T Is for Teresa

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Transgender-themed stories which I hope will be of interest to those who like women, or would like to be a woman. Which includes me!
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It was when I was still living at home, or at least staying there in the college holidays, that Mum came home and found me and Jack Horton lying on the living room floor, naked, and giving each other sixty-nine. She knew I was gay, or course, but was still shocked. As was Jack.

After he'd dressed and left, literally with his tail between his legs, my mother and my father came into my bedroom together. Looking grim. I thought I knew what was coming, and I was in fact right.

"Terry, look. When you've left home and got your own place and so on - well - you can paint it pink and fuck whoever you like."

And this was Mum talking, I'd never heard her use THAT word before.

"But until then. Please. Take care. Some of the neighbours, most of them indeed, wouldn't understand. OK?"

"OK Mum."

I think Dad was glad she'd taken the lead there, he looked rather embarrassed. So for several years after that, during my college course, and for the couple of years after that while I lived at home, I kept sex and home life separate. And even after I got a flat I was working hard on my career and didn't get the chance to socialise.

It was when I met Kali at a gay club that my life changed. I'd never met a really convincing tranny close-to before, and the sex was just mind-blowing! It was her who taught me the finer points of dressing up and warned me about being ripped off by spurious saleswomen. Kali taught me a lot – she was really my mentor – or should that be mentoress? - in all things tranny.

"OK Teresa, look" she'd told me one day as I was trying on a new pair of heels. "You can get most of what you need online these days. Stay clear of the sex shops, they're good but they're expensive. And you look really great, damn near convincing. You're lucky you're so slim, girl."

I'd smiled, and posed while she took some rather risqué photos, and wondered just how I was going to tell my parents. Really it would not have been a good idea for either Mum or Dad to see some of them – especially the short video we did later. Of me in the red heels and lingerie I'd just bought, and Kali in black pvc. On her bed – doing – stuff!

After that incident with Jack Mum and Dad had coped well overall with the fact that I'm gay, but a transvestite too? In fact it was about a month later when Dad was visiting me in my new flat for a few days that the decision was taken out of my hands.

"Is this you, Terry?" he'd asked, holding up a photograph.

I nearly swore, realising that I'd cleared away most of the latest set of photographs Kevin had brought round, but I'd kept two out to scan myself and maybe put on my T-page on the Net.

"Er - yes."

"Wow!" He looked across towards me and smiled a little, much to my surprise. "Care to tell me about it?"

So I did. Briefly, in about ten minutes, trying to explain just what I got out of it. About the fun of dressing up. The make-up, the heels, the silky and sexy dresses, all that. I'm not sure he totally got it, which didn't really surprise me. My father was – to the best of my knowledge – 100% straight.

"And with men?" he asked.

"Er - not yet. Not as Teresa, that is."

He'd seemed somewhat reassured by that. I didn't mention what Kali and I got up to. That wasn't with a man – that was with a tranny, as far as I was concerned. That was different.

Dad persuaded me to show him how I coped with the dressing, that had rather surprised me too. I'd not been able to spend as much time as I'd have hoped doing the lot, sticking my breast-forms on and sorting out all my make-up and jewellery and so on properly, though I had gone for a short skirt and high heels. And my best long-haired wig of course.

"Oh my!"

That had been Dad's reaction when I'd strolled as casually as I could into the lounge to show him, and to show off to him of course. He'd smiled as I twirled and posed for him as we carried on, with him asking questions and me posing for maybe twenty minutes or so altogether.

"Well, Terry" had been his final comment with a grin. "I never thought I'd say this but - you make a damn fine woman. Great legs!"

I'd noticed him staring at my legs. I grinned myself and leaned over to give him a very brief kiss on the cheek.

"It's Teresa now, Dad. Remember? Do you like having a daughter then?"

"Now, now, Teresa. Terry. That's enough of that."

He'd trotted off down the hall to his room then, it was getting late, and I did likewise to change and clean up thoroughly before bed. And that would have been that, except maybe half an hour later I padded down to the bathroom to do my teeth before retiring, knowing I needed enough sleep for a day at work the next day.

Dad was taking a week off from work, of course. While I'd been out the previous couple of days he'd busied himself helping me to sort out the flat, fitting alarms to the windows and the doors, that sort of thing. He always was more of a do-it-yourself guy than me.

As I returned to my room I noticed his door was ajar. I could hear noises. And through the crack in the door I could see his reflection as he lay on the bed. Naked. My Dad was laying there naked on the bed, and he was – looking at me laptop! I could just see the screen – he was looking at my webpage. At the video – THAT video – of Kali and I in her bed! And he was wanking! His cock was erect - and huge! But as if that wasn't enough, I could hear what he was saying, his voice became a little louder as he neared his climax.

"Come on Kali .... do it for me, suck my big cock ..... mmmm, Teresa ........ for Daddy ........ suck your daddy's cock ... oh my God, Teresa, you're fucking......!"

At which point, I was staring, I couldn't help it, a jet of semen shot out across the bed onto his towel!

I backed away. Quickly and quietly. I was sweating, I padded back to my own room and slid into bed. My dad was getting off on fantasies of Kali – and of ME - of Teresa, that is, he was imagining sex with....! It didn't bear thinking about. But I did think about it. As something of a cock expert, I've seen quite a few, soft, hard, in action even, but what I'd witnessed had blown me away!

The next morning I said nothing. But I'd been thinking, I'd not slept much. That penis image was in my head, I couldn't shift it. I knew Dad was taking the day out from the sorting of my flat, he was driving over for a man's day out with an old mate who lived not far from me. As he left, I called out to him.

"Dad. Tonight? I'm cooking, OK? I thought of doing something a bit special, as a thank-you for the work you've done round the flat."

"Sounds good, Terry. What did you have in mind?"

"You'll see, Dad. I'll time it for seven. OK?"

"Right then, son, see you then."

I got to work, got through work, and indeed managed to get off a bit early and beat the traffic. I only paused once on the way home, at 'Mirabelle's' for a new pair of stockings. I got in and very rapidly sorted the meal from some of the stuff in the freezer. I got the best plates out and sorted the dining table, then spent almost two hours sorting me.

Dad got back at almost exactly seven o'clock. I heard him open the front door with his key and go into the living room. I heard him shout to let me know that he was here. I called out from the kitchen, telling Dad to sit on the sofa and that I would be in to join him very soon.

It was a beautifully warm night, and I peered round the corner of the door to see Dad make himself comfortable on the sofa. Dinner was ready, and so was I! As I walked through in my heels, carefully, they were higher heels than I was used to, I entered Dad's field of view. He sat up suddenly. He turned towards me and stared. Naturally.

"Can I offer you a drink, Daddy darling?" I asked gently. "Scotch and soda?".

I leaned over towards him with the glass in my hand. He took it, then he hesitated for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was only a few seconds. He swallowed the lot, in one gulp.

"Oh my God!!" was all he said.

And he just stared.

He was staring at me, at Teresa, at his 'daughter' who was standing in front of him and leaning down in what could have been described as a provocative manner. Getting ready and made-up to greet my 'Daddy' that evening had taken me so much longer than usual. I looked at the expression on his face, for that look alone it had been worth it!

My long, wavy, chestnut 'hair' was piled high up on my head. It had taken ages to get the styling of my wig right but it was worth it. I felt good, maybe better than ever as I embarked on my first full evening in my new flat as 'Teresa'. I was wearing rather heavy and exotic make-up around my eyes and cheek bones, and my full lips were a violent slash of red. Dad's gaze went down my long, bare neck and onto my exposed shoulders.

From them hung two slender straps. I could see his eyes automatically following them down to the slivers of black silk that barely covered my rather large 'breasts'. I shivered as for the first time my efforts were studied, the stuck-on but very effective false boobs, with rather large protruding aureoles. I'd never dared try it before - bra-less, I mean - but I could see from the look in Dad's eyes it basically worked.

I moved around from the side of the sofa to sit on the chair opposite. I put my own glass on a small table beside the chair and turned around to sit down. It was only then that Dad was able to see that my long black satin dress was slit down the right side. I don't mean a slit from ankle to knee, nor even from ankle to mid-thigh. No, my dress was slit right the way up to my hip. I sat down on the chair slowly. Dad's eyes were glued to me as I slowly crossed right over left, leaving both of my long shapely legs entirely exposed to his gaze, making it clear I was wearing black seamed stockings.

I could see him trying not to look. He was trying to look at his drink, at the wall, the floor, the ceiling above him. But it was no good, he had to look at me. I had to tease him even further.

"I thought you might like me to dress for dinner, Daddy. Do you like the dress?"

He coughed a little, realising that I knew damn well he was staring at me.

"My God, Terry. I mean Teresa. You look - well - as very pretty!"

Pretty! Hell, the 'look' I'd put so much effort into was more than pretty! It was sexy, it was provocative, it was lewd. I'd bought the dress with my friend Simon in mind but after what I'd found out about Dad and his fantasies, I hadn't been able to resist the temptation of wearing it for him.

"And the heels, Dad. What about them? I think they go well with the dress, don't you?"

I started to swing my raised foot and suggestively show off my ultra-high-heeled stiletto. He stared. I smiled. I moved the conversation back onto small talk, neutral stuff, but I could tell Dad was distinctly uncomfortable. Physically so, he had his own legs crossed and was trying to cope with what was happening in there. I was giving him a hard-on!

The image of my -father wanking while calling my name leapt back into my mind. I noticed him make a clumsy and rather obvious attempt to cover his shame, but this just made me want to tease him even more. I leaned over to my left to put my glass on the floor beside the chair, knowing full well that the table to my right was much nearer. The whole purpose of which was to allow the split in my dress to expose my stocking-clad leg again almost as far as my right hip.

"You look - oh wow!!"

I smiled at the reaction I was having on my father. Then within the blink of an eye I uncrossed my legs and rose from the chair. I sauntered over towards him, again being careful in my black high heeled stilettos, and took his empty glass. As I walked away from him towards the kitchen, I heard a deep sigh. He'd noticed, probably not before then, that my dress was backless almost down to the crack of my arse. Then as we were seated again in the lounge Dad settled just a little. He was still nervous though.

"Well - er Teresa. You really do look stunning, you know, I suppose I should ask. Your mother is going to want to know. Is there a - er - boyfriend? You know? Someone I should know about?"

At that, I slid towards him and put my arms around his shoulders, it was only natural for him to put his left hand around my waist.

"No, Dad, there isn't. There's only one man in my life at the moment."

As I slowly moved my mouth towards his right ear, he allowed his hand to drop slightly towards my exposed hip. Just as his finger touched the soft, smooth skin in the gap above my sheer black stockings, the swelling in his groin reappeared.

I whispered in his ear.

"Dad, I'm very grateful for what you've been doing in the house the past few days. I really ought to thank you. So I want you to know that I'd do anything for you. Anything."

"Oh hell. Look. Teresa. I mean, you do look so much like a woman. A really sexy woman, but ...."

I needed to shut him up. I gave him a brief, gentle, tender kiss at the corner of his mouth, and leaned back, pushing my big 'boobs' outwards and revealing a positively indecent amount of cleavage.

"Well, Dad. If it makes you feel any better.... " I said, "....since I haven't got a boyfriend, why don't we agree that you will be my boyfriend tonight. Not 'Dad', or even 'Daddy.' My boyfriend. How about it, it might be fun? To have dinner with your 'girlfriend'? I won't tell Mum if you don't!"

Dad laughed nervously at the joke but he really had to agree, though I'm pretty sure he didn't know exactly what he was agreeing to. I continued the teasing, steadily but not in a major way, all through dinner. We were sat on opposite sides of my small dining table and he was clearly uncomfortable with his transvestite son basically flirting with him, touching his hand with my long-scarlet-nailed fingers as I passed things to him, sliding a little sideways in my chair to cross my legs and reveal my stocking tops, that sort of thing.

When I stood up at the end of the meal, I smiled as I looked down yet again at the lump in his trousers. It gave me an immense amount of girly satisfaction to know that I had caused that. I took the plates out into the kitchen and returned with a large brandy for him. At first he refused, saying that he still had to drive home.

"Daddy, please, we've finished a whole bottle of wine between us. You're already over the limit, maybe you should phone Mum up to tell her that you'll be spending one more night here."

I walked across the room towards the staircase.

"Give Mum a ring now, Dad. I just want to show you something special tonight."

And with that I disappeared upstairs. I just heard him call out something like 'Maybe I could call a taxi' but I wasn't sure he was going to at that moment. I was so sure I'd tempted him in some way, he wanted to see what I'd meant by 'something special.'

About five minutes later I descended the stairs, appreciating in a typically tranny fashion the distinctive sound of my high heels on the stairs. I walked into the lounge and smiled at Dad.

"What do you think?" I asked.

He nearly choked on his brandy. He stared again at me, his 'daughter' standing not three feet in front of him. He looked down first, at her sexy black, high heeled stilettos, but as his eyes rose up her long, silky legs, he got to the top of her thighs before he saw the hem of her ultra-short, sheer, black baby-doll night-dress held up by two thin straps. Her long red hair now fell in thick wavy curls around her shoulders, and he must have noticed that she had touched up her make-up, adding more lip-gloss.

"Teresa, you look stunning. But do you think it's appropriate?"

"It wouldn't be if you were my father tonight," I began, with the hint of a smile playing on my lips and a smouldering look in my carefully made-up brown eyes. "But we've already agreed that tonight you are my boyfriend, so it's not inappropriate at all."

He wasn't at all sure about that but I continued my seduction.

"Have you phoned mother yet?" I asked.

He was having doubts, I could tell. He shook his head.

"Maybe it would be better if I left."

Once again this was a cue for me to move towards him and sit down beside him on the sofa. Putting my arms around him, I whispered in his ear.

"Dad, I've seen the way you've been looking at me this evening. A girl knows that look when she sees it in a man."

Dad was flustered.

"But you're not a .... I mean. Hell! It's difficult not to look at you like that, the way you're dressed tonight. I'm only human after all. But I'm your father, and it's not as if you're really ...."

I'm not totally sure exactly what he was going to say, but from his tone I could tell it was going to be a prelude to some sort of backing-out. Hell, I'd been flirting with him all evening, but up to then it had been a transvestite version of his son who had been doing so. Things had to change. I had to alter his view of his sexy companion. I leaned in toward him again, stroking his cheek gently with my long-red-nailed fingers, allowing my lips to caress his ear gently as I whispered.

"I don't just mean tonight, Dad. Last night, I didn't mean to pry but - you were quite loud. I saw you, on your bed, alone, I saw what you were doing, I heard what you were saying when ...."

Dad said nothing. Clearly he was somewhat ashamed.

"Daddy. We're on our own tonight. You and I. You and Teresa. All night if you want. We can be whoever we like and do anything we like in here and nobody will ever know."

I sat down beside him, and began to run my fingers through his hair. The fact that he wasn't already up and running away from the house told me that his mind was not as made up as it should be in the circumstances. I continued to tease and tempt him.

"I heard what you were saying last night when you were .... you know. Looking at my website and .... I heard you say 'Teresa'. So just pick up the phone and tell Mum that you're staying over one more night. Just make that one call - and all this can be yours."

He looked up at me with a quizzical expression on his face. I stood up and moved a step away from him. His hard-on was now highly visible through his trousers. It told me more than any words could say about how right I was.

Slowly, I brought my hands up to the shoestring straps that held up my flimsy lingerie. Tantalisingly, my Daddy's 'daughter' slipped them from her shoulders, and I heard him sigh in amazement as first of all my breasts, bulging out above the half-cups of my black bra, and then my tight black thong came into view. For whatever reason, maybe because he was just admiring how well I was giving the illusion of being a woman, he had been trying to catch a glimpse of them all night. And now they were being brazenly paraded in front of him. Their heaving told him that I, too, was in a high state of arousal. As I fondled my 'boobs' through my bra with one hand, and let the other slide down to tease the front of my thong I whispered seductively once more.

"Just pick up the phone, Dad, ring Mum. Just make the call. You know you want to."

We both knew that there could only be one solution. I picked up the phone and, with one long glossy-red-nailed thumb, began to dial....

...0...1...2...1....

"Ready Daddy?"

I continued dialling, then held the handset up to his ear as I pressed the green 'Send' button.

Even before the dialling tone - which I could just about hear - had finished, with my left leg on the floor, I reached my right leg across his lap, bent slightly, with the long spiked heel of my right stiletto rubbing along his ever-growing shaft.

As my mother answered, one of his hands moved down first to touch my thigh, then to caress it, then to move up and over past the lace top onto bare flesh. I knew then - I'd got him - or at least I thought so