My Secret Life Ch. 03

‘Oh I think I’d actually prefer tea, please. You’ll find the tea-bags are in the second cupboard from the left. I won’t be too long.’

She was as good as her word and reappeared just a few minutes later dressed in a Japanese style kimono that was spectacularly decorated with a pair of brilliantly colourful inter-twining dragons. And even though our coupling had left me physically drained I still felt myself being strongly stirred by not only the way it left the deeply plunging valley between her breasts exposed, but also how its thinness outlined the sharply upwardly curving shape of the rest of them.

‘That’s a beautiful robe.’ I said, letting my eye follow the dual set of curves; those of the richly decorated, spiralling dragons’ bodies, and the movements of the underlying flesh that was bringing them to life.

‘Thank you - but I think you’ll find it’s a little too small for you.’ she answered with a grin.

‘Oh I could never do for it what you can Vida.’ I replied as I continued watching the dragons’ stimulating movements as she turned to pull out a chair and then sat down opposite me.

‘Mentioning that does give me an opportunity to ask if we can talk about the one thing we never previously seemed to ever get around to actually discussing Alan.’

‘What was that?’ I replied.

Well even now I don’t know if it’s something you will feel you are able to tell me - but I often found myself wondering just what it might have been that made you discover the pleasure you get from dressing in women’s clothes?’

I remained silent for a while - I had posed the same question to myself, many times, and although I thought I had identified the kernel of the problem, I wasn’t really sure I was able, or perhaps that should have been, willing, to verbalise it to anyone. But, just as I had those more than ten years ago, I then knew that Vida was not just ‘anyone’. Just a short time before I had realised exactly how ‘special’ she was to me - and, I thought, if I wanted to re-start our relationship on a really sound footing, perhaps this was exactly the time to start sharing such personal confidences with her.

‘Well, I’ll try to explain it, but first I think I had better clarify one thing. Although wearing these things is, as you have found out for yourself, a massively powerful turn-on for me - it’s not just wearing them that I enjoy. I also like handling them, and even either the prospect or the actuality of seeing a good-looking woman in any sort of fine lingerie. And of course that is particularly true if the woman is as stunningly beautiful as you are.’

‘Oh I think all men like doing that Alan.’ Vida replied.

‘Yes I know - I think it’s accepted that most men are far more visually, even voyeuristically stimulated than is the average woman - but I think that with men like me it might be even more so. Perhaps the best way I can describe it is that I think that when the average man sees a woman in undies or lingerie he is anticipating its removal - discovering exactly what delights she has been hiding from him. In my case there is not only that but, and the other effect can be even more powerful, I’m not only excited by just the look of a woman in beautiful things, but also by the look and the feel of the garments themselves.’

‘So when was it that you first discovered this about yourself?’

I paused to take a long drink of the tea I had made us, giving myself just a few moments longer to be certain I wanted to really answer that question, then took a deep breath. ‘I think it might be something I was born with.’ I began. ‘Even from when I was a very little kid I remember how envious I always was of my sister, I mean of what she was given to wear. She’s a bit more than three years older than I am.’ I explained. ‘Then there were the trips to my grandmother’s.’

‘You were envious of your grandmother’s clothes?’ Vida interjected disbelievingly.

‘No, I wasn’t quite that bad!’ I countered with a grin. ‘She had always been heavily involved in the local amateur theatrical society, as their wardrobe-mistress, and had accumulated boxes and boxes of all sorts of outfits. So whenever my sister and I went to visit we could always be certain that at some stage, usually on a rainy day, out would come one or two of the boxes and we were given the opportunity to play dress-up.’

‘Ah, now I see the connection.’ Vida responded. ‘And I suppose that at some stage either you or your sister decided to dress you up in some girls’ clothes.’

‘Exactly right - and even at that age I somehow realised that she seemed to take even more pleasure from doing it to me than she did from what she was doing to herself. And I liked knowing that, I mean knowing that I was making her happy.

As we both got a little older there were times when we mostly forgot about those boxes, but every now and then one or other would remember them, and out they’d come again. And that went on for years.’ I added, pausing to take a sip of tea before continuing.

‘But then, it must have been some time after I had started puberty, I found it wasn’t just the pair of us dressing-up that gave me a sense of enjoyment, but that even just helping my sister pull the various clothes out of the boxes began to do the same thing for me, and also get me excited, I mean physically excited.’ I explained. ‘And was embarrassed to find that actually putting them on gave me the start of what I was then calling a ‘stiffie’. So one day, when she had left me alone by going off with one or other of her friends, I got out a box that I knew had the things she usually dressed in, and tried something of hers on for myself.

That was the first time I actually masturbated while I was dressed in feminine clothes.’ I concluded.

‘I imagine that, or some variation of it, might be pretty common with men having the same interest as yourself.’ Vida suggested.

‘I think it’s very likely to be something like that, yes. But of course once I found just how much pleasure I could get from doing that I began to get sneaky about what I did - I mean when we were back at home.’ I explained. ‘When I thought the coast was clear I’d creep into my sister’s room; sometimes I’d just play with myself while running my fingers through the dresses hanging in her wardrobe, sometimes I’d actually rub a pair of her knickers over myself. Then, when I found how even more exciting doing that was I realised that if I dug around in the things in the laundry basket I would probably find something I could actually use to properly masturbate myself - I mean to ejaculation.’

‘I expect that even that is not an uncommon practice in households with teenage brothers and sisters.’ Vida commented.

‘Probably not - but by then I had grown to be the same height as my sister and one day I wondered if I could actually fit into one of her dresses. Of course to do that I had to wait until I was the only one in the house - but I’ll never forget the day that actually happened.’ I said, then paused as the memory itself came flooding back.

‘Although I knew the house was empty, and there wasn’t any sound other than my own heavy breathing, I was on tenterhooks. Leaving nothing to chance I had stripped off, hooked a towel around my waist - prepared to say to anyone who might suddenly appear that I was just going to take a shower - then padded across into her room.

The first thing I did was to take a pair of knickers that I knew she very rarely wore, and pulled them on. Just doing that began to give me an erection, and by the time I had decided which of her dresses to try on, it was throbbingly hard. I slipped the dress down over my head, straightened and smoothed it - just as I had seen my sister do hundreds of times - and as I turned to look at myself in the mirror, felt my cock twitch, then discharge!

I was mortified! Not only had I made a mess in a pair of what should have been spotlessly clean underwear - but it had all happened ridiculously fast! But, perhaps it was seeing the sight of myself in the mirror, perhaps something else, in spite of the annoyance and shame, I continued to stand there, looking at myself, and feeling the warm, sticky wetness of her knickers pressing against me. And, much to my surprise, and delight, just a minute or two later, felt the unmistakeable feel of my dick getting hard again.’

‘Ah the innocently joyful potency of puberty.’ Vida exclaimed..

‘Too true.’ I replied. ‘Anyway, that gave me a second chance to enjoy myself, that time a little more slowly - which is of course exactly what I did - and as I had already wetted the knickers, a second lot of jism didn’t really make too much difference.’

‘And you just went on from there?’

‘Exactly, though once I was old enough to know that what I was doing was considered decidedly odd by most people, I kept my activities even more close to my chest than most teenage boys might do about their masturbatory activities. And other than my previous wife, you are the only other person who has ever had any idea of my secret life - and I never allowed her anywhere near as close to it as you have been, and that only came about because I thought that, unlike her, you didn’t have any problem in me being this way.’ I added.

‘Oh you know I don’t, in fact, as I think I told you a long time ago, to me it adds just another excitingly interesting aspect to the person you are! But I always appreciated the confidence, and naturally never have and never would, dream of breathing a word to anyone else.’

‘Of course I know that - but you asked, and because I’m hoping that we both want something stronger to have a chance of developing between us, I’m now actually glad that you did.’

‘I’ll drink to that!’ she replied, draining the last of her tea.

******

And that was how our lengthily interrupted affaire re-started, and perhaps because we both regretted the loss of what might have been ten years of mutually exciting experiences we seemed determined to waste not one single hour of whatever else life might have in store for us.

Most of the time we did exactly what most other young, and no longer quite so young, lovers did - taking and creating as many as possible opportunities to just be together; mostly making love in exactly the same way that all those other lovers were doing. Sometimes I would be the initiator, sometimes Vida; but whichever of us had made the first move I made sure that I was always the one who actually performed the simple act of undressing her. She soon understood exactly how excited I could get from just unbuttoning, unzipping or unfastening the various things she happened to have on, and how much deeply stirring pleasure I got from slowly and carefully removing each single item of clothing.

As she said to me quite early in our reunion - ‘You treat my clothes with even more loving care than I do.’ - and that was probably true; the very feel of whatever I happened to be holding, was thrilling, knowing that it had only just been slipped off from her beautifully sensuous, and so very female body, only made it even more so!

But other times, our ‘special’ times, we did what those other lovers undoubtedly did not do!

From time to time, perhaps every week or two, when we knew that neither of us was over-tired from the work we had been doing, we set aside an evening for our fantasy games with each other. It would always start in much the way it had that first evening that Vida alerted me to the fact that she had uncovered my secret life, by us showering, then her slowly but lovingly, shaving me.

By then I was confident that I ran no risk of her nicking me, and just watching her picking up my razor was quite enough to start to get me excited; feeling its keen edge working its way over the various parts of me, finished the job - and long before she had completed the task, I would have a full-sized, raging erection.

As we both knew that in that condition we would be prevented from experiencing the sense of anticipation that was always a key component of our enjoyment of what we planned to do next, we used a variety of means of getting rid of it; sometimes she would simply and efficiently masturbate me, sometimes she would take it in her mouth and suck it dry, but sometimes - if she was feeling particularly mischievous - she would push me over into the shower and turn the cold water on full blast, then stand there giggling while she watched my tumescence wilt away.

Once that preamble was completed we would head through to the bedroom and each take out, either whichever outfit we personally fancied at that moment, or whatever we had most recently bought for ourselves. Then we would take it in turns to slowly - adding the various items turn and turn about - dress each other.

I’m sure all men love the act of undressing their woman, seeing their body appear part by stimulating part - and of course I did too - but, at least for me, doing that process in reverse was, in many ways, even more exciting!

There was the sheer delight I felt each time I picked up the individual garment - whether silk, nylon, lace, or whatever other material - feeling the filmy fabric running through my fingers set them tingling, and then sliding it over or on to her, feeling both the item itself and the texture of her skin, was even more so. And feeling her doing the same thing to me, and seeing the pleasure on her face as she did it, was sheer delirium!

Once we were both dressed we would head back to the lounge-room; sometimes eating the meal we had pre-prepared, sometimes, if we had already eaten, pouring ourselves a drink or two. But regardless of whatever we were outwardly doing, each of us spent most of the time simply admiring the appearance of each other. And, if the things we were wearing were something new, and especially if Vida had found something even more dramatically sensuous than usual, that, at least for me, could be the very best part of the entire evening.

But of course all that was really no more than extremely extended - and I’m sure to many other people, a somewhat bizarre - form of foreplay, and in time we would take just as much enjoyment as any other couple would from slowly and lovingly uncovering each other - then making love in one of the many varied ways we found most pleased and satisfied us.

I was interested to find that having my personal weakness so regularly and lovingly satisfied definitely reduced the pressure in me to more dramatically transform myself in the way I had previously sometimes felt I had to. At first Vida would, from time to time, bring out something she said she had bought specifically for Alana, and that would become the cue for us to spend at least part of that evening bringing something of her to ‘life’. But when Vida eventually plucked up the nerve to tell me that because she always got such a thrill from seeing my cock through whatever I was wearing, she would much prefer it if I never wore the gaff again, even those occasions became very much a rarity.

Not that we spent all of that time in or around one or other of our beds - we both had our careers, which included a generally hectic round of social engagements, but as it became known that we were in fact a ‘couple’ we started to find that invitations to one usually began to also include the other.

During those first few months of our being together again I found the confidence to expand on what I had initially told Vida about my predilections; how I still fantasised about both the idea of being able to freely shop for the things I wore, rather than either sneakily doing so, or, as I more usually did, be satisfied with purchasing them over the Net - and that one day I might even be able to summon up the courage, and then find a way of actually penetrating the ‘holy of holies’ of a woman’s world, a beauty salon!

I still remember the thoughtful look that crossed her face when I told her that - but the relatively small circle we both moved about in did of course mean that most of whatever activities we did had of necessity to still be carried out in the privacy of our own rooms.

However, and even though between us we already had an extensive array of sexily pretty things to use in enhancing our various, and amazingly varied performances; week by week we added something new, the pair of us spending a remarkable amount of our free time shopping for either herself or for Vida’s imaginary, and apparently highly sex-charged ‘sister’. And after two or three such shopping trips I was emboldened enough to cease playing the bystander; sometimes even wandering off alone between the racks of feminine finery - admiring both the romantically erotic pastel, and the more sexily dramatic colours - sometimes visualising either Vida or myself in one or other of the more explicitly erotic outfits - and feeling the tingling of my cock’s response whenever I reached out and ran my fingers through the displays of silk, nylon and lace.

Although just being ‘let loose’ amongst that swirling sea of feminine fripperies was always more than enough to set my heart racing - and send my imagination soaring - as there were nearly always other shoppers close by, I had to be careful to not allow myself to become too over-enthusiastically physically stimulated.

There had been one unfortunate morning, quite early in our shopping expeditions, when I had not been able to do so - perhaps in part caused by the fact that our activities the previous evening had been dramatically curtailed by the onset of one of Vida’s more heavy periods. I had already been browsing through the extensive range of bra and panty sets, which had included some in a range of colours and styles I hadn’t previously noticed, when I was attracted by a large display of a nightdress and peignoir. It was white, a colour that Vida for some reason rarely wore - the always remembered, prettily florally decorated bra and panties she’d worn that first night we’d made love, apparently being the exception that is said to prove a rule.

But at that very moment, as I stared wide-eyed at the display, I thought that what I was looking at simply had to be one of the sexiest garments I’d ever seen.

What first attracted my attention to it was the fact that the normal arrangement of those sets had been completely reversed; whereas with most such outfits it’s the peignoir that is transparent and the nightdress that is opaque, in this case the nightdress itself was obviously virtually see-through, and the peignoir’s heavier than usual fabric and lace-work made it rather less so. As I stood there, unable to help myself from continuing to stare; I found myself imagining Vida’s sensual body both filling and showing itself through the filmy fabric, could imagine how it would feel when I lightly ran my fingers over it, then the even greater excitement I would get when I began to fondle the firm softness of Vida’s curves through it.

And immediately felt my cock jerk powerfully upright - or at least as best it was able to do so within the constraint of my pants and trousers.

As I continued to gawp I found myself actually ‘seeing’ Vida; standing there for me; proudly displaying herself for me; for me to both admire and to lust for. ‘Saw’ her moving, stepping down from the stand, then walking towards me. ‘Saw’ her breasts pressing against snow-white brilliance of the thin, all-but transparent fabric that had moulded itself to them. ‘Saw’ her already spikingly swollen, dark cherry-red nipples. Clearly ‘saw’ the shape of her narrow waist and gently flaring hips. Even ‘saw’ - at least in that vision - that never-forgotten fine-pointed arrow-head pointing the way to the delights that remained hidden below.

I have no idea how long I stood there; time and place seemed to have lost all their usual meaning, and I was even only vaguely aware of the increasing pressure of the throbbingly straining thing that had suddenly reared up between my legs. So the sound of her voice seemed to come from the apparition that was still slowly moving towards me - ‘Alan - Alan! - ALAN!!!’ she said with increasingly anxious loudness, then reached out to touch me.