I Is for Irene

byBethanyJ©

I looked down at John, half-naked on the big sofa, at his swelling shaft.

"Ready my love?"

"Er - ready."

I lifted myself up on my knees, sitting astride his thighs. I leaned right forward to kiss his lips again, and to enjoy a little more French-kissing. Then I sat back again.

As we separated I looked at him, imploringly, hopefully being the housewife-who-wanted-it, somehow wanting the role-play to continue. He looked at me. At my sexily made-up face, at my rich smooth, re-made-up lips. Then down to my bulging 'boobs'. And then - down again. The role-play had to change direction in some way. A strange look crossed John's face. I didn't have time to worry about it though, about exactly what was going through his mind. I needed – more cock. And not down my throat this time.

"What's wrong, John?" I asked, in as teasing a voice as I could manage. "Have you never seen a housewife with a cock before?"

"Er - no, I haven't."

I didn't wait. I decided to push on, to make the most of the opportunity. John did in fact look a little disappointed. To be honest I'm not surprised. Though I was erect again, having indulged in such erotic foreplay, I had known that he might be disappointed with my own cock. In fact it just didn't compare with his, it was fully three inches shorter, and not quite as thick. OK, so it wasn't the biggest or the thickest in the world. But it was erect, and I was horny again. Since he was being the guy, and me the girl, our next step was obvious.

I lifted myself up onto my knees and shuffled forward a little.

"OK John. Fuck me."

I didn't give him time to think. I slid across and lowered my arse down onto his erect prick. He jerked a little as it began to slide up my lubricated hole, not surprisingly. Neither of us spoke this time, we were too busy! Within seconds - he was right in! I was overjoyed, I just had to show my appreciation. I kissed him passionately again, thrusting my tongue between his lips and gently scraping my long red nails down his back as I hugged him. We rolled over, I was looking up - at my lover.

"Hell, I never thought! Oh my God, that is so gorgeous!"

I reached down to grab his cock, now fully re-hardened. I lifted my legs and guided it – there!

It was in. I was thrilled. I - Irene - was being a woman and was satisfying a man! Soon he was plunging his gorgeous hot cock deep into my arse-hole, sliding up and down and moaning in an ecstatic state comparable to my own. I just couldn't stay quiet.

"Oh God, John, YES! Cum up me, cum hard up my cunt my lover!"

And he did. I knew the neighbours in the adjoining house were away, lucky for me that they were. They'd surely have heard the shouts of uncontrollable lust coming from both of us as my lover – oh so rapidly - emptied more spunk deep up my arse. It was SUCH a delicious experience, I knew then that I'd never forget my first time with a man.

We collapsed. Sated. I smiled at my lover and gently smeared my lips across his.

"John, that was sensational!"

"It fucking was!"

John had to excuse himself, to go and pee after his exertions. I got up and began to dress again, realising that the new breast-form makeup had done its job superbly. There was still no trace of a join even after our sweaty exertions. I refilled my wine glass and lit a long cigarette, sitting on the sofa. My lover came down and kissed me yet again.

"John ..."

"Irene. That was sensational. I've never had sex like that - in my life!"

I glowed with pride. OK so it was my very first time, but I was so thrilled that John had been satisfied.

"John, you really...."

He interrupted me. I'd wanted so sit and discuss things, think about the role-plays we'd done online before and maybe which one we could do IRL - next time. And I was certain there was going to be a next time. But John wanted to have his say. He seemed to be in a hurry.

"Irene. I've got to go. Really. I'm so sorry to have to run so soon after this. I hope you won't think too badly of me but I have to get home, it's getting late, to help see to the kids. But - Irene. I've just got to see you again. How about tomorrow?"

I didn't understand the comment about kids but John's question distracted me. Tomorrow? Well - maybe. I knew Mary was still going to be away and so was Carol. We'd really just made arrangements for the one meeting, to see how things went. I wondered - for a moment - whether to suggest a 'meet' between Jennie and me. Me, in male mode, that is. But again John was ahead of me.

"We could go out for a drink, maybe. I'd just love to take you out."

Out? OUT?? That hadn't been anywhere in the plans. OK, so really I'd just love to, what tranny wouldn't? But I was still doubtful about whether I could 'pass'. Did John think I could?

"We could go to a pub I know, it's just off junction 8. They have an outside bar there. It's a bit dark there and very - er - romantic. At this time of year it's a very pleasant place to have a drink or two. Then maybe come back here again. And ..... How about it – are you up for it?"

'... a bit dark there? .... a drink or two?' Perfect. I should have thought about it but I didn't.

"John, I'd love to!"

Yet again I was going to say more. To ask about the pub, where it was, how I might be – received. But John really was in a hurry.

"I'll pick you up here - about eight. OK?"

"OK."

He bent down and kissed my cheek. And he went, he had to rush.

And I had to relax. The previous couple of hours had been so delightful. I'd realised a life's ambition - and there was the totally unexpected chance of achieving yet another dream the next night. I cleaned up somewhat, locked up, put on a short nightie – and went to bed.

Saturday - started out awfully. Now usually I liked Saturday mornings. Every week, my big workout, over half an hour's squash with my mate Will. But this time, in order to actually play, I had to 'undress'. Which meant using the awful-smelling solvent to take off the breast-forms, and going at my toenails with polish remover, and using the other even-worse-smelling solvent on my fingernails. And the most difficult thing, making absolutely sure that every single bit of make-up was removed. I'd had to do most of it Friday evening to be sure that all traces, all the bra pressure lines and thong lines and so on, had eased away in time.

And, distracted as I was, I really didn't play well. Will beat me easily. Well, I wasn't concentrating, was I? I had other things on my mind. I dashed away afterwards claiming I had an urgent appointment, so that Will wouldn't notice that my body hair had been removed. I had a quick lunch and then started out on my preparations for my second excitement in two days.

I'd picked the dress, of course. It just had to be my purple mini-dress. Not a micro this time. My mini is more stylish than that. And I just loved the colour, quite a deep reddish purple which allowed me to do all sorts of typically-tranny co-ordination with lipstick and nails and bag and eye-shadow. And a gorgeous necklet I'd only recently bought, a silver chain with a purple 'stone' in a very modern looking silver setting.

When I looked into the mirror - well - even I was impressed. I looked as good, as gorgeous and as sexy, as I'd ever looked even though I say so myself. John hadn't a chance. I'd won before we started. I was a little concerned though. John and I had always gone for the role-play thing online, and doing it the previous day had been such fun. Really he'd made a very good double-glazing salesman!

But since he was taking me out, I wondered if he had any other idea in mind for our 'evening out'. As if that wasn't an exciting enough idea. By the time I was ready it was already after half-seven, John would be here soon. He couldn't ring me of course, we'd never swapped phone numbers before our first meeting. Safety first, like they say. Maybe he'd e-mailed me? I rushed up to the study and logged on. Yes, there was an e-mail from him.

I opened it. I read it. I was puzzled.

'Hi Irene. John here, I'm so VERY SORRY about tonight. I'm not going to be able to make it.'

SHIT! I'd got all tarted up for nothing! But - I read on.

'Mary decided not to go away so our first meeting is going to have to be delayed. I promise you, this is not a lame excuse, it's real. As soon as I can I WILL write again, we really MUST meet somehow. Maybe even Irene and Jennie next time. Lots of love. John XXX'

It didn't make sense. Then I noticed the date. And the time. Yesterday. 3.05 pm. So if John had emailed me then ....

Then it clicked. He'd said something about having to go to 'see to the kids'. Plural. Kids. In all our previous conversations, our chats online, John had mentioned - several times - his son. Just his son. In fact, I remembered when we'd been chatting about something at some time in the past, he'd made a point of saying he only had the one son. And no daughters, I distinctly recalled him mentioning that. He'd said that in some ways he was glad he hadn't got a daughter so he wasn't tempted to wear her clothes because they would be too young for him. For Jennie, that is.

So John had sent the email the previous afternoon .... telling me that he wouldn't be able to make it .... because his wife hadn't actually gone away .... and he only had one son ..... unlike the guy who'd fucked me ..... who had 'kids' – plural .... so .... that guy wasn't John. Not 'my' John at least.

Suddenly, despite the two glasses of wine I'd had to calm myself down before my 'date' arrived, I was awake. Wide awake. I'd been fucked by a double-glazing salesman called John.

Two co-incidences. OK so John, a common enough name. A double-glazing salesman. Well, common enough. And - there was a third one. The fact that this double-glazing salesman, the one who wasn't the John I was expecting and who probably wasn't doing any sort of role-play at all, had called on me at just about the same time as I'd been expecting - my John. Jennie, that is. But as John.

Hell. Coincidences apart, there were other factors here. John, my date, was due in - I looked at the clock at the bottom corner of my screen - about five minutes. And even more importantly, he wasn't, or probably wasn't, a tranny or even a tranny-fancier. He was - or he probably had been - just an ordinary guy. And he'd fucked me. More than that, up until the moment I'd taken my thong off he hadn't known! All the time we'd been making out, and all the way through that blow-job, he'd thought I was - a randy housewife seducing a double-glazing salesman. I'd passed.

The importance of that thought hit me like a brick. A very large brick.

I'D PASSED!! I'D BLOODY PASSED!!!!

The doorbell rang.

John - that John - had arrived. To take me out. What the hell was I going to do? I could just sit tight, not answer the door. He'd either assume I was out, or didn't want to see him, and go. Probably.

I thought quickly. Very quickly. But there was no contest really, it was as they say a no-brainer. There was only one thing any self-respecting transvestite could do. I went down the stairs, and opened my front door. John – THAT John - was there. He came in, and looked me over.

"Christ, Irene. You look even more gorgeous today."

I reached up and slung my arms round his neck to pull his body close to mine. I kissed him, passionately. VERY passionately.

"Hi honey, good to see you. So. You want to take me out - or fuck now?"

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