A Sister 'til Christmas

She took pictures, she made me pose, show my legs and chest. She made me finally show what it looked like under my dress, I slowly lifted it up as her fingers reached out, as she started to rub, as a big smile landed on her face. Then the front doorbell rang. I looked at her nervously and ran into the kitchen.

She called, she giggled, "Chicken!" I heard the door open. "Sabrina, you have a visitor."

*

For the next ten days, I had company. For the next ten days, I received another white rose. Every day around seven the bell would ring, my juices would start flowing then Sara would send this tall man in to see me, compliment me, and smile. She had this sneaky smirk on her face the entire time, she knew I was enjoying the attention, she knew it made me frisky, she didn't know I imagined him staying and making love to me. She figured she was teasing, making fun of my overly feminine mind and actions. She figured that she finally found the perfect present for her anxious, cross-dressing husband. First breasts, then a vagina, and now a man.

She spent her days shopping, visiting the towns nearby, sometimes she didn't get home until dinner time. I spent them dressed like I was going to a party, going to a wedding, going on a cruise. I was having so much fun, doing my makeup and taking pictures while I talked on the phone, cleaned the house, while I cooked dinner. I was taking even more pictures while I made her favorite coffee drinks, made her favorite apertifs while wiggling my longer-than-usual nails above them. I was just waiting for her to come home so she could shake her head and finger at me, she would tell me where she went, then show me what she bought.

"Like?"

"Love it."

"And this?"

"Love it lots," I would giggle.

Tonight I was standing in the living room, I was wearing the new brown and tan dress that Sara had found for me. It had spaghetti straps, full around the hips and very short showing off my legs, my thighs. I was wearing all the outfits that showed too much boobage, too much skin. I was 5'8" around a hundred and forty pounds, I was lean, with slightly thicker legs, I could easily look female in my dresses, I could easily feel female with a man handing me a rose. I had on my longer wig, blonde, wavy, landing right below the new breasts. I even had a little collar covering the seam of the forms, no one would know. I had on longer lashes, dark shadow and lips. I spent so long on my makeup, my nails, I wanted to be perfect for a visit from a tall good looking stranger, and I was.

It took longer for him to leave tonight, to walk backward watching me and ignoring Sara. He stood, he stared, he smiled. Then Sara touched his shoulder and showed him the door.

What started as motivation, turned into validation. I was having too much fun again, like when I was younger and out as a girl in the world. I was bouncing on my heels, wiggling my bottom. Sara noticed she was shaking her head. "So how are you enjoying your presents?" She was watching my real shoulders, my fake chest, her hands on her hips.

I had the rose to my lips, my eyes closed, I was enjoying December as a 'female'. "Mmm, very, very much."

And she laughed, she sat back down on the couch, she was ready to watch her movie, she wanted to drink more expresso, but I wanted to go into my room and investigate the new vagina, my old 'clit' and the new metallic smell of a person coming in from the cold. I needed to cum. I felt I was trying to get hard, but something was squished in the flesh panties.

"Don't you want to know his name? Don't you want to know why a man keeps visiting you?"

I opened my eyes. My eyebrows raised. Did I?

"A man comes to visit you every day, over ten days in a row and you ask no questions at all. Aren't you even a little bit curious?"

"Um, I don't know."

"Really? We are in the middle of nowhere, and we have the only male visitor EVER coming to this house, and you don't want to know who he is?"

I looked at her, she inched up, she was at the edge of the couch. She was waiting for an answer, she looked like she was a little annoyed. I didn't want her annoyed, I didn't want to say anything, I realized I wanted him to be a fantasy, not a real man. A real man would make me even more nervous. I was finally over being shy and difficult.

All I wanted to do was put the rose in water, I had a vase right next to my bed, I imagined I invited him in to see the collection he had given me. Then I would close my eyes again and imagine, I only needed a few minutes, I only needed to drift into a different life for a little while and then I will watch her movie and brew her more coffee. I will do whatever she wants and become her best compliable sister again.

"Well?" She was waiting.

I apologetically excused myself, I disappeared for just a little while. Tonight was quick. I played with my hair, I kissed my reflection, I fiddled in my panties. When I came back to the couch, she seemed tired of my overly feminine mannerisms. My eyes were wide, I was flushed, I had that mysterious smile on my face as I refilled her drink, as I crossed my nylon legs.

She didn't talk to me the rest of the night.

*

'Listen to me baby

Listen to my plea

I'm in the middle of nowhere

And it's worrying me'

The next day was when the visits ended. For the cold lonely week after that, I waited for the bell to ring, I looked out the windows, playing with my hair, spying on my reflection. Sara knew what I was doing but she never said anything, she was ready to move on to something else, she wanted to go out to the town together, but I was ready to cry.

I was wishing I paid more attention, wishing I started to chat, held his hand, begged him to stay. I wanted to feel his jacket, smell his aftershave, rub his rough chin, but I didn't, I was too nervous, too shy. I let the silent tears fall down my cheeks but I wouldn't turn around and look at Sara, I wouldn't leave my reflection, I think my heart was broken.

I heard her get closer, felt her breath on my neck. "I'm goin' crazy we have to start going somewhere at night, c'mon don't you want to show off that dress, those heels? Don't you want to show off our boobs?"

I turned around, she was actually wearing a low-cut sweater, she was actually showing the tops of her small breasts. "I do, but um, you go, I'll stay home, I'll do the laundry tonight and you can visit Rachel again."

Rachel was a woman she met sometime over the summer in Historic, Smithville, four miles away from here. Sara was getting bored living in the middle of nowhere, but not me, I was still loving it, even though I was missing my mystery man. I would spend all morning exercising, organizing my new dresses, heels, makeup. I would get deliveries almost every other day. More outfits, brushes, nail polish remover. I finally had everything I needed, everything I wanted, life was almost perfect, and my room was finally a sixteen-year-old beauty queen's wet dream.

She let out a loud breath. "When you are Sam you are so easy, everything is about me, but as Sabrina, it is all about you. Shit, just come with me, I want to take you to Rachel's restaurant, I want to introduce you to everybody."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I'm ready to go out. I don't want to meet everybody."

"Ugh!" She was angry, the holidays weren't as much fun as she hoped. I felt I was becoming more like her, I was becoming introverted, I wanted to be alone. Now she was becoming more like me, well my other self. I was always looking for a loud party, a crowd, a new restaurant. I guess being surrounded by trees, in the middle of nowhere meant changes... for both of us.

She took the car keys, she slammed the front door, she was gone and I was back in my room, drinking something to keep me warm. I wanted to try something new with my eyes, my lips. I wanted to order more nightgowns and slips, I wanted to enjoy my femme life until Christmas. I wanted to forget Sara was disappointed with me, again.

Once she got to Ruffino's she must have felt better, I was sent pictures; The front of the restaurant with the Christmas lights, the inside with decorations and her new friends. I also got shots of her pasta, their drinks, their desserts. Now I felt bad for not going out, but I didn't think I could, I would be too uncomfortable. I knew I would have loved to of shown off how feminine I had become, how perfect my dress and body were, but I wasn't ready. I knew she would tell everyone about me, she would make me anxious, she would tell everyone about my Double-D breasts. I'm sure she was telling everyone about them right now.

Ding Dong.

*

It had been five long days, five days without a man, a rose. Now he was here, he was holding a red one this time, he was smiling at me while I played with the hem of another thin brownish lace dress, as I looked down at his knees.

"I was hoping you were going to come to my restaurant tonight, I couldn't wait to see you." He handed me the rose.

I lifted it to my lips again, I loved the feel of it on my sticky gloss, I loved the scent making its way to my senses. "Thank you." I didn't have the confidence to ask any more questions.

"I was talking to Sara and Rachel, they suggested that we have an early dinner together before the restaurant opens. It will just be us."

I was feeling myself get nervous again, the excitement inside of me slipped away. "Sara and Rachel?"

He smiled. "You have a beautiful voice."

"Do I?"

"Ha, you do." He started walking around me, looking at me, my legs, my dress. He put his hand on my arm. "Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow? It will be nice and quiet, I can pick you up at three?"

"They really suggested it?"

"Kind of, they wanted to have Rachel's husband join us, the five of us, maybe six, but I thought it would be better with the just us two. You can get used to going out." He smiled, he watched me smile back. "It will be nice having dinner with a beautiful woman."

I froze. He was now going to pick me up at three, I was too excited to chat or show him my collection of roses.

When he left, I wished I felt his rough cheek.

***

'I'm going to wear black." I was leaving my room, Sara was futzing, cleaning, and putting up more reindeer decorations in the kitchen, she wasn't paying attention to me, she was paying attention to Rudolph.

"Yeah, so."

I walked out and showed her my outfit. It was a three-quarter-sleeved sweater dress, tight, very tight, and very short. The hem came halfway between my knees and my panties, I left the vagina ones in my drawer. I was wearing expensive nude pantyhose, I was sliding on the tiles.

"For lunch at Ruffino's."

She stopped cleaning, she looked at me, "Wait you're going out to Ruffino's? Today?"

"Yes today at three, the man with the roses came over last night and invited me, he said it was your's and Rachel's idea."

"Ross came by last night, why didn't you tell me?"

I was now feeling defensive, I felt like she was getting annoyed again. "I was sleeping when you got home, plus I thought you knew."

"We talked about it, but I didn't know it was happening today. He didn't say he was coming over to the house last night when he was leaving." She huffed, went back to her decorations, I went back into my room. I closed the door, I would try not to talk about it until Ross came to pick me up.

I was looking in the mirror, putting on my lashes, "Ross?" I now had a name, a strong name, a name for a man. I finished my eyes, my mascara, my rose-colored shadow. "Hi, Ross, nice to see you again." I was practicing as I brushed and darkened my eyebrows, outline, and filled in my lips. More rose, more color. "Thank you I got them on sale. 70% off. Practically stole them, ha." I said as I slipped on my heels, four-inch pumps, and shiny silver.

"I know you will like my new color."

After he left last night I painted my toes a dark pink, darker than my lips, I sat and got ready to do my fingernails. Painting my nails would relax me, it took me so long but it was so worth it. First I took off the old color with cotton pads and Q-tips. Slowly I took off the top of the bottle with the brush. I always started on my thumb and worked my way around. I had a UV LED nail lamp and I let them dry, I watched, I loved this. Sara said it was silly and unneeded, but I just loved it. I enjoyed the way my hands rested on the vanity, glowed from the purple light, made my small hands look so feminine. The lamp was something only a woman would own.

When I was younger, living with my parents, when I was in high school, I wanted to paint my nails when I dressed, my toes, my fingers. I needed to do everything. I needed to have full makeup on, jewelry, a dress, stockings, and heels. I so needed to paint my nails. At night I would put on one of my mothers' old nightgowns, I would get under the covers, I would take out the red, the purple, the orange, and paint. Twenty nails all colorful all night, it made me so happy. One morning I awoke to a puddle of red glitter, the sheets, the pillow cases even the wood frame was slathered in glitter polish. It was hard to explain, it was harder to tell anyone. I was punished, had to stay home while everyone went out to the park, the mall, the City, wherever, it didn't matter. My mother now knew I was up to something, had a secret, a quirk. Crossdressing became much more difficult.

Now I had my own room with my own UV LED lamp, my own facial cleansing device, life was easier, better than when I was young with my family. When we came to the house in November, my wife had Jada, this olive-skinned, beautiful Spanish woman come over, she owned a shop in town, she put long gel nails on us, waxed us, turned us into sexier women. I was so embarrassed, I barely spoke, but I was quite excited about it and the outcome. She brought me the lamp, she picked so many polish colors, she made sure I had everything I needed. Jada now stopped by every couple of days, always with something for me, something she says I would love, and I did. I would let her do what she wanted, whatever she thought I needed. I wasn't embarrassed anymore, I was thinking maybe going out to lunch and starting quietly would be a good introduction for me, good for my stress level, good for both me and Sara.

I put on my longer wig again, hiding my own long strawberry-blonde hair. I put on big silver clip-on hoops next to my pierced ears, another avenue of femininity from Jada. I put on my Black Opium perfume, I filled my black pocketbook with more lipstick, nail polish, mascara, even an extra pair of stockings. I waited by the mirror, I waited for the bell.

When we first got married, Sara didn't like when I fixed my makeup by myself, she wanted to help, she wanted to supervise. I then had to let her apply it, work on my lashes, it was easier, I couldn't argue with her. She figured she was a 'real' woman she would show me, show me her tricks, her shortcuts. She would introduce me to her products, her colors, even her perfume but I already had my own, I was used to being a 'woman.' I had been wearing female clothing since I was ten, eleven, I had been used to putting on makeup and fixing my hair for years, probably even longer than Sara.

I didn't want to tell her that I hated her help, absolutely hated it. She was condescending, she was pushy, she told me she was always right. She would get annoyed if I told her something she didn't like, she would make me cry, she made me feel so ignorant and sad. This was supposed to be fun, something that we did together, something that I so desperately needed.

She told me I should be thanking her for letting me do this, letting me become feminine, letting me take over her weekends. Other wives wouldn't be so understanding.

I thanked her, I always did, I bought her little presents and I always cooked. I learned to make her favorite coffee drinks, I learned to use the grinder, the frother wand. Soon I took care of the entire house, took care of her. After she was done helping I would let her pick out an outfit that she would buy me, I would let her take pictures. Finally, she would get tired of her feminine husband and move on to something else. I then hid in my room, I would smile in my mirror, but then in bed, I would cry to myself. I was confused, I couldn't tell if she liked this side of me or not, I just couldn't figure her out. Then in the morning, I would check to make sure there was no nail polish on my bed and sheets or even my fingers.

Slowly I did what she showed me, learned as quickly as possible just to get her out of my mirror. Then I went back to my original ways, my original brands. Part of me knew she never forgave me. It annoyed her that I didn't use her soaps or shampoos, she hated that I smelled like a different woman. She also began to realize I didn't need her help, or want to imitate her style, I didn't want to look or act like her at all, I wanted to look and act like me.

I didn't want to be her sister I just wanted to be her friend.

*

"Sabrina, you have a visitor."

I heard the bell, I heard Sara, I didn't want to leave my mirror, she didn't sound as happy as she did before.

"Okay, be right out."

I realized Sara would see what looked like a date. A man was coming to pick me up and take me out, it screamed date. She would watch him take my hand, lead me outside, open the door for me, she would watch a man take me out on a date. I'm sure other husbands in dresses had men come over and take them out to dinner, I'm sure it was a thing, maybe not in Port Republic, but still, somewhere.

I stood, I stopped by the door, I took a deep breath, watching my hidden cleavage, my breasts move on my chest. Maybe it would have been easier if we all went out together, it wouldn't look so much like something romantic. I knew I never would have gone for that anyway, I never would have been able to sit with five other people, making small talk.

"Sabrina! Are you coming out?" And I heard her laugh.

I took another look in the mirror, my makeup looked so good, my hair was perfect and this dress was so tight it showed off my breasts, my thin corsetted waist, my long legs. I looked like a woman who should be dating already. What was the big deal? I was thirty. I'm sure men found me attractive, wanted to spend time with me, they used to when I was younger. On some level, Sara must realize that's where all of this was heading.

I opened the door, I walked in on the two of them talking. She made a face, she knew I was too feminine, too good at this, then suddenly everything around me stopped. Ross smiled at me, it was something I wasn't prepared for. He walked over, he took and kissed my hand, he gave me more roses. A dozen, a handful.

"Thank you."

My voice felt higher, lighter, I smiled as he watched my dark lips, he moved closer as I took the flowers. I could smell his aftershave.

"Ross?" I said his name, it gave me a chill. "Would you like to see my roses?" And he followed, I showed him, I showed him my ultra-feminine bedroom with my vanity, my collection of blush brushes, my UV lamp, and eye makeup palettes. The mirror on my closet door reflects us back, a man and a woman in her maroon and pink bedroom. A man and a woman getting ready to go on a romantic date. He watched as I slightly bent and put the roses in the water, the vase, fixing them, I had some baby's breath, I was making them look perfect. My long hair fell about my face, I laid one side over my ear exposing my hoop, I sniffed, he bent and sniffed with me, he laughed as he moved up. I was watching him, I liked that he did that, I liked he was so comfortable with me already.

"So what's the special today?"

I jumped. Sara was at the threshold of the door, she was leaning, I hoped she didn't see that little interaction.

"A couple of things, since it's so close to Christmas. I will have Sabrina bring you back something."