to put myself in a feminine state of mind, to like her for who she was and not just because she was wearing a rather exposed top and I could see her cleavage very well from where I was sitting. But we seemed to be getting on so well as two girls chatting. Suddenly she stood up, without warning, and grabbed her bag. It's an indication that I was adopting a feminine mind-set that, the instant she did that, I followed suit. I knew where she was going. She was heading for the Ladies and I was expected to follow suit. I was so pleased with myself. In there, we managed to find two empty stalls straight away. I did realise this could be difficult so I carefully sat down, reached in to pull my panties to one side, and did what I needed to do, trying hard to control my rather sexual thoughts occasioned by my very first visit ever to a Ladies! Fortunately I had only had two gins, not two pints, I managed to do what I needed to do quickly and efficiently and very carefully tuck myself away again. As I opened the cubicle door another girl (another girl?!) rushed in past me. Caroline and I did some very simple touching up of our make-up in the large mirror in there. Then she turned towards me. "Gemma, can I ask you something?" 'Hell' I thought, has she spotted something? Is this about to suddenly cause a load of trouble for me, for Patrick, maybe for Louise? "Gemma, I do so love that skirt. The whole thing, skirt and stockings - you are wearing stockings, aren't you? - and stilettos is very sexy indeed. I can't help noticing, Vincent keeps looking across, I am sure he has seen your stocking tops. It's as if you are flirting with every man in the pub before Patrick's very eyes. It's turning him on, and it's giving Vincent a real thrill too. Obviously that's why you dress so sexily, isn't it?" I was being complimented on my dress sense, by a woman. I glowed inside. But I was aware that Caroline was making a serious comment. Yes, indeed, I was delighted that so many people obviously thought me sexy. But I also wanted Patrick to know that. "I was wondering if Vincent would like me to dress like that? You know, to show off, to look good for his mates." I tried to think what I would say if I was Vincent. How would I feel if Louise looked like this when I was out with her? But I couldn't tell Caroline that, well certainly, not in those words. Hell, I would feel great. I came up with a compromise. "Well, if I were you, Caroline, I'd try something in private first. Maybe get tarted in at home or somewhere, short skirt and tight top and so on, and maybe a bit heavy with the make-up. See what Vincent thinks. Then ask if he wants you to wear the same thing when you go out. Yes?" "Great idea, Gemma, thanks." And she kissed me, a real girly thank-you kiss on the cheek. The evening had to be cut a bit short then, as Caroline and I got back to the boys I realised that quite a crowd had joined them, friends of Vincent and Caroline. Patrick looked up at me with just the trace of a grimace on his face, as if to say 'I'm not too sure about this, too many people, we really should go while the going is good.' He was right. He held out a hand and I took it, we made our excuses. As we passed some of the guys who had just arrived I could see the looks on their faces. Patrick slid a hand round my waist and leaned in towards my ear. "It's OK, Gemma, you did very well indeed. But a couple of those guys looked a bit rough, I'm not sure how we would have handled them. And did you see the looks as we left, that guy in the blue shirt was just staring at your legs! He knows why I wanted you 'home' early." Did I feel embarrassed? Slightly maybe, but not as much as I would have thought. On the way home I told Patrick about the chat in the Ladies. He was really pleased I had got on so well, and indeed totally undetected in female company, commenting that it was good practice before Saturday night. A chill went up my spine at the mention of it, I had almost forgotten about that. As we pulled in at home, both feeling very self-satisfied, Patrick looked across. "Gemma, I think I ought to kiss you again. And I do need to say thank you for tonight anyway" He leaned over towards my side of the car and, for the second time, our lips met. It lasted a little longer this time. As we parted I knew what I wanted to ask but had to summon up the courage to ask it. 5... The coffee ... "Patrick, would you like to come in for a coffee?" We both knew what, in other circumstances, that question meant. And, after the kiss, we both had a suspicion that something more than a simple coffee might be involved. Equally I am certain that neither of us knew exactly what. Then as I got out of the car, my skirt slid up exposing quite a lot of nylon-clad leg, Patrick opened the door and stood there staring at me. As I stood up I smoothed out my skirt, then grabbed my bag. We held hands as we went in. I had realised that Louise was not back from her baby-sitting yet. So the situation was ripe for problems. Here I was, most definitely more sexily tarted up than I had ever been before, alone in the house with a virile young man. He sat in the lounge and looked through our CDs while I made coffee, then I went in to find him putting on a 'Love Songs' compilation. I didn't comment. We sipped our coffee and carried on discussing our outing. We had the story sorted, having discovered a mutual interest in tennis, that I had been on a visiting team when Patrick had been playing. We had got together in the bar afterwards, and gone on from there. We fitted a fair amount of the truth into our story, in fact quite a few years earlier I had been in a team visiting his college though he was probably in infants school at the time. Anyway the tale did have the ring of truth about it. Patrick carried the cups into the kitchen and I stretched out a little on the sofa. As he returned Patrick stared at me. "Christ Gemma, you really do look inviting sat there like that." Then he paused for a moment, then turned and dimmed the lights slightly. "It seems to me that we should maybe have a bit more practice at being friendly together, while we have the chance." With which words he crossed to the sofa, perched beside me, and put a hand on my nylon-clad leg, quite some way above my knee. He started moving his hand up and down slowly and gently. Then he moved towards me, and kissed me again. The kiss was nice, I can't deny that, but it was the extra attention I was getting which quite suddenly began to excite me. His hand slid up inside my skirt and, very suddenly this time, I reacted. My lips opened, my tongue moved to enter his mouth and begin to tease. I really was beginning to enjoy this. On my own sofa, with my own 'boyfriend' and beginning to get very intimate indeed. I wanted more, my breathing was becoming heavier, I could feel my 'breasts rising and falling against his chest. I slid a hand in-between the buttons of his shirt and felt his slightly hairy chest, that only served to heighten my desire. Patrick was obviously enjoying this too. He was gripping my bum, my bare bum, under my skirt. I pulled away slightly to try to read what he was after in his eyes, but there wasn't time. I felt one hand slide inside my top, and begin to fondle my 'boobs' through the cup of my bra. The other slid up higher and gripped the waistband of my panties, began to pull them down. I should have stopped him but - I didn't want to, this was gorgeous. We were kissing even more urgently, really getting into it. "Well, you two seem to be getting on famously now!" We both started and turned, Louise was standing in the doorway. We had been so engrossed in what we were doing that neither of us had noticed any sound in the hall. "Er - Louise". It was Patrick who spoke first, obviously extremely embarrassed, so was I! "We were just practising...." "Oh yes, I can see that. Actually that's a good idea, you two go on." The Thomas Thompson Affair She smiled and turned to go into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with a glass in her hand. "Please, don't let me stop you. You'll need to be convincing on Saturday night without me there for backup. But I really would like to know, if you can drag yourselves apart for a few minutes, how you got on this evening." Patrick and I both realised that the moment had gone. He shifted to re-arrange his shirt, I stood up and rather indelicately pulled my knickers back into place and adjusted my bra. We sat side by side rather sheepishly for a few minutes while we told her about our second 'date'. "It seems you are getting on well with my 'sister', Patrick, I really do think she can pull this off at your party. I can promise you, with the dress she is going to wear, you will both get a lot of attention." I was just a little worried by Louise's tone. She obviously had something in mind for me to wear but hadn't let on yet. I was going to ask her about it when we were interrupted - by Patrick's mobile phone, ringing in his jacket pocket. He muttered a 'sorry' and answered it. He was just answering 'yes' and 'yes' and 'no' to someone on the other end, Louise pulled me into the kitchen and a very wide smile spread across her face. "Now, Gemma, I want to know. How do you feel getting into heavy petting with a man on our sofa? Just what is it like?" I tried to start telling her, that it was different, it was flattering and, hell, I was enjoying it. But I hardly got started when Patrick came to the door, phone in hand, with what I saw as a rather impish grin on his face. The phone was obviously still on - he looked at it and pulled a face, basically saying 'be careful what you say'. "It's my Uncle George, Gemma. I told him your sister is here, he says would she like to come to the party too. He says the more the merrier, he's like that is Uncle George. What about it? Gemma? Louise?" I looked across at Louise, she hardly had to think, just smiled. Patrick knew the answer, he was getting to understand our signals by now, whatever gender we happened to be at the time. "Hello. Uncle. Yes, I'll be bringing two lovely ladies to the party. OK. Love to Auntie, see you Saturday." Louise was the first to speak after Patrick had pressed the 'off' button. "It's just to be there as a backup in case of problems. I won't get in the way. Honest." I looked at Patrick. Did we believe her? The next day was as close to ordinary as any day had been in the recent past. Work as usual, yet again with me finding it rather difficult to concentrate, always thinking of what had recently happened and, more and more, what was going to come up in the next day or two. It was different - Louise's mother made it quite different. She rang me at work, very unusual, to tell me she was driving south to visit an old school friend on Saturday, and could she stay over? To split the journey and visit her daughter and her 'favourite son' on the way. I just had to say yes, then had to try three times to find Louise in at home, to let her know and to warn her about putting away those things which should not be found lying around. Like my stilettos for example, which I knew I had left by my side of the bed. But I did get through in the end. Arriving home I found my wife frantically hoovering. "Well we've been so busy, and I have relied on 'Gemma' to do this recently. Anyway, I've nearly done." So what? I actually enjoy hoovering in bra and panties and high-heels, I know I'm weird. I helped with the clearing up, just in time. Louise had a meal on the stove, we both kissed Mum fondly on the cheek as she arrived, ravenous as usual. We had our meal, chatted, actually had a very pleasant evening which is not always the case when Louise's Mum visits. "Well, dears" she asked as we started to move towards bed "Anything special planned for this weekend." I'm glad Louise butted in to say 'not really', if I hadn't rather rudely turned my back on Mother she would have seen my very wide grin. The one fly in the ointment came early the next morning. The 'old friend' Mum was due to visit had been called in to work all day, not just for the morning. We both looked at each other, scared that Mother would abandon the trip and stay with us all weekend. Fortunately, though there was a problem, it was only a major one, not a disastrous one. Mother decided to stay longer that morning and, since Louise had indeed said we had nothing planned, volunteered her daughter to accompany her on a shopping trip into town. "I rarely get the chance, you know, living in the country as we do. It will be nice to see what the big stores have to offer." So she and Louise drove off about 10 o'clock, and I was left kicking my heels. Not literally, not my high heels, I mean. We had planned taking nearly the whole day to prepare, and would now have to hurry somewhat, not starting until about 4 after Mum had gone. I thought for a bit how I could usefully help in the preparation but Louise still hadn't told me what we were going to wear. I had an idea she would want to wear her gorgeous red dress, classic party stuff, she had looked totally sensational at the staff party last Christmas in it. My boss had drooled all over her, I felt sure I would get a promotion after that but no. But what I was to wear I had no idea, and there was nothing obviously 'got ready' in the wardrobe. In fact things were quite stuffed in there. I guess Louise had prepared something but had to shove everything away when she heard Mother was coming to stay. I did get some preparation done - but only two things. First I had a hot shower and used the cream Louise had got to remove my body hair. The first time I had tried to do that totally, it felt strange getting dressed afterwards, pants just did not feel right sliding up totally bare legs. And second, since they would be hidden, I did something I had always wanted to do -- I gave myself a slight and doubtless amateurish pedicure, and then painted my toe-nails in my favourite cherry-red colour, which I had told Louise I wanted to wear on my finger-nails and on my lips. She had agreed, so I did them, again feeling something was wrong as I slipped my socks on to cover them. The ladies returned just after three o'clock, with a total surprise. They had used their time well - both been to the hairdressers. "Louise was adamant" said Mother. "Said she wanted just for once to have her hair done when it wasn't a wedding or a special occasion or something." She certainly had 'her hair done' - she was blonde!! Totally blonde, the typical gorgeous straw-yellow blonde any guy lusts after! I knew I was going to have problems that night. Well, I was going to have problems anyway, but Louise, a blonde -- was she going to wear that red dress? Wow! She wasn't really helping, I really did not know how I was going to keep my 'tackle' down there in check. Anyway, just before four o'clock we waved Mother goodbye and wished her a good journey. "Right" said Louise. "It's time for Gemma to come out to play! Follow me, Geoff, you are about to be replaced. Bedroom first." I commented briefly and very favourably about her hair, and expressed my own concern about my potential difficulties. "Well, you'll just have to BE Gemma, I'm sure you can by now get yourself into the female mind-set." And that was it, I was going to have to sort it myself. So I told her about the hair-removal and the nails, she smiled and said 'well done' but we both knew time was not on our side. While Louise showered I got out my undies, at least I had known where they were. She had said black - great. We dressed together, side by side, really just like sisters preparing for a double date or something. I was surprised several times when Louise stopped me, saying 'no, not that, you're wearing this tonight', or something like that. When I reached for the stockings I had worn a couple of days earlier she produced a brand new pack of totally gorgeous black seamed stockings, 7 denier, very sheer. Sliding them up my legs and clipping the tops to the garter straps on my waist-cincher was almost an orgasmic experience in itself. When I started to do my mascara she again said no, and handed me a tube of really lovely 'Thicken-and-curl' mascara which really did just that, giving me lovely looking lashes. By just after 7 o'clock we were both nearly ready. I had just finished putting on my lipstick, the same colour as I had used before but this time a 'Kissable' brand, joking that I might well be needing that tonight! We stood together, both in our undies, looking at each other. "Right Gemma, now the wig, then dresses and we're just about ready." Louise did the wig-fitting - she is always much better at doing up the fastenings behind my ears than me. Then she opened the wardrobe and took out her red dress. The famous red dress. The scarlet halter-neck 'just about covers my tits' red dress she had persuaded me to get her. In it, I knew, she was going to be a knockout. I was sure she had done an extra-special job on my figure and on my make-up, I hoped I would look good. But Louise was going to look sensational. I wasn't disappointed, and moved to grab her as soon as she turned for me to inspect. "No, Gemma, oh no. You really do have to keep your feeling under control, at least until we get home. You are my sister now, remember, not my husband. OK, let's see to your dress." She reached into the wardrobe again and took out the black dress. HER black dress, the typical LBD but 'with knobs on', or rather with sparkly gold sequins all over it. The dress which had been my very favourite on her before I had got her the red one. "I can't get into that!" I cried. "Yes you can, Gemma. You don't realise just how great your figure is in those undies, they certainly do their job." So I did, I tried. And it worked. I ended up virtually poured into it. The top was as tight as they come, low-cut but not too low-cut for my padded boobs. But looking in the mirror I realised, the combined effect of Louise's inserts and the undies compression worked. And it was short, oh-so-short, I loved it! "About a D-cup I reckon, Gemma. Looks sensational". She was right! And then the coup de theatre, the shoes. I hadn't given them much thought but Louise obviously had. Two shoe boxes came out from their hiding place under the bed. It's a good job her mother didn't look under there. Mine were black of course, but not just black. Shiny black patent stilettos, with about a 5" heel, and ankle straps with gold buckles. I knew I could never fasten them, not with my long cherry-coloured nails but Louise did that for me. Then I saw hers, a very similar style but in scarlet, and with, if it was at all possible, even higher heels, probably about 6". "Louise, those look gorgeous on you" I commented as she strolled around the bedroom. "You know what they are called, don't you?" "Yes I do" she replied, picking up her scarlet clutch bag and handing mine, a black and gold version, to me. "I have something to ask you, a very serious matter." I waited. "Geoff". It was the last time she called me that name that evening. I knew something serious was coming, and must have looked a little worried. "Geoff. We are going into a very different situation, with people we don't know. Lots of them tarted up like us, lots of drink and so on." I didn't see where this was leading, I must have looked even more puzzled. "Look, I rang Patrick about an hour ago. To check he would be here on time. I asked him - had he said Gemma's sister was married or not?" Now I realised. I would be there with Patrick but Louise would be 'unattached'. I thought for a moment. "Louise, we have been faithful to each other for over twenty years. I have and I know you have. Anything which happens tonight can't spoil that. This is a bit of fun, and anything that happens is a bit of fun too. I'm not wearing my wedding ring - it's too masculine anyway. Do you want to leave your wedding ring at home? Just for the night?" She slid it off and placed it on the dressing table. "And the moment we come in, it goes on again. Thanks, sis." Geoff was gone. "OK Gemma, come on, let me just add a little more gloss to my lipstick. Patrick will be here in a few minutes." She really did look sensational in that scarlet dress, and she certainly had the body to wear it. Glossy scarlet lips, high heels, the glistening rings and earrings and necklace. I really did feel so horny, but did manage to keep myself in check. Louise reached into the wardrobe to take out two silk shawls, one red, one black. "Right then, here we are. The finishing touch. OK sis. Ready." And then - it had to be, the final straw. Louise and I sat there, in the lounge, really each staring at the other and to some extent just plain not believing our eyes, being very full of ourselves and proud with our achievements, when the phone rang. Just for a moment we were both fearful, at least I was. Desperately hoping this was not another relative about to land on us for the night on short notice as they paused in passing us on the motorway network. Or a neighbour with a sick kid wanting to dump one on us briefly while the other was whisked off to hospital for a check-up. But no, it was Patrick. His car was giving trouble. Could we catch a taxi? 6 -- Party So we did. He gave us the address, we got there. Successfully, on our own, and only half an hour later than planned. As we got out of the taxi and Louise paid the driver, I looked round, and was totally relieved that Patrick was there, beside his car! "Sorry, girls, it did start, but only after ten minutes of trying. I really didn't want it breaking down mid-journey with you two on board." Me neither. Louise joined me, we three all headed towards the front door, we could hear the sounds of merriment already. As we moved into the light Patrick paused and looked us over. For a moment he said nothing, then ... "Streuth! I'm close to speechless. You both look totally gorgeous. Now, come on, I am going to walk in with the both of you and every prick in the house is going to stand to attention. Honestly." Which did absolutely nothing to quell my nerves. But Patrick was full of himself, and Louise was enjoying it too. She asked Patrick to wait just a moment, and turned to me. "Gemma. Believe me, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight, you'll remember this for a long time. Enjoy!" Patrick rang the bell and walked into the hall. We passed our shawls over to the young man on collecting duty for the evening. He had trouble immediately when Louise removed hers and he saw her bulging boobs. And I like to think he noticed my figure too. Anyway we walked into the main room, Patrick holding each of his two 'girls' by the hand. Though it would be wrong to say we were surrounded immediately, it took maybe five seconds for two of the men there, and one girl too, to come straight over to be introduced. "Patrick, hi there, nice to see you again, you're looking well." It was an attractive girl, wearing a real posh midnight-blue dress, more a gown, smooth and sleek but with a long slit right up to her waist. My very first reaction was, I am ashamed to say, 'I could wear that'. Patrick introduced us. "Hi Frances, you're looking gorgeous tonight, as usual. Frances, can I introduce you, this is Gemma, and this is Louise. Meet my cousin Frances and her husband Mike, hi Mike. And this long lump of nothing is Darren, Uncle George's son." We all smiled our greetings, Frances started chatting to Louise and I noticed straight away Darren was pulling faces at Patrick. Then I realised. He was George's son, so he was another cousin. The host's son so he probably knew who was coming. Patrick had said his girlfriend was in the States or something, that meant he was at least temporarily unattached. And Patrick had walked in with two provocatively dressed women, his girlfriend and her sister. He knew that, obviously, but he didn't know which was which. He was in a hurry too, he looked round nervously. He was trying to make sure none of the other 'wolves' got there first. He grabbed Patrick by the arm and pulled him away. "Come on, mate, let's get some drinks for you and your gorgeous girls." And as he moved away he muttered earnestly in Patrick's ear. I had beaten Patrick to it, I knew what was going on. I saw Patrick smile when he realised it too. They returned within half a minute from the kitchen. Patrick had his drink and a gin-and-tonic. Darren had the vodka-and-orange. He knew now, he was after Louise. Somehow, it still surprises me to think of it, I was pleased. Yes, pleased, that this young man was making a play for my wife. She moved away from Frances, actually she was almost dragged away as Darren made his move, handing over her drink and sliding in next to her. He smiled a self-satisfied smile. I could recognise the look - 'I'm in here'. Patrick steered us all across the room, it was heaving by now and the Stones' 'Brown Sugar' was thumping along in the background, to meet the happy anniversary couple, his Uncle George and Aunt Mary. They were a very nice couple indeed, as we chatted Patrick held on to my hand, I was squeezing tightly. But as the minutes passed I relaxed. This was going to work! I was in heaven. Or at least in cross-dresser's heaven. My fantasy come true, standing there with happy music all around me, laughing, drink in hand - and dressed up to the gills. Little black dress, big gold-hooped earrings glinting in the festive lights, smiling and chatting, and being smiled at and chatted to, indeed feeling once Uncle George's hand slide across my bum. This was sensational. I was to all intents and purposes Gemma, escort and indeed girlfriend of a rather attractive young man. Could it ever be better? I looked across at my wife, she was really getting chatted up by now. Darren was taking every opportunity to establish bodily contact, touching her hand, encouraging her along by taking her arm. She looked back and saw me, a very slight concern on her face but it was worry for me, not her. I knew she could handle herself. I just hung onto Patrick rather obviously and beamed the message back to her - 'don't worry, this is fantastic. Thanks!' Patrick and I mingled for nearly an hour, I relaxed more as we met more people and chatted. We had got our story sorted and there were no hiccups in it, many people knew of Patrick's interest in tennis, which gave some credence to our tale. It was the second G and T which really relaxed me, Patrick zoomed off to the kitchen to get it as soon as I had nearly finished the first. I think Louise must have told him, I relax after two drinks, and mustn't have more than four. Not these days anyway, when I was younger I could cope with nine or ten pints. Of beer that is, not gin. While he was gone Uncle George spotted me on my own and came over to chat, and to rest his hand on my bum again! I didn't stop him, he was a sweet man. As we had just about circulated through the whole assembly, there was a loud banging. Darren was calling things to order. He made a very good speech congratulating his Mum and Dad, thanking us all for coming, for being a supportive family and friends over the years, all that sort of thing. Champagne was passed round and we all toasted the 'happy couple' and cheered, it really was a very happy family party. And the strange thing was, hanging onto Patrick's arm as all this went on I didn't feel excluded. OK, I was a new addition to the 'family-and-friends' circle but everyone was making me feel very welcome. And I could see, over the heads of the crowd in the kitchen, Darren was busy making Louise welcome too! I spotted them creeping out of the French windows and grabbed Patrick, suggesting I needed some air.