Arctic Heat Ch. 01

Story Info
A secret crossdressing husband finally succumbs to his dream.
1.7k words
4.41
16k
13

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/14/2023
Created 09/10/2022
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Considering it was only mid-November, and winter was not due to fully arrive for another month, the relentless blast of the wind, driving down from the arctic, over most of northern Europe, was unseasonably brutal. Overhead the colossal mass of impenetrable charcoal-grey cloud was, according to the weather forecasters, engulfing the entire country.

Three weeks prior, when I had finalised my plans for this meeting, there had been no threat of the freezing weather and accompanying bitterness which had already begun to impact on road travel, with a possibility of, according to the media, causing major disruption to other transport services.

Thankfully, I had received no communication in regard to the meeting and assumed it would proceed without undoing any of the meticulous planning I felt I had undertaken.

With the car turned now off and stationary in the hotel parking spaces, I reached over to the back seat and lifted the oversized glossy rose gold shoulder bag to place it on the front seat next to me.

Leaning across, I almost lost my balance as the large fake silicone breasts I'd had little practice wearing pull me downwards. Bracing myself I checked my make-up and hair once more in the rear view mirror of the car, sweeping my long blonde hair over my ears and giving my lips a small work-out to confirm the metallic salmon-pink lipstick was immaculate. Contented, I stepped carefully from the comparative warmth of the car and was taken aback at the savagery of the wind which battered against the foundation and rouge on my immaculately prepared face, and threatened to rip the blonde hairpiece, which I had purchased especially for today's meeting, from my head.

Instinctively, one of my hands rose to grip the coat collar around my throat, which also secured the satin turquoise scarf too, whilst my other rested firmly on the top of my head.

Sheltering momentarily behind the car door allowed me to reach in and slip the bag over my shoulder.

As soon as I stood fully, the tail of the double-breasted long purple woollen trench coat ballooned behind me, as the piercing power of the wind drove an almost solid column of freezing air under it, destabilising my feet, as it continued to force its way beneath the bum hugging short skirt I had chosen, and against my bottle green satin panties, where it threatened to shrink my already nervous and shy penis into my pelvis. Instinctively I recognised these concerns were merely fleeting, as a little directed warmth would restore normality and the much anticipated growth.

With deliberate steps I managed to regain some composure in the new nude-pink opened-toed heels.

With one hand still holding the collar and the other atop my head, the rhythmic clack of my heels was lost in the almost barren car park, and I cursed my own stupidity for having left my car so far from hotel entrance, then pondered as I walked, relishing the tightness the heels created in my bum, it was simply my nervousness at the situation I had created, despite it being something I had desired, for so many years.

Glancing over my shoulder, and out of the car park, I marvelled at how ruffled the steel grey waters of the comparatively open harbour had become, as the wind scooped the white foam from the tops of the waves and spattered it onto the small boats which continued to bob. Through the murk a green and red light of a small ship entering the harbour rolled up and down, before almost vanishing as the weather closed in further. I shuddered at the thought of how cold the sea must be at this moment.

Turning my face back toward the hotel, I felt the comfort emitted from its own seductive amber lighting, and observed the same from several ground-floor windows which I took to be the bar and cafe. All the other remaining windows, including the three upper floors, were either darkened or had drawn curtains, some of which occasionally released a sliver of an inviting warming welcome.

This cosy perception was all the more prominent because it was only just past lunchtime, yet the sky snuffed out the normally delightful autumn light.

Small flecks of white snow danced giddily around my face, some coming to rest on my extended false eyelashes, and as I continued to watch the flakes, I observed them beginning to collect in a driven huddle against the kerbstones and corners of the window frames.

The sky was becoming increasingly ominous by the minute, as the threat of heavy snow gathered momentum.

Through the window of the cafe I saw several figures moving, dressed comfortably for the warmth which was readily evident

Approaching the double-doors of the foyer, I slipped my shoulder bag tighter and more secure, before reaching out and grasping the long brass handle firmly. With a brief tug it opened; a stone caught in the draft mat screeched it's protest across polished the stone flags.

A young woman, who was seated behind the reception counter raised her head, ignoring the telephone which had began to ring on the shelf behind her.

Ruffling the small flecks of snow flakes from my hair, I approached the desk, listening to door closing itself as noisily as when it was opened.

"Good afternoon..." the young redhead woman began, before hesitating, "...madam."

We exchanged a smile which warmed me greatly, as I provided her the details of the booking, our voices pleasantly subdued and muted by the heavy purple carpet and pale wood panelling of the reception area.

As I glanced around, through the the cafeteria glass doors, I observed several occupants, which created a slight flutter in my chest. It was evident from the relaxed state of dress, and coats over the back of the chairs the temperature was contrastingly comfortable.

"Just the one night?" the receptionist quizzed, deftly sweeping a rope of copper hair from her face.

"Yes, please, Natalie," I replied, acknowledging the name etched onto the badge, pinned to to her deep lilac blouse, on which was adorned the British Union flag, and French tricolour; a recognition of the languages she spoke.

Considering our proximity to the cross-channel ferry port, I assumed this fluency was probably extremely useful in her finding the job she had.

Her hand slid beneath the desk, and a moment later she handed me a purple, credit sized  plastic card.

"Your keycard," she smiled, her green eyes sparkling.

"Can I have two?" I asked, toying with the plastic, against my scarlet almond nails.

"Two?" she quizzed, "of course, my apologies, the booking says single occupancy."

"I know," I said "but I like to keep one in my purse and one in my bag, in case I leave the room without the bag," I continued, feeling a touch of guilt about my lie.

"Here you are, the second keycard," Natalie said, slipping it over the counter.

"Thank you, Natalie," I acknowledged, placing both keycards in the shoulder bag, which I had just placed on the counter top.

She looked past my body, and out into the car park.

"Get yourself a nice hot coffee from the café," she smiled, "it looks freezing out there!"

"It is," I began, zipping the bag shut, "and I think we are going to get quite a substantial amount of snow."

"Well, we are quite close to the motorway, and they try to keep that open, for obvious reasons," she said, leaning back in her chair, and sliding the pen back into bun of hair at the rear of her head.

"I nearly forgot," she added quickly, "your room is on the second floor, there is a lift through that door, " she quipped, pointing over to her right, "and there is also one from the bar, or café, around the corner" 

"Thank you," I beamed, "café not bar today."

"Enjoy your stay," she smiled.

"I shall," I smiled, slipping my bag back onto my right shoulder, and turning toward the glass double-doors.

Pausing, I took a deep breath to assist in the calming of my nervous state in this new venture.

The sleeveless fake breasts were beginning to feel heavy beneath the white turtle-neck top I had chosen for today's special occasion; first impressions were paramount. For this reason I kept the heavy coat buttoned, to emphasise them, as I desired to deliberately draw attention to myself, having summoned the courage to come this far.

There was no retreating I told myself as the coolness of the door handle pressed against my palm, and my eyes scanned the cafeteria through the glass panels, where I estimated there to be around a dozen or so people sat.

In my panties, I felt my cock head tingle with anticipation as the door opened slowly. I stepped through, glancing over my shoulder, to ensure it closed fully, and as I turned back, numerous men, and women, in the cafeteria were looking at me.

I glanced around looking for a familiar face, on the assumption I hadn't arrived too early.

With care, the high-heeled shoes took me silently over the carpet, as I felt the weight of the coat sway behind me, choosing to ignore the faces which continued to observe.

The polished brass and stainless steel surfaces of the cafeteria and bar provided a welcoming warmth in conjunction with the glowing lighting which oozed a friendly seduction.

I smiled softly to the buxom middle-aged lady behind the extended wooden bar, as she poured hot milk into a small cup. She nodded her head back to me, with an equally soft smile.

As, I continued to move quietly between the tables, my eyes scanned faces, and for a brief moment I felt a tug of disappointment inside my stomach, as I did not recognise anybody, and began to feel all my efforts and courage had been in vain.

A movement caught my eye, away to my right, almost in the corner of the room, as a hand shot up into the air, and waved. Turning my face fully, I saw a second rise up, and my heart suddenly began to hammer in my chest, as I turned to see two handsome men stand, and motion me to join them.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

A bit short , but a good beginning

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