Dream Date

I'd forgotten about my stage make-up and terrified, I stopped replying to her emails. I'd been caught red handed and I cursed Julia for potentially jeopardising my new ideal relationship. I stopped communicating with her and didn't reply for days. I still checked my inbox and each night she sent me a note asking me to reply and each night I deleted it. She confessed to liking my picture and what I wore and not to be so shy. She asked to see more of me but by this she meant she wanted to see me in a skimpy dress showing even more flesh.

Every night when I came home from work and changed I saw in the wardrobe the girls clothes that Julia had neatly rearranged at one end. They reminded me of Lucy and after a particularly bad day at work I succumb to another of her begging emails.

But instead of just sending a text I searched my laptop and found the photos Julia took of me wearing just the dress with tights and high heels on.

I thought long and hard before sending her a reply with a few choice pictures - I still didn't know who this mysterious woman was... And was she even a woman. I didn't want to lose her so after some sole searching I took a deep breath and hit send.

Her reply was almost instantaneous. She was delighted and incredibly complimentary. She admired my long willowy legs, my narrow waist and slender arms. She even thought my face was soft and feminine. I thought I might be repulsed by her comments but the more I read her flattering compliments the harder my cock became. I poured myself a stiff drink, drew my bedroom curtains and stripped. For the first time since being with Julia I leafed through my trophy girls clothes collection as if browsing through a fashionable boutique.

The voices of angels inside my head told me what to do and I had soon made a selection. I wore a navy and pink drop-waist cotton dress over white lace panties, bra and tights. Slipping on a pair of court shoes I soon found myself skipping about my room like a lovesick teenager. As if in heaven, I danced to my ipod and with my eyes shut, my hands were soon inside my panties. I didn't feel any shame as I yanked my cock vigorously. Happiness soon followed as I burst into my hand with more vigour than I can recall. Exhausted and flaccid I collapsed on my bed and still wearing my wet, soiled panties fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

'I want you to wear a pretty paisley mini skirt,' Lucy asked in her next email. No explanation. Just one simple specific instruction. By some remarkable coincidence I had one. The thought excited me and I did as she asked slipping into tights, sling-backs and a cream top. I'd even become a dab hand with my camera. Securing it on a tripod and setting it with a delay timer. Lucy was delighted with my appearance but she still wouldn't send me a picture of herself or arrange a meeting. The following day she became even more adventurous. She wanted to see me in something even more specific - a gold lame mini-dress but this time she wanted my composition to be more interesting. She wanted me to show off my digital photography skills as well as my panties. Again fortuitously I owned such a garment. It was odd that she knew that hiding in my wardrobe left over from a wild party and a forgetful girlfriend was just a gold lame dress. It was as if Lucy knew what cast-offs I had in my wardrobe.

Her questions where odd yet I didn't want to lose her so I wore it as requested and photographed myself. But this time I didn't just photograph myself standing as if in a family album I sat and stood in a variety of poses I'd copied from a women's magazine. I interpreted the poses slightly differently and posed making sure the more observant would notice my sexy panties. I sat with my legs slightly apart for one and I bent coyly over for another. My award winning shot was of me hiking my dress up to my waist so I could adjust my stocking clasp. Lucy was impressed and continued to ask me to pose for her. Over the following weeks, every few days she gave me a different request. Wrap dress, pencil skirt, swimming costume etc.

As our cyber relationship blossomed I developed a fondness for dressing up and when asked I openly confessed to cross dressing. It's what she wanted to hear I was sure and I didn't want to disappoint. Her response was immediate and enthusiastic and the following night after my confession she sent me some photographs of herself. I was delighted. She was a sex bomb and matched my exacting requirements in every way with shoulder length blonde hair, a perfect slim but curvy figure, blue eyes and a beautiful smile. She dressed femininely and felt as if I'd won the lottery - she was more than I could have dreamed of. She had a natural sexiness that could make a bin-liner look seductive and the sexy images of her launched a flood of fantasises. One image was of her prancing around in a beautiful pair of panties and a matching bra. She had great legs, superb boobs and a washboard stomach. The underwear fitted her like a wet dream. That night I celebrated not with a beer as one might expect but instead I wore a black bra, panties and suspenders. I lay across my large white bed and dreamt of Lucy. My body became weightless and I moved gracefully as if floating. I dreamt of being a beautiful girl just like Lucy. I went to the most hip clubs, I shopped in the fashionable boutiques, I wore pretty dresses and high-heeled shoes. In fact I did everything I imagined Lucy doing. I worked in a smart office, I was bought lunch by the young men and taken out in the evening. I even skipped barefoot in a field of poppies - the inevitable happened and I came to the sound of a thousand shooting stars.

One night when checking my email she came on-line. It was fun as for the first time we chatted, exchanging mails as if next to each other. She asked me what I was wearing at that very moment and judging by her tone she didn't expect me to be in jeans and a T-shirt as I was, so not wanting to disappoint I told a lie. A big fat lie, but doesn't everyone one on the Internet? I said I was entertaining friends later so was wearing a black crepe dress with high heels and black fishnet stockings. I could tell by her response that she was terribly excited. She wanted to know what panties I had on and how I had done my hair then without warning she logged off. I was quite disappointed but a few minutes later, to my surprise, Julia knocked on the door. I was pleased to see her but she seemed really disappointed to see me dressed in only T-shirt and jeans. 'Not going out?' she asked.

I wasn't sure where Lucy lived other than she was local. I kept suggesting we meet but she kept refusing and she could tell I was getting frustrated so as a token of gratitude for my patience she said she wanted to send me a gift for being so good. I panicked so I asked Julia if I could give her address. I knew it was a risk as despite my new friends seemingly nice nature I had no idea who she was or her intentions. I wasn't even entirely convinced that it was a girl, you really can't be too careful. Julia surprisingly agreed and a few days later an ominous parcel was delivered. Julia gave it to me with delight. I didn't recognise the postmark and the address was typed. Unsure of its contents I refused to open it in front of her instead I opened it later that night alone. It was a beautiful shoulder length blonde wig of a style very similar to Lucy's and the very panties she wore in the bedroom photograph. I couldn't resist trying it on but before doing so I dressed in a lacy bra, matching panties and my favourite paisley mini-skirt combo. I'd never worn a wig before and therefore nothing prepared me for the breathtaking transformation. It framed my face beautifully. Wearing her panties was a revelation.

Every time I was able to comply with her dressing requests then she hit me with bombshell - she wanted to see me in a wedding dress. I had to read the email twice before it sunk in. 'I want to see you as a blushing bride in a long silk bridal gown with a train and a veil.' It read. 'It must be sleeveless and you are to wear long white elbow length gloves. I want to see pretty romantic lingerie and white stockings, with your feet in a pair of dainty white court shoes. Do this for me and we can then meet.'

I scoured Ebay for weeks but to no avail and every night she seemed to get more disappointed with my lack of success. I even thought she might give up on me so to appease her and keep her interested I would wear something from my blossoming clothes collection and send her the picture. With my new confidence I bought more skirts, dresses, tops and shoes. It seemed to do the trick and keep her interested but eventually my patience paid off and I struck lucky.

I bid on a gorgeous sleeveless wedding dress just as Lucy described. I took a guess with the sizing and hoped it wouldn't attract many bidders. I waited patiently for the auction to be over and to my delight I won it.

Lucy was ecstatic with the effort I had put towards my wedding photos and as a reward she said we could meet. I was made up but there was a condition that made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle with excitement. I had to wear my paisley mini skirt and her panties and dress convincingly as a woman. What was I to do? Agree to her wishes or never see my dream date. After much deliberation I accepted the challenge.

I chose a pub out of town so as not to be recognised. It was a quintessential, old English pub that I thought I could mingle in unnoticed. I had drunk there before and remembered it was dimly lit with lots of hidden alcoves to hide in. I spent hours getting ready. I took a luxurious bath in a fragrant oil, I shaved my legs and under arms. I moisturised all over and dressed in my best panties. I wore a close matching bra and slipped on a pair of tights. The mini skirt was incredibly revealing but over the past few weeks I'd become accustomed to wearing it so I felt relaxed and confident. I painted my nails, brushed my wig and made up my face. I darted out of my house after checking the coast was clear and sat in my car heart beating ten to the dozen. I had plenty of time but was horrified to find my aged car had two flat tyres. I had never had two flat tyres before and wondered if it was the work of vandals but I didn't have time to worry -- if I didn't leave soon I'd be late and if I missed Lucy I assumed she would never forgive me. The situation seemed hopeless, as it was too late to email Lucy that I would be late and was inappropriately dressed to be changing a wheel by the roadside so I nipped back home and dialled a cab. It was only when I was half way there did I realise it would have been wise to have brought a change of clothing as I had no idea what the evening would bring. The taxi driver was rather sweet and could tell I was nervous but I got my first compliment and he was oblivious to my identity.

He found the country pub and I was early. A group of young local girls arrived in another car so stepping out of the taxi, I thanked the driver and tagged on behind them surreptitiously. It worked and no one noticed my entrance. But inside I got my second shock of the evening as since I'd last been it had been modernised into a trendy bar with bright lights and only a few comfy sofas. It was also packed with pretty girls and lads on the pull. I winced with embarrassment but bit my bottom lip and walked deeper inside my heels tapping noisily on the wooden floor. I ordered myself an orange juice and sat in a relatively quite corner. I was petrified. I looked like a girl waiting for her boyfriend. A handsome young man approached and asked me if I wanted a drink. Flattered I politely refused and with some relief he moved on to the group of girls I entered with. I watched the door like a hawk eagerly awaiting my mystery dream girl, Lucy.

Then to my horror in walked a familiar figure dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I recognised her immediately... I tried to shrink into the corner and hide behind my juice but it was useless dressed as I was I stood out like a sore thumb. Julia saw me. I pretended not to notice. Think about it, why should she recognise me? I looked nothing like my former self in a blonde wig with a full face of make-up dressed as a fashionable young girl. I hoped she didn't recognise my paisley mini skirt from my wardrobe. I put my handbag on my lap and prayed. With relief she goes to the bar, chats to the barman and orders a drink. She looks round again as if looking for someone. I stare at my juice and fiddle awkwardly with a beer mat hoping she will sit down. I don't look up but hear a woman's heels on the floor.

'Excuse me,' says a familiar voice, 'is anyone sitting here.' She points to the leather armchair chair beside me. I smile awkwardly and without waiting for a reply she sits down. I cower in silence as I become very conscious of my short mini and long slender legs. My mind races as I wonder how I can possibly justify dressing in women's clothes.

'Looks like we've both been stood up,' she says warmly.

I smile sweetly but say nothing and consider bolting for the door. Minutes pass like hours and I dare not even move my legs terrified she might recognise a mannerism.

'Are you wearing my panties?' she asked.

I thought I'd misheard her.

'You really don't get it, do you?' she eventually says breaking the silence.

I look at her confused. 'Excuse,' me I say.

'You're a clown. You don't get it. You'd quite happily sit here all night without saying a word to me.'

'B... But I'm waiting for a friend,' I say my bottom lip trembling.

'Oh come on, lets stop this stupid charade. I know who you are. Do you honestly believe this meeting is coincidental?' Her big brown eyes surveyed me as thoroughly as a billion-dollar research project, and blinked once.

'You're Lucy'

'Fuck,' I say, 'go away.'

'There's no call for hostility,' Julia replied. 'I'm trying to be sensitive. I'm not the one who's cross dressed in a revealing mini skirt and sexy semi-transparent top. You where having problems coming to terms with the situation. That is, of course, perfectly understandable.'

'What. ' I say tears forming in my eyes.

'The girl, your dream date, Lucy, the one you're waiting for, the one you want to meet, she is for all intents and purposes you.'

I stare at her dumfounded unsure what she meant.

'Didn't you realise I was masquerading as your online dream date just to get you to become her. This is what you wanted,' she signs heavily, 'If I left you to your own devices you would never explore your own inhibitions.'

I couldn't believe my ears. 'But you're not the girl I emailed. I don't understand. The photo, your hair, your eyes, those clothes.'

She laughs. 'The hair is a wig and you're wearing it now, and it looks lovely by the way. I wore coloured contact lenses and borrowed those frilly clothes from a girlfriend.'

'But, your photo, you where.' I paused not wanting to offend.

'Slimmer,' she said helpfully. 'I know,' she chuckles, 'but you of all people should know how adobe photoshop can retouch photos like a dream.' she laughed and touched my leg. 'But lets not talk about me lets talk about you and more importantly us.' She grins as if winning a game of chess.

I feel tricked, angry and humiliated.

'So it was you all along that asked me to dress and pose for you?'

'Yes,' she grins, 'and didn't I do well?'

'But you're not cross, shocked or angry. Why aren't you ashamed?'

'Hardly, how could I be when it was I who encouraged you? Without me forcing the issue you'd still be wrestling with your own emotions.' She laughs and then went on, 'It was like pulling a muscle from its shell but now you're out I can't see you ever going back. Haven't you sussed it? You're more relaxed, confident and natural as pretty Lucy.' She giggles and cups a hand admiring my long fingers and expertly painted pink nails.

'But aren't you ashamed of me,' I say dejectedly. 'I feel terrible.'

'I can happily accept your new identity a long as you accept me. I have needs too and up until now you've ignored them and me. But first you have to embrace the new you and accept your desires.'

I look confused. The realisation made me falter. I could feel the desire to confess pulling at me, like a big boisterous dog tugging on its lead. I felt it, but somewhere deep inside of me, a little voice said, confess. I want to dress as Lucy. I cleared my throat as if making a major announcement. 'But don't tell anyone, will you?' I say tears rolling down my cheeks.'

'Wouldn't dream of it,' Julia replied. She hesitated. 'But ultimately its up to you, but not if you don't want me too.' Julia looked at me with her big round eyes and waited.

I stare dumbly at my juice and cross and uncross my legs in silence unsure what to do. Julia loses her patience

'What is it to be!' She laughed coldly. 'You have never even begun to understand me,' she said. 'No wonder you have failed so miserably to get a long-term girlfriend up to this point, to find your ideal mate you have to understand what you want perfectly. But you are the sort of person who goes out with and beds any girl at random. Yes you've been successful but what you've struggled to find is your alter ego, the girl you'd love to be. '

I stare at her open mouthed unsure how to react.

'Whatever. It's really rather immaterial as right now, I've got your nuts in a mole wrench or should I say... pair of panties.' she laughs at her own joke then looks around to check no one is eavesdropping. ' I have you this time. All that is left is how much damage you want to do to your social life, its mere periphery and it makes no odds as far as I'm concerned, either way. Your choice.'

'Do you honestly believe there's a girl out there who matches your exacting criteria and now that you have discovered a new identity likes her men to prettily dress for them?' she shakes her head. 'You and me are made for each other. I knew it long ago its just taken you a while to realise it. This is your golden chance. Call it your last chance. If you don't come with me, that's it. Don't ever try and come crawling back, do you hear me? If you say no, it's for keeps, I don't want anymore to do with you ever again. Think about that, will you? Think about it?'

I did long and hard. I considered how I enjoyed dressing in romantic lingerie, short skirts with high heels. Putting make-up on and brushing my hair. She was right I was lucky to know a girl so understanding.

'Ok,' I say but she could tell the uncertainty in my voice.

'You have to be sure I don't want you to do this without 100% conviction.

She looked stern and inevitable like a divine justice. 'Now unless you give me your word before I count to ten, I'm going to tell everyone about your secret.'

'Ok, ok,' I'm sure I say.

She smiles pleasantly

'Look,' she said, 'its been a long day and its been a lot to take in. Why don't you come home with me and relax. We can talk some more. I love you though you've been to blind to see it. I want you to be my girl. I want you to live with me but I want to see you explore your feminine side more.' She touches my leg and runs her fingers over my tights as if smoothing out any wrinkles, 'I want to see how pretty you can dress for me.'

I feel a heavy weight lift from my neck. I needed confirmation. 'So.... I said slowly you want us to be partners if I dress as the woman.'

'God you're slow. Yes. Do you want me to spell it out to you? When appropriate of course, as long you give me what I want too and that's the fun part. As I said I have needs too. You may look like a beautiful young woman but there's no getting round the fact that you've got something in your knickers that I haven't got and dearly want.' Her hand darts up my thigh and just touches my groin. 'That is of course you go the full way and have it surgically removed but that's probably a step too far don't you agree.' I grin stupidly concerned that an erection would seriously ruin the line of my mini.