B is for Bethany

I wriggled sideways and pushed open the door. I slid my right leg out first, then my left, then stood up in the car park with my skirt almost round my waist and my mouth full of Mike's sperm. I leaned down and spat it out near the rear wheel. OK so I'd tasted it but I really didn't want to swallow it all. I realised - now was the time to go. I stood up straight, pushing my 'boobs' out a bit and smoothing my skirt down from its elevated position. Then I noticed. We weren't alone.

There were two people in front of me, two young people. I realised just who they were, the youngish girl I'd seen before on the High Street and one of the two boys who'd been with her. They were standing, holding hands, about fifteen yards from me just beyond the back end of my own car. I didn't think they'd been there long, in fact I know they hadn't. If they had I'm sure their reaction would have been different. They were just standing still, holding hands. Staring.

In thinking about this since, I've wondered if they did realise what they were seeing. Unlike Mike they were most probably sober. But they hadn't been too close, they hadn't had any opportunity to discover that I wasn't what I seemed to be. As far as they were concerned I was a woman getting out of a car and re-arranging her clothing. And they weren't that young, they probably thought I'd just had sex in the car.

There was a movement behind me, as I felt the car door being pushed, and as I saw Mike's leg begin to emerge. I could see he'd got partly dressed in the few seconds since I'd got out. But not entirely, like me he probably needed to be able to stand up and sort his pants and shirt out. I turned and leaned in.

"Wait. Someone's here!"

I had an excuse to whisper again, his leg quickly withdrew into the car. He hadn't seen anyone, I don't think. He was probably sobering up a bit and didn't want to be found there 'in flagrante delicto' with another woman. Not his wife, I mean. I grabbed Mike round the neck and pulled his head towards me and kissed him. I darted my tongue into his mouth for what I knew had to be the last time. I grabbed my bag which I'd seen just beginning to slide down off the bench seat, stood up, closed the car door behind me, and turned.

With my bag slung over my shoulder I walked the ten or more yards back to my car, getting the tight-short-skirt-and-high-heels thrill once more. As I passed the young couple still standing there, I just gave them a brief smile. I got my car key out from my bag, opened my door, and got in.

Within twenty seconds I'd started my car, checked my side mirror to see them still standing there, reversed straight out and then swung round to drive along the car park and away. After about forty yards I'd put my lights on. OK I know it was naughty of me not to do that before reversing but I really didn't want anyone to have a good chance of seeing my number plate, it would have been a bit difficult to read it properly in the lighting in the car park.

I turned right outside the car park, then right again down the High Street and I was away, very carefully keeping under the speed limit until I reached the end of town. I most definitely did NOT want either to get caught on one of the new speed cameras on that road or to be stopped by a police car. Just out of town I pulled off the road into a truck lay-by, shielded from the road by bushes. I hoped there would be nobody else stopped there at that time of the morning and I was right.

I got out of the car just for a few minutes to enjoy my final little walk as Bethany and to have a cigarette. And to try to calm down. From THAT. From my last 'escapade' as a woman, from doing oral sex on a man I vaguely knew in a car park. The evening had, obviously, gone way further than I'd expected.

Back home I had two more cigarettes and the G-and-T I'd prepared earlier. I resisted the temptation to have another. In the hall mirror I stood and looked at 'Bethany'. Lipstick slightly messed up, but only slightly, I was a little surprised at that. But basically as far as I was concerned, a gorgeous woman. But then of course I'm biased. Upstairs I undressed quickly and threw all my female clothing in a neat pile at the side of the bed. I removed most of my make-up, put on my male night attire and went to bed.

The alarm I'd remembered to set woke me at nine again. I sorted all the clothes before dressing. The skirt I hung up after very carefully inspecting it. The sweater I was going to wash. My basque, shoes, wig, the false nails, tights, stockings, all went into a big bag. I tidied Carol's make up on her dresser and then tossed one of her bedside books onto it, knocking them - some sort of reason for their not being exactly as she'd left them. I very carefully went through my make-up removal routine again. And checked my pillow, of course, but it was OK.

I showered, using my own gel to remove and/or cover any remains of Carol's perfume. I opened the bedroom windows a little to help with that, then dressed. I removed all traces of my G-and-T and cigarettes from downstairs, adding the not-empty pack to my big bag of stuff. After coffee and toast I drove to the local tip, open Sundays from 10 'til 2, with the old lawnmower from the garage.

'Lawnmower,' you're thinking? Yes. An excuse to go to the tip. I threw the old mower into the big skip on top of the big bag containing all my female stuff. I knew that within 24 hours it would be all crunched up and heading for a landfill, they always did that Monday mornings. And I drove home and them completed all my clearing up.

That evening as Carol was recovering from her long drive I told her I'd taken the mower to the tip. She heard me and smiled a little, but didn't comment, she really was tired.

So Bethany is no more. Her accessories are on a land-fill somewhere. No visible trace in the house, I hope. And again, Mike, if you do read this, thanks. And I hope you're not too shocked to find the sort of woman who sucked you off in that car park. But I know you enjoyed it. Needless to say I did. Like I said, no visible trace remains, just a mental epitaph in my own mind which I'd like to share with you.

'Bethany Jacques. R. I. P. She went out - in style.'