The Vanilla Cake Club

Author's Note: Here is an interesting, romantic, sexy story I posted on another site. I don't know why I never put it here on LIT, my favorite. Well, here is the tale of a 'girl,' her wife, and her two new best friends. Our heroine's wife in this story is, well, a little, let us say vicious, so if you don't like that sort of thing please don't read and then admonish me, I have a very sensitive disposition. Ha.

Someone once said (Adrienne K.*): Why are you yelling? I'm able to hear you clearly. What is it you want? Ha... I hope YOU like it.

***

{Made vegetable lasagne today, the husband loved it. Said he could smell it as soon as he parked the car. He went to a meeting after work so I made sure I was wearing the short red dress he liked.}

***

"What a freaking great meeting we had tonight, I probably learned a little too much. And I'm completely worn out."

My wife had been going to a support group, it was called 'Partners Who Crossdress' or PWC. It was for the wives of men who dressed up, and it took place somewhere in Northern New Jersey. We have been living together in Nutley, for the last three years since we got married.

She said she wanted to understand a little more about my transgressions and perversions. In the last four months, she went from 'completely against it,' to 'moderately annoyed by it' and she had ended up somewhere around 'total blase.' I feel it was an okay progression considering how mad she was when she found out I was dressing en femme and then going out to the mall and some shops in the neighborhood. I feel the next step is going to be 'somewhat into it.' It was just a feeling and I could be completely wrong.

I had been dressing as a female since I was young and it was hidden from almost everyone I knew. I lived with my mother and three sisters and I always had a nice pick from all of their wardrobes. I use to practice my makeup and mannerisms while everyone was out of the house living their lives. I would stay home, dress up, and clean the house. My mother used to give me an extra allowance for keeping the house clean and smelling like cookies. I imagined I was the best housewife, I still do.

Between college and marriage, I lived alone in this same house and was dressed up and posing for pictures for my various social media accounts. I was and still am pretty passable. I tried to dress every day but work sometimes made it hard. Now, in just the last couple of years, I work mostly from home but I dress up considerably less.

My gender dysphoria manifests itself as a lead coat, that I couldn't easily take off. I felt weighed down by it and exhausted. Once home I would slip into something more suitable for a woman in her twenties and I would slowly feel the heaviness lift. Sometimes it took most of the night and sometimes an hour, but it was always there hovering over my shoulders, ready to drop right down.

When I first met my wife, Kirsten, I was sort of going through a bit of depression. I had never experienced something like this before. I was a little bored with work and life. My mother was always bugging me to get married and get more involved with the family. Two things I didn't want to do. All the sisters lived in Long Island and I was moving further away from all of them. I was dating a couple of women but nothing serious. I still would rather have been living as a woman and dating men but there was no way I was going to be able to accomplish that without help. I had absolutely no courage at all, I felt so foolish even thinking about it. How would I even start to explain it to my family?

I used to run into Kirsten in the shops in town, and sometimes we would have coffee. Her hands were always dirty, she worked for a plumbing supply company. She was recently single and she didn't like being alone. She was always on edge, she could definitely use a change. I was thinking if the two of us could just have regular routines and more stable home life it would make both of us feel better about ourselves. Maybe I would even tell Kirsten I crossdress. Maybe.

We got married less than a year later, she was thirty-three, I was twenty-six. That was almost three years ago, this was her second marriage.

***

I never thought this through. Living with someone was going to make dressing up even more complicated, especially if it was going to be clandestine. She moved into my house directly from her ex-husbands' apartment. She brought so many tools and hardware, I thought she was going to be handy, the complete opposite of me. She had a huge shed built on the side of the house at the end of the driveway, for all her things she didn't want to keep inside. She would have massive fights with the neighbors about the size of it, it landed right past their property line. I was always so friendly with them but now it was a little tense. Kirsten also took over the master bedroom. When she got bored with me she sent me to the little guest room in the back. She got comfortable pretty quickly.

Her job as a buyer at the supply place took her away a couple of times a year. It wasn't enough. I would take off the entire time she was gone. Once she was at the airport, I was in my lingerie. I would spend the whole day dressing up, cleaning the house, and baking, three things I was great at.

Six months ago Kirsten was away at a trade show in Chicago, I had a whole week. A whole week of new outfits and heels that I have been collecting. I was standing in the guest room, which doubled as my girl's bedroom, in front of the mirror on the closet door. It took me an hour to get my wig perfect. Blonde with darker streaks, a slight curl, and now landing right above my breasts. I had bought C cup glue on ones and they looked great with this strapless dress. It was blue lace and the hem came just above my knees, it was nice and sheer. My legs were in tan pantyhose and I wore five and a half-inch black sandals, with my pink polish peeking out. My press-on fingernails were the same color and so was my lipstick. I looked like I was ready to attend a gala or a party somewhere on someone's private roof, overlooking Manhattan.

Whoosh. Kirsten walked in on me while I was fluffing up my hair, I was only paying attention to the hot blonde in the mirror. I froze.

"What the fuck! Who are you?"

I unfroze. She was supposed to be away for three more days with work. She was looking at me and studying my outfit, it was short and flouncy. I was dressed like a thirty-year-old socialite in a cocktail dress. I panicked and ran into the bathroom clicking in my heels and then locking the door.

She started banging. Kirsten was stocky and strong, she could make a lot of noise. "Get the fuck out of there, get out of my house!" She was getting angrier by the bang and she was calling my male name asking where I was. I was caught by most of my sisters when I was growing up and all they did was laugh, that's the reaction I was used to and preferred.

"Kirsten stop, it's just me." She stopped banging. "Let me get changed, I'll um, explain." She still cursed. It wasn't as loud but there were more of them, and some of them were quite nasty. My bathroom door had major indentations in them now.

I left the bathroom a male and it then became a long night. It was my fault from the beginning, I should have been more honest, but no way would that have happened. My wife is grouchy, homophobic, and probably more conservative than others in this area. Traits I wish I knew before we got married, she seemed a little friendlier, forgiving, and a little less ignorant when we first met. I think it was an act, I should have compared notes with her ex-husband, but he scared me.

"It's not a big deal," I reasoned with her, but to me it was, I was lying. I needed to become Donna, my female self, every once in a while to stay sane. "Please don't be angry about this." But she was.

"Don't tell me how to feel!" She paced around me, "This is so screwed up why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"I don't know, maybe I figured you would be angry." I hated when she got mad, she made me nervous and she tended to throw things. She then threw a picture frame at the wall just missing the TV.

"Shit, what happens if someone else finds out? I don't want to have a husband that's fucking gay and wears panties." I didn't want to educate her, so we decided to go off to our individual corners of the house. I left her to yell and break things into the night.

***

{I was alone, I wouldn't sleep in our bedroom when he was gone. I was thinking about him, he was away. He would call and we would say how much we missed each other.}

***

It was a long couple of months, she barely spoke to me and she banished me to my room in the back of the house. I bought a lock and two new doors, and then I hid all my female clothes even further into my closet. I didn't want her finding anything and then yelling and breaking more things.

Then I slowly started taking them out again. I was sleeping in my pantyhose and nightgowns, it wasn't so bad.

Soon I started to enjoy my time alone checking out all the CDs and their admirers online. Even putting up old pictures on my forgotten social media accounts. She started going out more and left me by myself most nights. I found it was a really easy way to indulge my love of dressing up and handling my gender dysphoria. Through the years I have found different ways to deal with it, besides dressing, there is only one that I still engage in. I have been writing in an online diary for over ten years. It was filled with the life I wish I led as a happy fulfilled woman. It paralleled my own life and it made me feel better writing it and then reading it back. I would then edit the entries in my mind all day long. Online I used red letters for what was real and black for what was imagined. I was hoping one day my diary would be all red.

I could spend all night reveling in my imaginary feminine role. I even carried a notebook to jot down ideas while I was away from my computer. The lead coat would stay securely hidden in the closet for just a while longer.

A couple of weeks later, Kirsten suddenly started talking to me again. I was surprised and disappointed, I didn't mind her leaving me alone. I actually preferred it. She was still aggravated with me, even though I did all the cleaning and most of the cooking. I was trying my best to keep out of her way and stay on her good side.

She told me she met a woman named Ronnie, a therapist, in the same situation as her, she was involved with something called PWC. It was the first time either of us had heard of it. After Kirsten went to her first meeting she was quite ambivalent about the whole crossdressing thing. After the third time, she wanted to make plans.

Kirsten was kind of excited about this new friend of hers and I knew that going to those meetings was definitely an improvement, and making her more bearable at home. "Ronnie says we should all get together, you could meet Hal or should I say, Rosalie, ha, her girlie husband. You should see her pictures, she's hot. I told Ronnie I didn't even know your girl's name."

My wife didn't have many friends and I was quite nervous that Saturday when Ronnie and Rosalie were coming over. My wife wanted me fully dressed and looking gorgeous. She had only seen me once and I didn't want her to find out her husband could become gorgeous very easily. She was talking non-stop in the kitchen heating up the food I made for our guests.

"So what is it?" She called through the door of the back room.

"What's what?"

"Your name, your sissy name. Come on, I want to be able to introduce you."

"It's Donna and I'm not a sissy." I was a little offended, she might be learning things at her meetings but she certainly wasn't learning anything about me or others like me.

"Sissy, CD, homo, what're the other ones? Gender something, Pan... sexual? Who cares it's all the same to me. Fucking complicated rainbow. Now get dressed and let me see you. I have been ready for over an hour." I heard her head back into the kitchen. "And wear those sky-high heels I saw you in, I told Ronnie you had a shoe fetish and she said all of you 'girls' did, haha."

***

I was so nervous, my little 'clit' was so small and hiding in my panties. I wasn't used to meeting people who knew who and what I was, but I was more concerned that Kirsten was being so nice to me. That weirdly enough was a first in a long time.

Standing in front of the mirror I decided I wasn't going to wear something too sexy. I put on my long floral dress, it reached my ankles with a nice big slit in the front, completely showing off my legs. The dress was black with white flowers all over it, it was one of my only expensive dresses and I thought it made me look so passable and feminine. Underneath I had on my C cup boobs and nude pantyhose. My heels were two-inch black sandals, they went perfect with this dress. I had on my longer blonde, streaked wig, the hair came to the middle of my back.

I had spent over ninety minutes on my face. I wanted to look perfect for the company. I had on long lashes and had plump mauve lips which matched my nails. I looked like the most perfect Saturday housewife. Lastly, I slipped on my black plastic earrings and black bangle bracelets. I thought I looked pretty cute. I posed and took pictures for another ten minutes while Kirsten called me through the door. Pictures were more important.

I was delaying having her witness my transformation, the lead coat was gone but it was replaced by the 'sweater of dread.' I didn't want Kirsten to see how perfectly female I could become, she wouldn't understand.

Bang, bang. Another loud knock on my door. "Come on, they will be here soon, start making drinks."

After I was done taking pictures I tentatively walked out into the kitchen, Kirsten was busy on her phone and sitting at the table. She heard my heels and she spun around. She was very quiet. I would have to make a drink as soon as possible if I was going to get through this.

She stood up and walked closer to me, this was the first time she would see her husband dressed as a perfect woman. I was more perfect than her. Kirsten was wearing black pants and low-heeled boots. She had on a long-sleeved brown sweater that was too loose to show any of her B cup breasts. She never showed her body, even if I asked nicely.

She touched my dress feeling it between her fingers, then dropped her hand while shaking her head. "What the fuck." I got nervous, I knew she wouldn't understand why I was so female-looking. "Where is that short dress and the stripper heels, come on, Rosalie is a complete slut I want you to look the same."

She stood back shaking her head, this wasn't the reaction I was expecting.

She started to get loud again. "You got to be kidding me with that dress, what are you a fucking nursery school teacher, who are you trying to impress. Shit, go change!" She seemed so charged up, this was the Kirsten I was used to. "I want you fucking sexy, sexy as all hell. I want them to think you just walked out of a strip club. Don't embarrass me and ruin this in front of my new friends."

It seems Kirsten has had a change of heart concerning my crossdressing.

I was back to the drawing boards. I was so embarrassed I know I looked great, I was feminine and totally comfortable in my role. I have gone shopping in this outfit several times and I had only received admiring looks, from women and men. I had even had a drink with a man once while in this dress, it was one of my favorites because of that.

Kirsten wanted me in something more revealing, I hoped she didn't plan on humiliating me today. She had a mean streak.

***

I came back out into the kitchen wearing something over the top and less appropriate for a Saturday afternoon get-together. I put the outfit together fast, her friends would be here soon. I had on a tight beige lace top, showing the bit of cleavage I created, and my skinny hairless arms. My skirt was red and full, but only reaching below my panties. The only thing I kept from my first outfit was the nude pantyhose. My heels were five-inch nude pumps. They were open-toed, I wanted to show off my nails. I was wishing I had time to repaint them red like my lips. My makeup was a little more dramatic and my lashes were twice as long. I put on red bangles and round, red earrings that made a wonderful noise when I walked.

I made my way back into the kitchen.

She stood up. "Now this is more like it, completely slutty. Now turn around." I showed her the back, I'm sure it was short enough for parading me around. "And now bend over." Kirsten seemed a lot happier with this outfit. She lifted my skirt when I bent and she slapped my ass. "Perfect, just perfect, the girls are going to be happy seeing another slut." I was rubbing my ass when the bell rang.

***

{We had lunch with new friends today. My husband loved my flowered dress, and my friends brought me so many gifts.}

***

Ring. Ring. "Coming..."

Kirsten made me wait in the kitchen, she wanted me to make an entrance. It was taking a long time and I was having trouble breathing. I took a shot of Lemoncello from the freezer to calm down. I glanced at my reflection in the glass of our china cabinet, I thought I looked nice, I didn't think I looked slutty. I don't think Kirsten knows what slutty looks like.

"Donna, come on out and meet our guests." I heard Kirsten call. I took one deep breath and clicked my way into the living room with my loud heels. It was still early afternoon and the house was quite bright. I wouldn't be able to hide in the shadows.

"Oh my god, you are stunning." They said as I walked out. The two of them were holding bags and they walked towards me as I approached. One of them touched my shoulder feeling the material of my top. "Exquisite, this is so nice, you are very good at this." She then looked closer at my makeup.

Kirsten introduced Ronnie and Rosalie Hart. They were both older than us, maybe by ten years, early forties or so. They were also pretty and dressed so sexy, Kirsten was the one that looked like she didn't belong, outfit-wise. I also didn't know which one was a crossdresser.

"And this is Rosalie," Kirsten said with some ceremony.

"Hi," I smiled, "I love your dress and your hair is so nice. Both of you are so beautiful." I was impressed they could have been sisters, they had long brown hair and dark eyes, Rosalie was also much prettier than her wife.

"Thank you," She said, "But look at you. I guess it's finally time for Donna to step out of the closet."

***

I made peach Pina Coladas for everyone and served them in the perfect glasses, and we sat at our bar in the living room. I had a different glass for every drink. The bar was my favorite part of the house. There was room for at least six people and the stools were high, so crossing your legs in heels was very exciting for me. I sometimes dressed up and imagined I was having martinis with my 'husband' and asking him about his day.

Ronnie pulled out two long bottles from a shopping bag. "Kirsten tells me you like to cook and I know a great little shop that sells olive oil from Italy, I'm sure you will make something delicious with them, dear."

"I will, I love them, we can have some today." I then got up and brought back in the cheese and veggie board I prepared, filling my two little specialty bowls with the new virgin oils, and passing out slices of bread I made. Kirsten didn't like cheese or vegetables so I brought in some Pringle potato chips for her.

"Very nice," Rosalie said, "but sit, sit, I have something for you." She then gave me a small box. I felt a little embarrassed that they both gave me presents and nothing for Kirsten, plus I didn't have anything for them.

I opened it, it was earrings and they looked antique. They were beautiful. I didn't have that much jewelry, I didn't want Kirsten asking why I was spending so much money. She always took care of all the bills. I was thinking that now might be a little easier to buy things I've always wanted. I lifted them out of the box, they were long, silver, and very expensive looking, I felt a little uncomfortable.