tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersHalloween with Movie Stars Ch. 06

Halloween with Movie Stars Ch. 06


And just like that heels were added to his repertoire. Now in the afternoons and evenings when he came home from class, the door was locked, the pants came off...the heels went on.

It was no different than when he started wearing panties. He tried them on, liked them, saw no reason not to wear them every day. Heels were slightly different in that people could tell he was wearing them. So he couldn't wear them all the time, but he could wear them every day.

It's funny because he never understood chicks wearing heels. They looked completely uncomfortable and they were always complaining how they hurt their feet. Of course all of that was true. The thing that was missing for him was how they made you feel. And you really couldn't know that unless you slipped a pair on. And just like panties, they made him feel different. That different was good... made a lump in his panties.

He could see that Angelina loved them. The way she looked at him, looked at his legs...looked at the lump in his panties. That made a lump in her panties.

He thought back to that first conversation they shared, how she revealed that they'd dressed up so they could suck cock. He remembered at the time thinking how impossible that statement seemed. How could she sit there and admit, truthfully, that she liked to suck cock?

It had blown him away at the time.

Not only did she like to suck cock, but actually came up with the idea of dressing as a chick to get it. Of course the premise was straight forward. And it made perfect sense. But that didn't make it any easier to swallow. At the time it seemed so far out, so wildly crazy he could barely believe she said it out loud...much less actually did it.

And it worked. It worked like a charm. He fell for it. He fell for it hook, line and sinker. He never had the slightest clue. He didn't consider himself a chump. Actually he thought of himself as rather street smart, was proud he had that little edge.

Tim fell for it too. How could he forget the way his buddy bragged about that first blowjob? Clearly he bought it, thought he was on top of the world. There was no way he would have done anything with Angelina had he suspected anything at all.

It was all just crazy.

Of course now...both of them sucked cock. They sucked lots of cock. And loved it.

They wore panties too.

Adding heels to the gig was not that big a deal.

They discussed it. They first broached the subject playing basketball. They'd played basketball together for years. They could talk there. It was just them. And there was another element too. It was manly. They never really thought of it that way before, but these days, it was hard not too.

It wasn't a single conversation. It was one that started, stopped, started again. It popped up at the strangest times, and insight here and there, then silence. Days and weeks passed. Just like everything else, it seemed so strange in the beginning. And just like everything else, seemed more and more acceptable, achievable as time went on.

Of course Pete would go first. That was pretty much understood, was implicit throughout their conversations. That was Pete's personality. If either of them could do it, if it could be done at all, Pete had the best shot.

It always came back to a single question. Could he?

The first time he asked himself that question his palms started to sweat, his face flushed. It was so radical, so different. There was a part of him that knew he could pull it off. But when he thought about it, really thought it, actually doing it...well that was another thing altogether.

He should have known then he was going to do it.

Over time the question was more about what Tim would think. Tim was his friend, his buddy. What he thought was important. This clearly could be one of those things, once done, could not be undone. It would be lodged in their memories forever.

But then he thought about that first time Tim fucked him within an inch of his life... and laughed out loud.

He was not a bad looking guy, but not particularly handsome. He was no Brad Pitt. Most would say he was average looking. He had a long face, dark hair, brown eyes. He wore his hair short, clean around the ears, combed off to one side in front.

Of course the first thing to go was the body hair. They shaved his cock weeks ago and he'd kept it that way ever since. He was fortunate in that he had no hair on his chest and stomach. The hair on his arms, while not robust, was removed.

He found the process of shaving his legs particularly erotic the way the girls did it. One would consume his cock while the other ran the razor slowly up his leg. Then they would switch with the other taking control of his cock, teasing, slurping as another swatch of hair was removed. While it took longer to get the job done, no one was complaining, least of all him. By the time they were done, his cock was steadily leaking on the edge of a mind numbing orgasm and his legs were satiny smooth.

Marilyn took his toes. She trimmed, shaped and buffed until each was perfect. She applied the ruby red enamel with such precision. Angelina took his fingers. He watched as his nails doubled in size, became perfectly rounded. The same ruby red enamel was applied flawlessly.

He was amazed by the difference of makeup. First of all, his face became perfectly smooth, even and a shade lighter. There were hints of blush on the cheeks, feathered in bringing a slight variation that made his face look wider, without looking plump. His eyebrows were narrowed, made longer, given a distinctive shape. There was eye liner that brought definition to his eyes, mascara on the lashes making them full and pronounced. The eye shadow gave them depth, made them interesting, definitely feminine. No matter how he turned, the light played off the ruby red lip gloss which was unquestionably sexy as hell.

It was a strange sight to see such a feminine face, everything perfectly in place coupled with a boy's short brown haircut. Of course that all changed with the wig. Large curlers were inserted and hairspray applied. After a suitable amount of time, the curlers were removed.

Now it all fit together. That feminine face was framed with long flowing brown hair with a delicate curve. The long drooping earrings were exactly what one would expect to see and matched the petite necklace.

He stepped into the lace up corset and watched as the girls filled the cups with perfectly shaped breasts with hard little nipples. They had him exhale completely and tightened the laces as much as they would go, which was plenty to give him a nice feminine hourglass shape with an envious bust any woman would kill for.

Even though he had worn stockings before, he still got a thrill feeling that cool silk slide up his legs, the way it seemed to catch the air and tickle his senses. Angelina made sure they weren't just any stockings. No, they were the ones with the seam going up the back. It was your basic neon sign saying following this...right up this short little dress...to this very fine ass.

He was presented with French cut panties, black satin, trimmed in cute lace. He was shown the secret little pouch with a conspirator wink. He slipped them on, pulled them just short of the prize, already thick with excitement. He tucked it into the pouch, pulling the elastic around the base and closed it up. The rest of the trip was short, but glorious. His front was smooth and flat with not a hint of his throbbing, which intensified greatly.

The heels they choose were simply wicked. They were open toed and stiletto heeled with a series of audacious ankle straps that was more than a little suggestive of bondage. When they weren't screaming 'fuck me', they were purring 'tie me up.'

And last, but certainly not least was the dress. It was the final touch, the ultimate tribute. It was pure poetry, the dirty kind. It was short, very short making the most of his long, lean legs. With just the right move, he could flash the lace stocking tops in a way that looked innocent and totally naive.

The dress itself was made with black sequence that dazzled under the least of light and featured an open back that was clearly glamorous, daring and provocative. It fit tight hugging the fullness of his bust, emphasized the curve of his waist and the roundness of his ass.

He looked in the mirror, saw the total package. It was unbelievable. Even knowing the truth, he still believed the reflection over everything else. It was impossible not too. He was looking at Mila Kunis.

There was no doubt in his mind he would attract attention. In fact, it was clear that he would attract tons of attention.

As that idea worked its way into his psyche, a devious grin formed. He cocked his hip practicing his femme fatale look in the mirror. He felt so exposed in the short little dress. His eyes made their way down to the two small dots sitting atop the two large bumps nicely outlined by the black sequence.

He would definitely be impressed by the woman in the reflection. He would consider her hot, sexy. He would definitely try to peer up her short little dress to see what kind of panties she was wearing. And yes he would think bondage with just a single glimpse of those heels. How could he not fantasize about those ruby red lips running up and down his cock?

Then Tim was allowed in, stopped, and stared. The look on his face was universal. It was pure lust, unbounded, impossible to hide. The glint in his eye, the slight upturned lip, the growing bulge in his pants was unmistakable. The fantasies that danced in his head were written across his face in big bold letters.

Pete's natural instinct was to take full advantage. He gave Tim a succulent gaze through the mirror's reflection running his tongue seductively across his ruby red lips. He witnessed Tim's meltdown, first hand.

It all became clear to him at that very moment. The girls, their game...the whole deal. Crystal clear. He got it. He more than got it.

Now it was his game...too.

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