Heels and Horses

Heels and Horses

By Sabrina G. Langton

***

Author's note: Something a little different, something exactly the same, you know how it is. A wonderful vacation suddenly changes two peoples lives, isn't that always the case? Suitcase, Ha... I hope YOU like it.

I wanted a new name for my heroine for this one, so I borrowed one from Barbara. She has great taste here on LIT, ha, she always reads my stories, and that makes me quite happy. TY B.

***

"They have Arabians, Morgans, and a couple of Thoroughbreds? Oh my god, I am going to love that." Lyla was excited, we met a man.

"My sister owns a farm, she's a trainer, she's quite busy. She always tells me she has the best job in the entire world." He laughed, "I always believe her."

We were looking down on Central Park, through a glass wall, a floor, it made me quite nervous. I held on to the side, I had my eyes closed. According to the others, New York City was still alive tonight.

It was after midnight, the bar was still crowded, and Lyla met a man.

"We came to New York," She was telling him, "To just take in some shopping and sights, now you are telling me the stables are that close? Ha, I thought we were going to go to restaurants and museums, stores, now all I want to do is ride a horse."

***

Then

Mom was pushin' me, mom I'm not sleepin' come on, stop, I wasn't even thinkin', I was imaginin', I was comin' up with a story in my head, this one was so good, why is she botherin' me, I am goin' to have ta get up.

"Mom, what?"

I don't like when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Disappear."

***

Lyla and I have been married for three years, she loved horses, I, well I loved other things. We were kind of compatible. We met at work, we were both in our late twenties, I guess we were both looking for a relationship, a change. We were booking agents, we booked bands, comedians, clowns, horses. We started out in client services, on the same exact day, fourteen months later we got married. I guess we WERE looking for a relationship. I was never too sure, I did whatever she or anyone else suggested. I was on the spectrum, I was, I had tests, I filled out forms. I was usually pretty quiet, my mind was always miles away.

We lived in an old converted warehouse in Pearl River NY, less than an hour's drive from Central Park. Lyla loved to watch the horses, the carriages and she liked to roam around the gardens. We went and stayed in Manhattan once a year, she liked the park, I liked the stores and nightlife. That was our compromise. We took two vacations a year, one was usually semi-exotic, it was two weeks and Lyla picked out the place. Then the other one was five days or maybe a week, and was just on the other side of the Hudson river, an hour away, and that one was for me. That was the plan.

*

We went shopping, then to a Broadway musical, we were having a nightcap at the hotel bar. Lyla wasn't much of a drinker but I didn't want to go back to the room yet.

"I'm Roman, it's nice to meet two beautiful women this high up." He smiled, we were on the thirty-third floor, drinking 'mint juleps.' I was wondering if beautiful women liked heights, I know I didn't.

"I'm Lyla, and this is my um, friend, Barbara."

I smiled as he took each of our hands. He held mine longer than Lyla's, mine had long white nails with little black polka dots on them. I went to the salon this afternoon, by myself, Lyla didn't like her nails long, or painted. My hands were soft, even my fingers were long, they were the most feminine thing about me. He had no idea I was male, he had no idea I was a crossdresser.

"Well thank you for keeping me company. We should definitely do this again."

We smiled, we said goodnight, my wife was usually in bed by nine, it was now way after midnight. We were staying ten floors below maybe eleven, we still had a great view of the park. For the last two summers, Lyla always got adjoining rooms when we went to the city. She didn't like sharing a room or a bed with another woman. She said I was too loud, too jumpy anyway. I was perfectly fine with that, I stayed up late, danced, dressed up, and posed in front of the big picture window listening to music, imagining I was home from a wonderful date, a quiet dinner, a romantic night to remember forever. Just an imaginary little fling on vacation.

***

I told Lyla I liked to wear women's clothes a couple of months before we were married. I didn't want to say anything but I figured she should know. It was always on my mind.

"Do you go outside?"

"Sometimes," I told her.

"Do you shave your legs?"

"I do." I was getting embarrassed. I looked down at my legs hidden in denim.

"Do you have to do this after we get married?"

I was thinking I was going to do this for the rest of my life, I loved it. I had a trunk full of dresses, costumes, and even leggings. I had another one full of heels, belts, and pocketbooks. I had a beautiful Ulta makeup case. It was one of my favorite things in the world. Sometimes I just opened and organized. The process made me more relaxed, and more at peace. I even had a 'socks, underwear, and bra organizer travel case,' it was completely full, I took it away with me when I was on the road with clients, I took it to various hotels I traveled to for work. I wasn't going to tell Lyla about that one. I didn't want her to know how feminine and dainty I or my lingerie was.

"I think so."

"Well I don't like it, I don't like it one bit." She folded her arms, she pouted. She was silent for days.

We were at lunch together, it was a quiet Tuesday at work, she was looking at a riding catalog, full of saddles, bridles, hay. I was daydreaming.

"Hey," She looked up at me, I was eating Ramen, I was making a mess, of course, my shirt was drenched. "You know horses are my thing." She shrugged, my mouth was full, I shook my head. She whispered, "You wearing women's clothes, you know, is that your thing?" I had a napkin on my lips, I shook my head. She looked up at the ceiling, I knew she was thinking. "I might start spending a lot of my time with this horse riding, you know, I just want to finally do this. I have some money now." She shrugged, I didn't know what she was leading to. "Maybe you can dress up while I go and ride, it will be good having a hobby, being married and all, okay?"

"So the ceremony is gonna happen?"

"Yeah, I guess. I want to see you dressed up first, see how good you are at it. See if I have to tell my friends or not." She was looking at her phone, checking her calendar. "Saturday, we can look for houses, you can dress like a girl, okay?"

"Okay." And that was it, she met Barbara, I wore a black dress, black heels, almost black pantyhose, she was quite disappointed but also somewhat impressed. Lyla didn't wear dresses, heels, pantyhose, she didn't even wear makeup. When I was a 'woman' I was the opposite. I was always dressed to impress, always ready to show off, always looking for attention but hoping I didn't attract any.

The real estate agent showed me too much attention, he kept on glancing at my breasts, my legs. He showed us a converted warehouse, said it was a great deal, he even told us about a rebate or something. Lyla was interested. It was perfect, it was in a great neighborhood, and it wasn't too far from work. Lyla couldn't believe that this was my first time out in a dress in a long time. She was amazed at how great I walked in five-inch heels. She couldn't believe the real estate agent gave me his cell number.

"You are so lying, you have totally done this before."

But I wasn't. But soon I was out in a dress all the time. Soon she was reluctantly introducing me to her friends.

*

When we went to the city the plan was for me to be dressed the entire time, she and my therapist figured I would get some of it out of my system and then be able to be a male for at least a couple of months afterward. The opposite would happen, I couldn't wait to get dressed and practice with my new makeup purchases, practice my voice, and my sultry looks in the mirror. I learned so much on these little trips. As long as she was busy she didn't really care, well she didn't really know.

Once we were home on the weekend she was involved in her riding. There were four stables near us, all over ninety minutes away. She went to all of them, every weekend a different one, sometimes she stayed over. It was great for me unless I was working. I had my own room, with my own closets and mirrors and I dressed the entire time. Sometimes I would walk around the neighborhood, I met people in the supermarket, the deli, the schools, I would make believe I was married to a man, maybe having a party, maybe sleeping with a policeman, an astronaut, usually I was just shopping for dinner. I wouldn't tell Lyla.

She would call when she was leaving and I would cook all the things I got at the shops, making believe once again that my husband was going to be so happy with my new recipes. I just had to make sure to be slightly male when she got back. She was always exhausted after driving and riding and I liked to stay femme under my clothes. I had on pantyhose, panties and my toes were always painted to match whatever press-on nail tips I picked out that day. I always made her dinner, drew her a bath, got her ready for bed. Being married was actually quite wonderful, I told her that several times, but being dressed, well... that was the best thing in the world.

***

"Roman wants to take us out." Lyla was in my room, I had just come back from the fancy salon on the first floor of the hotel again. I had my hair done this time.

"Oh, okay. Do you want to go alone, talk about horses?"

"No, he wants us both to go, someplace downtown, someplace for both of us he said. Why would I leave you alone?"

"I don't know I'm just asking."

We met Roman on Monday night, a couple of nights before, we bonded over drinking the same drink. My wife liked it because of its connection with the Kentucky Derby, one of her favorite things in the world, she has been to seven of them so far with her father. I liked mint juleps because of the bourbon, I loved alcohol, I loved the way it felt, made me feel, it was my second favorite thing in life, Lyla was my fourth.

"Okay. can I wear this?" I asked her, looking down at my gown. I didn't know if I was overdressed or not, to tell you the truth I never knew.

"Mmm." She looked, she was always unimpressed, she went from my heels up to my new hair. "You are so feminine, did you do something to your hair?"

"Yes?"

Of course, I did, I also had on my breast forms, they were D cup and I knew they made Lyla uncomfortable. She didn't like to see her husband with breasts. I never wanted to show her what I could achieve in my panties, if I was naked I could still look like a female. I have been tucking and wearing breasts for a long time, I was very good at it.

I thought I looked amazing today, New York City always brought the best female out of me. The salon on the first floor was always my first stop and Sonia, the stylist always made me look perfect, my hair, my body, my outfit, and my spirits.

Lyla always told me I was too pretty, too girlie, smelled too much like a teenager, but if we were on vacation, well then, she didn't care. She had her mind on other things, she would caress and help wash the horses in the carriage houses, she would brush them for hours. Hours. She figured we were far enough away from her family and her friends. They didn't know what we did and they all thought 'Barbara' was someone she met in college anyway, a girl with a 4.0 GPA. It made me giggle, I had looks and I was smart. No one was ever surprised if I happened to visit, or borrowed the car. Sometimes if I was walking or lost, one of her friends would walk me home.

Today I had on a long navy blue dress, I almost always went dark. My white, light skin always looked sensational in conjunction with darker clothing. The dress had little straps concealing my breast forms perfectly. I had a little necklace with black beads covering the seam under my neck, I liked wearing collars and chokers, I thought they looked so feminine, so sexy. My dress was long reaching the floor, I had to wear at least six-inch heels so I wouldn't drag it along the carpet. I had on my sandals, six inches, of course, slight platform, just a perfect arch to my foot, I was on my tippy toes. They had two little straps, they were very sexy, you could see my painted toes. I was clumsy and uncoordinated but I very rarely tripped on my heels, no matter how high they were. The dress had a high slit up to the top of my thigh, showing off my tan shiny pantyhose, my legs looked incredible, sometimes I couldn't stop rubbing and tickling them. I was always showing them off, I tried to draw as much attention to them as I could, I don't think Lyla noticed.

When I went to the salon to have my makeup done, Sonia worked on my face for an hour, foundation, brushes, concealers, I loved it. I then asked to have my hair dyed. I wanted it a slightly darker blonde, with some streaks. My makeup and lips looked so good I wanted more, I wanted my hair to look as great as my eyes, my cheeks. She gave me reddish low lights and even dyed my eyebrows. Sometimes I forgot I was a male with a different life, that I couldn't have such girlie hair. I always remembered too late, but I was always excited and surprised.

Lyla didn't mind what I did while we spent time in the city, usually, she didn't realize how drastic things were until we were back upstate. Sometimes I went really overboard though, I loved being a young 'woman.' The first time we came here I had my body waxed, and even had some of the hair on my face removed. Two years ago I had my ears pierced, last year I had injections in my lips to make them plumper, and every year I get long gel nails. Long. Once we get back home to Pearl River she is so annoyed, she makes me wear gloves when we go out, or to work, I never want to say goodbye to my feminine hands.

My job required a lot of hand-holding and it was sometimes tense explaining why I was wearing cotton gloves. I wanted to just show my clients but Lyla wouldn't let me, she said it would be better if they thought I had a different disease other than crossdressing. Lyla would shake her head disapprovingly until I relented and went back to short, unpainted nails. Sometimes it made me cry.

It was also very hard hiding my femme self back in Pearl River, especially when I am wearing hoops, large ones. Lyla gets mad at me and makes me take them off when we are eating dinner together. I put them back on as soon as I'm done, I always forget I am wearing them. She never lets me forget I still have them on.

I never complained or even mentioned anything she ever did, I remember I went along with her to buy a couple of horses in Connecticut, expensive, she pays for their boarding and now watches them online constantly, it's a compromise. When she goes to visit them, I paint my nails and imagine I am back in NY shopping and having mint juleps at the bar, calling and telling Lyla I am having a lovely time.

I started listening again. I couldn't wait to go out, show off my makeup, my hair, and my nails, and have a lovely time.

"Um, what time are we meeting him?"

"Whenever you are ready." She went back to her room to grab her pocketbook, I fixed my lipstick, I filled my little clutch, I put on my Gucci perfume. We went up to 33 to meet Roman. Lyla was surprised I could get ready so fast.

*

When we first met him, he was at the bar, he was all alone. We ordered drinks and he smiled at us. We told him we were here for the rest of the week, we were from Upstate. He told us he was from 33, right next to the bar, and also from Pennsylvania. He was supposed to get married the day before. He laughed as he told us his fiancé went off to England with a man she met at a gas station. He shrugged, he seemed a little disappointed, despite his laughter, so we stayed with him the entire night, we kept him company. He was quite nice, quite friendly and he knew how to talk to women, I was thoroughly enjoying myself. I was loving how he looked at me, smiled when I was almost funny, shook his head, and squinted his eyes at me when he was confused. I wish Lyla let me sit next to him. Now we were going out with him.

This would be my first time with a man for an extended period of time, definitely my first time with a man and Lyla. Sometimes if I am by myself looking fabulous I will accept a drink from a guy. Sometimes I would let one talk to me while in the elevator of a store, a mall, a hotel. Sometimes I would let them flirt, I loved it, I loved that they thought I was a desirable woman looking for a man of my own. I loved when they complimented my nails, my hands. I was never really worried about being read as a CD.

We were going up, I was checking my watch, I was feeling the pressure of the elevator. I was just a little worried that tonight, being with Lyla, I would start to get distracted again, and start thinking out of the box. She had a way of not paying attention to me when we were with others, she would leave me to my own amusement.

"Hi, you two are so beautiful tonight. Barbara, look at that hair, you are stunning."

I smiled, I liked that he noticed. Roman was probably eight, ten years older than us. We were both twenty-seven and I always felt so young when I was dressed up. I usually felt like a teenager not just smelled like one. I felt like I was waiting to grow up. I needed more time as a girl, more time to become a 'woman.' Even being out with Lyla, I felt too immature. I usually let her order the food, pick out the movies, the musicals, our time to go home, I felt I wasn't old enough to make any kind of decision. She didn't seem to mind, she liked being in control anyway. She didn't think I was paying attention half the time, especially if I was in a dress, especially if I just came from the salon. I was glad she wanted to hang out with Roman, an older handsome man in a nice jacket, who couldn't keep his eyes off of my breasts, legs, and of course my hair.

Lyla didn't really care for attention.

Soon we were in a cab, heading to SOHO, someplace that he knew of, one he said we would love.

We were dropped off on Broadway, busy, lots of lights, lots of people. We walked down one of the side streets, dark, quiet, slightly dangerous. His smile made me trust him, we held his arms. He said he could take very good care of two pretty women and I believed him. He was at least another three inches taller than me, in my heels. He was wider and had broad shoulders and thick arms, I am sure we would be safe. We stopped, we walked into a non-descript building. He knocked.

A small part of the door slid open, we saw eyes, we saw a mustache.

"Tara sent us."

They let us in, it was a speakeasy, we moved to a table and two people stood up. "Roman!" A woman, then a man both hugged him, they watched us, I smiled, I was nervous meeting people.

"Ladies this is my sister Tara and her husband Greg." The two of them looked very nice, dressed very professionally I was instantly comfortable with them. They took our hands, Roman stood behind us. "This is Lyla, the authority on horses, and this beautiful person here is Barbara."

Tara's eyes lit up, "Barbara, I have heard so much about you." She kissed both my cheeks, and her husband did the same. I couldn't imagine what he told them, we haven't known each other for too long, only a couple of days, and I never even got to sit next to him.

We sat, I crossed my legs, I felt my stockings. I ran my long fingers and long nails on them, I was surveying the room, I was starting to drift. I was going to enjoy this, I had people staring at me already. We had cocktails, a lot of bourbon, a lot of bitters, a lot of lavender, I was loving it. I was loving playing with my hair, talking to lovely people, and having a lovely time. One of the drinks the mixologist made for me was incredible. Everyone else had mint juleps this time, but I asked him to make me his specialty, whatever he thought was his best drink. He gazed into my eyes, he smiled and shook his head, I could tell he was excited. When he brought it back it looked perfect, rimmed with powdered sugar and dark brown, my second favorite color.