tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersA Fishing Trip, But I'm The Bait Ch. 07

A Fishing Trip, But I'm The Bait Ch. 07


If you have read the previous chapters, which I recommend, then you will know that Jane's decision has been made and all that remains is for her to push aside her former life as John. She stands at a crossroads in her life with university looming in a different town and everything must change.

"Mum, it's about me being a boy." I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

"Oh!" said Mum. I scanned her face and her eyes were darting back and forth: her mind reeling from what I has just said. The silence was only broken my Laura putting down a mug of tea in front of her, the noise unnaturally loud.

"Laura? Have you put him up to this? I know what your like!" she finally said angrily, turning to my sister, who spluttered with indignation.

"No, she didn't. Laura has been really supportive these last few days, but Mum, you know this goes way back," I interrupted, reaching out to touch my mother's hand.

"Just a minute here....Look. We are talking about the same thing here are we?" Mum said looking from one to another.

"You've already made that conclusion and not from thin air. You know how John has been, ever since he was little. You even spoke to Steph and I about it, if you remember?" Laura said stepping over and putting her arm round my poor mother, who fumbled in the cuff of her cardigan and fished out a handkerchief.

"Oh, Mum. I'm sorry – don't be upset," I said feeling altogether guilty for reeking this havoc.

"Laura. Could you leave us? John and I have to talk," Mum replied decisively. Laura gave her a kiss on the head and gave me a look of encouragement before taking herself off to her room.

"Come on John. Let's see what food we have and you can help me put some supper together", continued Mum, rising from her chair and holding out her hand to me. That was typical of my mother: it was the way she always dealt with stressful things in the family. She would just make herself busy whilst the storm blew through and I suppose it gave her time to think things over in a familiar context. So we busied ourselves in the kitchen and never were potatoes so carefully peeled and carrots so beautifully Julienned. Once the pots were on the hob we started to talk and talk. Our conversation was sprinkled with family anecdotes, with stories of happier days, when we lived as a happy family with just simple problems to solve.

It was after laughing at one of those old family stories that she had paused and, leaning against the counter, she turned to me.

"You quite serious about this, sweetheart? No doubts?"

"I am serious, Mum, but I'd be lying to say I didn't have doubts. I know all the sensible reasons why I shouldn't. I'm frightened of it but I keep coming back to same thing: that it just feels right to me. I feel that for the first time in my life I am in the right place, like I've been walking half-blind but suddenly I can see clearly."

I looked at Mum to see her eyes, wet with tears, her arms folded, her hand at her mouth. She nodded, unable to speak for a moment.

"I'm sorry I'm not going to be that young man about the house you always wanted," I continued, looking down at my feet.

"Oh shush!" she said and stepped up to wrap me in her arms. Now it was my turn to cry and I tucked my head against her neck and sobbed. "Shush child. Shush," she said, just as she'd always down when I was a child.

"That was just a hopeful wish from a proud mother. I'm still proud of you – you do know that don't you? We'll see this through, you and me. If only I'd known how that expression had stung you! I'm so proud of you three, not for what you are or what job you do, but who you are as human beings. No matter what you might think I do trust you, John. I know you wouldn't have taken this decision lightly and it must have been brewing away in the background all your life. But you need to give yourself a little time. When you step through the doorway of a difficult decision it can feel a great relief but then you find yourself on the other side and your perspective has changed too. Will you promise to do that for me? Give yourself time?"

I nodded my head against her neck and drew up straight.

"Hanky or Air-Sea Rescue?" she smiled and offered me hers. "Oh-ho! Your make up has run!"

"That's OK, Mum. I'll grab a tissue." I forced myself to smile back to her.

"Come here," she said and wiped the smudges away from beneath my eyes. "I expect we both look a complete mess. Ask Laura to come down a put the food out, whilst I go and freshen up."

Over dinner we chatted about family as Mum wanted to tell us all about her visit to our aunt. Once the plates were cleared she asked Laura to make some coffee. "Coffee please, Laura and keep it coming! We've got a mountain of planning to do between us!"

We drew up a list of objectives and actions and soon my transformation was beginning to sound like a military campaign. There was so much to consider: I had to phone my contact tutor at the University; I had to visit our local doctor and we giggled ourselves through a planned shopping trip, with Laura acting as head stylist and fashion advisor. It was well past midnight before we all went to bed.

The next day I began by tracking down my tutor who insisted I had to provide a medical statement from my GP, my GP insisted I was referred for a list of interviews: it was all bewildering and stressful. Over the course of the following days it felt as though my privacy had been torn away and suddenly I had become the object of seemingly random professional scrutiny. I got tired of hearing myself explain the same things over and over.

The University finally agreed that I could move into a mixed hall of residence on the girl's floors but the medical people had to wait until their various tests and assessments were complete before I could start any treatment other than estrogen. My sister, Laura was a pillar of strength but soon had a new nickname for me: Lab Rat.

I desperately wanted to see Paul again: we'd spoken every day on the phone but Mum was against the idea and for the time being, I had to go along with her and there seem to be no opportunity to sneak away. I felt embarrassed to be accompanied by my mother to my appointments but she was adamant that she wanted to be part of it and I was grateful to have some company.

On my last weekend before I left I had managed to persuade Mum to let me meet up with Paul, though it had taken a tantrum to do it! I'd pushed to spend the weekend with him but she was adamant.

"Don't think of me as prudish, Jane. It's just the idea makes me uncomfortable. I'll come round in the end I'm sure, but give me a little time to get used to it. I'm sure he's a very nice man, but no – you can go out for the evening but I want you back here by midnight!"

I knew her well enough not to push me luck any further. Laura had told me she had found her looking through the family photo album on her own, with tears streaming down her face, so I knew how hard she was finding things too. More than anything else I needed her support.

I phoned Paul and although I could tell he was a little disappointed he said, "I think it's important to keep your mother on your side, Jane. Well, we'll have to make it a very special evening. I'll pick you up at seven and wear something smart: we're going out to dinner."

That got me in a fluster, because although I'd been out in public as Jane several times it had just been for appointments. Being under the critical eye of other women in a restaurant would be my first real test of the coaching Laura and Mum had given me.

I didn't have a huge wardrobe of clothes but I tried on pretty much everything in every combination, before deciding on a Cavalli style flower print dress pinched with a thin belt: the weather was still warm enough for something summery. Underneath I had a bra with my new forms and a specialist thong that kept everything in place: my little cock was scrunched up so tight there was no chance of embarrassment! I was practising pushing my balls back up inside me and that helped to keep my shape looking perfect. I would wear tan hold-ups with white strappy sandals that had just a little heel. Laura insisted that I do my own make up and simply sat in with me to chat as I got ready.

"How am I doing for time Lolly?" I said as I sat back from applying my lipstick. Laura had got up and was looking out the window as I spoke.

"You're done, honey and your carriage awaits," she smiled back at me.

"Oh my God, oh my God," I shrieked. "He's here? Oh shit, I mean ... good, yes fine. I'm calm. I am in control and 'Oi is a lai-die, innoi?' "

"Oi Jay-nie. Uz lewk a flippin million dollars sa gerrout der an av some proper fan!" Laura mimicked back.

"How do I look," I said seriously, standing to brush the lines of my dress.

"Give me a hug, Sis," she replied, stepping forward to take my hands in hers. With a giggle we hugged as carefully as possible to avoid touching faces.

Paul had suggested he wait in the car for me rather than risk upsetting Mum but I couldn't wait to see him and raced downstairs.

"Bye Mum!" I called out from the hall.

"Wait just a minute, Jane. Let me see you," she called out from the next room and then poked her head round the door. "Aw, you look gorgeous, dear. I hope he knows how lucky he is. Now you remem – "

"I know, I know," I interrupted. "I'll be back by midnight and I think he does know. I wish you'd meet him...perhaps another time eh?"

"Perhaps," Mum replied quietly."Now go on and have a lovely time."

I took a deep breath to calm my butterflies and walked down the drive. Paul got out of the car as I approached and gave me a very polite kiss on the cheek, before walking me round to the passenger door, which he opened for me. He was looking very dashing in shirt and tie with very sexy brogues below his plain trousers.

In the car he turned to me with a smile.

"Thank you, Jane. I feel ten feet tall: you look gorgeous. I've got something for you: a little something by way of celebration. Here." Paul held his hand to me with his fingers closed over something. "Go on."

I took a small clasp box from his hand and on opening it, I found two diamond studs inside.

"Oh, Paul! You shouldn't have." I cooed. "Can I try them on?"

"Of course, of course. That's why I've given them to you now. There's a little note in the box, but read that later."

I quickly swapped my plain sleepers with these new ones.

"I've got proper bling! Let me see," I gushed, twisting the drivers mirror to examine them. "Oh, thank you so much Paul. You know these are always going to mean so much to me. Oh no, I'm welling up. No, no! Can't do that with make up on!"

I fanned my face with my hands so that Paul laughed.

"Come on – lets go!" he said and starting the engine, off we went.

The restaurant was originally a country house, set on the outskirts of a small village and as the gravel crunched under the wheels, my nerves rose again. Paul sensed it and smoothed my legs with the palm of his hand once we had pulled up.

"Jane," he said, turning to me. "This is going to be a really special evening: just you and me. It doesn't matter about who else is there or what happens – it's our evening. So be yourself and enjoy it."

"I know, Paul. At some point I have to lose these fears but with you I feel so feminine... and happy. Come on then," I said softly and leaned in to kiss him simply on the lips.

We were met at the door by a waiter, who acted perfectly normally and led inside to a lounge full of guests, who also acted perfectly normally. Once we were seated the wine waiter came over, handed the menu to Paul – and he acted normally too! To even the closest scrutiny we were what we were: a couple enjoying a meal out, probably on their first date together and though some might have thought Paul was quite a bit older, that could hardly be thought as unusual.

Paul brought me up to date with his news but was far more interested in my plans and certainly much had happened since I had last seen him. I had to whisper much of the detail and we must have made quite a picture as I leaned toward him for most of the meal. He gave me lots of advice on university: putting me wise to some of the things to avoid in 'freshers' week, though when he had gone to college he was just a gay guy. Pretty soon we found ourselves taking coffee back in the lounge and needed the loo. There was nothing for it but I waited till I thought the ladies would be empty before stepping across the carpeted hall. Just as I reached the door a woman in her forties followed me in and I found myself in a complete dither. She gave me a warm smile and we took adjoining cubicles. When she spoke I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Having a nice evening?" the voice enquired with an aristocratic accent. I knew I couldn't hesitate so I just made a compliment about the food. I was a bit freaked out by this as I wasn't sure if toilet chat was normal practise, but we chatted through the wall until I heard her get up to leave. As I stepped outside, brushing my dress straight the chatty woman was standing checking her make up at the mirror. Although I just wanted to run out in a panic I thought I ought to check my own. When she finally left with a cheery comment, I slumped forward over the counter and heaved a huge sigh of relief, just as another lady walked in.

"Are you alright?" the new woman enquired and I straightened up with a blush.

"Fine, yes thank you. Just feeling a little.... y'know," I replied pulling a face of imaginary discomfort.

"Oh how rotten," she said as she stepped away. I made my exit in dignified haste and had to fight the instinct to run back to Paul. "Can we go, Paul? I'm feeling really nervous."

"What's the matter?" he asked with concern.

"Nothing. Oh, it's nothing really. I'm just being silly... but could we?" I was conscious that I must be blushing scarlet in the way that only blonds can do. Paul patted my arm and went up to settle up the bill, whilst I busied myself in my handbag.

When we emerged from the hallway into the darkening evening air I began to giggle and leaned on Paul's arm as he looked at me trying to figure out what was going on.

"Oh Paul – I've so much to learn! I feel like a spy or one of those prisoners of war, trying to make their way out of occupied territory. Maybe if I had spoken German in the loos I might have got on better!"

"Do you speak German?" Paul said, slightly bemused.

"No. But I could do a good accent."

"Best stay off the German then: you could get caught out that way too! Honestly, Jane, no one batted an eyelid and I was watching. Neither of those ladies ran screaming or hit the fire alarm. They just went back to their seats and carried on normally. Really, I would have noticed," said Paul, putting his arm round my waist. He let my giggles wear themselves out and we strolled until we reached the edge of the lawns, where a shallow river gurgled over a bed of pebbles. We stood a few moments taking in the quiet of the night until a pair of ducks squabbled angrily from the dark.

"Oh, dear, sounds like a lovers tiff to me," Paul smiled.

"Drakes always gang up on ducks – they can be real bullies," I said.

"They could be fighting over food: perhaps one of them caught a fish," said Paul.

"Fancy a spot of fishing?" I said turning with a smile to him.

"Ha! I don't suppose a licence here would be cheap: this'll be an expensive trout stream," he replied.

We stood hand in hand for a while as I thought over the events of the evening, until the incident in the rest room made me giggle again.

"You can always find something to laugh about, can't you? What are you thinking about now?" said Paul pulling me close to him. I leaned into his body, resting my head on his shoulder, grateful for the warmth of his body, for it was becoming chilly. I looked up at his face, dark and silhouetted against the lights from the building. We kissed: little exploring kisses that question and answer. I could feel him stiff against my tummy and felt content: happy and content. Perhaps it was the wine, but as I put my head to his chest, so full of warm and comforting scent, it seemed the world spun around us, with Paul the rock, my rock, at its centre. I suppose I must have shivered because Paul put his coat round my shoulders and slowly steered me back to the car through the glistening wet grass.

"Home?" Paul said as he started the engine. It suddenly occurred to me that the evening was all but done and I could only bite my lip and nod at my lap in silence. I didn't pay any attention to where we were going and spent much of my time blinking hard out of the window. I only vaguely became aware of the car slowing down and then pulling to a halt.

"Where are we?" I asked in the sudden darkness.

"Somewhere quiet," whispered Paul, his voice close to my ear as his arm reached around my shoulder. I turned to feel his lips urgently pressing against mine and I shifted awkwardly to face him. I gave a soft moan has I felt the weight of his warm hand on my thigh. I ran my hand down his neck and let it rest on his chest as his tongue explored every part of my mouth. It was so quiet here I was aware of every sound: of his tongue's little clucking noises in my mouth, of the rustle of his shirt, the rasp of his hand on my stockings and of his breath, rising in urgency as we embraced.

His hand took mine and guided it to his crotch where his hard cock reached to his waistband.

"Do you want me, Paul?" I breathed into his ear as I kissed his neck. His hand had parted my thighs and were pawing at my skin. He nodded in reply.

"Come on then. Let's get out of the car: there's no room here," I suggested and we raced to get out. A breeze now filled the empty night and the leaves rattled high above us. Paul leant back against the bonnet and we kissed again, his leg rising between my mine as I ran my hand over his stiff member, still trapped in his trousers. I fumbled with the zipper but soon his hot hard cock was beating in my hand, its head touching my wrist. Paul flung his head back with a gasp as I began to drag my fingertips up and down its length.

He laid his hands on my shoulders and with gentle downward pressure told me what he needed.

Mindful of my dress I squatted in front of him, legs open so that the cool evening air kissed my skin. I unbuckled his belt to release his bobbing cock – nothing worse than pubic hair caught in a zip! I had to steady myself with one hand and took his shiney meat to my lips.

"Hmm – I could eat you," I purred.

"Then do... but, err ... no teeth please," he replied with his hand in my hair. I took a grip on his shaft with my teeth and growled at him, then took mercy by sweeping its salty tip across my lips. I darted my tongue out and with little flicks I moved my mouth further and further over his acrid-tasting head. I ran my tongue round the underside, relishing its sour taste and breathed in the sweaty scent of my man. He nudged his head deeper into my mouth whilst I ran my fingers under his balls, weighing their fullness before stroking further back.

Paul gripped the sides of my head, my new earrings pricked my skin, their sparkles now shrouded by night. His fingers ran through my hair, I nuzzled my cheek against his wrist but stayed busy with my tongue, licking, rasping his so-smooth head with my wetness. I wanted to swallow it down, to bite it and keep it forever in my belly but with closed eyes, drank in every sensation of taste, smell, texture. The thinness of his skin under my hand, the bulging foreign bulb promising to burst with sap.

He pulled my head away, leaving me to gasp with frustration.

"I have to fuck you," he growled at me.

"To fuck my cunt?" I replied.

"To fuck your cunt and fill it with my seed."

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