That Red Dress Started It...! Ch. 09byBethanyJ©
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!
To see, coming into the door - a policeman, followed by a policewoman, and Kate.
"Excuse me - miss."
Again. Policemen. Again! My mind went back to that first time in the Ladies' in the supermarket. What was it this time? Had I been rumbled? I stood up very nervously, then hastily slid my hands down my thighs to smooth my skirt - and to make it just a little longer! There is a time and a place for such a short skirt but right now I wasn't sure....
There was movement behind them, someone coming in the door.
"Yes. Can I help?"
It was Andrew! My rescuer, maybe, he had just come into his office and was obviously surprised at the reception committee. He looked at Kate, then across at me and at the police officers. My admiration grew, he must have been surprised to see me yet he reacted so quickly and so smoothly.
"Sorry for interrupting, sir? We've had a request to contact you from Mrs Hannon in Perry Barr. Mrs Mary Hannon."
"Mary? Yes, she's my sister. What's this about?"
Kate butted in. She didn't know what was going on. None of us did but she wasn't having the operation of her store disrupted.
"I'm sorry Andrew, am I needed here? It's closing time, one of us is going to be needed out front. Can we have a couple of minutes, officer?"
The policeman nodded his assent and Kate took my arm to lead me out of the office.
"Hang on Kate" called Andrew after her.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me with him, turning towards the officers.
"I'll be back in a minute, is that OK? I just need a word with my girlfriend."
Girlfriend? I was a bit surprised to realise he was using the word to describe me. I could see Kate looking at me in disbelief as we headed down the short corridor and out into the store, still holding hands.
"Sorry Bethany, I do have to see to this. It's my sister, that's why I went over to her place on New Year's Eve. Her husband is none too gentle with her - specially when he's had a few drinks. It looks like I'm going to be busy again tonight. I had hoped to see you again but - sorry, it will have to wait. OK honey?"
Kate was still watching with a look of surprise on her face. I was rather shaken too myself. Police? Wife-beating husband? Even closing the store, for some reason my being a tranny seemed incidental to everyday life. But then I glimpsed myself reflected in one of the tall mirrors near one of the store's clothing racks. No, 'Bethany' wasn't so unimportant. Not to me.
In so many ways, to Kate, to several policemen and women by now, to Neil, even to Dave that sex-crazed security guy, I WAS a woman. My life had turned some sort of corner and there was no going back. I kissed Andrew briefly on the cheek and told him I did understand, he really must go and help his sister again. Kate walked with me to the front door and out of the store.
"Bethany, you are going to tell me what is going on aren't you? Soon?"
I promised her that I would one day and drove straight home. Helen wasn't there yet, I really did want to talk to her. I busied myself around the place for an hour, did the dishes, re-did my make-up for some reason, trying to work out how I was going to sort out my life. At about seven, Andrew rang. He had got to his sister's while her husband was at the police station and had come to some sort of arrangement with the powers-that-be.
Their problem was that his brother-in-law hadn't actually broken any serious laws except for 'disturbing the peace' - drunken shouting and threatening and so on. And more than that, the house was actually his, not joint property. As a temporary solution Andrew suggested that Mary and her daughter should come and stay with him, in his spare room for a few days. Which, as he said, would rather dampen his social life for a while.
"Unless of course you want to move in with me. 'Auntie Bethany'. How does that sound?"
I giggled at the thought. He was joking, I realised. But he was right, any thought of dinner - and sex - was out. I was disappointed but I didn't have time to fret. I heard the knock at the door and had to hang up. Helen was back. We spent about half an hour chatting, me telling her some of, in fact many of, the details of the previous twenty-four hours. Eventually she had to leave when Charlie got home. I changed.
If this was a story I can see how it would have gone from there. I would have got back together with Andrew after a few days and we would have gone into sexual overdrive, screwing and fucking day and night. After which - well. Either we would have tired and moved on. Or I would have gone through a proper sex change and become his wife. Or maybe the shock of his bisexual activities would have driven him to give up all matters of the flesh. And become a priest maybe. Or I could have become a nun!
But what did happen? Put simply, none of the above. Andrew did ring me after a few days to say that Mary's husband had 'dried out' and she and her daughter had moved back home but his mother had gone to stay for a while with them, to help them to get back on the rails.
But by then both he and I had become very busy in our separate ways. I was back in college. Prof Kingsley – who thankfully didn't see in me any signs of the woman he'd flirted with a few days earlier - had made some suggestions to 'beef up' my project. I realised I had to lend it greater academic weight so I suddenly had a lot more research to do. And Andrew was busy trying to sort out some financial problems at work with the 'CC' chain, some of the group's competitors were making inroads into their profits. He and Charlie and the directors had several late meetings trying to come up with strategies to compete.
So, ridiculous though it seems, we just didn't have time for sex, not on a regular basis anyway. In fact it was four weeks until we got back together. But it was worth the wait. We celebrated our 'one month' anniversary on the first day of February in style. Dinner at Andrew's place, me in that red dress which he hadn't seen before. And sex - I stayed the night and we did it again and again - and again. Three times that night, it was so beautiful.
And on the first day of March we just went out to a pub. Just? Well, a little more than that. We went with Charlie and Helen to the King's Arms, to Kate and Lennie's engagement party. We drank and danced and bopped all evening - and bonked all night. At least four different ways. At one stage I even got Andrew to put on a pair of my panties, this was after we'd gone back to the flat. He looked silly, he really did. But that was my cue. For the first time I screwed him. Among other things!
I thought that might be the start of something more, some sort of 'going steady' but yet again we both found ourselves busy on our different projects. We did get together briefly at the beginning of April. I 'dressed down' for me. I'd got a rather stern but very well tailored business suit which looked good on me, I thought, at least it did with black stockings and heels and rather over-the-top jewellery. I visited Andrew at 'CCs' just before lunchtime, we ended up having a very merry lunch in the pub over the road and then fucking in the stock-room back at the store.
The first Monday of May was a Bank Holiday, no work for Andrew and the college was closed. It was then things really got serious. And very, very, very interesting. I dressed and was ready for Andrew when he picked me up late morning. It really was quite a warm day for the time of year, nearer summer than spring so I went for a short mini again. I knew Andrew liked my legs. And a low-cut top of course which showed off my tits to best advantage.
He brought a picnic! One of the expensive variety, from a store in Brum, wine and salad and expensive pâté and nice bread and cheese and so on. He drove us out of town to Cannock Chase. OK there were lots of people around but there was lots of room too. It was easy for us to find a secluded spot, to kiss and cuddle, to finish our picnic and our wine, and to fuck solidly for nearly an hour. Which might not have been very exceptional - after all lots of lovers make the most of fine weather and long grass to make love in the open air. Andrew was getting as much out of it as I was, he was on top of me, stroking his long lovely cock deep up and down inside my arse, and had managed to pull my top up and nearly remove my bra so that my bulging boobs were totally exposed in the warm sunshine.
"Had enough darling?" I asked as we lay there with Andrew subsiding after his third orgasm.
Andrew smiled wickedly as he looked down at me.
"Is that some sort of challenge then, honey. Are you ready for a fourth time?" he asked, raising his bum and gently sliding his cock right up my arse again.
It slid in so smoothly, its passage eased by the liberal coating of the previous three ejaculations inside me. It really was, I thought, the most exquisite of feelings, a man's solid penis thrusting up deep inside my bum.
I happened to look up. There, looking down at us, was an old man. And a woman. Probably about seventy years old, each of them, dressed - well - like seventy-year-olds - and smiling. I gulped. Andrew noticed something was wrong and, without pausing in his wonderful sliding action, turned to follow my gaze.
"Don't worry, you two, carry on. Don't let us disturb you, we'll just watch. This is really a bit of nostalgia for Peter here and me. This is almost the exact same spot where Peter first fucked me nearly fifty years ago. Do you remember, dear?"
It took Andrew and I both quite a while to recover, we were both trying hard not to giggle but to concentrate on the matter in hand. Or rather the matter 'in arse'. Eventually Andrew got his rhythm back and we both rather enjoyed the novelty of the couple's voyeurism as they watched us screw. Fortunately Andrew was on top of me and they couldn't see the actual action but I'm sure they enjoyed our pleasuring of each other. As we recovered and I tried to work out how to slide Andrew's spent cock out of me without them seeing my own secret, I looked up again. Peter had his hand round his wife's breast and was trying to make some progress himself.
"Hang on dear, wait a while" said the wife. "Come on, let's get home. You can have me there, we're too old for this outdoor stuff".
And they strolled off hand-in-hand. Peter was still trying to fondle his wife as they walked away. Andrew and I couldn't help it, we both finally succumbed to loud and long-lasting giggles as we tried to sort out our clothing and body parts to a state approaching respectability. Not that I could really look respectable in that plunge top.
Eventually we got back to my flat. Helen and Charlie were both out so we had a quiet restful evening watching TV and having a few drinks. And for the first time we didn't screw when we went to bed, we were both somewhat weary after the effects of the afternoon. However we made up for it in the morning, Andrew was rather surprised to wake and find his now erect penis three-quarters of the way down my throat.
"OK honey, you'll get your drink in a minute - oh shit that is so good, do that again"
So I did, I got the head of his cock jammed in my throat and sucked hard.
"Christ Bethany, you really are the very best cock-sucker ever".
I wondered at that moment just how many times Andrew had been in that situation and with who. How many men, how many women? But such thoughts ended as I felt Andrew rotate beneath me and his hand begin sliding up my legs.
We spent quite some time investigating each other's bodies. He slowly kissed me all over, lightly biting my body, and eventually finding himself around my crotch. We were both entangled in a 69 position with me on top. My cock was hard and found his mouth straight away. While I was thrusting my hips, he was doing exactly the same. I realised that I'd have to cum soon. I picked up pace and without any warning, released a load straight into his mouth. Andrew kept his motion going while I pumped my load into him.
After a few minutes he was aroused again and, to finish off a splendid day and night - or so I thought - Andrew climbed on top of me and executed the longest and most ardent fuck of our entire relationship, pumping an enormous load of hot sticky cum deep up my arse. I was totally knackered at the end of it and collapsed slightly while he seemed invigorated, getting up straight away and heading for the bathroom. I dashed in as he came out, almost stripping and showering, then making sure my 'tits' were in place and the joins were not visible, at least along the top. Feeling refreshed I wrapped a towel decorously round me to cover myself up, not feeling at all silly about this, and headed back into the bedroom.
Since Andrew was going to have to go to work - I knew that - we were both in a bit of a hurry to get ourselves sorted. I fetched the milk in having decided yet again not to intercept the delivery, Pete really couldn't take my bulging tits in an under-wired bra! I was still only half-dressed and had only just decided which earrings to wear when Andrew came out of the bedroom. He was showered, groomed, ready for work and looking very good indeed. I smiled.
"Ah, the worker. It's a grim life for a man" I joked.
Andrew slid his hands round my waist and hugged me closer to him.
"Oh I don't know, there are a few definite pluses in being a man, you know. Like last night for example. So how many times did we do it then?"
"Do what, Andrew? Oh, have sex you mean, well, six or seven maybe in total, so what's wrong? Not enough for you? Want to fuck me again? Now?"
"Sorry Bethany, I can't, not now. Got to get to work."
We kissed. Not passionately but with affection. As we parted, smiling yet again, Andrew slid his left down away from my arse.
"Streuth Bethany, you really are one hot kisser. I do so love you Bethany."
We kissed briefly once more. But then we both stopped. We looked at each other. Not smiling. We had both realised exactly what Andrew had just said. Suddenly he looked very embarrassed, very hesitant.
"Oh my gosh. What did I say? I mean, I'm not really sure what I mean. Oh dear. I don't mean... "
"No, Bethany. Wait."
Andrew just stood there, suddenly looking serious, thinking about what he was going to say.
"Bethany, I mean – look. I mean, we have a relationship, don't we? What kind I don't really know. I don't know if it's really 'love', but it's something like that in a way I think. But - look. I want you to have this. I was going to give it to you last night but we were both so horny I never got the chance. Please accept it. I don't know what it really means but it sure does mean something."
I looked. He had taken a small box from his jacket pocket and flipped it open with his thumb. I gasped. Really. I just hadn't been expecting - a ring!
I was amazed. I really didn't know what to think. Flattered obviously, what girl wouldn't be? And uncertain. And confused.
But Andrew took over. He held my left hand gently and slid the ring steadily onto the third finger. I stared down, it looked so good, so right. I reached up behind my lover's head and pulled it towards me, enjoying quite possibly the longest and most passionate kiss we had ever had. I realised at that moment that some new phase in our relationship was about to begin. Dressing and fucking once a month was fun – but not sustainable.
The kiss was hot and long and steamy and, despite what he had just said about having to rush off to work, Andrew obviously didn't want to hurry it. His hand slid down over my thighs and gripped me hard, moving then up over my stocking tops and towards my panties. My hands were not idle either. One was pulling his head towards me while our tongues danced, the other was grabbing his bum tight. I could feel his cock growing as it pressed against my nylon-covered thigh.
"Yes Andrew, yes!" I whispered as I felt his passion growing.
Sod it, in no way was I going to let this guy go to work right then. I knew what was coming.
But no. It wasn't. We both heard it. Just a slight noise but I recognised it. The front door had opened behind me. It couldn't be the wind, it was quite still that morning. Was it Pete? Had the milkman come back? I realised maybe I hadn't locked the door properly when I had brought the milk in. That could be so difficult, so embarrassing if it was Pete. I turned to look.
Then I froze. Surprised. And terrified. It wasn't Pete. It wasn't even Charlie or Helen, that would have been substantially less awkward, being caught like that in bra and panties. I'm sure either one of them would have understood.
I was stood there, caught 'in-flagante-nearly-delicto', wig, bling, make-up, black bra and panties, stockings and high heels – with my boyfriend. Boyfriend? Or ....?
I was aghast, I couldn't think what to say. Then I did say something, the only word appropriate at that moment.