One for the Team Ch. 06

"Sounds like a plan," Archie agreed and they left the cottage, which in the dwindling evening light looked deserted and forlorn.

They parked at the Holiday Inn and went their separate ways to use the payphones to call their respective spouses. Archie had been cheating on his wife for so long that he no longer felt guilty. He'd caught her in bed with another copper less than a year after they were married. They'd tried counselling and had even sat down with the local vicar but they both knew their marriage was a sham.

If not for their son they would have divorced long ago. They played happy families around the boy but fought like cats and dogs when he wasn't around. Strangely enough the sex remained good despite or maybe because of their frequent infidelities. His wife was currently conducting an illicit affair with a senior officer who was black and she'd teased Archie about the size of his cock. Archie's response was to bend his wife over the kitchen table, holding her down while she struggled, and fuck her while she was still wearing the business suit she intended to wear to work that day.

He hadn't even removed her tights or knickers, he'd ripped her tights open and pulled her knickers aside and fucked her hard and fast while she fought him, but the wetness of her minge gave her away. He'd turned her around when he climaxed and spunked all over her skirt and she'd put her hand between her legs to finish what he'd started as he sprayed her with his jism.

"If you'd fucked me like that a bit more often when we were first married we might still have a marriage," she spat at him before going upstairs to change her suit.

To make matters worse she worked at Scotland Yard in the records division where he had first met her and he often ran into her during the day or caught her flirting with one of the detectives. She was incorrigible.

Sandra Tingle's marriage was different. Her husband doted on her. She had deliberately set out to find a partner who had nothing to do with the Metropolitan Police. She'd dated coppers on her way up the promotion ladder and found most of them to be hopeless drunks who just wanted a shag at the end of boozy night out or were serial adulterers who just wanted to get into her knickers. She'd foregone the married men but the single coppers she'd dated were hopeless.

She'd married a schoolteacher who was kind and sensitive and adored her. He'd insisted on waiting until their wedding night before having sex and she'd feigned being virtuous but she needn't have bothered. He had turned out the light and climbed on top of her under the covers and climaxed as soon as his penis touched her sex.

He'd patted her on the shoulder and told her it was lovely and that about summed up their sex life. Sandra had tried to spice things up in the bedroom but it had the opposite effect on her husband who rebuffed her advances except for his Friday night ritual when he would be on her and off her in five minutes.

She knew that carrying on an affair with her partner was cliché and she knew that Archie would never leave his wife while their son was still growing up but Archie was a habit she just couldn't kick. They were a great team on the job and they were great in bed. Archie and Sandra just clicked. Archie had once joked that they'd missed the boat by not finding each other before they married other people. Sandra had cried herself to sleep that night because she knew it was true.

They'd agreed to meet in the restaurant; Chelmsford was far enough away from London for them to not have to be worried about being seen out in public together romantically. Archie was sitting at the table studying the wine list when Sandra walked in.

Gone was the shapeless navy blue suit, thick blue tights and scuffed low heels and her hair was no longer pulled back in a tight bun. She was wearing a black high-waist pleated bandage-skirt with a white long sleeved chiffon blouse, black patent-leather high heels and sheer taupe hosiery. Her hair had been shampooed and teased out and her makeup was perfect.

"You look beautiful," Archie got out of his seat and pulled back her chair for her.

The male customers in the restaurant, mostly travelling salesmen and men away from home on business, stared at them with envy.

Archie bent down and kissed her cheek as he tucked her chair under her. Her hair smelled of shampoo and her perfume was beguiling.

"So I don't look like a dowdy WPC then?" she smiled up at him, knowing full well that she looked stunning.

"You're beautiful even when you're dressed like a dowdy Detective Constable, knee deep in shit. But when you dress up you look like a princess," Archie kissed her softly on the cheek again and then took his seat across from her.

"I bet you say that to all the policewomen whose knickers you want to get into," Sandra teased him.

Archie's smile dropped from his face and she realised she'd hit a soft spot. Since they had become partners Archie had stopped catting around and it was Sandra's first marital affair. Archie still flirted around, more as a ruse to throw people off the scent than anything serious.

"I shouldn't have said that Archie," Sandra smiled wanly.

"If the shoe fits I suppose," Archie was pragmatic.

"Archie..." Sandra gave him a sultry glance.

"I'm not hungry. Not now anyway. Let's go up to my room and we can have dinner after," she started to rise and Archie bolted out of his seat and helped her with her chair.

"After what?" he was a little bemused.

"Now you're just being silly," she smiled at him and Archie's heart skipped beat.

They took as many assignments as possible away from London; their Division was often seconded to police services in other Counties. Most of their squad were more than happy to let Archie and his partner take the out of town assignments, the Division worked long hours and they were happy to spend as much time as possible at home.

Archie missed seeing his son but was happy to away from his witch of a wife and Sandra found the constant doting of her husband oppressive. What she wanted her husband to do was shag her senseless not shower her with flowers and chocolates at every opportunity.

They barely made it inside Sandra's room before they started pawing at each other.

"Let me take this off before you ruin it!" Sandra pushed Archie away and stepped out of her skirt and took off her blouse.

She looked sexy and inviting dressed in her knickers and bra with her sheer holdup stockings and high heels. Archie got naked and was folding his suit pants when Sandra attacked him and dragged him onto the bed. He lay supine on the covers as Sandra straddled him.

"I've been waiting so long to do this," she moaned as she reached out and snapped off light leaving a single bed lamp burning.

Archie kissed her and she returned the kiss. They were both impatient as they hadn't been in bed together for awhile but Archie resisted the temptation to jump on Sandra as much as she wanted him to. Instead he took his time caressing her, freeing her breasts from her brassiere, stroking them, feeling her nipple harden when he tweaked them.

She was working her tongue in his mouth, clinging to him and she mewled her disappointment when Archie broke the kiss but disappointment turned to bliss when Archie used his lips and his tongue on her breasts. He lapped at her hard nipples and then took them one at a time in his mouth and suckled them, gently nipping them with his teeth.

Sandra moaned and writhed on the bed, guiding Archie's face to her breasts and trying to hold him there when he continued his journey down her body. Her cunt was encased in transparent nylon panties and the exotic scent of vaginal juices betrayed her arousal. He licked her slit through the diaphanous knickers and Sandra growled and entwined her fingers in his hair and pushed his face into her crotch.

Archie slipped the gusset of her knickers aside and opened the folds of her labia like the petals of a flower. He sucked her juices and lapped at her coral pink inner lips then found her clitoris with his tongue.

Sandra bit the pillow to stifle a scream as she orgasmed; she pushed Archie's face into her pubis and ground her sex against his mouth. As her climax subsided Archie's ministrations became unbearable and she pushed his face out from between her legs. She encouraged him to work his way back up her body until they were once again kissing passionately. Sandra had recovered and craved him inside her and she guided his hard cock to her sex. He didn't need any encouragement and he slid his cock into Sandra's hot buttery cunt and sighed. She locked her stocking-sheathed legs around his flanks and crossed her ankles behind his back. She knew he loved the sensation of her nylons on his sensitive flesh.

She put her arms around him and crushed her mouth against his and rose to meet his thrusts. They rutted and climaxed together and she felt his seed fill her and dribble between her legs as her vagina quivered and extracted all of his spend. Archie ensured his pubis pressed on her clitoris and was rewarded when Sandra began to shake as another orgasm shook her body.

They lay locked together reluctant to break their embrace but eventually Sandra unlocked her ankles and lowered her legs.

"Cigarettes are on the table and drinks are in the mini-bar. Bring them and yourself back to my bed before your side of the bed gets cold," Sandra kissed him and then pushed him off her.

Archie did as he was told and poured drinks and lit cigarettes for them both. They finished their drinks and cigarettes and lay side by side contented.

"So did you think of Mrs Frobisher," Sandra smiled wryly.

"She was the furthest thing from my mind," Archie rolled Sandra onto her back and lay on top of her.

She smiled up at him and he smiled back and stroked the fringe out of her eyes.

"Oh god Sandra. You're just so perfect; I think I lov..." Archie said with all sincerity before Sandra silenced him by putting a finger to his lips.

"Don't say it. Please don't say it Archie. I can just about stand living with myself doing what we're doing, but if you say that I'll end up saying it back to you and then what do we do?" a single tear ran down Sandra's cheek.

"Now get off me and let's go down the pub and have a pork pie, chips and gravy and a pint of the local ale; I'm famished," she pushed Archie off her and reached for her knickers.

"You'll get fat eating like that," Archie teased, admiring her as she stepped into fresh panties.

"Fat chance. I've got a partner who works me out every chance he can get while we're away from home," she smiled cheekily at him.

"Come to think of it a pork pie sounds good. We can work it off later," Archie leapt from the bed and slapped Sandra playfully on the bottom.

*****

May 1985

Charlotte ruminated on what she and Wendy had discussed as she flicked through the folder containing the information she had researched about gender reassignment.

Robert was correct in that as soon as she announced to her parents that she would be living her life permanently as a women she would be disowned. Her family and the few friends she had would want nothing to do with her and no reputable company would employ her, people talked of tolerance all the time but seldom practiced it.

She had formulated a plan and was about to execute it. First off Charles had been siphoning off his allowances and any money that he received as gifts. Charlotte needed money... lots of money.

Wendy's offer of prostitution had at first repulsed her but having endured servicing the Bridge House council for weeks before Robert had rescued her and taken her for his own had hardened her. She could put with another year and half of servicing randy young men provided she was being paid well. When she left college she would put it all behind her.

She would travel somewhere overseas and have surgery; initially probably just breast implants and possibly a tracheal shave and then she would come back to England and change her identity. She would not be able to legally change the gender on her birth certificate but she could change her name by deed poll and identify as being female. Life was going to be difficult but bearable.

But first things first. One: graduate with honours. This would not be difficult; Charles was performing in the top ten percentile. Two: amass a 'war chest'. She needed enough money to travel, undertake some gender reassignment surgery and to live on until she could obtain gainful employment.

Charlotte had Wendy arrange a meeting with Wayne Jenkins and Steven Belfour-Brown at the inner sanctum. The offer of whatever sexual favours the men desired ensured their attendance.

She and Wendy transformed in the privy and for Charlotte it bought back old memories. Wendy proposed they just dress in lingerie but Charlotte insisted that they dress properly; it was to be a business meeting as much as it was a sexual assignation.

"Hello gentlemen, it's been a while," Charlotte strutted out from behind the curtain that hung outside the privy.

She was dressed in a black leather miniskirt, tight satin blouse and heels. Her makeup was dramatic and a miasma of perfume preceded her. Wendy came out behind her dressed equally provocatively. Wayne and Steven were naked under the silk robes they wore.

"Let's sit and have drink and a chat before we get down to having some fun," Charlotte gave them an alluring smile.

She deliberately opened her legs when she sat down, showing off her pink satin knickers, getting the men to notice her. Steven arranged drinks for everyone and Charlotte took a cigarette when one was offered.

"Wendy tells me that the three of you have been making a steady income by offering her services for money and has asked me to join your enterprise," Charlotte began.

"You would be surprised how many of the students are willing to pay for sexual services with a pretty transvestite. You know how they think; if she's wearing a skirt and looks like a girl then she is a girl for all intents and purposes. They aren't doing anything gay," Steven sniggered.

"Just like you used to say that if you don't kiss me or fuck me it's not gay," Charlotte smirked.

"Hey... you know how it is. Moral compasses swing," Steven's grin widened.

"Ok look I'm in but you're thinking small beer when we could be making some real money. To start with Wendy and I can't work out of our dorms. It's too restrictive and we're going to get caught eventually and besides I bet we can drum up more customers if us girls offer our wares away from the dormitories," Charlotte took a drag of her cigarette while she let what she had said sink in.

"We don't need more money," Wayne Jenkins took a long pull on his beer.

"Everyone needs more money honey. And you guys don't need to do much; us girls will be doing all the work. All you need to do is provide us with protection and give us access to the Bridge House canteen stores," Charlotte continued.

She held up a finger when the men began to protest.

"I'm thinking we are going to run a proper brothel... a knocking shop. We sell booze and keep the punters comfortable while they are waiting their turn with the girls. Almost like a gentleman's club."

"You're fucking joking!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Look. I'm a cross country runner and during my rambles around the forest surrounding the college I've noticed a couple of abandoned buildings. I scoped out the old groundsman's cottage and it's the best of a bad lot and perfect for our needs," Charlotte explained.

"That mouldy old decrepit dump! There's no way I'm hawking my arse in there!" Wendy turned down her mouth.

"That's why it's perfect! We want it to look like a mouldy, old, decrepit dump from the outside. We renovate the inside. Nothing too flash, just make it like a party house with a couple of serviceable bedrooms. Once we get it set up we advertise our wares and start making money," Charlotte grinned enthusiastically.

"Even if we were to agree to this you forgot about old Quinn. He prowls those woods like they're his own personal game preserve. Didn't he used to live in that cottage?" Wayne observed.

"He certainly did until a few years ago when the cost of maintaining the outbuildings became more expensive than paying him a rental allowance on top of his wage. He now rents digs in town. We actually reviewed the cost benefit analysis of outsourcing the college's ground maintenance as part of our course study. The college sacked all of the live-in maintenance staff and took on contractors. Quinn was the only one who stayed on as the contact manager and quality control officer."

"But you're right. He spends most of his time in the woods poaching and drinking. I've seen him plenty of times during my runs. I've asked him to meet Wendy and I at the cottage tomorrow afternoon. I'll be enfemme Wendy will not," Charlotte stated.

"You've got a cheek," Wayne Jenkins looked annoyed.

"It's a simple business proposition. You expand and innovate or your business withers on the vine," Charlotte arose and started to unbutton her blouse.

"Now you boys wanna talk all night or are we going to get down to some sucking and fucking," Charlotte kicked her skirt aside.

*****

Charles and William arrived at the groundsman's cottage and gave it a final inspection. The utilities were still connected which was a bonus but the place would need some urgent minor repairs. The beds in the two bedrooms were still serviceable but the bedding was mouldy and would need to be replaced. The bathroom needed a good clean and sanitisation, the kitchen the same.

The lounge still contained some old furniture that would be useable once it was cleaned.

"Look, the place is a dump but we only need to put effort into the furniture and fittings and do a general cleanup. We advertise it as a gentleman's club but let's face it the lads are coming here to get pissed and shag. It will do," Charlotte said.

"Here comes Quinn. I had no choice but to tell him what we are up to but he's onboard and is coming to negotiate a price. I'm going to transform, you stay on as William and keep me safe," Charles picked up his backpack and headed into one of the bedrooms and emerged fifteen minutes later as Charlotte.

And not a minute too late as Quinn had arrived and the negotiations began in earnest. After haggling for thirty minutes a consensus was agreed.

"So it's agreed then; twenty quid a week," Charlotte said opening her purse.

"Twenty quid and a taste," the groundsman smiled, showing his broken teeth.

William shuddered.

"No! You don't get a taste. We'll give you twenty five quid and you can spend it at the railway underpass in Chelmsford," William replied, referring to the place where the local streetwalkers plied their trade.

"Let's not quibble. Twenty quid and a taste once a week but not from the others, only from me," Charlotte replied holding out the note.

Quinn looked Charlotte up and down, his eyes crawling over her, like he was inspecting a broodmare.

"You'll do," Quinn grunted snatching the note from her hand.

He began to struggle with his belt.

"What on earth are you doing?" William was aghast.

"I'm having my taste aren't I?" Quinn grunted as he was finally able to unbuckle his pants.

They pooled around his calves. His trousers were so embedded with grime that they were as stiff as cardboard.

"Let me take care of this William. You stand guard outside and make sure we're not disturbed," Charlotte said calmly.

When Quinn's reeking underpants joined his trousers around his ankles William was glad to leave. The smell was awful and he couldn't bear to watch what Charlotte was about to do.

Charlotte dropped to her knees and put her hands on Quinn's pale, muscled thighs to steady herself. She took a deep breath and leaned forward.