Finding Rachel

This could have also been in the fetish section - do check the tags. Primarily this is a story of female-led experimentation and feminisation.

As the key entered the lock on our front door, time crawled to a halt. My vision narrowed to a tunnel. The analytical part of my brain raced. I wasn't in immediate view; from around the corner, Claire couldn't see what I was wearing. I ripped the delicate fabric from my legs as the door opened. The rest of the underwear followed as she called out, explaining how traffic was so light. I struggled into my jeans as her heels clacked across the floor. My t-shirt just settled onto my body as she rounded the corner. She beamed at me as she came around the corner. The cold sweat was beaded on my brow. My body shook. But somehow, I had gotten away with it.

She leaned in to kiss me. She pulled back, smiling quizzically. 'Why are you wearing my lipstick?'

Oh fuck.

* * * * *

Claire and I had just gotten married a few months before. We had been together for years, and never felt closer. She was my best friend, my perfect lover. Despite the long time together, our passions had never cooled; I worshipped her tall, slender body by night, and if we could manage it, during the day. I often thought she was far out of my league; her model looks, from her glamourous face, long perfect blonde hair, and her above-average height seemed far beyond my own stature. Even in modest heels she was taller than me. But somehow, she was happy. We both were.

Claire was a marketing lead at a make-up company, I was an IT nerd, faceless at a megacorp. Most of our days were the same. I worked from our home office half the time, she worked full time on site, but either way when we were both there, we were inseparable. We greeted each other with a kiss, held each other close, cuddled on the couch. Even cooking in our tiny kitchen was a fun, close activity. One of the few times we were apart was when Claire showered, and only when she showered; sometimes should would join me, strategically right at the end, for minimal cleaning and maximum fun.

After a pleasant three months of settling into our new life together, despite an ungodly amount of time spent in each others' company before, I asked the question. Later, I could point to it as the the first moment something changed, but in that instant, it was simply idle curiousity.

'What takes you so long in the shower?'

Claire gave me a long look as she stripped off her work clothes, and grabbed a towel. 'You know how you love how soft and smooth my legs are? How nice and smooth it is when you go down on me? How my legs feel through the stockings you can't keep your hands off?'

I found myself growing at the very thought. 'Yes?'

'That's what takes so long'.

Clearly, at this point, I took leave of my senses. 'But it can't take that much time. You're in there for ages!'

Claire has a number of Looks. These range from the Irritated to the Apocalyptic. She turned one on me, and as I realised just how badly I fucked up, I noted it as Baleful. Medium intensity; prolonged suffering imminent. She reached out, grabbed my hand, and dragged me to the bathroom. She sat me on the toilet, tapped the screen of her phone, turned on the shower, and hopped in. 'Watch carefully!' she said, with a smile.

The smile unsettled me. She was planning something. She showered in what I assume is the normal way - nothing overly-emphasised. Of course, I was watching my perfect wife get sopping wet in front of me. As she soaped up her modest breasts, I was already flying the flag at full mast. I restrained myself from getting the wrong message.

Claire propped a long leg on the edge of the tub, grabbed her razor and gel, and started to shave her legs. She covered most of them quickly, but the delicate areas around her knee required a lot of slow care. She finished her legs, and moved on to her crotch. I watched, rapt, as she carefully worked around her lips, into the creases of her hips and thigh, taking extreme care not to nick herself. I was still staring when I realised she was finished. She wrapped herself in a towel, strode over to me, and thrust out the razor.

'Let's see how fast you are. You have...' she checked her phone. 'Twelve minutes. I think that's fair, don't you? It can't take that much time'. She smiled sweetly.

I knew instantly what she meant. There was no way she wanted me to shave my face; I didn't even get stubble. My chest was bare too. The only hair on my slim body was on my legs and crotch. I could match her stubbornness, though.

'Fine! I'll do it in half the time'.

Twenty-seven minutes later, and I had managed to nick only one knee. I scraped the last of the gel from my crotch. A huge amount of that time had been working around my cock and balls - the thought of slicing them scared me so deeply I could barely move. But I did it. Even the bits of fluff on my ass.

Claire had long towelled herself dry, and sat with a smug grin. Her point was made. I would only need to do one final piece of penance. She helped me towel dry, and took a long look at my smooth body. She seemed to like what she saw.

'I'll be waiting. As usual. Don't be long'.

Claire and I disagreed frequently. Thankfully, we had worked out a system to reinforce disagreeing only when it was important. After we disagreed, one of us would put forward a test. Will we make the show on time? Will it taste just as good with different herbs? will I be able to shave quickly? The winner, simply, gets oral until they are satisfied. Losing didn't feel bad, but winning felt incredible.

I walked into our bedroom to find Claire lying on the bed, legs spread wide. I could see she was already aroused, her lips slightly flushed and wetness glistening within. I wasted no time, and dove into my penance. I licked her from the base of her slit to her clit, drawing a moan from her other lips. Her hands found my head, not directing me; I knew what she liked, and she knew it too. Instead she kneaded my scalp, hands eager to work at something as I licked and sucked. My tongue danced on her, diving down to drink her in, thick, clear wetness coating my tongue and lips, before returning to her most sensitive spot. I spelled my name, her name, the alphabet, all again on her hard button. Her moans took on an eager tone, and I clamped my mouth tightly on her mound, tongue flat and working hard on her clit. She came quickly, flooding my chin. I lapped at her softly as she came down, but she pulled my head up.

She needed more.

I crawled up her body, kissing as I went. I left a trail along her taut stomach, the underside of her breasts, her firm, rosy nipples, her neck. I reached her mouth, and as I kissed her, her legs brushed mine. The feeling was electric. Even the thin coating of hair had robbed me of so much sensation. I ground my cock into her crotch, and even there the sensations were amplified tenfold. A moan left my mouth, totally unbidden. Claire giggled. 'Someone is eager'. I murmured something back and kissed her deeply, before sliding into her soaked slit. The incredible sensations persisted; I could feel even my balls on the smooth skin of her ass.

I tried to hold off as long as I could, but within a few minutes I could feel the familiar approach of an orgasm. I reached between us to thumb Claire's clit. She mewled into my mouth, and, just in time, she panted hard and clamped down on me softly as I spewed rope after rope of cum inside her.

After catching our breath, she looked at me, expectantly, one exquisite eyebrow arched. 'Well?' she said.

'You were right. I was wrong'.

'Very good'. She nodded. 'So. How does it feel'.

My face burned. I felt the instant need to deflect. 'How does what feel?'

'Your legs and cock obviously! Does it feel good?'

'Doesn't feel very different'.

'Oh really? So you cumming in record time is a coincidence?'

My face flushed deeper. 'Okay, fine. It's nice. I can feel more of you. And I like that'.

'That's a good answer'. She gave me a quick peck on the lips, and pushed me off to get cleaned up. 'No more questions on my shower time then'.

'I was just curious! But okay'.

She paused at the door to the bathroom, half closed. Her face peeked around the corner. 'It looks good on you though'.

I couldn't suppress a grin as the door closed, and looking down, I couldn't disagree either. Everything looked a little emphasised.

* * *

The next day passed without incident. The day after, as I sat in my home office, I became aware of an intense prickling sensation. Over the course of about fifteen minutes, it grew unbearable. I tried standing spread-eagled. I tried lotion. I tried a cold shower. Nothing seemed to work. My legs and crotch were growing spiky hair and they were not happy about it. I put it off as long as I could, but within thirty minutes, it was unbearable. I rushed to the bathroom, hopped in the shower, and began the laborious process of shaving everything.

I already felt more practiced, but the process took as long as I had to hunt by feel for still-invisible hair. Eventually though, I felt smooth and my body had calmed down. I went back to work, only mildly curious about the half-hardness of my cock that didn't seem to diminish for some time.

That night, I sheepishly confessed to Claire that I'd shaved again. At first, she seemed shocked, but then she closed her eyes. 'Sorry Alan, I forgot this would happen. For me it takes longer for hair to come in I guess. Are you going to push through next time?'

I thought back to the incredible discomfort of earlier in the day. Would I now have to spend an extra fifteen minutes a day making sure I was fully bare? Or could I handle the itching for a few days?

'I really don't know'.

Claire wrapped me in a half-hug. 'I'm sorry, I didn't think this would be a long term discomfort. I just wanted to win'.

'I know. I wanted to win too. It's fine'.

'I'll make it up to you later?'

'Hmm. You could make it up to me now. It's been sooo stressful'. I mimicked a swoon, and Claire batted my arm.

'Fine, give me five minutes'.

The five minutes passed incredibly slowly. I paced outside the bedroom door, but eventually, Claire called out. 'Come in! No clothes allowed!'

I hurriedly stripped, and opened the door to one of my favourite sights. Claire was wearing her silky black stockings, her garter belt, and her half-cup bra. She rose from the bed, slinking over to me, before dropping to her knees before me. My cock was already hard at the sight of her, a dollop of pre-cum sitting on the head. Claire's tongue flicked out, lapping it up. She licked again, just under the head, as my knees buckled. She drove her tongue in circles before closing her warm, wet lips around my cock, inching it deeper into her mouth. She took it as deep as she ever had, and then to my surprise, kept going. She bobbed, back and forth, the hot wet sensation driving me wild. After a few minutes she pulled off, gasping, and stood, pulling me to the bed.

'That was deeper than before', I said.

'It's easier without hair in the way', Claire shot back.

She pushed me down onto the bed, and made to straddle me. She ground her pussy against my soaked cock, and again I was taken aback by the sensation of only skin. My cock soon slipped inside her. As she settled, I leaned up to capture a nipple, drawing a happy moan from my lover. Claire started to bounce, and my prize was pulled away. I was comforted by the incredible sensations. Not only of her tight, warm tunnel on my cock, but the feel of her stockings on my bare skin was unbelievable. Again, it started to bring me close. I deployed every trick in the book, thought of every mundane or nonsense topic I could while I drew circles around her clit, bouncing along with the rest of her. The combination of senses overwhelmed me eventually, but I held out for long enough Claire got to enjoy a long, slow orgasm.

As we basked in the afterglow, her legs shifted against me, and I felt myself twitch, despite my previous release. 'What are you thinking?' Claire asked, staring at me.

I kept looking to the ceiling, but I was honest. 'Your stockings feel fucking amazing. Is that how they feel for you all the time? Aren't you soaked just by putting them on?'

Claire gave him another look, but a thoughtful one. 'I do like how they feel. And they do make me feel sexy. Really sexy. I like how much you like them, but just putting them on does make me wet. They're not practical. Putting these on for someone means you're getting fucked.

'God that's so hot', I said.

Claire looked at me, and the second thing happened. The one that sealed my fate. 'Wanna try them?'

She didn't wait for a response. Instead, she sat up, unhooked her garter belt, unhooked the stockings, and pulled them down. She tapped my leg, and without thinking I lifted my foot, pointing it slightly as I had seen her do in the past. She quickly slipped the stocking along my leg, fabric still warm from her body. She repeated this on the other leg, and passed the belt under me. Our waists were a similar size, so it fit almost perfectly. In a moment, she was bare, and I was amazed by the sensations. The stockings felt incredible against my smooth skin. Looking at my legs, they felt like they belonged to someone else. A woman, somehow.

Claire pulled me from the bed, and had me stand in front of her. She spun me around, my legs whisking faintly as I did. She looked me directly in the eyes. 'Are you enjoying this?'

'It's fine'. She looked at my cock, which was bouncing with my heartbeat, a river of pre-cum leaking from it. 'Okay, fine, it's so fucking hot. Am I weird?'

Claire stood and kissed me. 'I don't care if you are or not. You look great to me. Now lay down so I can ride you again'.

The sex was almost the same as before, but I was able to hold out much longer despite the incredibly arousing sensation of the stockings on my legs. Claire alternated between leaning over, riding me close, kissing me deeply, and sitting bolt upright looking at my legs. After we came again, I made to sleep immediately, but Claire scolded me, instructing me to carefully remove the lingerie lest I damage it.

The next day was a different kind of torture. Still working at home, I knew I was in no danger of the prickling sensation. I knew this because I checked the smoothness of my legs and crotch, and found it perfect. That lead to remembering the night before, and the almost irresistable urge to put on Claire's stockings again. I shook the thought free from my head. It had felt good, but I couldn't make a habit of it. I thought about it some more. I needed to take emergency action. There and then, I pulled my cock out, stroking wildly. I thought back to the night before, the sexy feeling of being dressed up, and within seconds I came so hard I was seeing stars. I cleaned up with a mild sense of shame, and was somehow able to focus on work for the rest of the day.

That night, Claire bounced into the house with a huge grin on her face. 'I have a surprise for you!' She handed me a bag, then took it back and ripped it open herself. 'Ta-da!' She pulled out a loose assembly of flimsy fabric which I recognised immediately. 'Mine?' Claire nodded excitedly. I should have hesitated, but I couldn't disappoint Claire, could I?

We skipped dinner. I put the stockings and garter belt on immediately, and when I looked around saw Claire had done the same with hers. I rushed to her, kissing her deeply. Our bodies pressed tightly together, and I couldn't drink in enough of the feeling of her breasts on my chest, her crotch against mine, her legs and the fabric on them brushing against my own. We fell into the bed together. Claire turned, raised to her knees, exposing the perfect curves of her ass and her wet slit. I pounced, thrusting into her. This time, I couldn't hold off. In less than a minute, the world turned white around me as I came.

'Already?' Claire said. I was normally good to make her cum at least once, often twice or more. The lingerie had pushed me too far. I pulled free, and looked her over, legs half crossed, propped on the bed. My half-hard cock twitched, a droplet of cum beading on the end.

'I'll be ready to go again soon. Sooner, if you help'. Claire rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and pulled me to the bed. She had me lay down, and started to give my cock the kiss of life. It was soon taking longer than expected, and I worried Claire would get frustrated. I pressed her hip, pulling her legs towards me. She looked at me, puzzled for a moment, before giving a half-shrug and straddling my face before returning to the task at hand. As the wonderful sensations in my cock grew, I reached out with my tongue. A second later I realised why Claire had been so surprised; I had never gone down on her this soon after cumming inside her.

I thought twice, but realised I couldn't back out. Besides. I'd tasted it before in a moment of curiosity. It wasn't bad.

I dove in, eager to thank my lover for the hard work she was putting in below. I licked and sucked, and somehow the flavour was better than I remembered. Maybe my diet had improved, or maybe it was the mix of Claire's juices, but the taste wasn't just fine, it was good. I lost myself to licking, and after some time came back to Claire sprawled on top of me, stocking clad legs clamping my head, panting heavily from an uncountable number of orgasms. I was rock hard, and didn't want to waste it.

Claire climbed on top of me, grinding her hips. I could feel every inch of her, right down to the bottom of her pussy. She kissed me, tasting both of us. 'Did you enjoy yourself?' She whispered. I nodded. Her pace increased. 'When did you get so kinky?'. I fished around for an answer, but she didn't need one. She quickly came again, kissing me hard. I held off, thrusting back against her spasming slit, pushing her orgasm higher. She came back to earth for a moment, looked down, and came again. I could hold back no longer, and replenished the load I had cleaned from her before.

The post-coital cuddling was becoming a therapy session.

'Is there anything else you'd like to try?' Claire asked. I thought for a moment, but wasn't sure. The stockings felt amazing because of the bare skin. I wasn't sure what else we could do. 'Do you want to try my panties?'

I thought of Claire in her sexy panties. Usually she wore something with lace, but they seemed soft and silken. Almost as much as the stockings. My cock twitched at the idea of the silky smoothness, and Claire, her leg thrown over me, did not miss it.

'I'll take that as a yes'. I blushed. Claire stood, pulling her discarded panties from the floor, dragging them up my legs. I was certain my cock had been limp only a few seconds before, but now she had to tuck it to one side. It still bulged obscenely against the soft fabric, but I couldn't deny how good it felt.

'That's so fucking hot', Claire said.

'Are you really into this?' I asked.

'I don't know. I never thought about it before. Who thinks about putting their husband in panties and stockings? But this is sexy. I never noticed before how feminine your body could be'.

'Hey!' I objected.

'That's a compliment! You know I've been with women before. This way you're giving me the best of both'.

'You're not gonna get me to tuck and pretend I have a pussy are you?'

'For now, I love this dick altogether too much'. She stroked me and gave me a deep kiss. I sensed there was more to discuss but I felt exhaustion wash over me in waves. I barely had time to strip the silken garments from my body before sleep took us both.

* * * * *

You know I've been with women before.

The thought echoed in my brain. Claire had been open about her past, enjoying the occasional dalliance with a woman. I had certainly enjoyed hearing about it. Was she missing it? Behaving more like a woman did seem to turn her on.