The Invitation Ch. 07

The latest installment of the story of Jack and Sally and the strange turn that their relationship took when they were invited to a party. I hope you enjoy it.

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Jack stared at Mark, mouth agape and dumbstruck once again at this latest unexpected turn of events. Some small part of his brain observed that it had been quite a day for him being left speechless. In fact, speechless was fast becoming his default setting. So many questions chased each other through his mind. What was Mark doing there? How long had he been in the room? Why hadn't he said anything when he saw that Jack was eating out his girlfriend? Oh God - Mark had seen him dressed like this; worse, he had seen Sally fucking him with the strap on. Mark had seen the lingerie. He had seen Jack's erect cock. And he had seen Jack ejaculate on himself. And to make it worse, in Mark's hand was a video camera pointed directly at jack and with the red LED on the front glowing brightly. The whole thing was definitely on tape.

Lucy's voice interrupted Jack torrent of conflicting thoughts. "Stand up, darling," he heard her say.

As Jack watched from his prone position on the couch, Mark rose from his kneeling position behind Sally, whose near naked body had been concealing him. As he emerged Jack saw for the first time saw what his friend was wearing; rather than the jeans and t-shirt which was his usual outfit, Mark was wearing what could only be described as a babydoll nightdress in dark almost maroon red with matching bikini style knickers. Both garments were made of what looked to be the finest silk and trimmed with black lace at the edges. Mark's hair, longer than average like Jack's own, had been styled into a sort of feminine pixie style and he was clearly wearing eye shadow, blusher, lipstick and mascara. In his red silk knickers Jack could clearly make out the outline of Mark's cock and it was obvious that he had what could only be described as a chub on! There was also a little spot of dampness staining the dark red silk of the knickers near where the tip of Mark's cock nestled within the confines of the silk, mute testament to Mark's excitement.

Jack's initial reaction was, bizarrely when he came to remember it later, one of relief. It wasn't so bad; Mark was dressing up too – he wasn't the only one. But this was quickly replaced by confusion and a further deluge of questions. Why was Mark now standing there so quietly in his silk outfit, not saying a word and just looking down at the floor. What was up with him? Had Lucy drugged him or something?

"Look, mate I can explain," Jack began. "They insisted that I do that and I'm really sorry that you had to see it, but I didn't have a lot of choice. You see..."

Lucy cut him off. "Oh, don't worry," she said. "Mark doesn't mind at all, do you sweetheart?"

"No. I don't mind at all mate," Mark replied in a quiet and almost timid voice, shifting on his feet and allowing the baby doll to swirl a little against his silk clad hips. He still hadn't made eye contact with Jack. This was not the Mark that Jack was used to.

"What's up with you?" Jack asked his friend.

To Jack's surprise, given that Mark was never short of something to say, Lucy answered for him. "It turns out that Mark has two very different personalities. In one he is the strong red blooded male, always quick with the funny comment and the life of the party, but once he puts on women's clothes he changes completely. He gets all quiet and feminine, just like this. Don't you darling?"

"Yes, sweetheart. I do," replied Mark, looking up at Lucy and smiling at her.

"It was quite a shock when the two of us found this out, I can tell you, but now we wouldn't change it for the world! Look, let's all sit down and then we can explain. OK?"

In something of a daze Jack sat up on the sofa on which so recently he had lost his anal virginity to one of the girls in front of him, whilst eating the cum of the guy in front of him from the pussy of the other girl. That the guy was dressed as a girl only served to confuse the situation yet further. Equally, Jack was conscious of his own ensemble – he was sitting there in a well filled black bra with matching suspender belt and rounded off with black stockings. He was also conscious of the sensation of his rapidly cooling cum running down his stomach and stopping as it reached the barrier that was his suspender belt. As he struggled himself into a sitting position on the couch Sally stooped over and scooped his knickers from the floor. She swiftly put them back on his and pulled them up so that his wilted cock and his balls were once more encased in the sheer lace trimmed material. His genitals remained entirely visible through the sheer garment and almost made him appear more undressed than he would have had he not been wearing them. Then she sat down next to him, the big red fake penis – so recently removed from Jack's arse and still slick with lubricant – jutting obscenely from her crotch. She took his hand and squeezed it gently, smiling at him. Lucy and Mark each took a chair across the room, Lucy still in her dress but without, Mark knew well, any knickers and Mark in the maroon silk babydoll and matching lace trimmed knickers.

Lucy went on. "You see it started when I came home from an early morning hockey practice. We used to have this totally fascist coach who thought that it was character forming to have practice at 7 am on a Saturday in the middle of winter. Happily the cow has now been fired or got a job somewhere else or died or something, but anyway she's gone and the new coach hates getting up early on Saturdays. But that's not the point.

"When I went for these early morning hockey sessions I would leave Mark tucked up in bed all nice and cosy and then I would come back after practice and jump back in with him. In fact, I would just plain jump him," she giggled. "But then this one Saturday practice was shorter than usual because there was a burst water main near the sports ground and they wanted us out of there because they needed to isolate the water, so no showers. So instead of coming home at 10, I was home before 9. I thought I would surprise lover boy here, and maybe put his big and very reliable early morning wood to good use, so I opened the door very quietly, pushed off my trainers in the hall and snuck up the stairs. My cunning plan was to climb in beside him. In fact, I had been thinking about it all the way home and was pretty horny and I was so wet I that I was beginning to leak into my knickers, so maybe I was just going to lower myself onto him!" she laughed, smiling at Mark who was sitting quite unselfconsciously in the next chair listening to his girlfriend. She reached out her hand and stroked his knee. Jack noticed for the first time that Mark's legs were hairless.

"So it was a bit of a shock when I got into the bedroom to discover that he was still asleep in bed alright, but that he was wearing one of my camisoles and a matching pair of French knickers. You see, he was sound asleep, but had kicked most of the duvet off so was displaying his charms and my underwear! Not only that but there was the pair of knickers that I had worn the previous day beside him on the pillow. I think I said something like 'oh my God' and he woke up. It was really funny when I think about it. He smiled at me, really sleepily, and said 'hi honey' and then he must have remembered what he was wearing and pulled the duvet up to cover himself. Poor lad look absolutely mortified," Lucy added, smiling across at Mark.

"He started to take the camisole off but I stopped him and said that we needed to chat about it. To be honest I really didn't know what to think. I mean, I had heard about men dressing up as women and to be honest it didn't really phase me at all, and I had heard of girls whose brothers or something would put their knickers on or borrow them out of the laundry basket and play with themselves in them – which I guess grossed me out – but I had never come across it in person, if you follow me.

"At first I couldn't coax anything out of him, but gradually he gave in and started to talk. Probably when it became clear I was going to keep him there dressed in my underwear until he did! Seems he had been borrowing my underwear every Saturday morning since we moved in together – quite the regular event! He said that he couldn't understand why he was driven to do it, but that he would pick something out and, as soon as I had left for practice, he would jump out of bed, lose the boxer shorts and t-shirt and slip into something of mine. Sometimes it was the sexy stuff, but as often as not it was just the plain old cotton knickers and tops or something. Then he would set the alarm for half an hour before I got back and go back to sleep. When the alarm went off he would take off what he had been wearing and put it away, pop the boxers and t-shirt back on and wait for me to come home. The knickers on the pillow were so that he could be reminded of me by the scent. Isn't that just lovely?" she said, looking lovingly at Mark and squeezing his knee again.

"To be honest he then started to cry, didn't you honey?" Jack saw Mark, whose eyes were still downcast, nod a little. "You see, he thought that this little revelation would cause me to chuck him, and obviously he didn't want that. Well, that started me off and in a couple of seconds we were both on the bed crying, me in my training gear and him in a camisole and matching French knickers. We must have looked really odd!"

"Anyway, we sat down and began to talk. Mark had a lot to own up to, as it turned out!" she laughed, smiling fondly at her lingerie clad boyfriend, her hand still absently stroking his leg.

"He told me that he had been dressing in girls' clothes since he was a little boy – there was nothing sexual about it, he just liked the clothes. He would sneak items of his sister's clothes, or his cousin. They were always dresses or skirts, sometimes school uniform or something like that. You like school uniforms too, don't you Jack?" she said, looking at him. Jack shifted uncomfortably, his face reddening, knowing that Lucy was referring to the video taken that afternoon of him dressed as a schoolgirl and masturbating and then cuming into a pair of Sally's knickers.

"He had a fondness for tights as well, didn't you love? And girls' swimsuits. But his main fixation was underwear. Like I say, there was nothing sexual about it, he just liked the feeling and the look of the whole getup. Anyway, this little habit went on for many years, and no-one ever found out."

"By now the poor love was in such a state that he was crying and begging me not to leave him, as if I ever would, and I was crying because he was crying! What a sight we must have been. Anyway, he says something like 'no, but there's more to tell.' I was a bit taken aback by this - I mean to say how much more could there possibly be? I had just caught him in my underwear and he had confessed to dressing in his sister's clothes when he was a kid! So he dropped what he thought was the big bombshell.

He says 'You might as well know everything. I'm bisexual.' I asked him what he meant which, when I think about it was a pretty stupid question. He said 'I like guys too. Sexually I mean.' Well, that was another turn up. Seems that he was playing both teams and he thought that this, plus the wearing my clothes, would definately be enough to get him kicked out onto the street. I asked him for details and he told me about how it started with fooling around with a couple of friends when they were kids, but since being at college he had the freedom to explore and he had slept with a couple of guys and also sucked a few dicks along the way. Before he met me, oc course!" she smiled.

Lucy leaned forward from her armchair and stroked Mark's face gently as she went on.

"Now I'm not saying that I wasn't surprised. I mean, I never would have guessed that my big strapping boy who couldn't keep his hands off me also liked a bit of cock. But then I guess you can't tell just by looking. He also insisted, and at some length, that since we had been together he hadn't strayed even once. So I kissed him and we lay down again and cuddled. It was a little odd cuddling him in the camisole, but it was actually quite arousing! Poor lad was still convinced that I was going to bin him but nothing could have been further from the truth, and so I guessed it was time for a little confession of my own. I told him that I didn't mind and that I was bisexual too. It wasn't a big secret and to be honest I'm kind of surprised that it had never come up before. But there it was – I had fooled around quite a lot with other girls, and there were still a couple of 'friends with benefits'." She laughed. "Mainly Sally of course, but there had been a couple of others at school and then at college. I mean, it's not like I was some sort of tart who snogged anyone who asked nicely, but I wasn't exactly a nun either!"

Sally giggled. "No, you certainly weren't!" she exclaimed. Jack wondered just how long Sally and Lucy had been getting it on and, seeing as how it was clear that they still were, just how often it was happening.

"Anyway," Lucy went on, "we decided that we would explore this new side of Mark and to cut a very long story short, we found something which was seriously surprising. It turned out that when I dressed him as a girl – not just a pair of knickers under his jeans, but with something on top too like a camisole or a bra, or even the whole hog with a dress or a skirt, he changed. He became really quiet and submissive and feminine. It was quite a shock, I can tell you. Completely out of character. That's not to suggest that he was any less of a man – that first night that I found him after we got past all the tears and the confessions we ended up having rally fantastic sex for half the night. In fact, the poor love shagged me so hard that I was sore for a week!"

"And so we went on," Lucy said. "Outwardly, we were just any normal couple at college, but every now and again at home we would both dress up in some lovely soft lingerie and fuck like bunnies! It was while we were doing this that we decided to see where the whole submissive thing would lead."

"We had started off with just lingerie, but we bought him some other stuff – stockings and skirts and dresses and he really liked that." Lucy smiled at Mark again. "And I'm not trying to pretend that I didn't absolutely love it too! After a while we explored some other things, and we decided to try anal sex. I mean, anal sex for Mark – he was already fucking me in the bum regularly!" she laughed.

"We went out and bought that little rascal," she said, nodding towards the scarlet strap on dildo protruding obscenely from Sally's crotch. "He loved it, but only when he was dressed. We added it to our secret life and no-one would ever have known, until one day when Sally came to see me in floods of tears."

Jack didn't follow. What on earth had any of this to do with Sally? "Why?" he asked.

"Do you want to tell him?" Lucy asked Sally.

"Sure," she replied. "It was just because I had fallen completely head over heels in love with you and I was the happiest girl alive, and then I found this." And with that she rose from her seat at his side on the couch and walked over to the bookcase next to the TV. The rubber phallus waved wildly in the air as she walked, so she reached down to her sides, released its buckles and let it fall to the floor. Jack was amazed that she was quite happy to expose herself like this in front of Mark and Lucy. Her slim lithe body was clad only in a black suspender belt and lace top stockings and her shaved pubis was laid bare for all to see and yet she seemed totally unselfconscious. Jack could see Mark surreptitiously appraising her slim firm body. Sneaking a look at her bare pubis himself as she bent over to retrieve something from the bookcase, Jack could clearly see the glistening of her wetness on her pinkened labia. When Sally turned back she held in her hand a yellow exercise book, well thumbed.

Immediately Jack knew exactly what it was – it was his greatest and darkest secret. In the pages of the exercise book that his girlfriend was holding in her was an account of Jack's deepest sexual feelings and fantasies – things that he had never breathed a word of to another soul, nor ever would. Except now Sally had read them. And it had upset her. And understandably so, because what Jack had written in the book was not the things that a normal young man would write.

The book had been given to him by a fellow student who was studying psychology and, as a part of a first year project, had been obliged to ask 20 of his friends to complete a journal detailing sexual thoughts – when, where, the context and what. Mark had agreed to take part – the results were, after all, supposed to be anonymous – and for a few days he had played the game. Then, one night after he came back from the Students' Union bar, he had taken up his pen and poured out the dark thoughts that, at all other times, he worked very hard to suppress.

His secret was this. Since he was quite young, Jack had been fascinated by – in fact almost obsessed with – girls' clothes. Specifically, he was in love with their softness, their femininity and their variety. And not just underwear. Even as a boy Jack had realised that girls had much nicer clothes to wear, a much greater range and that everything was so much softer than the thicker, more robust and utilitarian clothes – including underwear – that the male half of the population had to make do with. It just wasn't fair!

These feelings of injustice stayed with Jack throughout his formative years and he had never acted upon them, other than to admire and silently envy the girls that he knew for the clothes that they could wear. And then fate presented him with an opportunity. As a teenager, Jack had lived next door to a family with two daughters; one his age and one a couple of years older. The girls were part time boarders away at a school in the next town and were generally away three or sometimes four nights a week. Their father worked in London and was home only at the weekend, and their mother worked strange hours that generally had her away from about lunchtime until 8 or 9pm. Jack was employed to go in after school and look after their pets, who would otherwise go unloved until when the mother came home. He quickly realised that this would allow him unsupervised access to the girls' clothes, and so it turned out. Two or three days a week Jack would go to their house, take care of the pets and then go into one or other of the sisters' rooms and look through their clothes, touching the soft fabrics, inhaling their scents and marvelling at their variety. For a long time that was as far as it went. Just looking and touching, nothing more.

Until one day that all changed. It had happened one day when he had gone into the elder sister's room one mid week afternoon. By then Clare was around 20 and so was away at college, but she was living in Halls with limited storage space and so had left most of her clothes behind. Jack had gone into her room as usual and opened the doors to the closet. As was normal, he had run his hands across the clothes, touching the soft fabrics and wondering at their beauty. Every so often he would take something out of the closet to examine it, taking care to ensure that it went back in the right place.

Jack ran his hands across her dresses and skirts, the blouses and pullovers and even her old school uniform which, for some reason, she still had hanging in the closet even though she had left school a couple of years previously. This was, at least for Jack, all quite normal by this stage and was something which by now he had enjoyed doing for many years. But this time it simply didn't seem to satisfy him. Something was missing. He needed something else. There was a hunger within him that he just had to feed. At that moment he glanced away from the closet and his eyes fell on the small chest of drawers at the other side of the room. He swallowed. He knew what was in there. In the bottom drawer she kept some note books and papers and old diaries. He had never really explored that drawer. In the next drawer up she kept her socks and tights. Above that was the drawer containing her bras. But it was the top drawer on which his eyes came to rest. That was where Clare kept her knickers.