The Door to Door Stocking Salesman Ch. 02

"You know, I don't really mind what you do with the clothes you get ere' you know. Before the war I lived in London and used to go to some special interest clubs, if you know what I mean," he winked at Mike.

"I have no idea what you mean!" Mike snapped back.

"Yeah, ya do; you're blushing like a virgin on her wedding night," Mr Billson chuckled.

"That's ok though; I just got to thinking, and I could see how a bloke you; dressed properly and with a wig and makeup, could carry it off."

"I have no idea what you're talking about you silly man!" Mike snapped back.

"Sure; well if you ever want to get together over a pint, or something; just remember I'm ok with that sort of thing," Mr Billson winked at Mike again and wondered back to the tea trolley.

Mike was astounded. He might have guessed that some of the volunteers had noticed him knocking off the odd garment here and there but he never dreamt that any of them would confront him. It served him right really, he was too absorbed in the reverie of what he was going to get up to tomorrow. He would normally never hold up a garment for appraisal like he did today; the bustiere would normally surreptitiously disappear off the table and end up in his satchel to be thoroughly inspected in the privacy of his home.

Mrs McGuire returned from the loo and they got back to work. The altercation over the bustiere was not mentioned again, and at knock off time they packed up the tables for the day and got ready to leave. As Mike walked out of the Oxfam and started heading down to the bus stop, he was approached by Mr Billson again.

"Look Mike if I'm wrong about my presumption, well, I'm sorry; but I don't think I am," he said.

"And I meant what I said; I'm ok with that sort of thing and would be willing to talk with you more about it," he said, winked at Mike, and walked away.

Mike was puzzled by exactly what Mr Billson meant. Was he crossdresser too? Was he a man who liked to consort with crossdressers? Mike would have to give this situation some careful thought. He caught the bus and sat down and looked at his watch and had a horrible feeling that he had forgotten to do something important. What had totally slipped Mike's mind was that he was supposed to go to the accounting section of the Midlands Lingerie and Fashion Garment Distribution Company and pick up last weeks sales ledgers.

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Mike had a profitable morning and had made some good sales; he was looking forward to some serious fun with Mrs Rodgers this afternoon. He sat in the Moseley Arms public house with the ledger book addressed to Michael Rodgers in front of him, sipping a pint and eating a cheese sandwich and pondered the conundrum regarding Mr and Mrs Rodgers and the house at 162 Sovereign Way. It just didn't make sense that Michele Rodgers would let him fuck her feet and then arrange a meeting for the same time next week if it was at all likely that Mr Rodgers would return home during the afternoon.

He thought back to his meeting with Mike Rodgers at the garment distribution company last Friday. He recalled their conversation:

"Have we met before; you seem familiar?" Brain had asked and Mike had answered, "No I don't think so; but you can never tell; it's a small world."

Something didn't sit right! Mike had blushed and stammered when they were introduced. Did Mike know him? Did Mike know that Brian had been at his house last Tuesday? Did Mike know that Brian had foot-fucked his wife? What the fuck was going on at 162 Sovereign Way? He played it over in his mind.

Suddenly Mike choked and spat out a mouthful of cheese sandwich and bitter ale.

"Fucking hell!!!" he exclaimed.

The punters in the pub looked at him disapprovingly and the publican gave him a stern stare. Mike raised his hands in apology to the lunchtime crowd and went back to his rumination.

Chris; that was it!!! Michele Rodgers was big, but well proportioned, and she had that deep throaty voice. When he compared the images in head of Michael and Michele Rodgers they looked too much alike for coincidence. They were either brother and sister, or, Michael Rodgers was also Michele Rodgers.

"Fucking hell!!!" he exclaimed again and immediately apologised to the patrons and the publican.

Michele Rodgers was a transvestite! Brian Macklin had been given a footjob by and kissed a man! He pondered that for a few minutes and was surprised that he wasn't disgusted with himself. It wasn't as though he'd been with some bloke in suit and tie; he was no homo. He'd been with a sexy woman who just happened to have male genitalia! He rationalised this further. He had a raging stocking and lingerie fetish and had tried on the garments himself occasionally. Brian didn't have the urge to dress up like a woman, but he had to admit that Michele looked sexy hell.

So what to do now? That was the question!

He had a number of options open to him. He could continue on as if he knew nothing; he could confront Michele with the truth; he could just never go back to the house at 162 Sovereign Way; or he could even blackmail Michael Rodgers and threaten him with exposure. It was quite a conundrum. Bugger it! He would keep his appointment with Michele this afternoon and see how it played out. He felt himself begin to thicken down there in anticipation.

Brian finished his pint. Left the pub, after again apologising to the publican for his outburst, and caught the bus that would take him to Sovereign Way. He plotted and schemed and played out various scenarios in his head but he had to admit that the more he thought about the situation the more he became aroused. He'd never given any great thought about what it might be like to have sex with a transvestite; he'd always had plenty of willing women. But he had to admit that Michele was not only sexy, the way she dressed and spoke, she had also demonstrated a particular aptitude when it came to satisfying his fetish.

Brian stopped briefly at a chemist and by the time he knocked on the door of 162 Sovereign Way he was sporting a fierce erection and had formulated a strategy regarding how he was going to deal with Michele Rodgers.

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Tuesday morning and Mike had a nagging feeling that he had forgotten something important. Then it dawned on him. Fuck!!! He was supposed to go into the Midlands Lingerie and Fashion Garment Distribution Company yesterday and pick up the sales ledgers. He looked at his watch. Shit!!! Ten o'clock; there was no way he could make it into Birmingham and get home again before his afternoon sware. He decided he would keep his tryst with the salesman and then call Mr Tilsbury later in the afternoon to apologise. If he rang now, Tilsbury was likely to demand that Mike come to the firm and collect the ledger and Mike was anticipating transforming into Michele and having a pleasant afternoon with Brian Macklin. Mike allowed his mind to transform from his male persona to Michele as he prepared for the encounter.

Michele poured herself a bath and shed her male attire and then lowered herself into the hot frothy water. She closely shaved her face using a hand held shaving mirror and a new razorblade. She ran her hands all over her chest, arms, legs and buttocks and shaved away any stubble she found.

She dried herself off and sat at the dresser and applied foundation, finishing powder, blush and lashings of mascara, eyeliner and eyeshadow. She painted her lips with two coats of ruby red lipstick. She pulled on her favourite brunette, shoulder length, wig and adjusted it so that the fringe came to her eyebrows. She stepped into a pair of red satin full-cut panties and pulled them tight around her buttocks and tucked her penis under the gusset. Then she stepped into the black satin and lace, open-bottom, bustiere and laced up at the back with some difficulty. The bustiere cinched her waist and gave her an hourglass figure, accentuating her full hips. She slipped her homemade breastforms into the cups and admired herself in mirror.

Michele opened a package of seamless, flesh-toned, fifteen denier stockings and rolled them up her legs attaching them to the four garters on each side of the bodice of her waist cincher. She had selected a charcoal grey business suit with a knee length pencil skirt with rear kick pleat and a white silk long sleeved blouse. She liked the idea of wearing the risqué bustiere under the conservative suit. She stepped into black, four-inch high heel pumps and accessorised herself with gold earrings, necklace and bangles. She fastened a gold chain anklet around her left ankle.

She sprayed a liberal amount of perfume on her décolletage and under her skirt and picked up her bottle of red nail polish and went downstairs to the lounge. She poured herself a glass of red wine and lit a Woodbine and glanced at the mantle clock. She had half an hour to do her nails before Brian was due to call; providing he was on time of course. Almost exactly thirty minutes later there was a knock on the door. Michele pulled a curtain to one side and peeked out. Brian Macklin, the door to door stocking salesman, stood on her doorstep.

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Brian was very impressed with what greeted him at the door of 162 Sovereign Way; this woman (well not really) knew exactly how to dress to get him excited. From her heavily made up face, to her wide hips, to her sexy legs and large but elegant feet, she exuded sex. She didn't say anything, but curled a red painted fingernail at him beckoning him inside.

Brian's eyes locked on her ample bottom, the kick pleat of her pencil skirt inviting his gaze to lock on her shimmering sleek nyloned legs and sexy black high heels. He slammed the door closed behind him and followed Michele into the lounge. Part of the strategy that Brian had fabricated to deal with Michele the transvestite was to think of her only as a woman. If you looked closely at her you could see some of the give away signs: she was large framed, had big feet, a husky voice and an Adam's apple; but dressed the way she was, her feminine charms far outweighed any evidence of masculinity. Besides, regardless of anything else, she was just downright sexy!

Michele reminded herself of her own strategy for dealing with Brian; she would let him do what he liked, to a certain extent, but he was not to touch the front of her body between the neck and thighs.

Brian put his sample case on the coffee table and they sat on the couch, a little nervous and awkward with each other. Brian spoke first.

"Nice stockings Michele; they're Wolford Perlons seamless aren't they?"

"Yes they are; a donation from your sample case last week," Michele answered.

After thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence Brian moved in towards Michele and kissed her gently on the lips, his hands on her shoulders. The kisses became hotter and they were soon mingling tongues and grinding lips; Brian pushed Michele down on the couch and his hand fell to her stocking sheathed legs and he stroked and pawed at them.

"You'll ladder my stockings," Michele panted breathlessly into his mouth.

"It's not like I can't replace them," Brian laughed and pounced on her again, firmly kissing her and snaking his hand under her skirt.

Brian's hand smoothed over the welt of her stocking onto her garter strap and continued up her thigh towards her panties and Michele struggled and tried to push his hand away.

"No Luv; don't do that!" she instructed him.

"Why not luv; I bet you're wearing lovely knickers and I'd love to have a feel of them," Brian begged, knowing full well why Michele didn't want him touching her there.

"Please Brian; you can do what ever you want to my legs and bum but you can't touch me there," Michele replied in her husky breathless voice.

"Ok then; let's get yer skirt and blouse off so I can enjoy what's on offer," Brian pleaded, knowing full well that Michele would not acquiesce.

Michele decided it was time to be more assertive to keep Brian away from the parts of her body that she didn't want him to touch. She hadn't thought it would be this difficult to control him. Michele forced Brian away and pushed him back onto the lounge.

"Here; let me take the lead for a while," she giggled, trying to slow things down.

She straddled his lap, the seams and kick pleat of her skirt stretching to the limit and forcing it to ride up her thighs. She took off Brian's jacket and tie and folded them over the back of the couch. She unbuttoned his shirt and raked her nails across his chest as she leaned into him and kissed him passionately. Brian responded and slid his tongue into Michele's mouth and wrapped his arms around her inhaling her scent and tasting her mouth.

Michele decided that she had better continue to take the lead; rational thinking told her that she shouldn't touch another man's penis, but she was so excited that the very idea of touching Brian's erection for the first was highly exciting. She looked down and saw his cock tenting the front of his trousers just in front of where her thighs straddled his. She lowered a hand and felt the hard bulge of his phallus through the material of his trousers.

Brian was delightfully surprised when Michele took the initiative straddling him and allowing her skirt to ride up high on her thighs. While she removed his jacket and tie he stroked her thighs and then returned her kisses and embraced her. She was so sexy, he could taste her lipstick, and her perfume was driving him heady. He decided to allow her to take the lead for a while; but soon he was going to show her that her ruse was up. When she grasped his erection though his trousers he emitted a low growl from deep down in his throat.

Michele fumbled at Brian's flies, encumbered by his hard cock pushing at the material of his trousers and his fly buttons. She was aware that in a few seconds she would be touching another man's penis for the very first time. She had thought that the act would be repulsive; but in fact the opposite was the case, she was becoming highly aroused at the prospect.

Finally she popped open the buttons on Brian's flies and her hand groped inside his trousers and found the sleek hard shaft and bulbous head of his penis. The musky smell of an aroused male sex organ wafted from his flies and her nostrils flared like a woman in heat. She slid her hand down until she felt his pubic hair, then through the coarse hair to the base of his cock. Michele slid her open hand up one side of his cock and down the other. It felt foreign; hot and hard, but with a soft smooth surface.

She intertwined the fingers of both hands around the base of his cock and then slid them up the length of it, and rubbed her thumbs over the head. Each time she brushed the tip of his cock, Brian gasped a little. Brian's response was highly stimulating and she moaned into his mouth as she kissed him passionately, her lipstick smearing on his mouth. She raked her red painted nails along the smooth shank of his erection and felt his penis pulse and strain, the thick veins bulging prominently along the smooth shaft. Michele started to stroke his cock like that, using both hands on his penis. Brian grunted and started raising his hips to meet her downward strokes. He began to fuck Michele's hands. Michele looked down at Brian's cock moving in and out of her hands when he gently eased her mouth from his and spoke.

"Michele, hold on a minute please; I don't want to come yet" he pleaded

She stopped stroking, but didn't take her hands off his cock. She could feel it pulsing in her hands. Michele decided that she was going to bring on Brian's orgasm, she was very excited by the experience of touching another man's cock, but she was also determined that this was as far as she would ever go with another man. She had drawn a line in the sand in her mind; masturbation was ok, but anything else would be perverted.

Michele held Brian's shaft lightly in her fingers and rubbed his glans across the welt of her stocking. Brain groaned and pulled her face back to his and thrust his tongue inside her hot, wet mouth. Brian was intensely stimulated by Michele's ministrations but he was still in control. He was letting her take the lead for a while but he was determined that this bitch was going to find out who was ultimately in charge; she would soon learn that he knew her all about her secret.

Brian guided one of Michele's hands back to his cock and bought the other to his chest. She needed no more urging and she groaned at her hand came in contact his erection and the fingernails of her other hand scoured his chest. She gently took Brian's cock in her fingers and began to slowly traipse her fingers around it, over its length and then back down the shaft. She then placed the hard flesh of his penis against the soft; nylon encased flesh of her thigh and rolled it against the diaphanous material of her stocking.

Brian humped at Michele's leg, his glans secreting a thin silvery thread of pre-seminal fluid that glistened on the dark welt of Michele's stocking. He was building to his orgasm, not yet close enough that he couldn't control it, but he wanted release, and it would not be against her legs or her feet as much as she thought it might be. Brian had other plans for Michele Rodgers.

Brian continued to kiss and embrace Michele but he snaked one hand away from her and reached for his jacket. He fumbled around until his fingers found one of the pockets; they closed around a small glass jar. Brian extracted the jar from the pocket and with some difficulty, he one-handedly unscrewed the lid. He put his fingers inside the jar and scooped up a dollop of the contents and bought his hand down to his erection, and easing Michele's fingers out of the way, he smeared his shaft with a generous coating of Vaseline jelly.

Michele was initially confused when Brian pushed her had away from his cock; at first she thought he just wanted her to stop stimulating him for a while. Then she felt him take his own shaft in his hand and she broke away from the kiss and looked down at his lap. Brian's fierce erection stood out proud of his trousers, the glans an angry red. It was glistening with a coat of viscous emulsion. Then the odour of the Vaseline wafted up to her and she realised what it was. Did he want more lubrication? Wasn't his pre-seminal fluid lubrication enough? Did he have a fetish for Vaseline as well as nylons?

Brian moved his hands to Michele's thighs and pushed at her skirt until it was rucked around her buttocks and then slid his hands under her buttocks and lifted her up. He pulled her towards him and pushed his groin forward.

Michele suddenly realised what Brain was doing; he was trying to fuck her! My god! What would happen when he found out she was a man! Would he be disgusted? Would he hit her? Would he scream abuse at her? Would he tell everyone her secret? Michele began to panic and tried to squirm free.

"No, no, no, no, no, nooooooooooooo!" she screamed.

"We can't do this. Put me down! Put me down Brian!" she begged.

"Oh don't worry Michele, we can and we are going to do this!" Brian hissed.

Brian's fingers were digging into Michele's buttocks entwined in her satin panties and he pulled the gusset to one side exposing her bare buttocks and sphincter.

"No! Brian! It's not what you think!" Michele beseeched him to stop.

Brian payed no heed and wriggled his hips until his erect penis was positioned directly underneath Michele's soft white buttocks. He lowered her slightly and he felt his cock nestle against Michele's anal bud. Michele wriggled and fought in his lap; she put her feet on the floor and tried to push herself up and away from the greasy weapon snuggled between her buttocks.

Brian let go of Michele's thighs and buttocks and placed his hands on her shoulders. He strained and pushed Michele down into his lap whilst wriggling his groin to keep his penis positioned at the entrance to her anus. Michele fought against him but Brian was too strong for her; she was losing the struggle and slowly being forced down into Brian's lap. She felt the Vaseline covered tip of Brian's glans against her anal opening and she gave one last upward shove to try to escape her fate.