One More Sunset Pt. 04

"Grab the fake spider-web stuff." Savannah pointed to some of the decorations, so I grabbed them and threw them in the cart. "Kate called me yesterday. I think I forgot to tell you this! I was at the diner, and she mentioned that she was going to bring some food. Something spooky. And she mentioned her costume choice and I loved it." We turned and walked down another aisle of the local Halloween store.

The party was tomorrow night. Halloween night was upon us, and the preparations were in order. In the week building up to the party, Savannah had called some of her friends, I tried to invite a few of mine, but Kate was the only one that would be showing up. We had even extended an invite to Morgan, but he had declined saying, "Halloween was a special night for him, and Creepshow." Nobody knew what that meant, but Savannah said she understood, so I assumed it must be some movie or something like it.

Our original costume idea had morphed a bit for both of us. Rather than going as me, she had wanted to go as me when I was playing hockey. So, before our decoration trip, we stopped by my flat and grabbed a hockey jersey I had for the St. Louis Blues. To compliment it, I had an old hockey stick and helmet. Savannah's outfit was more or less complete. She said she would add some final touches to it later.

Likewise, I was still going as Savannah, but we both agreed I needed to amp it up a little. I had originally suggested it, but now it was a concrete idea. We had ordered a corset on Amazon, along with some fake tits, and they were slated to arrive today, so hopefully they were waiting for us back at her place. Despite our initial shopping trip to the mall, I had never really worn any of the clothes that weren't bras or panties. I had never touched the skirt, nor the dresses Savannah had added to the collection. Tomorrow I would be in full drag for the first time, and I had never even worn a dress before. Despite this, we still added to the collection regularly. I think we both knew that Halloween night would pop some type of bubble for us both.

"Hey Savannah," I asked, "tonight can we do a costume check for me? I've never worn a dress before, and I'm not even sure how to walk or sit in it."

"Of course, Evan. Want to do a make-up run as well?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Savannah stopped dead in her tracks. "We never got our nails done. Oh my gosh, after this, we are going straight there."

"Do we have time to do a nail salon run?"

"We'll make time. I'm not about to try and work on your nasty feet for the first time. I'll leave that to the professionals. Please tell me you kept your nails longer! I remember half mentioning it a couple weeks ago."

I flashed her my fingers, where the nails were actually longer than I had ever had them. They fully extended over the edges of my fingertips. "As long as I can wash it off for class the on Monday, I'm fine."

Savannah nodded and added, "What color are we thinking? My jersey is blue, but do I want blue or gold? Shit, did we decide which dress of mine you were going to wear?"

"I don't think so. You weren't sure if you wanted me in an old prom dress, or a black formal one."

Savannah furled her lips, and she said, "Maybe you don't need to go as me tonight. I know that was the idea, but if you're 'slutting' it up for the night, we can see what they have here. She winked at me, and we made our way toward the costume part of the store. In the past weeks, when we went to stores together, the dynamic had flipped completely. Initially, Savannah would pull clothes off of the racks and suggest them for me. Then I started pulling some alongside her. Now I grabbed at everything, but Savannah only acted as the gladiator emperor. A simple thumbs up or down for casting her vote.

"What type of night is this?" I added, "Are your friends actually dressing up, or are the guys wearing a cowboy hat only."

"It's a costume-first type of party. Everyone has been strictly instructed to go all-out."

"Okay. Well let's see what we've got here." I threw my hand through my hair. It was starting to get long enough for me to want a haircut, but I had grown it longer in high school. It now touched my shoulders as it curled. I'd yet to straighten it, but I imagined it went another two inches past my shoulders without the curls. "They've got some doctors, nuns, sexy princesses. If you're a hockey player, what's the sexy counterpart to that? The referee?"

"Not the ref, but I know what it could be." Savannah pointed to my left, and she said. "That's the one."

---

"Which color did you want for your toes?" The nail lady asked me with some disgust and frustration. I wasn't sure if it was because of a bad day, or if because I was a man getting his nails done.

"I want a French-Tip for the nails." Savannah sat in the chair next to me as they were already applying the first coat of a deep blue that would match her jersey perfectly.

As the lady grabbed the bottle then turned to retrieve some work, she began to work away on my toes. During the pedicure, I struggled to not laugh as my toes and feet were tickled. Savannah had her earphones in and was listening to some movie review podcast, so I was left to my own wits. For the last few days, I had a stampede of butterflies trapped within my stomach. I was giddy, and nervous. I wanted to throw up, but I was excited! This was strange and fun and something memorable for me to look back on. I could grab a photo from that night and laugh about the time I went all out on Halloween. I wondered what Savannah was thinking about all of this. Was she as nervous as I was at times? For her, was having this ever-descending effeminate boyfriend enough to satisfy her in this relationship? Did she want a real man the way I sometimes wanted to be for her?

A few weeks ago, I had a dream we had broken up, and Savannah had laughed at me as she threw the nights of crossdressing back at me, as if it had been a ploy to humiliate me. When I had woken up, I turned to see her curled up alongside me, and I knew that she would never look at this relationship that way if things turned out poorly. For me however, I wondered how this was look for me in hindsight. I couldn't remember the last time I had worn my own boxers. Savannah wore my boxers around some days, but I personally hadn't worn them in weeks. Maybe three times a week I was walking around in public with a sports bra on, and I wondered how problematic this was. Ultimately, this was some form of fetishistic enjoyment for Savannah and I, but I wasn't transexual, nor had I ever questioned those feelings or expressions. Yet, there was something more comfortable about it when I was with her. Gender fluid... I had heard that term before, but I had never put much thought into it. Realistically, I loved doing all of these culturally feminine things, especially with Savannah, but did I feel that the feminine or masculine traits pulled me more one way than the other?

"All done."

Savannah was admiring her blue toes as her person had left, but my nail lady finished my toes and was packing up her equipment.

"Head to the tables for fingers."

Savannah looked at my toes and squealed softly. "Oh babe. Evan, those look so good!"

I looked down, and my toes were brilliant. The French-Tip was so beautiful.

"Are you going to match your fingers?"

"I imagine so. What would you do?"

"If it comes out half as good as your toes, then that French-Tip will fucking kill. Go for it!"

We walked over to the desks, and the nail lady again seemed frustrated to be working on my nails. "Same thing?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And what shape?"

Savannah cut in, "Almond for him, please!" She popped her headphones back in and let her nail lady go to work.

My nail lady grunted and started on my nails. Paying some attention this time, I watched her cut my nails to the shape of "almond," and I wondered what shape cashew looked like. She dipped my nails into some powder, which I didn't realize was a part of the nail polish job. I assumed it was only nail polish. Each of my nails were slowly glossed, then with pin-point accuracy, a fine white extension was added over the top. She went at them a few times with clear coats and the dips before it was all said and done.

My questions about myself continued into the nail reveal, because when I saw how wonderful they looked, I genuinely lost my breath for a moment. I didn't know I could be so proud of the way I presented myself, even if it was pretty girly.

Finally, she finished Savannah's shortly after, and as Savannah opened her eyes to look at her blue and gold accent nails, she smiled brilliantly. Then she looked over to mine and her eyes were wide with happiness, then they reshaped into mild horror.

She caught my nail lady's attention, "Excuse me! Ma'am?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you dip his nails?"

"Yes, that's what you asked me to do."

I could see Savannah's face drop. "Um, okay." She looked to me, and seemed as if she was about to present some terrible news. "I'll fill you in when we get to the car."

We paid, and as we stepped outside carefully, I looked at my nails to wonder what was wrong. I didn't see any issues or chips. Was the powder bad for me or like an allergen?

I jumped in the driver's seat and Savannah sunk into the passenger's seat.

"Don't hate me, okay?" She covered her face with her hands and slunk further down into the seat.

"I'll try not to. What's wrong?"

"So, with regular nail polish, we can just take it off with remover and its no big deal. The powder dip that she did to yours... Well, we can't just take it off. If we tried right now, the adhesive is so strong that it'd likely really damage your fingernails, and I've heard some pretty nasty stories about it."

"Okay, that's not so bad. How many days do we have to wait. We've got the weekend, and I'm okay with going to class on Monday if I needed to with them still glammed up."

"It'd be a little more than a couple of days."

I pressed politely, "How long are we talking?"

"Maybe 5-6 weeks."

I looked down to my beautiful nails, and the idea of having these until nearly Christmas was hilarious. I laughed in disbelief.

Savannah said through her hands. "We just have to let the adhesive wear down and then we can come back to take them off. If we go too early, then it can rip off the nail."

"A month and some change—"

I laughed again, and Savannah sat in an awkward silence as she tried to read my reaction, but I genuinely found it hilarious. I looked over and said, "You better make this up to me big time."

Savannah nervously laughed alongside me. We probably looked insane to the people walking by, but all I could do was laugh. At least I hadn't gone with bright pink or something crazy. The simple white on the end wasn't too bad. I just wish my nails weren't almost an inch long.

---

I had wanted to tear open the Amazon package as we arrived, but my nails changed that. I found scissors and cut into the packaging. Savannah returned from the bathroom and grabbed a seltzer from the fridge and cracked it open. She sipped back some and then brough it to my lips. I gulped back the alcohol, and she set the drink on the counter. I pulled out the corset first, and I held it up for Savannah to look at.

"Gorgeous babe. Gorgeous!"

"Why thank you! It's the nails, isn't it?"

"They really bring your whole persona together." Savannah clapped her hands and said, "REVEAL THE TITTIES!"

In the box, staring back at me, two B-cup fake boobs sat awaiting my hands to grab.

"Wait, close your eyes. Do you just want to see them, or do you want me to throw them in the bra?"

Savannah shut her eyes and said, "Oh shit. Good question. Throw one in my hands! I want to see how realistic they feel!" She extended her hand and awaited the tit.

I cackled as I dropped it into her hand, and her eyes almost popped out of her head. "Oh... Oh my... Um, those feel, REALLY real." Savannah's other hand went to her own boob, "Yeah, these are kinda insane. Come here! Do a test comparison."

At a first impression, the fake boob felt identical to hers, and it had the same weight and bounce. "I can't tell. That's so weird."

"Boobs are a 'check' for the costume! Pop them in! I reached into my shirt, and I placed the fake boobs into my sports bra, and I actually felt like I had boobs. I'm sure it looked that way as well.

"Wait a second." I went to the bedroom and traded bras for a real one. I had only worn them empty, and I was so curious to see how they filled out. I hooked the back of the bra, and my boobs looked so good, despite being fake. Walking back out, I did a spin for Savannah wearing only the bra and thong. She let out a holler and whistle for me.

"Oh baby," Savannah's arms opened up and I walked into an embrace and sloppy kiss. "You're the sexiest bitch I've ever seen. Ready for the corset? It'll take a few minutes to fasten it up."

"Let's do it!" I handed her the corset, and she stood up and pulled it around my body, and then she stood behind me fidgeting away at the strings.

As she started to line it up, Savannah said, "Stand up straight you slut. This doesn't work all slouched.

I shot up, and my breasts pushed out far enough that I couldn't see my penis anymore. More often than not, I looked down to find my dick tucked between my legs. I was still having the issue with my balls popping out of my panties, but what could I do?

She pulled on a string and the bottom of the corset tightened. I felt a little air go out of my lungs. Then another cord, and a few more followed. I couldn't see my body, but it felt tighter and smaller than ever before. A few minutes later, Savannah had pulled the corset tightly to the top, and wove the strings back together. The wire frames on the side held my body firmly, and I was curious how it looked.

"Fuck, Evan."

"What?" I turned to her.

"You look so sexy. You're drop-dead fucking beautiful. Go to the bathroom and see it in the mirror."

As I started to walk, I felt my back wouldn't slouch at all, and my breaths were much shorter than before. In front of the mirror, my breath was truly taken away. I was curved like an hourglass, and it looked so natural. Savannah walked up beside me, and we had the same curves.

"I'm so wet looking at you. Are you hard?"

"No, not right now."

Savannah smiled and said, "Good. Let's try that."

"What?"

"Don't get hard. Stay soft for me," Savannah walked close and whispered in my ear, "you little bitch. Turn around and face the mirror."

She drove me crazy all the time, but especially so when she commanded me around. I looked at the mirror, and Savannah moved behind me. I felt her body press against my backside, and her hands crawled around my now curved waist and held me how I had always held her.

"Bend over, slut."

I leaned over, but my back wouldn't give, so I had to arc my back to not fall over as I bent over. She pressed her pussy against my ass, and I let out a moan from somewhere that shocked us both.

"What was that," she asked?"

"I don't know, but do that again."

Savannah pulled my body against hers, and she thrusted slightly at me. I looked into the mirror, and Savannah was watching me closely. As she stepped away, she spanked my ass and said, "Come on slut. We've got a house to decorate."

---

"Kate just texted me and said she's five minutes out!" Savannah hollered out from the kitchen. Savannah's phone had never stopped ringing from the moment we woke up.

"What's the address again?" "Can I bring my girlfriend?" Can I bring Jason's girlfriend?" "Is it a themed party?" "What food can I bring?"

For future parties, I made a mental note to not bombard the host with a million questions all day long.

I stood motionless in front of the mirror, still frozen with admiration over Savannah's work on me. From top-to-bottom, I truly could have modeled what this costume could look like at its best. I looked like the picturesque version of a cheerleader.

As speculated, my hair when straightened was longer than my shoulders, but it actually fell to the nipples of my fake boobs. I hadn't realized how curly my hair naturally was. Throughout my hair, Savannah had tied some tassels to it that added to the full effect of a cheerleader. Savannah had spent nearly an hour finalizing my make-up, and every second had been worth it. My foundation was perfectly toned and mixed to my face, and small sparkles shimmered over my skin. The eyeliner was drawn to a piercing point, and the black became blue at its sharp end, where she even took time to draw small Blues' Notes on my cheeks beside my eyes. My mascara was perfectly layered out without any clumps or smudging, and she had even worked on my eyebrows a bit. The plucking wasn't pleasant, but with them colored, they looked so full and wonderous. My cheeks were a little overdone with blush, but it matched my bright red lipstick and lipliner, so overall it was perfect. Then came the outfit. The blue and white pleated dress was short, and I was genuinely worried about flashing people, but Savannah had me put on a pair of Spanx underneath to prevent it. She showed me how to sit, how to smooth it out when standing, and how to bend over to prevent it from riding up or flashing the crowd. While the Spanx gave me some relief in not showing my thong to everyone, it really tucked away my dick. I even felt my balls go back up with the pressure, and as I had rubbed at it, I effectively was as flat as a woman in my genitals. But it was tough to consider moving so much, because my corset was pulling me together to rival the Dallas Cowboys' cheerleading team. Adding to the slut factor, we had cut into the chest a little to show off the cleavage, which Savannah had managed to use some make-up tricks to really add a visual cleavage to the outfit. What I hadn't expected was to shave my legs and armpits, but Savannah convinced me otherwise. Exfoliating, moisturizing, shaving. It took about an hour to fully remove my leg hair, but now they glowed with the moisturizer that Savannah had rubbed on my legs. Realistically, we were running behind because that leg massage had turned into a quickie for both of us, but it had been worth it.

"Did you hear me?" Savannah walked in behind me in her hockey jersey, and I couldn't have been more confused by us side-by-side. She had put in some fake shoulder pads for the gear, and painted some stubble on her face to give the presence of real facial hair. Even up close it looked pretty good for a paintjob. As she walked past me with her body posture tall and bulky, she surrounded my compressed and small figure. She walked behind me and put her arms around my body. "Damn baby, you taken?" Savannah talked with a deeper voice to sound like a man. "You wanna be my little ice-girl?" I turned around and leaned against the counter as she leaned into me and kissed me, but she was careful not to mess up either of our make-up. "Kate will be here in five. You ready? Nervous?"

"Yes. Oh God, yes, I'm so nervous!"

"Just have fun Evan! Here, let's go have a shot to calm you down!"

We walked into the living room to find a masterful combination of homages to Savannah's favorite movies. A toy shark floated in a spiked punch bowl. Cans of split pea soup were lined up behind the drinks to serve as a type of background. I told Savannah nobody would understand that reference. A fake axe was fastened into the door to look like The Shining. She painted her physical clock orange. Styrofoam tomb stones lined the windowsills of her favorite horror directors. She also put Tom Hooper on a stone saying, "Cats is only to be acknowledged as a horror movie. To cap it off, she had her TV playing Dawn of the Dead from 1978. A stack of blu-rays were next to the player, and three dozen horror movies were available for whatever the party wanted in the background. Spiderwebs coated the cabinets and ceiling. Orange and purple lightbulbs were replacing the normal bulbs. Small pumpkins were resting in random places around the room. It was safe to say that Halloween was Savannah's favorite holiday.